Tēnā koutou Kindlingers! Welcome new readers, I hope you feel at home here.

It’s been a whirlwind since the last issue. The NZYWF was a mix of dreamy and daunting. I got to read one of my long-ago rejected poems (I don’t hold grudges) alongside other incredibly talented kaituhi writers. You can listen to us all here. I read 52 minutes in.

If you read to the bottom I’ve included some photos and links to the other writers’ newsletters which you should subscribe to!

This issue has no real overarching theme, but plays with perspective in both pieces.

Enjoy :)

i stare at mountains
watch them grow over millennia
soft like butter
folding in and out of focus

push them into each other
etch faces into the shadows
whisper legends on the winds
light fires in their bellies
 
bake them at 200 degrees
under a sun whose death i try not think about
until a crust forms and a pick
comes out clean

a watched mountain won’t rise
i lick the glass
as i drive past
hungry for bite of their crumbly sides

What Edgar didn’t know when he parked on the road outside his Dad’s house was that he was about to run into his ex-girlfriend. They’d broken up six months ago because he’d wanted to be a father and she hadn’t wanted to be a mother. It was unfortunate timing as they’d been dating for five months – around the same amount of time it takes to see someone as a constant in your life and not a transient character – before they realised that they hadn’t asked each other whether they’d wanted children.

They’d been in love and, following the realisation that they didn’t want the same things, were both in denial. Edgar could see the appeal of working, saving, and travelling as much as they wanted. Having no one that depended on him for survival. Continuing their lives exactly as they were. From their short time together he knew it would be a rich and wholesome life. Loving each other could’ve been enough.

Rosie had considered motherhood. She’d known that Edgar would be a patient and adoring father. They were a good team, and she’d considered being the one who went back to work while Edgar stayed home. Their lives would completely change, though she’d be able to revisit the tramps she had done growing up, teach her kids how to sew and how to drive. It would be a rich and wholesome life, but she didn’t want it.

And so, when Edgar shut the passenger side car door collecting his pasta salad, and walked up his father’s steep driveway, he was clueless to the fact that he was about to run into his ex-girlfriend Rosie.

Following their breakup, Rosie had promised herself that she would be upfront on first dates about not wanting children. Not two, not one, none. Breaking up over a misaligned future had devastated Rosie. It’s hard to tell a heart to stop loving someone when they’ve done nothing wrong. Though they’d ended their relationship, they slept together a few more times.

Edgar possessed a sensitive nature and had a hard time recovering from heartbreak. The last time him and Rosie had slept together, he’d blocked her number to stop himself from calling her again. He’d just started to feel himself again when his father had invited him and his brother over for dinner. His father had always been a slightly eccentric man who loved art and local wine. All his father’s tattoos were on his feet, every shirt he owned was the same shade of navy and once a year he rented a bach by the ocean to take mushrooms and ‘broaden his horizons’.

Though he loved his father, Edgar had learned more about life from his friends’ fathers than his own. He wanted to be the father he’d never had – that’s why children were a non-negotiable.

Rosie had eventually found her rhythm as a single woman and downloaded Hinge when she’d stopped dreaming about children that looked like Edgar. She’d logged in and found her old profile was still saved. She changed all but one of the photos and tried to write a funny bio without being cringe. She settled for her star sign and a quote from Notting Hill. As she swiped through Auckland’s single men, a recent phone call with her mother ran through her head.

‘So, you’re really not going to give me any grandchildren?’

Rosie bit her tongue. ‘No, no grandchildren from me, Mum.’

‘Humph.’

Rosie tried to think of something to say. Anything that would get her mum to see her side of things.

‘Well, I suppose you should look to date older men, then. Men who don’t want kids.’

She’d winced. Rosie had never been the type to call men silver foxes or think that Charlie Swan from Twilight was suddenly sexier the older she got. ‘Maybe,’ was all she’d mustered.

Swiping through Hinge, she clicked on the settings cog and adjusted the age range to be as high as she dared and waited for new profiles to load.

