The Lunchtime Special

Chapter 5 - A Mother's Tricks

"Warner has been off form ever since the test against the Windies."

"I don't think he's fully recovered from that knee injury."

"Well, they should put Finch in his place until he's up to speed."

"You're only saying that because he's from Victoria."

Oh lord. I look at mum and we both roll our eyes at the two men debating the form – or lack of – of our national cricket team. Gathering dinner plates and cutlery, I stand up to take them to the kitchen when suddenly Jake's on his feet and reaching to remove them from my hands. "What are you doing?"

"Helping clear the table."

"Oh no," I shake my head, seeing mum escape with empty serving dishes and giving me a sympathetic grin as she leaves. "You're staying right here."

"Why?" His eyes widen as we play tug of war with the dirty dishes.

"So you can keep dad company," I improvise, noticing not for the first time how the lighting in here warms his eyes and adds rich highlights to his hair. What kind of magical light bulbs are my parents using, anyway?

"That's code, Jake," my dad contributes, sounding amused. "The ladies want to talk about us in the privacy of their domain."

"Dad!" Seriously!

"Really?" Jake's eyes widen even further and he finally relinquishes the plates.

"Of course not!" I hasten to say, feeling warm in the cheeks. "We just can't stand hearing any more about who scored a hundred runs off ten balls."

Dad guffaws, Jake raises his brows and grins. "You know that's pretty much impossible, right?"

"Whatever," I mutter, hearing laughter behind me as I escape out the door. "What is it about that stupid game that men find so fascinating?" I ask my mother, placing the dishes beside the sink and picking up a tea towel.

"Honey, that's a question I've been asking myself for the past thirty-five years." We wash and dry in silence for a while. "So, tell me again how the brother of Will's fiancé ended up helping you paint your spare room?" The look on her face was one I'd seen before – I call it her 'mother-intent-on-fixing-her-offspring-up' look and I was keen to quash any matchmaking ideas she was harbouring as quickly as possible.

"He and Laila dropped in to return something and invite me to lunch, then ended up staying to help paint instead."

"So if Laila helped paint as well, why is she not here at this...thank you dinner?"

Groan! I couldn't lie to her – well, I could, but the chances of any fabrication being uncovered were high enough that it would only make matters worse – so I didn't. "Laila didn't help paint, it was just Jake."

"Oh, I see." And that was it, she didn't add any more, just that unnerving 'I see', said in a tone that told me she saw a hell of a lot more than I wanted her to and probably more than was actually there to see in the first place. Some days there were distinct disadvantages to still living in the same small town as my parents. Today was definitely one of those days.

With the dishes finished we make coffee and I carry it in while mum brings in the cake. Jake gives me a sweet smile when I hand him his cup and a momentary weakness in my knees makes me spill a few drops – on the carpet, luckily, not on him. Must be an old netball injury playing up. I stay fairly quiet, wrapped in my thoughts, until something alerts me to my mother's question. "So you're flying back to Melbourne tomorrow Jake?"

"No, I've teed up some business meetings in Sydney over the next couple of days," he replies, accepting the second slice of cake she offers. "So I'm here till Wednesday."