Page 109 of The Side Road
An hour earlier, he had lost a game of basketball to Mary. She had insisted he spot her ten points.
‘Ten? Seriously?’ he had said.
‘You want to play or not? I’m a busy girl.’
‘Okay, ten, then,’ Oliver conceded.
He had lost by four shots. After that, he spent twenty minutes kicking a rock around the backyard. He really needed to get a dog.
Now, the girls were inside working on an art project. A diorama of a suburban street with three-dimensional houses. Mary had painted murals on the side of the buildings. Meanwhile, he lay on the sofa, consumed by the tangled mess of his love life.
Tash, leaving the house, walked across the yard toward him. After placing her hands on her hips, she stared down at her father. ‘Are you going to do anything today?’
‘Put off today what you can do tomorrow,’ he said. ‘Honey, I’m having a rest day.’
‘Comfort is the enemy of achievement, that’s what Nan always said. Mary and I are making lunch. Would you like something?’
‘What are you making?’
‘Rice serving suggestions,’ Tash said.
‘Can I have tuna?’
‘I’m not making tuna, I’m making chicken.’
‘Despite providing food, shelter, and financial support, I never get what I want?’ Oliver mumbled.
When the Mazda3 pulled into the driveway, Oliver sat up. Blanche, without Leo, climbed out of the car and made her way toward him. She was wearing a colourful pantsuit, and he thought she might have come from the hairdresser. The look on her face indicated otherwise. There was a grey tone to her skin, which was a few shades lighter than her blonde hair.
Oliver stood up and greeted her with a small hug and kiss on the cheek. She felt cold.
‘Are you working on the bike?’ she asked.
‘He’s working on the beer,’ Tash said.
‘I could use a drink myself.’ When she looked Oliver in the eye, her glassy orbs blinked into his.
Oliver knew immediately that something was wrong – either someone had died, or death was imminent.
‘Whisky, if you have it.’ Blanche continued. ‘No water, but ice would be good.’
In the kitchen, Oliver poured Blanche a shot of whisky over ice. ‘Am I going to need one?’ he asked.
Blanche nodded. ‘It’s Leo. He has a brain tumour.’
Oliver tipped his head back and studied the ceiling. ‘Fuck!’
Tash sucked in an enormous breath of air and covered her face with her hands. Blanche wrapped her arms around the girl, and then Oliver wrapped his arms around both of them. They stayed like that, the three of them hugging in Elsie’s kitchen with Mary watching from the doorway.
Eventually, Blanche sighed and shook herself back into reality. She pulled away, dried her eyes, and raised her glass. ‘To life.’
Taking a glass from the sink, Oliver poured himself a nip, then he raised his glass and downed his whisky. ‘Anything you need. Anything at all,’ he said.
Mia foundLeo in the backyard, picking broad beans from the runners that were strung over one side of the garden fence. It was a bountiful crop. At his feet was a container filled with fresh pods.
Mia plodded up the yard. She fell in line next to Leo and started to pluck the beans, placing them into the container. There were many that he had missed on the lower branches. Rummaging around underneath, she came up with her arms filled.
‘I think Flora has dementia,’ she said. ‘Last week, she asked me the same question three times.’