Edgar knocked on the door, awkwardly holding his phone, keys and pasta salad in one hand. His father appeared wearing a loose navy button down with the top four buttons undone. He had a silver chain necklace on and a glass of white wine in his hand.

‘There he is! Come in, love.’ His father leaned forward and kissed Edgar on the cheek before stepping aside to let him in. ‘Everyone else is upstairs having chips and dips and things. Also, I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve invited my girlfriend along tonight.’

‘Oh, a girlfriend, Dad? Some warning could’ve been nice, I’m wearing my work clothes.’

‘No, you look great! She won’t care. She’s just excited to meet my boys.’ He followed Edgar up the stairs.

After depositing the salad in the kitchen and replacing it with an Otago sauvignon blanc, Edgar’s father led him into the lounge where his brother, Hugo, was sitting next to his ex-girlfriend, Rosie. Rosie his ex-girlfriend. Rosie the woman he still loved. Rosie whom he supposed was his father’s new girlfriend.

‘Babe, uh, Rosie, this is my eldest son, Ed.’

Edgar lunged forward with his hand outstretched. ‘Nice to meet you, Rosie.’ His hand was sweaty, and he pulled it away just as fast.

‘You too . . . Babe, I didn’t realise you were so young when you had the boys. I thought they’d be teenagers.’ She scratched behind her ear avoiding Edgar’s eye.

‘Yeah, got it all out of the way early. And you turned out just fine, didn’t ya?’ Edgar’s father clapped him on the shoulder.

‘Yeah, we’re great.’ Edgar looked at the floor.

‘We’re pretty awesome,’ Hugo chipped in before sprinkling a handful of chip crumbs into his mouth.

They sat at the table to eat. Rosie was mortified to be sitting across from Edgar, while his father grabbed her thigh and planted loving kisses on her cheek when he thought no one was looking. They’d only been dating a few months, but their connection was undeniable. From their first date Rosie had been so drawn to Paul. Now she knew why . . . she’d loved someone in this gene pool before.

‘Do you have kids, Rosie?’ Hugo asked.

‘Uh, no. I don’t.’ Her eyes briefly met Edgar’s.

‘Do you want kids?’ Hugo pressed.

‘Rosie and I have talked about kids. She’s never wanted any, and I’ve already had mine.’ Paul smiled and gestured to the boys with his fork.

Edgar pushed away from the table and stood up. He hadn’t known he was going to run into his ex-girlfriend. He hadn’t known that the alternate universe to Rosie being the mother of his children was having her as his stepmother.

‘I thought you didn’t want to be a mother.’

‘I don’t.’ She looked up at him. Face pained.

‘So you started dating someone with kids?’

‘I didn’t know!’

‘You didn’t know he had kids?’

‘I didn’t know you were his kid. That he was you’re father. I didn’t—’

‘Do you guys know each other?’ Hugo’s eyes were wide.

Edgar turned to his father. ‘Dad, Rosie is my ex-girlfriend.’

Hugo’s jaw dropped as he took in the scene in front of him. There was food in his mouth. Paul looked between Edgar and Rosie trying to put the pieces together.

‘I should go.’ Rosie stood up.

Paul snapped out of his trance. ‘Nonsense, no one needs to leave. We should talk about this.’

‘Let her leave, Dad. She wants to go.’

‘What so I can’t date your ex-girlfriends, is that it?’

It was all too much. ‘No, you can’t! If you were anything close to being a normal dad you’d get that.’

‘I’m gonna go.’ Rosie already had her handbag.

‘Let me walk you out.’ Paul gave Edgar a look and then edged around the table to follow her downstairs.

At the front door Rosie tried to push the image of children that looked like Edgar from her mind. If this continued, she’d end up having a child that looked like Edgar after all.

‘Paul, I’m sorry, this can’t continue. He’s right, I don’t want to be a mother. This is too weird.’

‘Think about it, my love. Take the weekend. I’ll talk to him.’ He squeezed her hand reassuringly.

With tears in her eyes Rosie walked down the driveway and got into her car. She reinstalled Hinge and edited her bio:

Aquarius ♒💜
I'm just a girl, standing in front of a boy, asking him to not want kids.