bitter.”
“Not at all, I’m much happier now. This way there’s no one trying to improve my speech all the time,” and he winked at her as he crossed over the threshold.
“That’s not what I was doing,” Anna protested after him, but he didn’t hear. He was too busy taking in her house. He whistled.
“Oscar, come check this out,” he called to where Oscar was still loitering outside with the ducks. Reluctantly Oscar left them to join his father inside.
“Cool,” he said, after a few minutes observation. Because, really, when it came down to it, it was just a house and he was an eight year old boy.
“Cool? It’s better than cool son.”
Oscar tried again. “Great?”
Matt sighed.
“It’s a house dad.”
“House? Son, it’s so much more than that.” He opened his arms in a sweeping gesture that encompassed the room. “Look at this place, why, it’s a work of art. And you,” he whirled swiftly back to Anna who stepped back, startled. “You clever thing you, creating this!”
“I’m afraid I can’t take all the credit,” Anna told him, puzzled by his passionate reaction.
“Oh,” Matt seemed crestfallen, “you bought it like this?”
‘Well, not exactly like this. I painted it these colours. And I knocked out a wall there,” she pointed, “to make it all one big living area downstairs. But it was built by someone else.”
Matt was quiet while he pondered what she’d said. Finally he clapped his hands, “well,” he said, “what you’ve done has enhanced it, for sure. And these colours are perfect. I like how even though it’s all one room you’ve separated each area with a different colour. What was it painted before?”
“Cream.”
“Ugh,” he shuddered. “Is there any colour less imaginative?”
“Isn’t your lounge cream dad?”
“It’s ivory, son. That’s different. And it’s only temporary until I can find the right colour to replace it.”
“Are you a designer?” Anna asked.
“Merely a frustrated closet one, I’m afraid.”
“Meaning?”
“I graduated as an accountant, worked two months on the job and realised I’d made a horrible mistake and went back to school to study design. Then I met Kirsten, and life -” he pointed downwards with his fingers to indicate Oscar silently, “- got in the way and I had to leave to get a job to pay the bills.”
“Did you go back to accountancy?”
“Sadly. Stuck with it for years – even though each day a little part inside of me died – but as soon as Kirsten left I quit and now I’m a groundskeeper. It’s not glamorous, and the money is absolutely rubbish, but I’m outside each day enjoying the elements.” He smiled and Anna could tell he really enjoyed his work.
They heard a scuffling noise coming from the back door off the kitchen.
“I’d better feed the ducks before they mutiny.”
“Go right ahead, I’ll just look around while we wait, if that’s ok?”
Whether it was or not Anna was polite, so she nodded, before hurrying to the kitchen and fetching the ducks bread from the pantry.
“Can I help?” Oscar asked her.
“Sure,” Anna smiled at him, “that would be nice.” She was struggling to act naturally around him. From the moment she’d set eyes on him in the park her composure had deserted her. Luckily, she had become accustomed to putting on a brave face, something she’d found was expected of her by people who’d stopped inviting her into their homes in case she melted into a basket case in their arms. She found if she maintained a pretence of normality, of ‘getting on with things’, they found it easier to be around her. It was her that stopped accepting the invitations in the end though. She just found it easier to be in her own company. That way, if she felt like crying uncontrollably for three hours and throwing things at walls, she could. She’d once smashed an entire dinner set – white with blue trim, an engagement present that had sat forgotten in its box
“Not at all, I’m much happier now. This way there’s no one trying to improve my speech all the time,” and he winked at her as he crossed over the threshold.
“That’s not what I was doing,” Anna protested after him, but he didn’t hear. He was too busy taking in her house. He whistled.
“Oscar, come check this out,” he called to where Oscar was still loitering outside with the ducks. Reluctantly Oscar left them to join his father inside.
“Cool,” he said, after a few minutes observation. Because, really, when it came down to it, it was just a house and he was an eight year old boy.
“Cool? It’s better than cool son.”
Oscar tried again. “Great?”
Matt sighed.
“It’s a house dad.”
“House? Son, it’s so much more than that.” He opened his arms in a sweeping gesture that encompassed the room. “Look at this place, why, it’s a work of art. And you,” he whirled swiftly back to Anna who stepped back, startled. “You clever thing you, creating this!”
“I’m afraid I can’t take all the credit,” Anna told him, puzzled by his passionate reaction.
“Oh,” Matt seemed crestfallen, “you bought it like this?”
‘Well, not exactly like this. I painted it these colours. And I knocked out a wall there,” she pointed, “to make it all one big living area downstairs. But it was built by someone else.”
Matt was quiet while he pondered what she’d said. Finally he clapped his hands, “well,” he said, “what you’ve done has enhanced it, for sure. And these colours are perfect. I like how even though it’s all one room you’ve separated each area with a different colour. What was it painted before?”
“Cream.”
“Ugh,” he shuddered. “Is there any colour less imaginative?”
“Isn’t your lounge cream dad?”
“It’s ivory, son. That’s different. And it’s only temporary until I can find the right colour to replace it.”
“Are you a designer?” Anna asked.
“Merely a frustrated closet one, I’m afraid.”
“Meaning?”
“I graduated as an accountant, worked two months on the job and realised I’d made a horrible mistake and went back to school to study design. Then I met Kirsten, and life -” he pointed downwards with his fingers to indicate Oscar silently, “- got in the way and I had to leave to get a job to pay the bills.”
“Did you go back to accountancy?”
“Sadly. Stuck with it for years – even though each day a little part inside of me died – but as soon as Kirsten left I quit and now I’m a groundskeeper. It’s not glamorous, and the money is absolutely rubbish, but I’m outside each day enjoying the elements.” He smiled and Anna could tell he really enjoyed his work.
They heard a scuffling noise coming from the back door off the kitchen.
“I’d better feed the ducks before they mutiny.”
“Go right ahead, I’ll just look around while we wait, if that’s ok?”
Whether it was or not Anna was polite, so she nodded, before hurrying to the kitchen and fetching the ducks bread from the pantry.
“Can I help?” Oscar asked her.
“Sure,” Anna smiled at him, “that would be nice.” She was struggling to act naturally around him. From the moment she’d set eyes on him in the park her composure had deserted her. Luckily, she had become accustomed to putting on a brave face, something she’d found was expected of her by people who’d stopped inviting her into their homes in case she melted into a basket case in their arms. She found if she maintained a pretence of normality, of ‘getting on with things’, they found it easier to be around her. It was her that stopped accepting the invitations in the end though. She just found it easier to be in her own company. That way, if she felt like crying uncontrollably for three hours and throwing things at walls, she could. She’d once smashed an entire dinner set – white with blue trim, an engagement present that had sat forgotten in its box
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