Page 85 of The Side Road
‘Next week, I can show you the mattress stitch. Then we could work on introducing lace.’
‘God, you’re beautiful.’
Mia had made a winter vegetable and beef pot pie for their lunch, with sticky date pudding to follow. Oliver contributed by making the salad. He loved using the salad spinner. The lettuce had never been drier. He approached the dressing like a chemist. Cooking, he was discovering, had a lot to do with science. His measurements were precise. His ingredients, top quality. Every bottle and jar was always securely screwed or capped after he used them. But it was never the same when he returned. As with the doors, she always left the lids open. This confounded him.
As Mia was finishing her dessert, she paused and said, ‘Oliver.’
A serious question was coming. He took the spoon out of his mouth. ‘Yes, Mia.’
‘Do you think you’ll ever get married again?’ She had fixed her gaze on Snood, who lay at Oliver’s feet. The dog lifted its head and smiled.
Oliver also lifted his head; her courage was admirable. ‘I hope so,’ he replied.
‘So, you enjoyed married life?’
‘I did.’
It took her a moment to process his reply. She licked the syrup off her spoon. Then she asked, ‘What did you like about it?’
‘Many things, but mostly the company and the conversation.I miss the end-of-the-day chit-chat. The “How was your day?” banter.’
‘Like, the dog ate half a loaf of bread this morning and I stubbed my toe.’
‘Yes. Is your toe okay?’
‘Very painful. It might be broken. Actually, it’s definitely broken. Thank you for asking.’
Oliver experienced a sudden, intense feeling of love and devotion. Everything in his life seemed to fall into place. He was filled with a newfound sense of purpose and connection.
Later that afternoon, Mia finished the third animal in her farmyard series; Clarence the Cow was added to Quinn the Chicken, Pete the Pig.
‘Before I start Horatio the Horse, I’m going to make a fringed holdall. It’s the Birkin of knitted bags,’ she said.
‘Good to know,’ Oliver replied.
Oliver,preserving the boundary between parent and child, protected Tash from sensitive information. There were details about their life and finances that she didn’t need to know. Aspects about his past that he was not willing to share. Facts surrounding her mother’s death that she was too young to understand. Aside from that, he revealed almost everything to his daughter. When she came to him with questions about relationships, sex, death, religion, and global warming, he answered her openly and honestly.
He was not ready to disclose the details of his liaison with Mia; it was too early. But they were now seeing each other several times a week. Tash had to know what was going on.
On Monday, when Tash arrived home from school, she found a beginner’s crochet kit and a note from Mia on her bed. The kit, discontinued and with ripped packaging, wasunsalable, but it was still usable, and Mia thought Tash might appreciate it.
Taking it out to the garage, Tash showed it to her father. ‘Did you see Mia today?’ she asked.
‘I did.’ He sat down on the Parker lounge and patted the spot beside him. This was their code for a serious talk. She took the seat, her curiosity piqued.
‘I’ve been spending some time with Mia. We’ve been on a few motorbike rides and had a few lunch dates.’
Tash stiffened. ‘Really?’
‘Yes. We like each other. It’s early days – nothing is official. You know how this works, so please be discreet. But I wanted you to know.’
Her cheeks flushed. She smiled and jiggled her knees. From the look on her face, he expected her to say, ‘Don’t fuck this up.’ He had no intention of fucking it up. It meant a lot to both of them.
Leaning in, she rubbed her head into his shoulder. ‘Jack’s coming over to see the bike. Is that okay?’
‘Of course.’
Jack arrived with a stack of old motorbike magazines that Ben had given him. Together with Tash, they sat at the workbench in the garage and flicked through the pages.
