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

The moment the words shot out she regretted them.

‘Stop bossing me around!’ Jade said. ‘All you’ve done since you moved in is criticise me. You don’t have to live here, you know!’

Helen stomped to the bathroom, pulled out the plug, flung towels into the laundry hamper and mopped up the slick trail of shampoo that could make her slip and break a hip. She should have accepted Bob’s invitation to rent his spare room. Not that she had any idea if Bob was neater than Jade, but she had a hunch he had two bathrooms.

Rubbing furiously, she removed the ring of grime then ran the bath, feeling her anger ebb. As the water rushed around her, it brought reluctant memories rising to the surface. Snapshots of what living with a baby was like—the constant interruptions, the never-ending claims on her time. The overwhelming feelings of inadequacy.

Back then, Theo’s income had meant money wasn’t something Helen needed to worry about too much, but he’d been raised in a Greek household—men didn’t do housework. Helen had struggled to keep the house neat and clean, to cook and put meals on the table when Nicki cried non-stop for weeks. Despite the years that separated her from those dark days, a shudder wove through her. Jade didn’t have the luxury of a secure income to offset the worries of raising a child. She was doing it all on her own.

Pangs of conscience poked Helen and she slid under the water, seeking absolute quiet. God, how she craved quiet. And space. She’d lived alone for years and she was too old to share a house with anyone, let alone with a girl who was young enough to be her daughter.

You don’t have to live here, you know.

Her breath rushed out of her lungs and a flotilla of bubbles boomed around her ears. She sat up fast, thinking about Roxy and her cycle of moving in with her daughter and grandchildren and inevitably landing back living in her car within two weeks. Roxy always sounded so positive when she moved in, but the arguments started within two days, straining an already fraught relationship and quickly snapping fragile bonds.

I’m doing you a favour. You don’t get to boss me around.

If she and Jade continued along this path, things would break down fast and Helen’s options were limited. The thought of being beholden to anyone, let alone Bob, terrified her. At least she and Jade were close to a level playing field financially and Helen’s rent was helping to improve Jade’s quality of life. Bob didn’t need extra money—she’d be his charity case and would likely have to fight him to pay rent. She didn’t need that power dynamic.

That left making things work with Jade. But how? In her post-grad studies, Helen had learned some conflict resolution techniques. She’d only ever thought of them in terms of advising others on how to use them. She sank under the water again, fighting the uncomfortable truth. She had to use them herself.

By the time Helen had finished her bath and tidied the bathroom, Milo was in bed and asleep. She walked into the kitchen and rummaged through her food cupboard, pulling out her bottle of Jack Daniels.

‘Jade, I’ve got some JD and you’ve got a bottle of Coke. I thought we could have a drink if you’re happy to share the Coke?’

Jade put down Year of Wonders. The girl read voraciously, reminding Helen of herself at the same age. ‘I s’pose.’

Helen bit off, ‘Don’t do me any favours,’ and lifted two glasses out of the cupboard. After quickly mixing the drinks, she carried them into the lounge. ‘Here you go.’

Taking a seat on the couch next to Jade, she took a fortifying slug of her drink, enjoying the burning heat of the whiskey. ‘Been a bit of a rocky week, hasn’t it?’

‘Little bit.’

‘Sorry I lost it over the bathroom. I get a bit grumpy when I’m tired.’

‘I noticed.’

Instead of jumping on the criticism, Helen took another sip and forced herself to let the silence hang. ‘I’ve lived on my own for a long time. Have you ever shared with anyone before?’

‘I lived with Mum until she kicked me out.’

That answered one question about why Jade was virtually on her own.

‘That’s not exactly sharing though, is it? There’s the whole mother–daughter dynamic.’

Jade grimaced. ‘You mean being told what to do all the time? Like you’re doing even though it’s my house?’

‘I haven’t been—’ She took a deep breath. ‘That’s the thing, Jade, it’s our house. We’re supposed to be sharing. But right now we’re two individuals living under one roof and doing our own thing. That’s why we’re fighting.’

‘I’m not a kid.’ Jade held up her drink as if to reinforce the message.

Helen took in Jade’s unlined face, the faint remains of a pimple, and saw a child. She reminded herself that Nicki wasn’t that much older than Jade, but Nicki was forever a child. Was that part of the problem? What did Helen know about young adults?

Memories stirred and she was suddenly back in the weatherboard house in East Bentleigh with her hand on the timber and glass front door. Where are you going? She was twenty-one and financially independent, but her parents still insisted on a curfew. Jade was a young mother without any family support who’d managed to live independently on a very limited income. It was a sobering thought.

‘I know you’re not a kid,’ Helen said. ‘Just like I’m not your mother.’

‘Hell, no.’ Jade took a deep draught of her drink. ‘You can be a pain but you’re nothing like Charlene.’

Questions spun in Helen’s mind but she didn’t ask them. ‘Is that a compliment?’

‘Yeah.’ Jade’s lips twitched into a cheeky smile that lightened her often dour expression. ‘You’re okay.’

‘Thank you.’ Helen made a decision. ‘I really want to make this work because …’ Her chest cramped and she sucked in a deep breath. ‘Because there was a time a few years ago when I lived in