Page 7 of Playing for Keeps

I straightened up, trying to put my expression back into the neutral zone. Judging by the look on Char’s face, I’d failed.

“He looks even more like Ethan now,” she said.

“Yeah.” The word came out strangled, so I cleared my throat before continuing. “I noticed it in the photos, but it’s even more uncanny seeing it in real life.”

“He’s not quite as much of a livewire as Ethan was, thankfully,” she said.

“Who’s Ethan?” Jonathan asked. Falling from his lips, it sounded like the most innocent question in the world. A question that should have had a simple, straightforward answer.

Instead, my father sucked in a breath, my mother’s jaw clenched and my shoulders stiffened.

“Ethan is Theo’s father,” Char finally answered.

Jonathan shot me a look, as if he knew there was more to the story and he’d ask me later.

Awesome. Really looking forward to that conversation.

But my worry about that was set aside in the flurry of organizing luggage, getting out to my parents’ car, and heading to their house.

It wasn’t the home I’d grown up in. My parents’ big relocation from Ashburton to Christchurch—so they could be closer to Char after she had Theo—had happened just after I left for Japan.

Jonathan and I were staying with my parents while we got our rental sorted. The Marauders had organized a fully furnished apartment, but we still had to do things like buy kitchen utensils and toilet paper. And given the way my parents fussed over us, they weren’t worried about having extra guests for a few nights.

“I’ve put two towels on your bed, and don’t feel rude if you want to have a nap,” Mum said as she hovered in the doorway, my father next to her.

“Nah, we’re fine.” I looked at Jonathan, who nodded. “It’s probably best if we try to stay awake so we can adjust to New Zealand time as soon as possible.”

“I’ve booked a tee-time for Saturday.” My dad had a hopeful look on his face. “Do you think you’ll be up to playing golf by then?”

Jonathan grinned. “Even if Luke was on his deathbed, I think he’d still summon the energy for golf.”

“Saturday should be fine,” I said to Dad.

“I’ve decided I’m going to cut down work to three days a week,” Dad said. “It’ll give me more time to travel to your games. And to play golf when you’re here.”

My father was a doctor in a local general practice surgery. He’d been talking about cutting his hours for a while now and obviously my arrival home was the excuse he needed.

Having a GP for a father had worked to my advantage when I’d told him I was gay, right before I left for Japan. He’d accepted it without blinking, and while his subsequent lecture on safe sex had been clinical and maybe veered into too much anatomical detail, I knew I was lucky compared to a lot of people.

“That’s great,” I said. “Walloping you on the golf course will be good stress relief for me.”

My father’s face shone with a smile. “I also saw there’s a vintage car exhibition you might be interested in.”

“Sounds good.”

My father clapped his hand on my shoulder. He held it there for a few seconds, the weight of it solid and his gaze slightly watery.

“It’s good to have you home.”

* * *

“So, that was interesting,” Jonathan said.

We were getting ready for bed. It was not even nine o’clock, but we’d both finally hit the wall and made our excuses when my mother had suggested playing cards. Char and Theo had come over for dinner, and it had been a pleasant evening. Theo had warmed up to me quickly. The electronic Godzilla LEGO set I’d brought back from Japan for him might have helped. Getting down on the rug to help him build the set had brought back lots of memories from my own LEGO-playing days.

I had known that Jonathan would want to talk about his observations of my family. He was a dissector, someone who was fascinated by people.

“Your dad is so excited to have you home,” he began, unbuttoning his shirt.