Big Little Lies(30)

“You already called him?” said Madeline. Color rose in her cheeks. “You arranged this without asking me?”
“I asked Dad,” said Abigail. She came around the side of the table and gave Madeline a kiss on the cheek. “Bye, Mum.”
“Nice to meet you.” Abigail smiled at Jane. You couldn’t help but like her.
“Abigail Marie!” Madeline stood up from the table. “This is unacceptable. You don’t just get to choose where you’re going to spend the night.”
Abigail stopped. She turned around.
“Why not?” she said. “Why should you and Dad get to choose who gets the next turn of me?” Jane could again see a resemblance to Madeline in the way Abigail quivered with rage. “As if I’m something you own. Like I’m your car and you get to share me.”
“It’s not like that,” began Madeline.
“It is like that,” said Abigail.
There was another beep of the horn from outside.
“What’s going on?” A middle-aged man strolled into the kitchen, wearing a wet suit rolled down to his waist, revealing a broad, very hairy chest. He was with a little boy who was dressed exactly the same way, except his chest was skinny and hairless. He said to Abigail, “Your dad is out front.”
“I know that,” said Abigail. She looked at the man’s hairy chest. “You should not walk around like that in public. It’s disgusting.”
“What? Showing off my fine physique?” The man banged a proud fist against his chest and smiled at Jane. She smiled back uneasily.
“Revolting,” said Abigail. “I’m going.”
“We’ll talk more about this later!” said Madeline.
“Whatever.”
“Don’t you whatever me!” called out Madeline. The front door slammed.
“Mummy, I am starved to death,” said the little boy.
“Have a muffin,” said Madeline gloomily. She sank back down into her chair. “Jane, this is my husband, Ed, and my son, Fred. Ed, Fred. Easy to remember.”
“Because they rhyme,” clarified Fred.
“Gidday,” said Ed. He shook Jane’s hand. “Sorry about the ‘disgusting’ sight of me. Fred and I have been surfing.” He sat down next to Madeline and put his arm around her. “Abigail giving you grief?”
Madeline pressed her face against his shoulder. “You’re like a wet, salty dog.”
“These are good.” Fred took a gigantic bite from his muffin while simultaneously snaking out his hand and taking a second one. Jane would bring extra next time.
“Mummy! We neeeeeed you!” Chloe called from down the hallway.
“I’m going to go ride my skateboard.” Fred took a third muffin.
“Helmet,” said Madeline and Ed at the same time.
“Mummy!” Chloe shouted.
“Coming!” said Madeline. “Talk to Jane, Ed.”
She went off down the hallway.
Jane prepared herself to carry the conversation, but Ed grinned easily at her, took a muffin and settled back in his chair. “So you’re Ziggy’s mum. How’d you come up with the name Ziggy?”
“My brother suggested it,” said Jane. “He’s a big Bob Marley fan and I guess Bob Marley called his son Ziggy.” She paused, remembering the miraculous weight of her new baby in her arms, his solemn eyes. “I liked that it was kind of out-there. My name is so dull. Plain Jane and all that.”
“Jane is a beautiful, classic name,” said Ed very definitely, making her fall in love with him just a little. “In point of fact, I had ‘Jane’ on my list when we were naming Chloe, but I got overruled, and I’d already won on ‘Fred.’”
Jane’s eyes were caught by a wedding photo on the wall: Madeline wearing a champagne-colored tulle dress, sitting on Ed’s lap, both of them had their eyes screwed shut with helpless laughter.
“How did you and Madeline meet?” she asked to make conversation.
Ed brightened. It was obviously a story he liked to tell.
“I lived across the street from her when we were kids,” he said. “Madeline lived next door to a big Lebanese family. They had six sons: big strapping boys. I was terrified of them. They used to play cricket in the street, and sometimes Madeline would join in. She’d come trotting out, half the size of these big lumps, and she’d have ribbons in her hair and those shiny bangles, well you know what she’s like, the girliest girl you’d ever seen, but my God, she could play cricket.”
He put down his muffin and stood up to demonstrate. “So out she’d come, flick, flick of the hair, flounce, flounce of the dress, and she’d take the bat, and next thing, WHAM!” He slammed an imaginary cricket bat. “And those boys would fall to their knees, clutching their heads.”