“Nana,” I cry, hugging her back, clinging to her as I sob against her shoulder. She just said everything I needed to hear. Everything I needed to feel loved. In the midst of my turmoil, I know I made the right choice in coming here. This place is where I’ll heal.
IT TAKES three days before I’m fit to leave the confines of the fold-out bed in Nana’s craft room. We tell the kids I have the flu and they visit me sporadically, bringing with them soup and bread rolls. Archer regales me with stories about his adventures with Nana, and Abby asks if I’m sure it’s just the flu. When I assure her I’ll be fine, she expresses a desire to make some friends her own age, kids she’s been seeing at the beach across the street. I tell her that’s fine as long as we know where she is and when she leaves happy, I have a rare moment where I smile and consider myself ready to face the world.
But then I remember why we’re here and the tears come again.
So. Many. Tears.
They seem unending until I wake up on that fourth morning to the smell of porridge and the sounds of laughter. Even Abby is laughing. Nana simply cannot be disliked. Suddenly life feels bearable again. The sun is still shining, life is continuing, and the tears are just…gone. Like my tear ducts have finally dried up and the cloudiness in my mind has cleared. No more time for self-pity. Kevin left. That’s the cold-hard fact that I have to face, and lying in this bed isn’t going to change that. It’s time to accept my new reality of the abandoned wife—
Blergh. That sounds awful. I don’t want to call myself that. How about I focus on the other side of this unfortunate coin and call myself a ‘newly single mother’ instead? It might soften the mental blow a little.
Although, single? I certainly don’t feel comfortable with that adjective just yet. Maybe a newly solo parent. Yes. I think that works best. Darcy Field: Solo Parent; Writer of lists; Keeper of schedules. Yes. That suits me. I’m going with that. The new me is born.
Pushing up from the bed, I wonder if the new me has had an altercation with a Mack truck. Everything aches and my face feels all puffy. When I shuffle into the bathroom, the new me looks back with craggy hair, red-rimmed eyes, and a chapped nose.
“You are one sexy list maker, Darcy Field,” I tell myself, my voice all croaky and hoarse. Running the shower, I do all the things one is supposed to do when scrubbing away a three-day self-loathing binge. I wash and condition my hair, scrub my skin raw, shave my shavables, and brush my teeth. When I emerge, all warm and smooth-skinned, I wrap myself in a fluffy purple towel before the new me encounters her first problem.
“Er, Nana,” I call out, talking through the cracked door.
She comes almost immediately. “Is everything all right, dear? Feeling better?”
“I am. But, ah, this is quite embarrassing actually: I seem to have forgotten my clothes.”
She frowns. “Your clothes? Are they in the bedroom? No one will care if you walk from here to there in a towel, sweetheart.”
“Ha, I wish that were the case. No. I mean, I don’t have any clothes at all. I didn’t pack any.”
“Oh, dear. Well, just wait there and I’ll get you something. Then if you like, you can join us in the kitchen for breakfast. I made porridge.”
“Thank you, Nana. I’m starving actually.” I haven’t had real food since the day Kevin left.
She grins and touches the flat of her palm to my cheek. “I’m happy to see you up and about, my love.”
“Thank you for letting me wallow, Nana,” I whisper.
In response she smiles and nods. “I’ll get you those clothes.”
Once I’m dressed in a borrowed kimono, I head into the kitchen area, finding Nana helping Archer as he happily sprinkles dried fruit over his bowl of cooked oats. “Not too much, dear. It’ll be too sweet.”
“I like sweet,” Archer replies, tongue poking out in concentration. Then he spots me and his face brightens. “Mummy!” He jumps up and runs towards me, colliding against me full force, holding me so tight that I miss him even though he’s standing right here. I never want this level of affection to end, but it will. He’ll grow up, and this age will be but a moment in my memory. Sigh. Childhood is too short.
As if on cue, Abby breezes past me without stopping. “Nice dress,” she says, shooting me a smile over her shoulder as she takes a seat at the breakfast table. Well, that’s something I guess. She already has a tan, and her hair is textured from the salty air. I feel like Rip Van Winkle waking up covered in vines. Life kept going without me, without Kevin. Stand up and live, Darcy. Join in. You’ve already missed enough.
