A Home Like Ours Fiona Lowe (good novels to read .txt) 📖

Helen still hadn’t turned up and Milo, who’d been happily playing in the dirt, was now filthy and fractious.

‘Thanks for this.’ Jade handed Aima the glass. ‘But I should go.’

‘You want me to give Helen the gloves?’

Jade knew she should hand them over and be done with it, but if she did that, she wouldn’t have a reason to return to the garden. The thought made her fingers close tightly around them. ‘Thanks, but I’ll catch her later.’

Aima’s forehead creased under her headscarf and a hot brick of angry disappointment lodged in Jade’s chest. ‘I’m going to give them back to her!’

Aima’s eyes widened at Jade’s raised voice but she kept her gaze fixed on her. ‘Yes, but how do you catch Helen? She is not a ball.’

Jade laughed and the brick in her chest dissolved. ‘“Catch her later” means I’ll see her later. Meet her later. At another time.’

‘Ah! English is hard and confusing.’

‘Is it?’ Jade had never given it any thought. ‘Anyway, maybe I’ll catch you later too?’

Aima smiled. ‘That would be nice.’

Jade strapped Milo in the pram and walked home. When she turned into Serenity Street, she saw Corey’s ute and delight danced and spun in her belly. She ran the last hundred metres to the front door and excitement made her fumble the key. It took two attempts to slide it into the lock and in the juggle of bumping the pram past the wire door and through the front door, Milo woke up crying.

‘Shh, buddy. Daddy’s home!’ She lifted Milo out of the pram and called out, ‘Hi. We missed you!’

Corey sat at the kitchen table nursing a beer. His blue gaze flicked over her. ‘You’ve got forty-seven hours of Corey greatness to enjoy. You could have had forty-eight but you’ve missed an hour. Where’ve you been?’

‘Out for the first time in days.’ She leaned down and kissed him and he squeezed her arse. ‘Did you get my texts about Milo being sick?’

He shrugged, leaving her uncertain if he’d received them or not. ‘He can’t be too sick if he’s been playing in the dirt.’

‘He’s better today so we went to the community garden.’

‘What’s that?’

‘It’s a place where people grow stuff. I think they should grow flowers but mostly it’s vegetables. I got some organic ones for Milo.’

‘Organic’s bullshit.’

Jade disagreed but it wasn’t worth mentioning. ‘You hungry?’

‘Yeah.’

‘You hold Milo and I’ll make you a sandwich.’

‘No way. He’s filthy.’

Corey was wearing a stained blue singlet, grimy work pants and he smelled of sweat, dust and smoke.

Jade saw a chance for some father–son bonding. ‘Why don’t you have a bath together?’

He shuddered. ‘Nup. Last time I did that, he shat on me.’

‘You make the sandwich then and I’ll clean him up.’

‘I can wait.’ He sucked on the beer, then pulled out his phone and checked Snapchat.

Jade stood holding their son while duelling emotions strove for supremacy. Corey hadn’t seen Milo in three weeks, but he didn’t want to cuddle or bath him or give her a ten-minute break from him? Then a breeze of understanding cooled her resentment. Men didn’t get involved with their kids until they could walk, talk or throw a ball. If at all.

Unwanted thoughts of her own father wriggled in. She pushed them away—Corey was nothing like her father.

Jade kissed Milo’s sweaty and dusty curls. ‘Let’s get you washed and into bed, mate.’

When she returned to the kitchen, Corey was sitting in the same chair but a second beer bottle had joined the first. She opened the fridge and pulled out some bread, marg, dev and tomato sauce—Corey’s favourite. As she sliced the crusts off the soft white bread and slid the sandwich onto a plate, she thought about the flavours of the naan and the bolani.

‘Do you want lettuce on this?’

Corey snorted and she wondered why she’d asked when he only ate white vegetables. She joined him at the table and he bit into the sandwich without asking her why she wasn’t eating.

‘I thought the garden would be full of stuck-up women like at Baby Time,’ she said.

‘None of that lot would garden. Might damage their nails.’

She laughed, happy to find a topic they both agreed on. ‘All women who can get pregnant have to wear gloves.’ Corey didn’t ask why or how she knew this, so she kept chatting. ‘But apart from the bossy woman in charge, everyone I met was friendly.’

Corey washed down the first half of his sandwich with beer then tackled the second.

‘I helped them plant chives.’

‘Woof are ’ey?’ he asked around a mouthful of food.

‘A herb. Kinda like thick blades of grass, but hollow. They taste a bit like onion and they use them heaps in cooking. They even put them in naan.’

‘In what?’

‘Naan. It’s bread.’

‘Nah.’ Corey shook his head. ‘Bread is bread and it doesn’t have bloody herbs in it.’

‘It does if it comes from India, Pakistan, Iran—’

She quickly stopped before adding Afghanistan and parts of China, so Corey didn’t say, ‘Fuck, Jade. No one likes a smart-arse.’ She didn’t mean to be one—she just loved to read and watch documentaries, and she had a good memory. But as Corey pointed out, it wasn’t that she was smarter than him, it was because she didn’t work and could watch TV all day and fill her mind with useless information. Except she never read or watched TV when Milo was awake.

Corey was leaning forward now, showing more interest in her conversation than he usually did. ‘Who are these women?’

‘They’re from Afghanistan.’

‘You’ve been gardening with terrorists?’

Guilt jabbed her, the sensation uncomfortable. The first time she’d seen the women in the garden she’d silently called them the same thing.

‘They’re just mums like me. You should see them with Milo—’

‘Have you lost your fuckin’ mind?’ Corey’s chair shot back, scraping against the lino. He was on his feet, pressing his hands down on the table, biceps bulging and the veins on his forearms throbbing. ‘You’ve let them touch my son?’

‘I …’ Jade’s mind spun and slowed