Between Before and After Read online

  Max felt the tension in his body ease slightly, his shoulders relaxing as the view of the bay unwrapped itself before him like a gift. In a way, it was, especially after the past few months. He took a moment to allow himself the luxury of remembering happier times. Summers spent lazing on the pontoon in the sun; fishing off the jetty; kayak races across the bay; jumping off the jetty into the cool water; late summer evenings eating outdoors on the deck; toasting marshmallows on bonfires on the beach; watching the sunset from the old boat shed down on the water’s edge.

  As always, the memories were bittersweet, and he dragged himself back to the present with a bone-weary sigh that seemed to echo through the empty house. A boat came into view out on the bay and he watched for several minutes as it crawled slowly past, heading further into the Sounds. He momentarily wondered what it might be like, to jump on a boat and take off like that. God knew, he had been doing a variation of that for the past couple of years so imagining it wasn’t too difficult. He shrugged off the fantasy. He wanted to be here. After his somewhat transient lifestyle, it felt good to have somewhere to be – somewhere to belong. Apart from Gavin and Lacey’s place, this was the closest thing he had to a bricks-and-mortar home. He supposed, at twenty-eight years old, he should be worried about that, but he wasn’t. He liked his lifestyle, it suited his needs. He had gotten used to sleeping in guest rooms, on sofas and in hostels.

  He took a deep breath, releasing it slowly. The slightly dusty smell that greeted him told of long, hot days with no ventilation. He walked over to unlock the French doors and threw them open, stepping out onto the wooden deck and anchoring them to the outside wall of the house with metal stays. Standing on the deck, he let his gaze wander over the bay once more. Instantly, memories began to crowd in on him again and he shook them off, turning and heading back through the house to the back door.

  Switching on the power in the fuse box, he turned on the fridge and the oven and walked back out to the car. He grabbed his sleeping bag and a bag of groceries, setting the latter on the kitchen bench and picking up his duffel bag with his free hand. Depositing both sleeping bag and duffel bag in the bedroom he always called his, he made his way through the house, opening the French doors in all four bedrooms, letting the stale air out and the fresh-yet-warm air in.

  After unpacking the groceries, he stocked the outside fridge full of beer from the boxes he had stashed in the car, and grabbed one for himself. He ambled along the deck, settling into a wooden deckchair and pulling his sunglasses down over his eyes. It would be three years in a couple of days. What happened to ‘time heals all wounds’? Cracking open the lukewarm can, he took a long, deep swallow.

  Danny was everywhere. If he closed his eyes, he could see him standing on the edge of the jetty, Kate in his arms, squealing and fighting him as he jumped into the water with her. He saw him crossing the lawn towards where he sat right now, wearing a lazy grin and the caramel brown leather jacket he found at an op-shop, the one Finn always referred to as his ‘pimp jacket’. He could see him polishing his cherry red 1972 Holden HQ Monaro GTS, detailing it with the precision only found in those truly in love.

  He took another shaky swig of beer and tried to push the memories aside again. It was a self-preservation mechanism. As much as it hurt to be here, he knew deep down that he really didn’t have any choice. If he wasn’t here, with everyone else, he didn’t know if he could make it through the next few days. Conversely, being here also made it so much harder, so much more real.

  Almost three years ago to the day, on that hot afternoon, in that peaceful, suburban street, Danny had blown a hole in his head with a gun that no one even knew he had.

  Chapter Two

  Max sipped on his third can. He had changed out of his jeans and thrown on a pair of board shorts. His t-shirt was untucked, hanging casually off his tanned, trim frame. He wiggled his toes in the heat, grateful for the freedom of bare feet. The incessant chirping of the cicadas drowned everything else out until they became like white noise, and he found himself getting drowsy in the thick, hot air.

