“No,” Fenny scorned as she turned to the large Maine Coon cat that was hovering one of his giant paws above her keyboard. He looked offended, pondered a moment, and gently placed his paw back on the desk. “Go and find something else to do,” she added, grabbing an abandoned hair band and lobbing it out the door. The cat flew off the desk, kicking up a stack of half finished sketches and scooted out of the room. She turned back to her monitor and frowned at the DVD menu she was working on. The Minions were a lot of fun, unless you’d been staring at them for 3 days. At that point they became little yellow devils who needed taken out into the desert and eaten by coyotes. A ping sounded out to indicate a new instant message, which she reluctantly clicked on and groaned loudly. It was from her boss, and it outlined her next job. Another DVD menu. 50 Shades of Grey.

“Great, I’ll chuck in some Minions,” she sighed and got to her feet. Snatching up a pencil as she left her study, Fenny twisted her hair up into a messy bun and used the pencil to secure it. Working from home had seemed like a very good idea at the time. She had definitely enjoyed moving out of LA and finding her lovely little house in the Arizona desert. The isolation had been welcoming and had given her time to deal with many an aspect of her life. Mostly that it was much easier to deal with all those many aspects when they were miles away from you. Sometimes those aspects liked to creep right back into her life for strange memorable moments. Like when her parents had visited and her Dad got lost for 48 hours and they found him delirious and insisting that a cactus stole his Go Pro. Or when Brad would pop in because he was ‘passing’ and they’d spend an entire weekend eating nachos, watching bad music countdowns, and making love. Fenny paused as she reached the fridge and smiled. Some aspects were better than others. She opened the door and glanced at the contents and grabbed a bottle of cold water as she realised she wasn’t alone. Nash, her Australian Shepard, was sitting there, watching her with an expectant look on his face.

“Aw poor Nashy,” she cooed and rubbed his head, moving her hand to scratch behind his ear. “I’ve got a little left to do, and then we can go and chase chipmunks.” Nash gave her hand an accepting lick and took himself off into the living room to sprawl out on the rug. Fenny grabbed a bag of pretzels and sauntered back to her study. She dropped the pretzels on the desk and settled her water beside them. “Ok, Minions, a few more tweaks and you are…” she was cut off by the cat returning. He leapt onto the desk and dropped a damp, twitching rodent on her keyboard. “Crosby!” she yelped, leaping back up. “We have got to talk about boundaries.” The cat poked the rodent with his paw and mewed, pleased with his gift.

Gina was suddenly feeling very hot. Choking hot, actually. Her eyes sprung open and she gasped, eagerly sucking in air. “Jesus fuck,” she panted as at the small ginger cat that had been suffocating her 20 seconds ago plonked himself on her face. “Chip, are you trying to kill me, because it seems like you’re very close to succeeding.” The tiny cat tapped her mouth with his paw. “Please stop.” He licked her nose. “I hate you,” she groaned and grabbed her phone from where it was charging on the bedside table. The screen seemed to be filled with messages, and she tried to read them through half-opened eyes. According to Facebook, it was Simone Corrington’s birthday. Who was Simone? Oh, that girl from high school she’d chatted to once in senior year. According to Twitter, Greg had liked her tweet and also sent her some sort of naughty emoji-based message. She was ignoring that eggplant. She’d received a Snap Chat from Paul that was of Troy in a tiny cowboy hat. And there was breaking news that Trump was trying to start some sort of nuclear war. She was about to drop the damn device onto the floor when it vibrated in her hand. She had new text. Yoga?

Reluctantly, Gina climbed out of bed and grabbed her yoga tights, sports bra, and singlet. She pulled her hair into a ponytail and slipped her feet into her thongs. Chip came rolling into the room with a toy mouse and almost tripped her over as she snatched up her yoga mat and water bottle. “Try not to get stuck in the blind again while I’m out,” she mused as the kitten tried to hang onto her ankle as she left the room.

