Authors: Janelle Harris
‘There’s a voice message,’ Ava announces, interrupting my thoughts.
I can’t listen. I offer Ava my phone. She doesn’t take it, and I know she’s freaking out just as much as I am.
‘Put it on speaker,’ Ava suggests. ‘We’ll listen together.’
My fingers quiver as I struggle to press the digits on my phone.
‘You have one new message.
To delete messages while listening press five.
Received today at four fifteen pm…’
‘Hey…’ I cover my ears with my hands as soon as I hear Mark’s familiar voice. And I watch as Ava listens inventively, her face falling.
‘What did he say?’ I ask
‘Nothing much,’ Ava says, her pale face and whitish lips belying her.
‘You were listening to him say nothing for a very long time,’ I say.
I can feel the familiar toil of suspicion grab hold of me. Ava is a threat, again. I dismiss the foolish notion as quickly as I think of it. She’s not lying to me; she’s protecting me.
‘It was lies, just lots of lies,’ Ava says unconvincingly. ‘It’s good you didn’t hear that crap.’
I grab my phone tight in my hand and stuff it back into my handbag so roughly I hurt my fingers. ‘Fuck him,’
Ava flings off her high-heel boots and winces as the ice-cold ground stings through her socks. She doesn’t falter. She takes position behind my wheelchair, and we both prepare ourselves to charge down the laneway. We’re not giving up without a fight.
We’ve barely passed the gate when Adam is fast catching up with us from behind.
Ava stops and stands still as he repeatedly calls out my name. We both know there’s no point running; he’s faster and stronger than both of us combined.
‘You called Nicole, you jerk,’ I scream in a frightening display of temper. Just like last night outside the hotel with the teenagers.
‘Nicole called me.’
‘It doesn’t matter who called who,’ I argue. ‘You told her where to find us.’
‘I had to tell her.’
‘No, you fucking didn’t. Whose side are you on?’
‘There are no sides, Laura. I just want to help you.’
‘You’re a liar. Have you any idea what you’ve done? Why aren’t you taking this seriously? They’ll kill you too,’ I warn. ‘None of us are safe now.’
‘Are you really that stupid?’ Adam asks, inappropriately bordering on laughing.
What the fuck?
‘You’re the stupid one,’ I cry with childish retaliation.
‘How do you think you were going to get your passport if Mark and Nicole are still hanging around the house? I had to draw them out somehow, didn’t I?’
I stare at Ava. Suddenly, Adam is making sense again. I’d completely forgotten about needing a passport and a visa. Ava had hers from her business trip to Boston a few months ago, but I’ve never been to the States before. I didn’t have one.
‘Do I have to sign papers or do something online before I can go to America; isn’t there some form you need to sort out?’ I blurt as if I’m the first tourist to ever enter the United States.
‘That’s all sorted,’ Adam assured. ‘But you need to leave now if you don’t want to bump into Mark and Nicole. They aren’t far from here, and your flight leaves tonight.’
I want to argue that my problems are a little greater than the awkwardness of bumping into my cheating husband, but Adam is doing me a favour here. One he really doesn’t have to. I hold my tongue, and Ava doesn’t say anything either. For the first time in her life, I think she’s actually at a loss for words. She kisses Adam and wraps her arms around his neck, but he must still be angry and hurt because he doesn’t hold her or kiss her back.
I look at the cluttered kitchen island. Half a spilled smoothie, some randomly scattered cornflakes, and a few spoons of uneaten raspberry yogurt line the worktop. A couple of pairs of pyjama bottoms were lying on the kitchen tiles and a lost runner peeks out from underneath the corner of one crumpled leg. I know the countertops would never clean themselves, but every morning, I relentlessly stare for ages at the mess and hope it will just disappear in the next blink. And every morning, after a million and one other chores take precedence, I clean the filthy kitchen, all the while wondering what my life would be like if I still had my career. I daydream about office chats around the water cooler and about dressing in flattering pencil skirts with flawless makeup. My reality is very different; reruns of
Oprah
, an old pair of oversized tracksuit bottoms, and some dried porridge instead of eye shadow.
When Mark and I found out that I was pregnant for the first time, we raided our savings account. We made a mad dash to the nearest baby store and bought all the most ridiculously overpriced baby gadgets we could pack into the car. It was an exciting time. Even though I was scared shitless that I didn’t have a clue how to be a mother, I was embracing the role. However, three months of nonstop puking, swollen ankles, and stretch marks later, I knew I wasn’t going to be one those women who earned the yummy mummy title.
I was initially horrified by Mark’s suggestion that we should hire a nanny, and the implication that I couldn’t hack it alone. But the lack of sleep and few too many headaches had me eagerly agreeing to accept help. A little to my disappointment, the interview process was long and drawn out. I was hoping for someone with a flying umbrella, who sang songs that magically sucked you up the chimney. Instead, I was facing a cranky headmistress in a dodgy black suit who looked like she could eat children for breakfast. I needed Mary Poppins not Mrs. Trunchbull. When Ava agreed to take a morning off work and go over an interview trial run with me, I could have kissed her.
