Page 46 of Free Wind (Lifeguards of Barking Beach #2)

“What happened?” Tabby asked with a frown. She’d appeared in the hallway from her room the moment Damo had come in and kicked off his thongs. Had she and Mum had another row?

Walking back into the house, that familiar heaviness pressed down painfully. Part of him wanted to turn on his heel and run back out into the sunshine.

“Sweetheart?” Mum asked from where she sat at the dining table wearing jeans and a tee instead of the usual scrubs or a nightie. Her hair was in a ponytail as always, the dark roots stark. She’d cleared a square of space, and papers sat on the old wood.

When had they last actually eaten at that table? Years ago now. Mum frowned at him too and turned on the chair like she was about to spring into nursing action.

“I’m fine,” he said.

“No, you’re not,” Tabby insisted. “You look like shit.”

“Surf was pumping today. It was full on with rescues.”

“And?” Tabby demanded.

She knew him too well, which made Damo feel good. “Blake got hurt. Fin chop.”

“Oh! Is he okay?” Tabby asked. She tugged nervously on the hem of her footy jersey.

Damo nodded. “Missed the nerves and arteries in his leg. They’re stitching it up.”

Mum asked, “Is that your friend from yesterday?”

Damo nodded. “I have his car keys, and I’m gonna pick him up after I shower. I can look in on Dad, too.” He should’ve already, but he was dreading it.

“He’s not there,” Mum said.

Damo and Tabby stared at her. For a terrible moment, Damo thought he might be dead, and another mess of feelings gut punched him—grief and regret and relief and even more terrible grief.

Mum held up the top sheet of paper. “Intake for the rehab center in Perth. He’s been transferred, and I’m taking the paperwork over shortly. It’s a twelve-week program under the Mental Health Commission.”

Wide-eyed, Tabby whispered, “He agreed?”

“He did. Frankly, he didn’t have much of a choice.”

Damo and Tabby shared a glance. “What does that mean?” he asked.

Tears welled in Mum’s eyes. “We can’t do this anymore. It’s too much for all of us. Especially you two.” A sob escaped. “It hasn’t been fair at all.”

Damo rushed to his mother’s side, crouching at her feet. “Don’t cry. It’s all right. We’ll manage. We always manage.”

“You shouldn’t have to manage!” She shook her head as tears slipped down her cheeks. “You’ve both shouldered far more than you should have.” She beckoned Tabby close and drew her against her side. “I didn’t want to face it. I’m sorry. I’ve let you both down.”

“You haven’t!” Damo insisted. Fuck, he hated seeing her cry. “You’ve done your best. It’s not your fault.”

“I’m the parent. My best should have been better.”

“It’s not like you magically become perfect when you have kids,” he said. He thought of Cooper and how clueless he would be if Coop was his son. “You’re doing everything you can. You work so much.”

“Don’t cry, Mum,” Tabby pleaded. “Is it because of what I said?”

“No, darling! You were right.” Mum pulled Tabby into a hug and rubbed her back.

Damo wasn’t sure what they were talking about, but he could guess. “Wow. Rehab.” It was good news. Amazing news! Still, dread returned. “What happens after that, though?”

Setting Tabby on her lap even though she was too big for it, Mum said, “A care home. He’s been on the waiting list for more than a year. I didn’t think—I kept hoping…” She smiled sadly. “This event bumped him up on the list. He has to complete rehab, then they’ll take him on permanently.”

Damo tried to process what she was saying. “A year? You were planning this?” He was grateful and relieved and surprised and guilty and, and, and…

“I know it’s a big step. To not have your dad at home anymore. I didn’t want to say anything until he actually had a spot. But we can’t go on like this.”

Damo’s chest was too tight. It had seemed endless. His world narrowed in to this house and Dad and the beach. Two halves of his life and nothing else. Mum working and sleeping and hardly ever really here.

But she’d been trying to make it better. His eyes burned, his throat thick. “I wish you’d said.” He’d needed the hope. Hadn’t had it until he met Blake.

Mum brushed back his tangled hair. “I’m sorry, bub. I didn’t want to disappoint you more than I already have if we couldn’t get a spot.”

“S’okay. You did your best. But how are we going to pay for that?”

“We have to sell the house.”

Tabby shot up off Mum’s lap as Damo rocketed to his feet. “What?” they demanded in unison.

Mum smiled sadly. “It’ll be worth at least a million now. The land alone this close to the beach.”

“So some dickhead can tear it down and squeeze in another ugly McMansion?” Damo asked. “Yeah, nah.”

His heart raced at the thought of the house—with all its memories and misery—not being theirs anymore. Being gone.

“You really want to stay here?” Mum asked. “You haven’t thought about getting an apartment or sharing with your mates?”

