Mark DeLancey

Chapter 10

I pulled into my drive late one night after work and sat back, tired, thinking about my day. Looking across the neighbours lawn I noticed the sheen of chrome. I stared. It was dark but I was fairly sure that was Mark's motorbike.

So. He was back.

I still felt embarrassed thinking about the last time I saw him. The attempted kiss. Throwing up. Wonderful memories. I wasn't as mortified now. I could probably even say hello to him. If he talks to me, after the way I ignored him.

As I sat there, the outdoor light went on lighting up his front lawn. He came out the door, down the steps and went round the corner to put something in the bin. He was shirtless, and I sat caught like a hare in the headlights.

He turned back and stood still when he saw my car. I wondered if I could shrink down. Maybe he wouldn't see me. I'm sure I could face most things these days but a shirtless Mark was only asking for trouble.

He didn't move. I was starting to feel silly. What if he could see me? He was looking. He was most likely waiting for me to make a move. Finally, I pushed my door open and got out. I shut it behind me and gave a little wave.

"Hi."

"Hey," he gave a little wave back.

I stood awkwardly leaning against the car then started walking towards my house.

"Well, see ya."

"Did you just finish work?" He called after me.

I turned. "Yeh."

"Feel like a coke?"

I stood still, hesitant.

"No."

His shoulders sagged a little in the dim light.

"I could go a beer though. You want one?"

"Sure." He perked up and started toward me.

"Yeh, go and put a shirt on first." No way was he coming near me like that.

"Oh, okay. Be over in a sec."

"Sure."

So that was how Mark DeLancey and I were reacquainted.

We sat at my kitchen table drinking Sol's and for the first time started to get to know each other better.

He asked about my job and life. There wasn't a lot to tell. Finally, I asked about his job. Where did he go years at a time?

"Oil rigs." He said.

He told me about the rigs and going out to sea on a helicopter. About the heights and how he was a roustabout for many years. Now he's a driller. He had worked mostly in this country but he traveled to another for a few years. It's why he wasn't home much.

I also learnt more about his family. His dad passed away when he was 11 and it changed everything for him. It was sudden and hit his mother hard. He found himself alone most of the time while his mother worked more as a way to escape her grief.

I had never realised how much of a loner he was. He liked the oil rigs because it was hard work and long hours. He could lose himself in it. I wondered if he realised how like his mum he was.

When midnight came around, I made us toasted cheese sandwiches, like he had done all those years ago. Only mine weren't nearly as good.

It was very late or early, whichever, when he said he better go.

"Are you working tomorrow?" he asked.

"Nope, I have a whole weekend off!" That was rare.

"Cool. Maybe I'll see you then."

I hesitated for a bit then before I changed my mind I asked him what he was doing tomorrow.

He shook his head. "Nothing interesting."

"Want to come yabbying?"

"Yabbying?"

"Yep. Down in Connor's field."

"Where doya go yabbying there?"

"You'll see. Doya wanna come or not?"

He smiled. "Yeah okay."

"Good. About 2?"

"I'll come over."