‘I’ll just observe this morning,’ Ava says, giggling as she struggles to stay in character.
‘Come in, come in,’ I insist, ushering her through to the hall.
‘Oh, watch the Power Ranger on the floor…sorry…and the mashed banana there by the radiator,’ I say, embarrassed by the clutter paving the way to the kitchen.
‘It’s not usually this messy,’ I lie, knowing full well Ava is used to seeing my house exactly like this. ‘I just slept it out this morning.’
‘Not bad.’ Ava smiles. ‘I almost believed that.’
‘Stop it.’ I laugh. ‘You don’t know me, remember.’
Ava winks. ‘Got it.’
Mayhem at a climax, we are finally ready to leave the house. I quickly swing the door shut behind us leaving my scarf sacrificed in the hard slam. I didn’t have the time to go back to rescue it. It would have to remain dangling there signalling to the neighbours that another Monday morning has gotten off to a shaky start. I drive out the gate running the usual morning checklist over in my head.
Kids in the car - check
Seat belts fastened - check
School bag – check
Lunchbox – check
No time to wipe yogurt stain from leg of trousers – check
Excessive high-pitched shouting from uncooperative children – check
Sanity almost lost – check
And we are ready for another day of madness.
I kiss a grumpy little boy goodbye and wait at the school gates until I see him go in the classroom door. I sigh heavily before the usual procession of a nod and wave to the other equally flummoxed parents making a last-minute dash to the classroom door. A sneaky smile creeps across my face with the relief of watching others race by, even later for school than we are.
I sit back in the car and breathe a sigh of relief. Another morning started well but, as usual, slid quickly downhill. I grip the steering wheel tightly and bang my forehead gently against the cold leather. Tomorrow will be different, I promise myself. It’s the same promise I make to myself every morning.
~~~
But this time, it’s a promise that’s kept. Tomorrow was different, so different, in fact, that it has changed my life forever. Guilt thunders through my veins. Every cross word spoken, every missed opportunity for a hug, every time I was apart from the kids for five minutes is deeply regretted. A glimpse of a very lonely future filled with the pain of missed opportunity eats away at my aching heart.
‘Laura, Laura,’ Ava calls as she tugs at my jumper.
I looked up from the spot I’m staring at, possibly without blinking for a long time. My eyes finally focus, and I remember we’re in the airport and the morning of the accident is just a distant memory now.
‘Laura, snap out of it,’ Ava says tugging harder. ‘You’re daydreaming, again.’
‘Sorry,’ I quickly apologise. ‘I was miles away.’
‘I can see that. Is everything okay?’
‘Not really. I was thinking about the kids.’
‘Oh.’
‘It’s okay. I’m okay.’
‘Look.’ Ava points towards the flight check-in desk in front of us. ‘We’re next in the queue and soon we’ll be thousands of miles away from Mark and Nicole.’
‘And thousands of miles away from the kids, too.’
Ava sighs. ‘Yeah…but only for a little while.’
I close my eyes.
Only for a little while, only for a little while.
I repeat the mantra as I return to staring into space.
‘God, I just love the airport. Do you?’ Ava says sounding giddily excited about our sudden adventure to the Big Apple.
I wish I could share her enthusiasm.
‘I miss them, Ava. I miss them every second of every day.’
Ava’s face falls. ‘I’m so sorry, Laura. But leaving is the only way. You know that?’
‘Yeah, I know, but it doesn’t make it suck any less.’
‘I
do
understand how hard it must be for you being apart from the kids,’ Ava says gently rubbing my back.
I know she’s trying to be supportive in an impossible situation, but it’s the opposite of helpful.
‘I don’t mean to be rude, but please don’t patronise me by saying you understand. You don’t have any kids; you couldn’t possibly begin to know what I’m going through.’
‘I…I…I’m sorry, Laura. I just don’t know what to say.’
‘I understand,’ Adam interrupts. ‘I always wanted kids.’
I’d drifted so far into my imagination that I had almost forgotten he was there. I turn my head to look up at Adam who’s standing beside me. Adam is a tall guy, at least six one or two, but today he looks shorter, as if the stress I’m causing has chipped a couple of inches off him.
‘I really appreciate your help. I know I am not making it obvious, but I am so grateful to you. But honestly, no matter how hard I try to explain, you will never understand how I feel,’ I insist, forcing myself to use as gentle a tone as possible even though I just wanted to scream until my throat was raw and no more sound comes out.
‘A baby isn’t always easy,’ Adam says. ‘Ava and I were trying for ages before…’
I’m so shocked that I cut across him before he finishes. ‘A baby? Really?’
Ava smiles brightly and nods.
‘That’s great news,’ I say genuinely delighted and perhaps a little worried about how Adam’s genes will come out when inflicted upon the next generation.
‘Why didn’t you tell me?’
‘I wanted to, but you had a lot of your own stuff going on. I didn’t want to throw my problems at you, too,’ Ava explains a little unexpectedly sad.
‘What problems?’ I ask confused.
