How To Lose Weight And Survive The Apocalypse

Chapter 16

The chickens scratched in the morning sun. I watched them from the kitchen window and sipped from a water glass, absently wondering what would happen to this place once we'd ridden away. The summer storms would cause damage season after season, windows would break, mould would grow on the couches and the patchwork quilts. Animals would shelter inside and plant life would grow in the carpets. Eventually the plaster and wood would crumble back into the earth, and there would only be a few pieces of scattered, rusted metal to show that this place had ever existed.

Feeling bleak, I turned away from the window and stretched. As I lifted my arms overhead, Rueben wandered into the kitchen barefoot. Instinctively, I dropped my arms and pulled my tee down to cover my belly.

"Morning."

"Hi."

He rubbed his chin, his beard thickening from days without a razor. "Karla, I want to say I'm sorry if I upset you last night."

"Mmm." I gave nothing away. My feelings about Rueben were all over the place; my body reacted to him as if he emitted a magnetic pulse, but he scared me. His insight into my behaviour was unnerving, and I was already flat out trying to deal with my own neuroses.

More than anything, I worried in the dark corners of my mind that I liked him, really liked him, and maybe liked his daughter too. It made me too vulnerable; the last time I let myself fall for someone, it had almost ruined me.

So I kept my words to myself, and watched him warily.

His face creased, sadness written there, and maybe something more. A tentative longing. "I'm not going to ask if you've eaten. I just wanted to remind you that you're worthy of eating."

"I wish that was true," I murmured.

He closed the distance between us. "What would it take to convince you?"

Hunger ground like a pestle inside me, desire to be touched rather than a food craving. "What do you have in mind?"

His fingers raised and dancing down my neck, drawing goose bumps out like an Etch-a-sketch. "Rueben..."

He leaned forward and kissed the skin on my neck just below my ear, and I mewed helplessly. My hands raised and tangled in his hair, pulling him closer. The heat between us was fierce, beyond reason. For a blissful moment, I forgot about my weight, the journey ahead, the drama between Bailey and Nev, my existential dread, and all that existed was the pang of lust that surged in my body, that drew me ever closer to this man as if I could absorb myself inside him.

"Daddy?" Mischa's voice rang out from the other end of the house. We froze, then peeled apart like reluctant Velcro strips.

"In here, Mish."

She bounced into the room, her hair tied up in intricate braids that had Nev's fingerprints all over them. "Simon says that he'll tow my chookie all the way to Tasmania!"

"That's great, baby," said Rueben. His voice was thick and strained, and his eyes kept flicking back to me. "Does the chookie have a name?"

"Of course. Chookie!"

"Chookie, the chookie?" I said, a giggle in my tone. "I like it."

She scampered away again, and Rueben smiled. "I don't think I've ever seen her this happy."

"She's a good kid." I refilled my massive water bottle, ready for the road. "You know, you could both stay here. There's food, water, beds, chookies. The road is dangerous, and you'd be happy here."

"I'm not going anywhere you're not," he said simply. "Besides, I can't let you lot swim to Tassie."

I couldn't hide my grin as we left the kitchen. Despite my empty belly that had speedily digested the dinner from last night, and the dizziness that constantly threatened to swallow me whole, there was a fullness to my spirit.