  It had been unanimous that first year. Finn had suggested they spend the first anniversary of Danny’s death at the beach house. Danny’s parents, Nina and Jim, had been invited to join them, but had politely declined. That had turned out to be a blessing. Instead of the celebration of Danny’s life that Finn had wanted, it had turned into yet another maudlin struggle for understanding. They had talked all night and when the sun came up, they were none the wiser. They had searched for some kind of insight that they may have previously missed – collectively or individually – patching the story of Danny’s last few weeks together, but still finding a piece of the puzzle missing. They searched in vain for some microscopic inkling that would explain everything. Danny’s death had completely blindsided all of them. No one had seen it coming, there had been no indicators they could look back on and, with the benefit of hindsight, think “I knew then that he was going to kill himself”.

  His gaze swept out over the bay and he allowed the tranquillity of the water to wash over him, ironing out the creases in his brow and in his heavy heart.

  A car engine roused him and his gut clenched momentarily. He took another swig of beer. Time to make sure the mask was in place. Standing up slowly, he made his way down the wooden steps onto the lawn and up the side of the house towards the driveway. The cool grass was soothing beneath his bare feet. Danny’s Monaro eased down the cracked concrete drive, bursting forth through the trees, red paintwork gleaming in the afternoon sun. He swore he could see Danny behind the wheel, resplendent in flared jeans and striped hippie shirt, his dark blonde, shoulder length hair wavy and loose, grinning at him.

  He quickly blinked the memory away, but he couldn’t help the slow smile that tugged at the corner of his mouth as Finn climbed out of the car. Padding across the grass towards him, Max’s smile grew with each footstep. Finn was grinning back at him as he slammed the car door shut. He threw his arms around Max and slapped him good-naturedly on the back.

  “Hey stranger!” He stepped back, the grin fading slightly. “Wasn’t even sure you were coming – no one’s heard from you for a while. Thought you might’ve crossed the ditch without telling us.”

  Max peered at him sheepishly from behind his dark sunglasses. “Yeah, sorry about that, been busy. I meant to call but then I thought you’d kinda know I’d be here.”

  Finn nodded, clearly not convinced. He indicated the beer in Max’s hand. “Well, it’s good to see you. Got any more of those? I’m parched.”

  “I was a boy scout, remember? I came well prepared.”

  “Excellent.” Finn’s smile widened again. “I came over yesterday, stayed with Mitch in Nelson last night – remember Mitch?”

  “Yeah, I remember Mitch – didn’t realise he was in Nelson now. How’s he doing?”

  “He’s good. Moved down here last year sometime, so it was a good chance to catch up. Only trouble is, his new girlfriend’s tee-total – she won’t even let him have booze in the house. I’m gagging for a beer. Are we the first ones here?”

  “Yeah. I took the early ferry. When’s everyone else due?”

  “Kate’s coming over on the three o’clock sailing – gets in around six. I told her one of us would pick her up from the terminal. Gav and Lace have been road-tripping down south for the past week or so, they should be here sometime today.”

  They turned to make their way back around the side of the house. “Road-tripping?”

  “Just taking some time out from the rat-race. I’m guessing you heard about what happened?”

  “What do you mean?”

  Finn stopped. “Gav said he tried to call you – left you a message but he wanted to tell you in person, not by voicemail.”

  “Tell me what?”

  “Lace had a miscarriage.”

  Max’s heart sank. “What? I didn’t even know she was pregnant.”

  “I don’t think it was planned. They were waiting until the t
welve weeks were up before they told anyone, apparently. It happened a couple of weeks ago. I think that’s why they decided to take some time out and get away from Auckland for a bit.”

  “Jesus,” Max said, as they started walking slowly again. “Is she alright?”

  “Gav said she’s okay. He called when it happened. He was shaken up, obviously, but the doctor was pretty encouraging. No long-term repercussions expected.”

  Speechless, Max could only nod as they strolled slowly across the lawn. He mentally filtered through the voicemail messages he remembered receiving from Gavin, but there was no mention of a miscarriage. Damn it.

