The week ends peacefully, dully. Harding tries to relax on Saturday, but an expedition to the grocery store leaves her anxiety level high. She and Winnie explore the free children's museum, guiding small hands through interactive displays. They look at the butterflies, and Harding makes up stories to go along with each one Winnie point out: the blue one wanted to melt into sky, the red one flew through a fire to prove it was brave. There's even an exhibit on poisonous animals, many of which Harding knows quite a bit about.
She's watching Winnie play with other children on the indoor playground when her phone rings.
"Hey, it's me."
"I know a lot of Australian men," she says, keeping an eye on Winnie as she spins some sort of matching game. "You'll have to elaborate."
"It's Robert."
"Oh-ho. Someone's grumpy." his tone makes her smile. "What's up?"
"I'm at work."
"It's Saturday."
"Trust me, I know."
"So are you just calling to complain? One sec- Winnie! Give that back! Sorry, little beast was trying to take some kid's toy."
"D'you want to do something tomorrow?"
"It's supposed to be nice out; I was gonna take Win to a park if you want to come."
"There's a nice one near my building." He gives her the street name. It's in a considerably nicer area of town, close to the hospital.
"One-ish good for ya then? Are you going to be more happy than you are now?"
"Only if the weather is warm enough for you to wear shorts."
"Robert, you should really go."
He leans over the back of the couch."Come with me," he whines.
"You need to go spend some time with it."
"You'd make me go if it were your dad."
"My dad's a mean drunk."
"My dad's a distant doctor."
She sticker her head out the bathroom door, toothbrush in mouth. "So much more of a reason why you should go alone, get to know the man." she mumbled around spit before disappearing again.
"I told him you were coming."
The look on her face is much less accommodating when she reappears. "You did not."
"I did. He say he wants to meet you."
"You're fucking j- no."
"Why not? Give me one good reason why?"
The tenseness of a drawn-out subject arises between them. It hangs for a moment between their eyes, then snaps as she turns towards the kitchen.
"You know perfectly well why."
He begins to sigh in exasperation, then stops. Any good doctor knows how to deal with abuse victims on at least the most basic level. "It's all in your head, Wally." He comes up behind her and nuzzles her neck, arms snaking around her hips. "I promise you, anything you feel-"
"I know that." she snaps. "It's not about that. You know I'm rough around the edges."
"That's putting it lightly," he snorts. "But so what?"
"So you're not."
"So he'll be glad someone's whipping me into shape."
That's how she ends up sitting in a booth at a pub at four in the afternoon, Robert's arm around her. Her reverse-cornrows have been exchanged for one smooth french braid, and she's wearing a bra for once instead of just a swimsuit top under her shirt.
"Stop it."
"Stop what?"
"You're freaking out."
"So are you. Can I ask you a question?"
"What?"
"Is he where you got your stupid pommy nose from?"
"My nose is not pommy. Besides, he's Czech."
"Doesn't matter, mate. It's pretty pommy."
"Did you just call me mate."
"Yeah," she smiles mischievously up at him. "What you going to do about it?"
"I'm gonna get you for that!" his arm moves from her shoulder to her neck, crushing her to him as she shrieks with laughter and pushes him away.
"Sadly, he did inherit it from me."
Robert's arm loosens and he stands. "Dad. Hi."
The moment Wally sees him, she ceases to be nervous and slips into a different suit: the one that makes who she thinks of as "adults" like her. It's the mode that got her through school, that got her tips serving with older people at the restaurant, and it's the one she'll use now.
"Dad, this is Wal- Bowen?" he looks at her uncertainly.
"Bo is fine." she smiles brightly and offers a hand. "It's lovely to meet you sir."