Book Four: Thirty Days, Book 4

by Bibi Paterson

“Tay, it’s not your fault,” Stix mutters. “Mother, well Mother is Mother.” It breaks my heart to see such a young girl looking like she has the world weighing down her shoulders.

  “Stix, this is not for you to worry about,” Taylor responds quietly and I know he’s trying to do what he has always done; protect his littles sister from whatever harsh reality she’s faced with.

  “She’s my mother too,” Stix says sharply, defiance in her tone and her posture.

  “Please, Stix, let me just handle this until Mother is feeling a bit better. You really don’t want to see what she is like now.” Taylor gives her a pleading look.

  “I know you are just trying to protect me, Tay, but I am not a baby. I can handle things,” Stix says petulantly with her fists clenched down by her sides.

  “But you shouldn’t have to deal with this, Stix,” Taylor responds plaintively as he tries to reason with her.

  An uncomfortable silence falls over us all; no one really knows what to say next so I wade in with the obvious, “Is your mother at The Clinic?”

  Taylor turns to me, “Yeah, David got her admitted there tonight. I didn’t really get a chance to discuss what is going to happen next but I said I would go back in the morning to see what kind of treatment he recommends.”

  “Okay,” I say with a sigh. “Well, there is nothing more we can do tonight so I think we should all head to bed and try to get some sleep. Chelle, do you want to stay over?” I ask turning to my friend.

  “Thanks for the offer, hun, but I have a hot man waiting for me at home so I am going to head back,” Michelle responds with a smirk. Stix is still standing there in her towel so she excuses herself, calling her goodbye to Michelle over her shoulder.

  “Thanks, Michelle, for all your help today,” Taylor says turning to her and giving her hug.

  “No worries, boss,” she jokes. “But seriously, I’m so sorry to hear about your mum,” she continues. “I’ll see you in the morning in the office.”

  I promise to call Michelle in the morning and make sure she has her cheesecake before walking her down to the front door.

  The Eighth & The Ninth

  I would like to say that we all slept well and woke up in great moods and we had a fantastic weekend. Yeah, that would be a complete lie. Instead, I had to deal with a petulant, hormonal teenager and an angsty husband intent on pushing the self-destruct button.

  By the time Sunday afternoon rolled around, I was fed up with the bickering and ended up calling my mum to come and rescue me under the pretext of a party crisis. By the time I returned home late that evening I had found Taylor and Stix in a reluctant truce, with Taylor finally agreeing to take Stix to see her mother first thing in the morning.

  As I finally fell into a deep dreamless sleep, all I could feel was a small amount of relief to finally find some kind of sweet oblivion.

  The Tenth

  “Seriously, Mum?” I practically yell down the phone. I had barely woken up and opened my eyes when my phoned had rung.

  “I’m sorry, Abs, but the venue has just called me and said they can’t accommodate the numbers for Taylor’s party,” Mum repeats at me patiently like she hasn’t just said the exact same words.

  “Funny, they didn’t seem to have a problem when they were taking our deposit,” I grumble feeling extremely irritated.

  “I know, Abs,” my mum agrees. “This is not ideal…”

  “Not ideal, Mum? This is a disaster. The party is next Friday. Next Friday! How the hell are we going to find another half decent venue in London at such short notice?”

  “Look, Abby, I have already sent out feelers to some friends in the industry so fingers crossed something will come up today,” my mother says trying to placate me.

  “Sorry, Mum,” I say feeling bad for my childish behaviour. “I know this isn’t your fault in the slightest and I really appreciate your help. I guess I am just feeling frustrated; nothing seems to be going right at the moment.”

  “Taylor and Stix?” my mother asks quietly. I had filled her in on the situation over the weekend so she knows exactly what’s going on.

  “Out,” I respond. “They seemed okay when I got in last night but Stix was insisting on seeing Gillian this morning. Bean had me up all night so I slept in. They must have left a couple of hours ago.”