  “Anyway, what’s with the shaggy do?” Finn needled, changing the subject. He gave Max’s hair the once-over. “You been hanging out in the Coromandel?”

  “Something like that.”

  As they rounded the side of the house and the beauty of the private bay unfolded before them, Finn stopped. Staring at the view in forgotten wonder, he whistled, long and low.

  Max’s gaze followed Finn’s, squinting out over the water, watching the light play over the surface. Finn glanced over at him and Max could feel him probing beneath the façade, picking away at the scab. The acknowledgement passed silently between them.

  Almost three years. He should be here with us.

  Gavin navigated the narrow, winding road carefully, all too aware of Lacey’s delicate state. She had handled the past week on the road much better than he thought she would, and she seemed to be perking up the closer they got to the beach house. He knew she was looking forward to seeing everyone. So was he.

  She was still more tired than usual, forgoing her usual late nights for early ones, but some of her appetite was returning. As he now knew, losing a baby in the first trimester was common. It didn’t make it any easier, though. Surprise pregnancy or not, he was just starting to think he might be okay at this father thing after all, and then the possibility was cruelly snatched away.

  It was for the best, Lacey had insisted quietly. They could try again, later, when they were ready. Right at that very moment, he had never loved her more. There, in the depths of her despair, she had comforted him. It took everything he had in him to repay her in kind.

  Maybe being at the beach house would help take her mind off it. God knew, the beach house had a habit of obliterating any thoughts of anything else but Danny – previous anniversaries had testified to that. Danny always had a habit of making himself the centre of attention. He seemed to crave the limelight, in life and in death.

  The amount of hare-brained schemes that Danny had hatched over the years he had known him had to be in triple figures – and most of them had gotten Gavin into some kind of trouble. The beach house belonged to his parents, and this is where Danny had always been at his most relaxed. He was more at home here than anywhere else. It had seemed to bring out the best in him. Here was where he could see Danny the clearest – with friends who remembered him, who knew him the way he had known him. The pain of his loss was secondary. They would never know why he had killed himself, and he wished with all his heart that everyone would finally let it rest – let Danny rest. He had made a stupid mistake – he hadn’t asked for help. And although that would always hurt, he was determined not to lose sight of the friend he had known and loved. Danny had loved this place, and the energy drawing them all here was magnetic, just as Danny himself had been.

  He rounded the final bend slowly, spotting the hand-painted sign and the turning bay on the left. He pulled in and checked the road, heading down under the canopy of trees towards the house. Spying the Monaro parked on the lawn beside the house in its usual spot, he had to fight back the comparisons. Finn had it sparkling, as usual. Danny would have been impressed. Slowly, he pulled up beside the wood shed, piled high with chopped wood, ready for winter.

  As they got out and began to unpack the car, he took Lacey’s bag from her with a smile. She opened her mouth to object, but he shook his head.

  “I know – you’re fine. Just let me, okay?”

  She graciously gave in, and he leaned in to kiss her gently. Despite her bravado, he was still afraid he might break her if he was too rough.

  As they headed towards the back door at the end of the carport, they heard laughter. Detouring around the side of the house instead, they wandered down onto the lawn. Gavin’s heart immediately soared as he spied Max and Finn sitting on the grass, overlooking the beach. Finn was lying on his back, stretched out, hands laced behind his head. Max sat next to him, knees drawn up. They stood up as soon as they realised they had company, and Gavin’s smile grew. It had been about a week since he had last spoken to Finn, a hell of a lot longer since he had been in the same post code as Max.

  Before he could speak, Lacey was jogging over the lawn towards them and Gavin’s grin widened. The last few weeks seemed forgotten as she threw her arms around Finn.

  “Jeez, Lace!” Finn laughed, pulling her close. “Miss me?”

  “Like a fart in a space suit,” she chuckled, kissing his cheek as she pulled away. “How’s things?”

  “Not feeling the love, I gotta say,” he grinned as she turned to embrace Max in a similar fashion.

