2022-08-02 - Home

"Have you looked yet?" Tui wondered.

"No."

"You'll know when, I imagine."

Would he? Mikaere was still hyper-aware of his skin. He'd nearly passed out with pain diving into the surf that morning, heeding Tui's reminders that salt water would help with the healing: between the cold and the salt-burn, he'd lost his breath altogether.

None of that meant his fingers hadn't started to explore, tracing whorls this way and that. He hadn't looked, but since when had he needed his eyes to see?

Besides, there was still time for that.

When he was ready.

The trip home was agony, too. Even with a gel cushion to perch on, he could feel the burn of the ridges carved into his butt with constant, agonising sharpness. The drive back to Nelson; the flight. He retreated into his mind as much as he could, and Tui allowed it: she stopped talking, leaving him alone to his thoughts.

By the time they pulled in to Turama Road, though, he was done.

"Go and rest," said Tui. "I'll put Maia and Nik off until Saturday."

"And Laura?"

Tui hesitated over her answer, here. "It might give her closure," she said, finally. "But there's no pressure there. You know that, Mikaere. You don't owe her anything, not anymore."

"But you think I should?"

"It might help. That's all. It's up to you."

He nodded. Later, laying on his stomach on his childhood bed, he thought it through.

Finally, he sent the text.

(TXT to Laura) Mikaere : Yeah. Just until the end of the weekend, though.

(TXT to Mikaere) Laura : Can we talk?

(TXT to Laura) Mikaere : Sure, I guess. Coffee tomorrow?

He walked to Onehunga and then caught the train in to Britomart, standing the whole way. It felt good to stretch his legs, though his healing skin stretched and ached when he moved. Still— he needed it. He'd chosen Amano, near the station and down by the harbour, because of the standing tables outside, not trusting his ability to sit without Laura picking anything up. He couldn't— he couldn't explain.

He beat her there, ordering his usual flat white and her skinny double shot latte with a squirt of almond (ew). She arrived a few minutes later, dressed in a way he knew was deceptively casual: jeans and a white shirt, sure, but individually worth significantly more than his weekly wage back in Gray Harbor.

"You look well," she told him, leaning in to air kiss his cheeks, and press her hand to his shoulder.

"So do you." True enough, as it went.

"I didn't think you'd come back."

"I'm not here to stay."

She frowned at him, picking up her coffee and watching him over its rim. "Why? What keeps you there? Tui says you're happy."

"I am... I don't know, Laura, I can't explain that. I just am. New Zealand is home, but right now... I need something different."

"Are you running away from me?"

"It's got nothing to do with you, Laura. It's about me."

She looked at him.

"I don't understand what happened between us, Mik."

"Laura..."

"No. Seriously, Mik. I don't understand what happened. I always knew there were things you kept from me, but I didn't think— it came out of nowhere."

"For me, too."

"Explain it to me?"

"I can't."

"Why?"

"Because— it's complicated, and it's personal. None of it was ever anything about you, Laura. It was always me. I realised I needed something different in life."

"And you couldn't let me try?"

"I— no. I'm sorry."

"Tui says you're seeing someone."

"Yeah."

"What's she like?"

"Laura!"

"What? I want to know. I want to understand. Who it is you prefer over the woman you vowed to love and honour."

"Jules has nothing to do with what happened between you and I. Whether she existed or not, you and I would still be done."

"Jules."

"Jules. Yeah. Her name is Jules. She's— I'm not getting into this, Laura. It doesn't matter. You need to move on."

"You're really done with me."

"Yeah. I'm sorry, Laura, but... yeah."

She shook her head.

He said nothing.

And then it was family time. Maia and Ma, fighting like cats and dogs, the way they always did; Nik and his beer, his wife chatting easily to Maia's husband, keeping an eye on the children. Mikaere— it felt good to be there.

"So they really gave you a visa, letting you stay?"

"Yeah, for now."

"And you're just... what, parking boats?"

"Sort of. For now."

"Bit of a different path for you."

"Sometimes we always need a change."

Nik shook his head. He'd never understand.

---

"Your glow changed," murmured Angela, staring at her uncle across the table. It was just them, for now: uncle and niece.

"You can see that, huh?"

"I can see a lot of things," she told him, smug. "I can see all your power. You're stronger. You're like granny, now, only you do different things."

"You'll be more like granny," Mikaere commented, and was amused by her nod of confirmation, utterly composed.

"Just like granny. I'll have a moko like hers, too, one day. Is that why you came back? For yours?"

He nodded.

"Can I see it?"

"It's healing."

"I could heal it for you."

"Granny wouldn't like it if you did."

She frowned, and then nodded. "Some things need to heal naturally. Is it going to hurt, when you fly away?"

"Yeah. I think it will."

She nodded again.

An eerie child, young Angela.

"Have you looked yet?" Tui wondered.

"No."

"You'll wait, and look with Jules," she concluded, with a smile.

It hadn't been his plan, but— Mikaere hesitated.

"You could," she said. "You'll be back with her, soon enough. Home."

"Home," he repeated, and she gave him a long, searching glance.

"Home is within you, my son. Home is where you are, and where you need to be. And here? We will always be here, waiting for you."

He felt a pang, as Aotearoa disappeared beneath the plane, growing smaller and smaller out the window until he couldn't see it at all.

Home. Home?

How could it ever be both?