“I haven’t!” It was the truth—he’d never even entertained the idea because it had simply been impossible.

But now, he thought of waking up in bed with Blake? He could have that every night. They could come home to each other and drink a beer and make a stir fry and laugh and talk about their days. They could kiss and fuck and go to sleep in their bed.

He could have that. They could do life together.

“But where will we live?” Tabby asked.

Mum blew out a long breath, her cheeks puffing. “Well, after we sell the house—which won’t be right away—we can move in with your Auntie Kirsty.”

Tabby’s voice rose so high the neighborhood dogs had to be having seizures. “In Quinns Rocks?”

Damo had to hold in a shudder. “Forget about north of the river—that’s practically Broome!”

“You know very well the Northern Beaches are an hour away. It’s the top end of Perth, and they’re extending the train lines.

There are all sorts of new housing developments going up.

We can live with Auntie Kirsty for a year and figure out which area we like best. It’s cheaper there. We can’t afford Barking anymore.”

“I’ll have to change schools!” Tabby wailed. Damo squeezed her shoulders.

“I know, sweetie,” Mum said. “I’ll have to find a job at another hospital. It’ll mean change for all of us. But we need it.” She took a shaky breath. “We can’t go on like this. It’s…” Her voice caught. “It’s crushing us. Including your dad. He needs more help than we can give.”

They all knew that was true.

In the silence, Mum added, “The care home’s in Mindarie. A ten-minute drive from Quinns. In the meantime, we can drive up to visit.”

Tabby demanded, “What about Damo? He can’t leave Barkers!”

Standing, Mum gazed at him with damp, blue eyes so much like his own.

“That’s his choice.” She took his hand. “I only want the best for you. I’ve let you give up far too much already.

Both of you.” She jerked with another sob, and Tabby and Damo moved in unison to hug her, the three of them holding each other until they could speak again.

Damo’s phone buzzed, and he read the text from Blake saying he was being discharged. His head spun. “I need to shower and pick up Blake.”

“Sorry, how do you know him?” Mum asked. “I thought I knew all your mates from the beach.”

“He’s a new clubbie,” Damo said. His heart thudded. “And he’s my boyfriend now.” It really was getting easier, and he smiled despite everything.

Mum’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh! I… Oh!” She blinked at him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize. I should’ve. How long have you…” She shook her head and pulled him into another hug. “That’s wonderful, sweetheart.”

“Thanks, Mum.” He breathed out and squeezed her tightly. “I still like chicks too, for the record. I’m bi.”

Smiling as she pulled back, Mum said again, “Wonderful. I’d love to meet him and—was that his son? I want to meet them again properly.”

Tabby asked, “Are you going to sleep over at Blake’s to look after him?”

“No,” he said automatically. “I’ll be back, Tabs. Don’t worry.”

“But you should. Stay over at his, I mean. I’m okay.” She sniffed loudly. “I promise. And Mum’s here with me.”

Mum held Tabby against her side. “How about we get some takeaway and watch a movie?”

Tabby brightened. “Really? Can we get hot dogs from Run Amuk in Freo?”

“Definitely,” Mum said. She smiled at Damo. “Go on. We’ll see you tomorrow.”

The two nights away in Bremer Bay had seemed like a miracle. Now he could just…leave again? “But…”

Tabby rolled her eyes. “Are you still here? On yer bike!” She gave him a playful shove.

They laughed some more, and then Damo thought of Dad and wanted to cry. He reckoned none of them knew what to think or how to feel, veering from tears to laughter and back again in a blink. But one thing he knew for sure?

He couldn’t wait to sleep in Blake’s bed.

Blake groaned as he sat on the side of the mattress in his boxers. “Maybe I can just take a quick shower. Stick my head in.”

“Mate!” Damo could tell Blake wasn’t going to be an easy patient. “You’re not going against doc’s order on my watch. She said forty-eight hours until you can get the stitches wet.” He took the crutches and propped them against the table beside Blake’s bed.

The bedroom was clean and spare like the rest of Blake’s unit.

Holding a queen-sized bed with gray and blue doona, a small TV on the wall across from it, a closet, window with pale curtains, and an armchair in the corner that somehow wasn’t piled with dirty laundry.

A framed picture of the sun rising—or maybe setting—over an endless ocean hung on the wall over the bed.

Damo helped Blake sit back against the padded gray headboard and prop his bad leg on pillows. “You right?”

Blake nodded. “Are you sure you don’t have to get home? I don’t want to take you away from your family.”

“No worries. Mum and Tabs are good, and I can’t do anything for Dad tonight while he’s getting settled in rehab.”

“It’s not fair that you go from caretaking at home to looking after me.”