  Finn puckered up as Gavin got closer, and Gavin swatted him away. He dropped the bags he was holding to give him a brief hug instead.

  “What, no kiss?” Finn jibed.

  “You’ll need to buy me dinner first.”

  “Tease.”

  Gavin’s heart felt lighter just being near them. He was so relieved Max was here. He had been so distant recently. He was looking forward to catching up properly. While Max and Lacey greeted each other, he took the opportunity to give him the once-over. Max looked tanned and taut, which was a good sign, but he also had dark smudges under his blue eyes that belied the healthy exterior. His hair was longer than usual, making him look younger and at odds with the rest of them. He looked like the outsider he had become. The euphoria he felt just moments ago turned to sorrow. He had hoped this year would be different.

  “Did you lose your phone?” Lacey was asking Max.

  “Subtle, Lace.”

  “Well, we’ve left a hundred voicemail messages over the past couple of months!”

  Max rubbed at the stubble on his chin. “I know – I’m sorry. I’ve just been really busy.”

  “Yeah, well – whatever. Next time, at least let me know you’re still alive, alright? After you gave us a body swerve at New Years, I was about to call the cops.”

  “She was – I had to wrestle the phone off her.” Gavin nodded agreeably.

  “We didn’t even know where you were – if I’d known where to send them to start looking for you, I would’ve.”

  She reached up to grab Max’s earlobe, squeezing as he tried to wriggle free. “All joking aside, Max – that wasn’t cool. I was worried. Don’t do that again.”

  She let him go and he rubbed his ear, frowning. “Geez, back off, woman.”

  Lacey raised her eyebrows at him incredulously.

  “Sorry.”

  Max hadn’t been the same since Danny’s death. When he hadn’t turned up for their usual New Years Eve celebration, Gavin knew it was serious. This thing he was carrying around with him – the things he saw, the things he wouldn’t talk about – were weighing him down more and more. He wasn’t just pushing them all away, he was withdrawing from them.

  “We missed you at New Years,” Gavin said quietly, squeezing Max’s shoulder. “Where’ve you been anyway? Timbuktu?”

  “Close,” Max continued to rub his earlobe. “Doing some forestry work up around the East Cape. Cellphone reception was pretty much non-existent. Felt like Timbuktu, though.”

  “Don’t they have landlines up there?” Lacey asked pointedly.

  “Sorry – didn’t think. Got a little crazy for a while there.”

  Where Max was concerned, things had been crazy for a long time. The next few days would be rough, just like they were last year, just like they were probably going to be
next year, too. He tried not to think that far ahead. Lately, the future had a habit of being unreliable.

  Chapter Three

  The breeze was gentle and warm. Finn felt it skimming over the back of his neck, ruffling his short brown hair. He welcomed it, grateful for some relief from the heat. He sat out on the end of the jetty with Max and Gavin, drinking beer that was rapidly warming up in the afternoon sun. The mountains on the opposite shore looked so much closer from out here – like you could reach across the bay and touch them. The usually calm water undulated softly, thanks to the residual wash from the lunchtime ferry arriving down the coast in Picton. Gentle waves broke almost apologetically on the beach, muted by the sound of the ubiquitous cicadas.

  “I’m sorry,” Max was saying, shaking his head. “If I’d known what you guys were going through, I’d have tried to be there.”

  “There was nothing you could have done,” Gavin assured him. “But thanks. I was just getting used to the idea, y’know? We both were. And then, just as quickly – poof! Over.”

  Finn took a long swallow of beer to hide the discomfort he felt at talking about something so obviously painful.

  “I think getting out of the house was a good idea.” He glanced over at Gavin. “I mean, I don’t know anything about this kind of stuff, but she seems like she’s doing okay.”

  “It happens – it’s pretty common. One in four pregnancies end in miscarriage, did you know that? I didn’t.” Gavin took a sip of beer then stared at it in his hand, as if it held all the answers. “Hurts like hell, but you move on, y’know?”