If she got through the questions about Grant, the next question from her family would be about the clinic, and she’d have to lie about that too. Over the last few days she’d had four no-shows and three last-minute cancellations. It was unbelievable. It felt like a concerted attack. What was wrong with people? She had a carefully worded cancellation policy on her website but it was difficult to charge patients who she’d never even seen for an initial consultation. If she told her parents, they would be so enthusiastically sympathetic. They would remind her of the ladies who used to book private tennis lessons and then cancel five minutes before. It was selfish of her not to give her parents the opportunity to pleasurably reminisce about the early days of Delaneys but Brooke couldn’t bear to hear their helpful tips, to see their furrowed brows as they brainstormed strategies. The added weight of their hopes for her success was too much to bear.
She opened her car door a fraction, put one foot on the ground, breathed in the scented spring air and wondered if she should text Grant to remind him about his hay fever medication. Was that the way one behaved during an ‘amicable’ separation?
Logan’s car was already parked in the driveway. The others would be arriving any minute. The Delaneys were extraordinarily punctual, even Amy, who might arrive hungover or depressed or in some other way incapacitated, but right on time. A good tennis player was punctual. Don’t leave the other competitors sitting around waiting for you.
As she watched, Logan came out the front door. He smiled, lifted a hand and walked towards her car. He looked kind of old today. His grey sideburns glistened in the sunlight as he ducked down to see her.
‘Have you been sent out on an errand already?’ she asked.
‘Mum wants me to buy two bottles of mineral water.’ Logan opened her car door the full way and stood back. ‘You need me to take anything inside for you?’
‘We don’t need mineral water,’ said Brooke. She picked up the green salad she’d made that no-one would eat from the passenger seat, together with her Father’s Day gift: a travel-sized massage ball her dad would say was what he’d always wanted, but that her mother would probably re-gift back to Brooke one day. ‘We can just drink tap water.’
‘Mum says she’s noticed that people always expect sparkling water these days,’ said Logan as she got out, the salad bowl under her arm, the gift balanced on top of the clingwrap.
‘There are no people coming. It’s just us.’
‘Just us.’ Logan paused. ‘And Savannah. Our new friend.’ He looked back at the car. ‘Where’s Grant?’
He’s got a bad cold. He’s sick with a cold. He’s very sick with a very bad cold.
‘We’re having a trial separation.’ She really needed to work on strengthening her lying muscles.
Logan blanched. ‘Oh, wow, I’m sorry.’ He took a step towards her as if he was going to hug her, but they weren’t a hugging family so he didn’t know how to complete the move. ‘That’s terrible news. That’s quite a shock.’ He ran his palm along the side of his jaw. ‘Are you okay?’
‘Well,’ Brooke shifted the salad bowl onto her hip, ‘he hasn’t died.’
‘Still. It’s a shock.’ He seemed genuinely, properly upset. ‘I didn’t see that coming.’
‘I didn’t either.’ An understatement.
‘Mum loves him,’ said Logan. She could sense him trying not to sound accusatory but it was as if Brooke had broken one of their mother’s favourite belongings and he didn’t want her to feel bad about it, but he felt bad for their mother.
It was true that Joy and her only son-in-law seemed to have a special connection, and that Grant made a point of being especially charming with Joy, and Joy went along with it, but Brooke had always wondered how much her mother was truly falling for Grant’s charm offensive. Her mother, unlike Brooke, was a fine actress. She’d had all those years dealing with the parents of the tennis students, making them feel like their children were all remarkable.
Brooke put the salad and gift down on the bonnet of her car so she could irritably scratch her nose. ‘It’s only a trial separation. We might get back together, so I’m not telling anyone yet. I don’t want to upset Mum and Dad unnecessarily.’
‘Good idea.’ Logan shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans and rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet, chewing on the inside of his mouth, like he used to do before a match.