Brad placed the two bottles of soda on the counter as the rather uninterested gas station worker added them to his bill. He handed over what felt like half his life savings and his left kidney before heading back out to the car. He slipped back behind the wheel and passed one of the sodas over to the uninterested teen in the passenger seat. “I bought you a soda,” he declared and was ignored by Lilly, who was too busy blasting music through her stupid giant earphones and texting friends to notice. “Lils, honey…” She continued to ignore him. Brad sighed and grabbed his phone, pondered a moment and then posed with a stupid grin and the soda as he took a photo and snap chatted his daughter that he’d bought her a drink.

Lilly glanced up and narrowed her eyes before lifting her phone and taking a photo of him and sending it back with ‘Ass’ written in very big letters.

“I’m so glad we spend these times together,” Brad mused as he started the car and headed back out onto the country road. As the small town was replaced by a more undulating and rocky environment, Brad pondered how much he missed his little girl. The one that used to worship him with her cute pigtails and onesie pajamas. Now she was a surly teenager in tiny booty shorts who worshipped healthy influences like the Kardashians and whoever was screwing whichever member of One Direction at that moment. The only conversation they’d had since getting in the car involved how much she hated him, how he was ruining her life and how he was old and wouldn’t understand. Brad frowned at the horizon and wondered how quickly he could grab his daughter’s phone and lob it into a canyon. Lilly glanced up again and he smiled. She scowled and shook her head before reaching down to search through her bag.

“Shit.”

“Problems sweetheart?”

“I forgot my charger,” Lilly whined, her headphones now around her neck. “My phone is almost flat.”

“Oh no, that’s terrible,” Brad soothed and then turned away to smile. “I think mine is packed at the bottom of my bag.”

Lilly let out a strangled cry. “How am I supposed to survive this without my phone?”

“Well I know when I’ve had to drive without a radio we’d just sing.”

“You have got to be kidding…”

“Hey, I can sing.”

“Not in any way that’s not embarrassing.”

“Excuse me?”

“I saw that woman humping you like a dog on Whose Line.”

“That was just for TV, honey.”

“She put like her whole hand in your mouth,” Lilly winced. “It was disgusting.”

“I can’t help it if attractive women, and admittedly some men, want to get freaky with me on TV.”

“Get freaky?”

“Do we not say that anymore?”

“Nooo.” She shook her head. “I don’t know why you’d make any anyone thirsty. Although my friend Dani says you give her mega thirst.”

“I’m dehydrating your friends?” Brad frowned and raised an eyebrow in Lilly’s direction.

“What? No, she thinks you’re hot.”

Brad looked coy for a moment. “Wait, which one is Dani?”

“She came to my birthday, was wearing the floral top?”

Brad thought for a minute. Oh, Dani, whose floral top barely concealed her braless breasts that seemed to be thrust in his direction an awful lot. “Oh, that Dani,” he shot his daughter a weak smile while simultaneously feeling concerned he might be an old pervert.

“Do…do you have to bring the stuffed rodent everywhere?” Steven Gates asked, glancing at Troy in his cowboy hat.

“He has a name, Steven,” Paul said with mock seriousness, “and I’d prefer you didn’t refer to him as a rodent.”

“Again,” Steven mused, bridging his hands. “Why does he have a name?”

Paul chuckled. “Oh mate, if I told ya I’d have to kill ya.”

“Come on mate, you don’t just find stuffed mongooses…mongeese? Lying around.”

“You do if you’re in the right place.”

Steven paused. “Did you take him from a museum?”

“Yes, they were rehoming some of the old taxidermied creatures and I thought, fuck it, I could do with a mongoose. So I adopted the little fella, and when they asked what to put on his adoption certificate, I saw the museum employee was called Troy and decided it would be kind gesture to name the little guy after him.”

“That’s bullshit, mate.”

Paul giggled as he stroked his newly acquired beard. After an exhausting DAAS tour it was a gentle change to be performing with Steven instead. Although there were some things that it was proving very hard to explain. Like Troy, the way he flinched whenever a dark van passed them, and his obsessive need to look for escape routes in any closed room. Steven opened his mouth to take another guess at Troy’s background when Paul’s phone let out a melody. “Sorry mate, I better check this,” he announced, slipping his phone from his pocket and smiled when he saw it was a snapchat from Gina, and then let out a snort when he saw it was a rather extreme close up of her dog Woody’s giant hairy nutsack.