  “Oh, Abby darling. I know you have a lot on your plate so please don’t let this party stuff worry you. I am sure we will be able to find a replacement venue either today or tomorrow and I promise you people will be talking about this party for years to come.” My mum’s optimism in infectious and I can’t help but try and believe everything is going to be okay.

  “Thanks, Mum. You are amazing!” I exclaim. For the millionth time, I wonder what I would do without her.

  “Now you haven’t forgotten about our shopping trip tomorrow?” my mum asks with glee in her voice. Nothing makes my mother more excited than a trip to her favourite stores.

  “Oh bugger, I had,” I respond. “Thanks for reminding me. Though, with everything so crazy here I’m really not sure now. Plus I have Stix staying…”

  “Bring her with,” my mum suggests. “Given Gillian’s, ahem, episode, I imagine she will need something to wear to the party as well.”

  “Yeah, that could work,” I say mulling things over.

  “Why don’t we stay up in London and have some pampering, maybe grab some tickets for a show or something?” Mum suggests and I can tell she is trying to be helpful.

  “That sounds fab, Mum. Are you sure you have time? And what about Dad?” I ask.

  “Your father is doing a shoot up in Scotland this week so I am at a bit of a loose end so you will be saving your dear old mother from extreme boredom.” I let out a chuckle knowing that my mother is never bored. She is a social butterfly and if I wasn’t around, I know she has plenty of friends she could be out with. But I appreciate her wanting to spend time with me; I guess we are both aware that life is going to change once Bean arrives and impromptu activities like this are not going to be possible, for a while at least.

  “Okay, that sounds fab. There is plenty of room at the apartment so we can all stay over. I’ll let Taylor know when I see him later,” I respond as my excitement starts to grow. This is just the kind of distraction I need after the last few days.

  We chat for a few more minutes, firming up our plans for the morning until we are interrupted by Mum’s call-waiting. She clicks off letting me know that she will call me back if she has any news on the venue. I drop my phone down beside and let out a sigh, thinking that this was not exactly the most auspicious start to the week.

  .........................

  I am sat at the dining table busy making lists of lists after lunch when I hear Stix and Taylor arguing as they come through the door.

  “But maybe we need to get a second opinion, Tay!” Stix says loudly.

  “And I told you, Stix. Dr Grohl is the best. I trust him completely and I know he’ll make sure Mother gets the care she needs,” Taylor responds emphatically.

  “Whatever,” Stix retorts petulantly.

  “Everything okay?” I ask quietly. Both Taylor and Stix jump; clearly neither of them realised I was in the room.

  “Fine,” mumbles Stix before shooting Taylor a glare and stomping off towards her room.

  “It went well then?” I ask, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

  Taylor moves across the room and places a kiss on the top of my head before dropping down into the chair beside me. He rubs his temples with his fingers and I can’t think of the last time I saw him so stressed out.

  “You okay, Taylor?” I ask placing my hand on his forearm.

  “Not really,” Taylor says despondently. I lean my body against his and wrap my arm around his shoulders, trying to transmit my love for him through my embrace.

  Taylor’s voice is low as he begins to speak. “Mother was in a catatonic state when we got there first thing. Apparently they haven’t been able to get her to eat o
r drink since they brought her in last night. Stix insisted on going into her room to sit with her so we did. We sat there for four hours trying to get some kind of response but she just lay there staring at the ceiling. It was like watching a corpse, well a breathing one anyway.

  “In the end, Stix ended up getting really upset when Mother wouldn’t answer her questions so I insisted we leave which caused a massive argument. Even that didn’t get any kind of acknowledgement so David insisted that I took Stix home and that she shouldn’t come back until there has been some kind of improvement. Something she didn’t exactly take very well.” Taylor turns to me and I find myself flinching at the bleakness of his expression. It feels like he is giving up and I don’t know how to change his mind.

  “It’s probably for the best,” I murmur. “Stix is so young. She shouldn’t have to deal with this.”

