A Reason to Exist

Chapter 24

At breakfast the next morning, I realised I forgot to speak to my dad the night before.

'Did dad call?' I asked Tate, over our homemade peach and rhubarb crumble.

Tate paused with his spoon mid-air. 'He didn't call,' Tate said, his brow dipping. 'He must've forgot about us.'

'He never forgets,' I said. 'He always calls on a Wednesday.' Mum was in the shower, so she couldn't hear us. 'Why are you so angry at dad?' I asked. 'He loves you.' Tate drew his lips together. 'I love you too,' I said, suddenly wishing for connection with my brother. 'Who are you playing with at school at the moment?'

'Just the usual. Will and Hugh.'

'What do you do at lunchtime?'

'Why are you asking?'

'I'm just curious. I was thinking about it the other day.'

Tate took a big mouthful of his crumble and chewed.

'Do you want to do something together on Saturday?' I asked.

'I've got rehearsal for Mary Poppins.'

'After that?'

'Maybe.'

I felt so estranged from my own brother. I regretted that I'd been so consumed with my own life that I'd forgotten about his.

'Angus and Julia Stone are brother and sister,' I said.

'So what?'

'I'm just saying that some brothers and sisters get along really well together. Like they tour together and everything.'

'You can't sing,' Tate said.

'I know I can't sing. But we can still be friends, yeah? Like you can talk to me about anything you want? I'm here.'

Tate groaned.

'Just saying,' I said. I watched as Tate walked off. My brother had dressed himself in a sumo wrestler suit, protected his heart under layers of padding. Feelings bounced right off him.

Mum's phone was on the bench. I could still hear the shower running. I tried her usual passcode. I went to missed calls and saw dad did call at 7.29pm, 7.32pm and 7.40pm last night. I must have been lying on my bed when he called. I was sorry I hadn't been listening out for his call, he'd be sad that he didn't get to speak to us. Mum was so inflexible, he wouldn't be able to call on another night.

I went to my room and got dressed in my school uniform. Brushing my hair and looking in the mirror, I recalled that one day when I had my green ombre hairstyle and how good it'd felt. Now, my hair looked mousy and plain, limp and lifeless. It'd been washed and conditioned in drabness.

I went back into the kitchen.

'I didn't get to speak to dad last night,' I said to mum, who was packing our lunches into the tin lunchboxes.

'Oh, yeah,' she said. 'He was supposed to call. He must've forgot.'

'Maybe we didn't hear his call,' I said, knowing there were definitely calls from him.

'No, I was listening out for it,' mum said. 'He didn't call.'

'I'll try and ring him tonight,' I said. Tate walked into the kitchen, dressed in his uniform.

'You're supposed to speak on Wednesdays and he didn't care enough to call,' mum said.

'Told you he forgot to call,' Tate said. 'He must've had something better on.' I could see my mother's face beaming at him. I didn't know why he put on this act to impress her.

'I know he called,' I said. 'Check your missed calls. Take a look.'

'That's enough, Macy,' she said, lowering her voice. 'You'll get Tate upset. He's tired of being let down.'

My neck felt flushed and my fingers were rigid. 'Why are you always hating on dad?' I asked. 'It's rubbish. He called. I know for sure he did. And why can't I ring him whenever I like? Why's there so many rules? He's our dad. We should be able to speak to him whenever we like.'

'Stop it,' she said. 'You're giving me a headache before 8.30am. I need to avoid stress for my healing.'

'I'll call him on Zuri's phone,' I said, determined. I packed the stupid tin lunchbox into my schoolbag, leaching metallic flavours into my food. I filled my glass water bottle, pushing past mum's aghast face by the sink. My head felt tingly and my heart beat fast. Family life was a battleground with nonsensical rules of engagement.