“Important message?” Steven asked raising an eyebrow.

“Important message from Genie,” Paul sighed with a smile. “Now where were we?”

“The origins of the rat.”

“I found him on a bookcase in the lair of a Scottish drug baron as we shared his vast profits among many needy causes and found our future burial plots for when he and his heavies had us murdered.”

“Bull…shit,” Steven chided. “I can see through your lies.”

Paul raised an eyebrow and grinned. “Can you now,” he mused and reached out to straighten Troy’s hat.

“Now low push up,” the yoga instructor enthused. “Upward dog,” she continued, managing to demonstrate and smile at the same time. “Downward dog,” she finished as the class all moved into position.

“I swear that woman is sadistically happy,” Gina puffed as they were instructed to move into child’s pose.

“It could be worse,” Moonstar mused. “At least she’s moved on from trying to encourage naked Tuesdays.”

“That would be because she was the only one who did it,” Gina smirked as she sat back on her mat. If you’d asked her 10 years ago if she thought she’d be living in Byron Bay with her hippy neighbour Moonstar, she would have deemed it as likely as her having a midlife career change as a Vegas showgirl. But when things had been admittedly at their worst, it was Moonstar who encouraged her to make a sea change and some sort of life balance. This in itself proved tricky with an ex-husband who just had to so much as turn up at her door with a twinkle in his eye and she’d be pantless for a week. Technology hadn’t helped either, and she found she and Paul communicated more now than they had in all their years of marriage.

“Breakfast?” Moonstar asked as she got to her feet and began rolling her mat up.

“Sure,” Gina nodded as she took another glance over the bay. Morning yoga with a bunch of hippies might suck, but morning yoga outside overlooking the ocean was bearable. She rolled up her mat and then headed to a nearby tree where she had secured her dog, Woody. Woody was the closest she’d ever come to a horse/dog crossbreed. Moonstar had gifted him to Gina when they first moved to the bay. A friend of hers had found him as a tiny puppy and Moonstar thought he would be good company for her. Unfortunately, he turned out to be a Newfoundland, and now weighed nearly 150 pounds.

“Ooh Woody, aren’t you getting big,” Moonstar cooed and nuzzled Woody’s huge head.

“Getting big?” Gina gasped. “I should be charging you for food,” she chided as they headed up the main street toward a boutique vegan cafe that specialised in local produce and cost as much as a week’s mortgage repayment just for a pot of tea.

“We’ll take the van and drive to Ballina to the pet store and bulk buy,” Moonstar laughed. “It’s the least I can do.”

“Paying would be the least you can do,” Gina declared as they took a seat at an outdoor table. Woody plonked himself on the pavement, causing the endless line of flower children and surfers to take a wide birth onto the road to get around his girth.

A waitress appeared with her long, bleached-blonde hair wrapped up in a tie-dyed scarf. She did a double take at Woody. “Are you ready to order?”

Fenny dumped the last of the anti-bacterial wipes into the bin and was pondering if she should just order a new keyboard when she heard a car crunching the stone driveway. Nash hopped up excitedly and barked as he scooted down the hall to the door. Fenny followed and unlocked it to see Brad pile out of his car. Lilly was already standing, arms crossed and looking fed up.

“Do you want to help with your bags?” he asked as he opened the trunk.

“Can I go for a walk?” Lilly huffed.

“Sure, after you’ve brought your luggage inside,” he said a little more firmly. Lilly shuffled over and grabbed the handle of her wheelie case. She only noticed Fenny when she had ascended the porch steps and reached the door.

“Hey Lilly,” Fenny smiled, still trying to understand how the sweet little girl had turned into all legs and boobs and Kardashian.

“Hi Fenny,” she breathed and pushed past her into the house.

“Do they come with a warning?” Fenny asked as Brad made his way onto the porch. “Warning: Turns into a troll at age 13. Proceed with caution. May cause great pain and loss of earnings.”