Ava stares at the ground. She distracts herself from the seriousness of the conversation by pointing her toe and squiggling imaginary circles on the floor with her foot.
‘A baby is not a problem. A bit of a shock to the system, but so is a bad haircut and you’ve had more than your share of those,’ I tease. ‘I’m sure you guys will cope just fine.’
‘Well, Adam wasn’t sure he was ready to be a dad,’ Ava stutters.
I glare at Adam. Sometimes, I wonder if Adam is sure he even wants to be a grown-up. He returns my glare and doesn’t flinch. He clearly isn’t even remotely intimidated. Luckily for Adam, a twitch is all the strength my leg can muster. It wants so badly to take on a life of its own and wedge itself smack-bang in the middle of his crown jewels.
I’m delighted Ava is going to be a mother. She adores kids and a little baby would be very lucky to have a mother that wonderful. I have to put my disapproval of Adam aside and be supportive. After all, he has been a great help to me in the last few days. He’s proven he can be resourceful when necessary. Maybe the news that he’s going to be a father soon has finally helped him to mature.
‘Laura, I really don’t want to talk about this,’ Adam snaps, strangely upset. ‘It’s, it’s just too hard.’
Adam’s attitude annoys me. I can discuss anything I want to with my best friend. He doesn’t own her. I can just imagine how controlling he will be once the baby arrives. It’s little wonder Ava is so eager to flee to New York. She needs some space, maybe now more than ever.
Suddenly, everything adds up in my head. ‘Oh God,’ I stutter. ‘Is that what you were arguing about back at the cottage? The baby?’
‘Arguing?’ Adam repeats sounding coy.
‘I thought you were arguing about helping me,’ I say. My cheeks sting scarlet, and I’m mortified. I completely misread the situation. I look at Ava and take a moment to process. Is she leaving Adam? ‘I don’t think running off to New York will solve any problems,’ I say. ‘What if something happens?’
‘Exactly,’ Adam agrees enthusiastically. ‘You’re finally taking sense.’
‘I’m not going to listen to either of you. I’m only three months along. Somehow I don’t think we have to worry about me going into labour on the plane.’
I smile. Ava is determined to save me, and I know I would regret it if I denied her the opportunity.
‘Okay, but I’m not holding your hair back if you puke your way across the Atlantic,’ I joke.
Ava returns my smile, and in spite of everything, at that small moment, I was happy. Of course, when I realise I’m smiling, guilt immediately thunders in and I’m forced back into pouting and feeling miserable.
‘Lorcan,’ Adam adds, cutting through the silence that has fallen over us. ‘That’s a name I like.’
‘Pardon?’ I say, briefly startled by a strange familiarity of the name.
My concentration levels are pitiful. I’m constantly battling to keep up with my overactive imagination, and the reality around me is slipping by unnoticed.
‘Adam, don’t,’ Ava says slapping her hand roughly across his chest. ‘We haven’t decided on any names yet. We don’t even know if it’s a girl or a boy.’
‘Lorcan. Do you like it? Lor-can,’ Adam asks, his eyes narrow as they glare at me like glazed almonds.
‘Adam, please? I asked you to leave it,’ Ava reminds him.
‘I’m just curious to see what you think, Laura. You’re a mother; I wonder if you would use that name yourself.’
His face is strangely contorted and there’s an odd, almost overly enthusiastic forcefulness hanging on his every word. His simple words are indirectly vicious. But I am at a loss to unravel whatever nastiness his sentences hides.
‘It’s lovely,’ I finally say, brushing off this nonsense as I pick up my almost empty bag and follow Ava’s lead to the check-in desk. I long for a brick wall to beat my exhausted head against, but I will have to settle for a pillow on a transatlantic flight.
‘Laura. Oh, my gosh, how are you?’ the smiling lady behind the check-in desk asks, as she glances over my passport.
‘I’m very well, thank you, Bernadette.’ I reply glancing at her nametag. I’m too exhausted to add a smile.
‘How’s everyone at home?’ she asks.
I’m not too exhausted to frown.
What the hell kind of question is that?
It’s almost ten pm, and I haven’t eaten all day. I’m in no mood for this shit.
‘Are you getting a little holiday?’ she continues. ‘You’re dead right. A few days away is probably just what you need right now.’
I turn to Ava. She’s looking at me blankly, waiting for an explanation. Or an introduction. Ava must think with Bernadette’s strange questions that we’re acquainted.
I roll my shoulders.
Bernadette finally abandons her plan to be friendly and stops chatting to me like a giddy schoolgirl. She professionally runs through the standard security questions and weighs and tags our bags.
‘Thank you,’ I murmur, my throat as dry as an unbuttered cream cracker.
I smile at Ava as I watch our suitcases trundle along the conveyor belt and out of sight. It’s hard to decipher between worry and fear, but to my surprise, there’s a hint of excitement bubbling about in my tummy, too.
‘Take care now, we’re all thinking of you,’ Bernadette says at one final attempt to extract a smile from my expression of cold stone.
‘Who’s we all?’ Ava whispers subtly.
I shake my head. ‘I have no idea!’