Read Online The Fine Color of Rust by Paddy O'Reilly - Free Book Online

while I represent a dignified insufficiency.
    Tammy’s husband rarely comes home because he’s so busy being successful. When he does arrive he’s late, and Tammy’s favorite nickname for him is “my late husband.” “Allow me to introduce ‘my late husband,’” she announces to startled guests. Her husband smiles distantly and gives her a shoulder squeeze like she’s an athlete. Last time the kids and I came down we ate luncheon—not the meat but the meal—at their place on Sunday. Jake swallowed a mouthful of the smokedtrout and dill pasta and before it even reached his stomach he had puked it back into the plate. It looked much the same as before he had chewed it, but the sight of the regurgitation had Tammy’s delicate children heaving and shrieking. “Haven’t they ever seen anyone chunder before?” Melissa remarked scornfully on the way home.
    My mother turns her attention to Melissa. “And you, young lady, are you doing well at school?”
    Melissa looks at her grandmother with an arched eyebrow.
    â€œYes, Grandmother,” she answers.
    â€œI won’t have any granddaughter of mine being a dunce.”
    Melissa turns her head and gives me a dead stare. I can’t believe she’s only eleven.
    â€œAll right,” I intervene briskly, “let’s talk about you, Mum. How are you feeling? When do you get out?”
    â€œI’m yellow, in case you hadn’t noticed.”
    â€œCan I get a packet of chips too?” Melissa says, so I give her some money and tell her to find Jake while she’s at it.
    â€œGood.” My mother pushes herself upright in the bed as soon as Melissa has left the ward. “Now the children are gone we can talk. I’m going to sell up and move to Queensland, the Gold Coast. Albert’s bought a house on the canals with a swimming pool and a sauna. My liver’s packing up. I don’t know how I got this hepatitis thing, but I can only guess it was from your father all those years ago. That lying cheat. Apparently it’s contagious. You and the kids had the test like I told you?”
    â€œYes, we’re fine. Who’s Albert?” I am incredulous.
    â€œHe’s from the bingo. He’s no great catch, I admit that, but who else is offering me a house in the sunshine?”
    â€œNot the one with the five Chihuahuas? The one you used to make jokes about?”
    â€œHaving those dogs doesn’t actually mean he’s homosexual. He’s quite virile for an older gentleman.”
    â€œOh, Mum, enough detail. And why can’t you say this in front of the kids?”
    â€œYou need to tell them in your own time. I know they’ll be upset I’m leaving, but when they get older they’ll understand.”
    â€œI’ll break it to them gently.” I don’t want to point out that we only come down to Melbourne at Christmas and her birthday anyway.
    â€œTammy and Patsy’ll miss you,” I say. “And the junior poets.”
    My mother almost smiles before she says, “I love Tammy’s children dearly, you know that, Loretta.”
    â€œI know.”
    â€œAnyway, when I sell, I’m giving you a few thousand dollars. Don’t tell Tammy or Patsy. You need it, they don’t.”
    From down the corridor comes a long howl, followed by grievous sobbing.
    â€œThey torture people in here, you know,” Mum says. “The nights are hell. The screaming and moaning, it’s like being inside a horror film.”
    I have a bad feeling that I recognize that howl. But rather than spoil the moment, I think about the good things.
    â€œA few thousand dollars?” I say.
    â€œDepending on the price I get for the flat. You’ll get something, anyway. Five or six thousand, maybe.”
    A holiday for one—or two?—in Bali, I think. Or an air conditioner. Or both! A proper haircut and blond tips! A bra that