How To Trap a Parent. Joan Kilby

Jane bought a microwave and a new electric kettle to replace the one with the frayed cord. It was a miracle Esther hadn’t electrocuted herself instead of dying of a heart attack.

      She and Mary Kate carried their purchases back to her Mazda and stowed them in the trunk. Then they went across the street to a café with a small outdoor courtyard, its tables sheltered by market umbrellas. Jane picked up a menu and handed one to Mary Kate.

      Here, in the center of town, two main roads came together in a T-junction lined by shops that made way for houses after a couple of blocks in any direction. Beyond the sparse habitation were woods broken up by rolling countryside planted with grapevines or pastureland dotted with placidly grazing sheep and cows. To the east the land rose to the promontory known as Arthur’s Seat.

      A comfortably round dark-haired woman in her late fifties came out of the café and stood over the table. “What can I get you ladies today?”

      Jane glanced up. “Mrs. Roberts!”

      “Jane Linden?” Valerie Roberts said. “Is that you?”

      Jane’s heart sank. She’d always believed Cole’s mother didn’t like her. Jane had been the outsider, the would-be usurper of Leslie’s rightful place as Cole’s wife.

      “I’m so sorry about your aunt,” Valerie went on. “Leslie and I came to the funeral but we missed paying our respects to you afterward.”

      “I had to rush off. My flight back to L.A. left early the next morning.” And being polite to Leslie and Valerie in that difficult time would have been too much. Even now Jane’s smile grew stiff. “Thank you for the flowers. They were lovely.” She turned to her daughter. “This is Mary Kate. Mary Kate, this is Cole’s mother. Your grandmother.”

      “Hi.” Mary Kate eyed Valerie curiously as if trying to associate this woman with the cards she’d received like clockwork every birthday.

      “It’s so lovely to see you again,” Valerie gushed. “My, how you’ve grown.”

      Mary Kate grimaced. “Everybody says that.”

      “You weren’t at the funeral, were you?” Valerie asked.

      “I didn’t come. I had a solo in the school concert,” Mary Kate explained.

      “I wish I could have heard you sing.” Valerie continued to study Mary Kate with embarrassing intensity. “It’s been so long. Photos don’t really do her justice. She’s the spitting image of Cole. There’s no doubt she’s her father’s daughter.”

      “Not a particle,” Jane said tightly. How many boys did Valerie think she’d slept with at age seventeen? “I’d like the Thai beef salad and a latte. What do you want, Mary Kate?”

      “I’ll have the ham and Swiss cheese on focaccia. And a chocolate milk shake. And a piece of almond-and-orange cake for dessert.”

      Chuckling, Valerie jotted down their order. “A sweet tooth, just like Cole. I have to say I’m glad you’re out of Los Angeles and away from that terrible smog. I worried about you and asthma.”

      Jane started. “How did you know she had asthma?” She’d never mentioned it to Cole for fear he’d be critical of her for staying in L.A., even though the doctors had said smog hadn’t caused Mary Kate’s condition.

      “I didn’t,” Valerie said. “I was concerned because Cole had it as a child.”

      “I’m over it now,” Mary Kate volunteered.

      “Well, that’s a relief.” Valerie beamed at them. “I’ll get your drinks right away.” She glanced over Jane’s shoulder. “Excuse me, someone’s signaling me.”

      “Don’t you like her?” Mary Kate asked when Valerie had hurried away. “You weren’t very friendly.”

      “She’s a nice woman. She’s just so…” Jane trailed off, not wanting to taint her daughter’s relationship with her grandmother. But when Jane had turned out to be pregnant, Valerie had come to Esther, and the two women had had a long discussion over what to do with her. Jane had never known anything so humiliating. As if she’d want help from the Roberts family after Cole had rejected her. “You know small towns,” she finished vaguely.

      Valerie came back in a few minutes with the latte and Mary Kate’s milk shake. Mercifully she was busy and couldn’t stop to talk.

      “Mmm, this is good.” Mary Kate happily slurped her milk shake through a straw.

      “The coffee’s not bad, either,” Jane had to admit. It was as good as any in Melbourne.

      A clip-clop sounded on the pavement and half a block up the road a pair of horses ridden by young girls in riding boots and hard hats walked out of the bush, crossed the road and disappeared down another trail.

      Mary Kate leaned out from the table to follow their progress. “Wow! Did you see that? If we stay in Red Hill, can I get a horse?”

      “What happened to your separation anxiety from the mall?” Jane asked wryly.

      “That was before I knew there were horses.”

      “Your father has horses. You probably don’t remember sitting on one when you were five.” Jane added, “But we’re not staying. You know that.”

      Valerie returned with their salad and focaccia and set the plates of food on the table. Apparently the same question was on her mind. “Will you be in Red Hill long?”

      “Only as long as it takes to deal with Esther’s effects and sell the farm,” Jane replied.

      “You’re selling Cockatoo Ridge?” Hope lifted Valerie’s voice. “Is Cole going to make an offer on it?”

      “He’s said nothing to me about that,” Jane replied.

      Silently, Valerie took cutlery rolled in napkins from her apron pocket and laid them beside the plates. When she spoke again she changed the subject. “I suppose you know Cole and Leslie are divorced. He has primary custody of Stephanie but he still pays Leslie a monthly sum for expenses. He helps me out occasionally and Joey’s always borrowing money.”

      Jane spread her napkin on her lap, quietly fuming. Did Valerie think she intended to shake Cole down for child support in arrears? She’d raised Mary Kate for twelve years without asking for a cent and she had no intention of taking money from him now. Determined to put a halt to Valerie’s innuendos, she said to Mary Kate, “Go wash your hands before you eat.”

      “But—” Mary Kate started to object.

      “The washrooms are inside the café at the back,” Valerie told her. Mary Kate had no choice but to leave.

      Jane put down her knife and fork and looked Valerie straight in the eye. “My dealings with Cole are strictly business. He’s selling the farm for me. Once that’s done, Mary Kate and I are leaving and not coming back. You don’t need to worry. He has no obligation to me and Mary Kate, financial or otherwise. I want nothing from him.”

      “That’s not what I meant.” Valerie’s face fell in dismay. “I’m so sorry if you thought that.”

      “Then what are you trying to say?” Jane asked.

      “Only to assure you that Cole lives up to his responsibilities. That despite his other financial obligations, he’ll want Mary Kate to feel like a full-fledged part of his family.” Valerie worried at the tie on her black apron. “Of course I don’t mean she’s an obligation. He’s thrilled to have her back in his life. All of us—Cole, Stephanie, me, Joey, Crystal, welcome Mary Kate.”

      “I see,” Jane said, relaxing. “That’s nice.”

      “And you never know what will happen now that Cole and Leslie aren’t together,” Valerie went on, her smile returning. “You and he were fond of one another once.”

      Jane