“If they did, I might have been less drunk and thought more about protective measures,” Brad groaned. “Are you allowed to hate your own children?”

“Mine just brought me a dead rodent,” Fenny soothed and reached out to touch his arm. “So yes, I think that’s normal.”

“Thank you so much for doing this for me,” he smiled, that gorgeous slightly wonky smile that made Fenny blush. “Her mom can’t deal with her at the moment, and I just don’t think being on the road with me and Col is a good place for her.”

“And being in the desert away from boys is a much better alternative.”

“Have you seen those shorts?” Brad whispered into Fenny’s ear. “They should be illegal,” he added, opening the door as they stepped inside.

Lilly had located her charger and was furiously tapping away at her phone. “Oh my god, I’m missing Tori’s party and Marty was going to be there,” she whined and fell onto the couch.

“The horror,” Brad grumbled and Fenny snickered.

“Do you want something to eat or drink?” she asked, deciding it was probably best to let Lilly have some space to deal with her first world problems.

“Yes to all of the above,” Brad grinned, following Fenny into the kitchen and giving her a cheeky pat on her rear while Lilly was frowning into her phone. Fenny shot him an amused look and he giggled.

“You look exhausted,” she announced as she grabbed a loaf of rye bread from the counter.

“You try making conversation with a 16-year-old,” Brad sighed as he leant against the counter. “Apparently I make one of her friends thirsty.”

“You dehydrate teen girls?”

“I think it means horny.”

“Well that’s just stupid,” Fenny frowned as she hunted out a bag of mixed salad greens and some smoked turkey from the fridge. “Which friend? Oh, let me guess, the one with the floral top and boobs from her birthday.”

Brad looked bashful. “I don’t notice their boobs…”

Fenny cocked her head. “Yeah sure…”

He grabbed a platypus-shaped saltshaker and poked its bill. “Why would you assume it’s that girl?”

“Oh honey,” Fenny cooed as she turned to Brad. She pulled the pencil from her hair so it fell back around her shoulders, and thrust her chest in his direction. “Mr Sherwood,” she pouted and moved closer, twisting her hair around one finger. “Would you like some cake?” She slowly licked her lips. “With extra cream?”

Brad almost dropped the platypus saltshaker. “Wow, I’m suddenly really thirsty.”

Gina took another reluctant suck of her organic smoothie and was pleased when Moonstar hopped up to grab a newspaper so she could empty several sugar packets into it to make it palatable.

“Why do we come here?” Gina asked as Moonstar returned with her freshly procured paper.

“Because they don’t mind Woody disturbing the foot traffic,” she replied, flicking through the local news.

“Himalayan tea for two,” a waitress interrupted and placed the steaming pot and two moroccan-stye tea glasses on the table. “Who ordered the bacon roll?”

“That’d be me,” Gina enthused as the plate was place in front of her.

“You must have the spanner crab scramble then,” the waitress perked as she placed whatever had been put onto Moonstar’s plate in front of her.

Gina pushed her smoothie aside and glared at her bacon and egg roll. “Who in the fuck puts apple slaw and chili jam with bacon?”

“I’m not sure I know what I ordered,” Moonstar frowned, poking at a beansprout and then redirecting her attention to the newspaper. “Ooh, Gina look,” she gasped and thrust the paper into Gina’s hands.

“What am I looking for?”

“The advert on the left,” Moonstar grinned. “Look who’s performing in Ballina!”

Gina rolled her eyes. “It’s just Paul,” she sighed. “Or possibly a homeless person pretending to be Paul.”

“We should go.”

“We really shouldn’t.”

“Oh come on, it’s been a while since you two have caught up.”

“We’re divorced,” Gina said matter-of-factly. “We don’t need to catch up. That’s not how divorce works.”

“You weren’t great at marriage,” Moonstar countered. “I don’t know how you can be any worse at divorce.”

Gina pouted as she scraped the slaw and chili jam from her roll. “What about your children?”

“At their dad’s this week.”

“Which dad?” Gina asked, handing the roll to Woody, who swallowed it whole.

