Valery rolled over and surveyed Aimee's sleeping form. It was late Saturday night. The room was dark, save for the thin, weak rays of light that filtered in from the street lights. In three days their arrangement would be complete, and he prayed he'd done enough. He wanted to keep her. He wanted to ask her to come and live with him.
She mumbled something in her sleep. Her bright red hair fell over her face, and she clutched at the doona with long, slim fingers. She had white, white skin with freckles everywhere the sun had touched. The attraction he'd initially felt towards her had multiplied exponentially, and he now only needed to think about her to get uncomfortably hard.
Why had he wasted last Saturday night taking her to Miles' party? It had been stupid. He should have known she'd never fit in. And, really, what did it matter? She was enough, without kink, to satisfy him. He loved being with her. Making love to her. Waking up beside her.
What if she didn't want to stay with him? The thought was enough to panic him. Everyone thought he was this big, tough, strong man, but the reality was far from it. He craved love and security. A woman's touch. A child to raise, one that would refer to him as it's father.
He stroked her red hair absent mindedly. He knew his religion bothered her. She didn't understand faith in a higher being. It was the one issue that scared him, because he knew it had the power to come between them, and yet he couldn't quite bring himself to give it up.
Sure, he was a shitty Muslim. He had tattoos. He drank. He'd slept with multiple women and given sexual favours to a handful of men. He took drugs. He'd not once even attempted to fast for Ramadan and as for regular prayers, well, that was a joke. Ultimately, though, it was a part of his identity, and in much the way most Australians referred to themselves as 'Christian' despite not living a historically Christian lifestyle, he considered himself Muslim.
His ears pricked as he heard the sound of someone unlocking a screen door. Aimee's screen door. He glanced at her face in the dark. She was still sleeping, and he really didn't want to wake her, let alone to tell her that someone was about to enter her house.
Val slid out of bed and fumbled around for his pants. They were aggravatingly elusive. He now had two choices; go and find out who was at the front door naked, or hide out in the bedroom like a sitting duck, waiting to see who was breaking in.
He chose the first option. He padded out to the open plan lounge, dining and kitchen area, and flicked on the light. He grabbed a knife from the kitchen and walked over to the front door, just as it swung open.
The middle aged woman on the other side stared at him shock. Val stared back, frozen in place. Suddenly, the woman swore, slammed the door shut and disappeared from view. Valery stood in the middle of the lounge room, knife in hand, his heart pounding. What the fuck had just happened?
Very slowly, the front door was unlocked again, and pushed opened a few centimetres.
'Is Aimee awake?' the woman asked.
It occurred to Valery that this must be her mother. Of course. Who else would have the keys to her house?
'No,' he said. 'Should I wake her up?'
'I need Ben's asthma inhaler. He's run out, and he's woken up wheezy. I tried finding an overnight pharmacy, but they all close by ten. It's ten past eleven, so I had no choice but to come by. I thought I might just let myself in and out without waking anyone.'
'Hang on,' he said. 'I'll get dressed.'
He went to the bedroom and located his clothes. Aimee remained asleep. He thought about waking her, but immediately dismissed the idea. There was no reason to bother her.
When he returned to the front door, the woman had a young boy with her. Ben. He clung to his grandmother's hand, and glanced up at Valery nervously.
'Come in,' Valery offered. 'Sorry. I thought someone was breaking in.'
'I should have called,' she apologised, as she stepped inside. 'We'll just be a minute.'
Ben followed his grandmother, a suspicious expression on his face as he inspected Val. 'Who are you?' he demanded.
'Um, Val,' he replied.
'What are you doing at my Mum's house?'
Val stared helplessly at Aimee's mother. The woman just shrugged, and headed opened a kitchen drawer and started rummaging through it. What the hell was he supposed to say?
'I'm a friend,' he said.
'Do you have kids?' Ben prodded.
Ben had the same hazel eyes as his mother, and they narrowed in exactly the same way hers did when she was asking a question. He had the same slim build as her, too, but his face was different, and his skin was the colour of milky coffee.
'I have a daughter.'
His nose wrinkled. 'I was hoping there might be a boy here.'
'Uh no. My daughter's in Melbourne, with her mother.'
There was an awkward silence while the two inspected each other. Aimee's mother continued to rummage around in the kitchen, and Aimee remained unfortunately asleep. Val would have given anything for her to wake up and fix the awkwardness.
'Found it,' Aimee's mother called out. 'Ben, come here.'
Ben sulked. 'I don't need it.'
'You do. You were wheezing.'
'I wasn't!'
His grandmother glared, shoved the inhaler in his mouth, and depressed the button. The expression on Ben's face was pure Aimee, and Val smiled involuntarily.
'I'm Tina, by the way,' the woman said. 'It's nice to meet you.'
'And you,' he replied. 'Did you want a coffee?'
'I want a Fanta,' Ben said, pulling his face away from the inhaler. 'My puffer makes my mouth taste yuck.'
'No, we're going to take this and go back to my house,' Tina said, waving the puffer in the boy's house. 'It's the middle of the night. You need to go to sleep.'
'I don't want to go back to your house,' Ben argued. 'I want to stay here. Where's Mum? I want to see her.'
'She's sleeping,' Tina said. 'You can see her tomorrow. It's time to go. Say 'good-bye' to Al.'
'You just want me to go,' Ben surmised.