  “That’s what I said,” Taylor says plaintively, his frustration coming through his words.

  “It’s going to be okay, Taylor. David is the best. He’ll be able to get through to your mum, I just know it. I think we all just have to have a little patience.” I place a gentle kiss on Taylor’s cheek knowing that there is not much else, if anything, I can say to make things better.

  We lapse into silence and sit there, just holding onto each other like driftwood in a storm until eventually my need for sustenance forces us apart and I get up to make us all something to eat.

  The Eleventh

  “I don’t know why you are dragging me all the way up to London, Abs,” Stix says grumpily. Since I announced yesterday evening that we would be going shopping with my mother, Stix has been like a bear with a sore head. I had thought the prospect of having some fun and retail therapy would maybe cheer her, up but clearly I was wrong and now everything I do seems to just irritate her.

  I let out a sigh as my mother glances across at me. I haven’t exactly got much experience of dealing with stroppy teenagers and I am doing my best to be patient with her; it not exactly like she is having an easy time of it. But my patience is starting to wear a little thin and I don’t know how I am going to keep my cool if she keeps this up.

  In response, my mother merely turns up the music and soon we are humming along to various chart toppers. I have really been looking forward to spending some time with my mother but if Stix carries on with her moodiness, then I might have to drop her off with Taylor. By the time we begin to drive through the urban sprawl that makes up the outskirts of London, the tension in the car seems to have dissipated somewhat and I begin to feel a glimmer of hope for the rest of the day.

  Our first stop for the day is Harvey Nichols, a favourite of my mum’s. As usual, she seems to have everything planned out so she directs us up to the salon where we are promptly ensconced in luxurious leather chairs and then treated to deluxe manicures and pedicures. The lovely girl working on my feet comments on how swollen my ankles are and I have a good grumble about the ‘joys’ of pregnancy. She gives them an excellent massage and by the time she has brushed on the last coat of pearlescent cream varnish I actually feel like walking will no longer be a shuffling gait. Yippee.

  Even Stix seems a little bit happier, the glee evident as she surveys her electric-pink fingernails and contrasting turquoise toenails. She chats along happily with my mother who is suggesting that our next stop be the ‘style concierge’ which I’m guessing is just a posh name for personal shopper so that we can find some suitable dresses for Taylor’s party.

  While my mother and Stix hit the jackpot almost immediately, I am left feeling fat and frumpy as nothing I try on seems to fit properly. It would seem that being nine-months pregnant and wearing nice dresses don’t really go together. At this rate, I will be wearing a bin bag to Taylor’s party. By mid-afternoon, my mother decides that enough is enough, particularly as my mood has dipped significantly and I am definitely verging on what people call ‘hangry’, that grumpiness you get when you are hungry.

  “Right,” my mother says to me. “I think we are done here. Let’s go grab some afternoon tea up on the fifth floor, shall we?”

  The loud grumble my stomach gives is the only answer needed and for the next couple of hours we leisurely make our way through a smorgasbord of tantalising treats. It's only when Taylor calls me to find out where we are that we realise the time and make our way back to the apartment.

  The Twelfth

  I am sitting in the Starbucks just over the road from Hudson International and the apartment waiting for Michelle. Having received her mysterious text late last night to meet her before work, I am now turning over all the possibilities for my required presence in my mind but keep coming up blank. Mum and Stix are still tucked in bed, fast asleep, so I am enjoying a little peace and quiet, despite the mayhem of the rush-hour commute.

  I have just taken a sip of my creamy latte when Michelle rushes in. She spots me sat in the back corner and motions to me, asking if I want a drink. I hold up my mug and give her a grin and watch as she joins the queue. There is definitely something different about her today but I’m finding it hard to pin down. Her blonde hair is pinned up in a neat bun and her summer dress is business-like but there seems to be a glow about her that seems at odds with her formal attire.

  Before long, Michelle makes her way across to me and it's only then that I notice the sparkle emanating from her hand. “Is that what I think it is?” I gasp.

