Dad came over an hour later. Tate was sitting in the living room and his eyes almost popped out of his head when he saw dad standing there.
'Great matinee,' dad said to him.
'You were there?'
'Of course.'
'Thanks.' A steely silence descended.
'The gallery got broken into,' dad said.
'Oh?'
'Some of Rex's paintings got slashed. It was terrible. I had to tell him. It was an awful feeling for him that someone would vandalise his works like that.'
Tate's face gave nothing away.
'I hope the person who did it knows it's wrong to ruin other people's work. It's disrespectful. Rex was so upset he punched me, right here under the eye.' Dad pointed to the bruise that was fading under his eye.
Tate blinked and looked down in his lap.
'You can help me find this dog,' dad said. 'We'll take a walk around the neighbourhood. You know what it looks like?'
'Yeah.'
'Come on then.'
Mum let me help her do a massive cook up in the kitchen. Despite trying to focus on her instructions, there was a deep pit of dread in my stomach. I felt so anxious, I found myself gulping for air every minute. My head felt like an abandoned property, overgrown with weeds and the power had been disconnected.
Mum was chopping capsicum and doing her best to make small talk. 'I'll never forget your father's sister. After I had Tate, she delivered a home-cooked meal to me every Wednesday for eight weeks. It was the most sweetest, supportive thing anyone has ever done for me.'
'Aunty Elsie?'
'Yeah.'
'That's so lovely.'
'Yeah. I was struggling. You were a handful and Tate was more than a handful as a newborn, but just knowing I had one night a week that I'd have a decent meal and I didn't have to cook meant so much, you know.' Mum's eyes turned cloudy. 'I miss your aunty. We were good friends.'
'You should call her some time.'
A tear rolled down mum's cheek. 'I've been so angry for so long. It's stupid. None of it even matters.' Now she was proper crying. 'This morning, with the dog, all I wanted was your father. I can't explain it. He's a good man. I knew he would help. I've been ...' but she was crying so much her shoulders were rattling and anguish had her in such a strong headlock her words were blocked.
I put my arms around her and she sobbed into my shoulder as her dystopian anger fell like a house dismantled by a wrecking ball. 'He was always there for me,' she murmured, 'it should've been enough.' She looked out the window and stared into the distance, glossy tears glazed across her cheeks. 'I'm sorry,' she said, at last to me. 'I should've let you see him more. I was a draconian fool. The only person who's been damaging you both is me.'
'Mum, don't say that.'
'It's true.'
'Mum, don't ...'
'I hope they find that dog. I'm an awful person.'
'They'll find it, mum. They'll find it.'