“Each of them,” Moonstar shrugged, and she stuffed a forkful of crab into her mouth.

Gina’s phone vibrated from its spot on the table and she grabbed it. There was a new snapchat from Paul. She opened it to reveal a rather crude sketch of a pair of breasts. Her breasts, actually, with the words ‘from mammory’. She almost snorted smoothie through her nose, and Moonstar looked alarmed.

“Everything ok?”

“We’ll go tonight,” she managed, coughing and grabbing her water bottle. “I need to punch the little shit in the throat.”

“You make a very good turkey salad on rye,” Brad smiled as he finished the last of his sandwich. “Lils, do you want anything?” he called into the living room.

“Do you have any tabouli?” she asked, sauntering into the room and giving the adults who were now seated at the table an annoyed look. “I’m totally vegan now.”

“Hmm, let me think.” Fenny feigned thinking. “No, no I do not. Everything I have comes from animals. Even the fruit.”

“Whatever,” Lilly rolled her eyes and checked her now charged phone. “I’m going for a walk.”

“Fine, but be careful,” Brad ordered.

“Take Nash,” Fenny added as Lilly traipsed out of the room and called Nash, who eagerly joined her.

“Don’t play with rattlers!” Brad called after her.

“Are you sure you can’t swap her for a smaller, cute one?” Fenny chided as she got to her feet. She grabbed Brad’s plate and headed to the sink.

“I think it’s like puppies, they’re for life, not just for Christmas,” Brad sighed as he stood and slid behind Fenny. “You smell like coconut,” he mused, his hands finding their way around her waist. He pulled her against him and buried his face in her neck.

“You do do realise your daughter has only just walked out the door,” Fenny mused, enjoying the warmth of his breath on her neck.

“She’s charged her phone, that gives us a good ten hours at least.” He gently swept the hair from her neck and began gently nibbling her throat.

Fenny let out a little whimper and managed to control her limbs enough to turn the water off before she reached up to run her fingers through his hair. “You’re a very bad man,” she breathed as she tilted her lips up and was pleased when she felt his meet hers. They shared a brief, intense kiss before Fenny forced herself to pull away.

“Do I have turkey breath?” Brad pouted, but brightened when Fenny took his hand and led him out of the kitchen and toward the bedroom. They passed her study and Brad walked past, then stopped and walked back. “Fifty Shades of Grey, huh?”

“It’s for work,” she blushed and tried to guide him away.

“I feel I should help you with some research,” Brad declared as they reached the bedroom. He leaned against the door frame, narrowed his eyes and started unbuttoning his shirt. “Welcome to my red room of pain, baby.”

“Do you want to go through any of the songs again?” Steven asked as he and Paul sat having lunch and watching over the marina.

“Nah, I’m sure we’ll be fine,” Paul nodded as he polished off a prawn from their seafood share plate. They’d gone for burgers, but somehow after being lectured on how the town was known for its spectacular seafood, how they should try it or they’ll be sorry if they didn’t, the burgers had become a platter and the two men were trying to decide what each of the battered seafoods were.

“Calamari,” Steven declared, picking up a hoop-like item and taking a bite out of it.

“Crab,” Paul frowned and offered the claw to Troy.

“Mate, did you have to bing the rat?”

“He doesn’t like hotels,” Paul shrugged as his phone vibrated in his pocket. He licked his fingers before fishing it out. It was a new snapchat from Gina. He snatched up an oyster as he opened it and was greeted by a rather fabulous photo of Gina’s actual breasts and the words ‘from realitits’. Paul choked in his oyster and turned slightly purple before he managed to dislodge it with a big gulp of beer. “Jesus.”

“Should I be concerned?” Steven smirked as Paul returned to a normal colour and looked at his phone again. “Do I get to see whatever nearly caused your premature death?”

“You certainly do not,” Paul scolded, took one more look and slipped the phone back into his pocket. “Don’t you say a word,” he added, shaking a warning finger at Troy.

“Does no one else find that rat weird?” Steven asked, glancing around at the other patrons and then reaching for another piece of calamari.