  “What, this little old thing?” she responds, holding up her hand and wiggling her fingers so that the ginormous ring occupying her engagement finger gleams under the lights.

  I let out a squeal that draws stares from the people around me but I just don’t care. “Tell me everything!” I demand.

  “Well,” Michelle begins, “Last night when I got home I opened the front door and I just knew something was up. Marc had called me earlier in the day to ask when I was likely to be home, which was just weird. Normally he is always later than me but I got the impression that he was up to something. Anyways, when I stepped through the front door, I noticed that the floor was covered in rose petals.

  “I followed them down the hall and when I got to the living room, I couldn’t believe what I saw. The whole place was covered with candles and roses; it was amazing. The smell was so intense as well, you know? These days, roses never seem to have much of a scent but the whole room just had the most gorgeous fragrance.

  Anyways, sorry I am getting side-tracked, there was this note that said to go through to the bedroom. Well, you know me…I thought I was going to find Marc naked on the bed. But instead there was this stunning dress laid out, along with heels and some, ah, rather provocative underwear,” Michelle says as she arches her eyebrows and gives me a secretive smile.

  “There was a second note that said ‘Be ready for seven-thirty’ so I quickly got dressed and did my hair and makeup. At dead on seven-thirty my doorbell buzzed and there was a freakin’ limousine waiting for me. I tried calling Marc’s phone because you can never to be careful and I wanted to make sure everything was legit—I think I have been watching too many horror films, you know the ones with the stalkers that lure their victims out and then chop them into pieces— but it just kept going to answerphone,” Michelle says dramatically and I let out a snort of laughter before urging her to continue. Seriously, I want her to get to the best bit.

  “I decided that I was just being silly so I got in the car and asked the driver where we were headed. He told me that it was a surprise. Of course it was. So we drove around for a while until I realised that we were in Old Bond street and I began to wrack my brains as I wondered why on earth we would be in that part of London. Then the driver pulled over and I realised that we were outside Tiffany’s. Yup, freakin' Tiffany’s.” I can’t help the little gasp of delight that escapes out of me.

  “Abs, it was like that scene from Sweet Home Alabama. The driver opened the car door for me and then there was another guy opening the door of the store and I was looking around me like a complete idiot because suddenly it w
as sinking in that there weren’t any other customers in the place; just me, a girl behind a large counter and the door guy. And then Marc stepped out.” I am swooning as I imagine the scene in my head. Marc is one seriously romantic guy; I think he deserves major credit for this proposal.

  “He got down on one knee and proposed and by that point the shock was wearing off and I had all these butterflies in my stomach and I couldn’t get a word out. I felt so bad because for a moment I could see he thought I was going to say no but then my brain and mouth finally connected and I was saying ‘yes’ over and over. And he looked so relieved and I felt so awful for making him feel like that.”

  I grab Michelle’s hand and examine the gorgeous diamond nestling on her finger as she tells me all about choosing the ring with Marc and then how they went out to this charming little brasserie and celebrated with champagne. “Serious kudos to Marc,” I say. “That guy has major style.”

  “I know,” Michelle sighs with a silly smile on her face. Her joy is radiating off of her and I can’t help feel a little smidgen of jealousy. Don’t get me wrong, Taylor is very romantic when he wants to be but there are times I feel envious that the only drama in Michelle’s life these days is the good kind.

  “Oh hun, I’m so happy for you. What did your folks say?” I ask.

  “I haven’t told them yet,” she says. “I wanted you to be the first to know, lovely.”

  “Oh, you silly thing,” I respond with a chuckle.

  “Nope. You’re my bestie, hun. You had to be the first person I told…I mean you’re practically my family anyway.” I give Michelle a wide grin and pull her over to me in a big hug.

  Michelle glances at the clock on her phone and tells me she has a couple more minutes before she needs to go into work before asking me how the plans for the party were coming on.