Bending to kiss Archer on the top of his head, I take a breath and give myself a secret smile. I’m going to get through this. Day one of a new life begins with a cuddle and a family breakfast.
I take my seat at the table. “Well, this is nice, isn’t it?” I say, inhaling the vanilla-scented oats as Nana places a bowl in front of me. It warms my heart seeing my kids warm so quickly to Nana. I feel like they’ve missed out on so much time with her, time I really cherished as a kid. I unintentionally robbed them of that by not pushing for more time here. I could have brought them here alone since Kevin didn’t want to come along. I didn’t try hard enough.
I’m glad they have the chance to get to know her better now, and I also vow to make visits to Nana’s a regular thing in the future.
“There’s no milk.” Abby scowls and lets the porridge drip from her spoon, her mouth turned downwards.
“There’s rice milk,” Nana says with a smile.
“That’s not milk. It’s opaque water,” Abby counters. What was I saying about how nice this moment was?
“Rice milk is still milk,” I reply. “It works just fine.” Reluctantly, she pours some in her bowl, looking like I’m making her eat fried crickets or something. But it’s nice to see that while my own world seems shattered, theirs is still whole. That was the point in coming here.
Pushing away from the table, I pick up one of Nana’s handmade ceramic mugs and carry it over to the kettle to make myself a cup of tea. “Want one?” I ask Nana. She shakes her head.
“No, thank you, dear.”
“I didn’t even know you could milk rice,” Archer says, his face scrunched up in thought while he mixes the fruit and porridge. “Do they even have titties?”
“Archer,” I gasp.
Of course, Nana just laughs it off and explains that rice milk is made by soaking grains of rice in water. Archer is fascinated by the process, but disappointed there are no milking teats on a ‘rice plant’ (his term).
While they chat, I make my tea. There’s an entire drawer dedicated to it, and I pick a simple Earl Grey blend, spooning it into a tea strainer before I drop it in my mug.
“You’re so patient with him,” I say as I sit at the table, my mug warming my hands.
Nana smiles and pushes the dried blueberries my way, obviously remembering they were my favourite as a child. “I’m old. All I have left is time.”
“Well, I’m going to the beach,” Abby announces, pushing her barely eaten breakfast away.
“Are you asking or telling me?” I give her my stern mother look as she sighs and drops a hip.
“Is it OK if I hang out at the beach today?”
“Of course. Just wear sunscreen and keep your phone with you.”
With another sigh, she saunters off, her bare feet slapping on the white tiled floor as she heads for the bedroom she’s sharing with Archer to change.
“It’s a hard age,” Nana says, her keen eyes taking in the exchange. “Caught between a kid and an adult. You know, she’s been making friends with some other kids her age. They seem to get along quite well. And you can see them from the deck if you need to. Perhaps giving her at least the illusion of freedom could help.”
“You don’t think she should ask permission to go out?”
Nana shrugs. “Did you when you stayed here?”
I down the rest of my tea. “It was a different time then.”
&nbs
p; “I think you’ll find that times haven’t changed that much. People just talk about the crappy things more.” She gives me a knowing look then picks up my empty mug and looks inside.
“Are the tea leaves telling you something?” I ask as she turns the mug around and studies them.
“I haven’t the foggiest. I just like trying to make shapes out of them. Like clouds. See, that kind of looks like a lion doing ballet, don’t you think?” She shows the mug to me and all I see is a dark mess, but Archer is on top of it, peering in and adding, “He’s on roller skates.”
I smile and eat my porridge, enjoying the moment. I honestly don’t remember the last time I felt this light. The last eight months with Kevin’s treatment were so full of anxiety and activity that I felt like I was constantly spinning plates, panicked one would fall. And as much as Kevin leaving was a dick move, I actually feel…better now. Sitting here watching my grandmother and my son giggle over tea leaves, it hits me that I don’t have to worry about him anymore. That constant thought about what Kevin needed and what Kevin thought or felt is no longer required by me. I don’t even have to do anything for him anymore. And I’ll tell you this, that thought just made me feel a fuckload better. I still hate that he left, hate that he ran from his kids, but if that means I never have to wash another item of his clothing, never listen to him moan about the kids being too unruly, I’ll take it.
I’ll take it.
FIVE
DARCY
“I had a dream that this was all a dream. I hadn’t come running here in the middle of the night the way I did, and Kevin didn’t leave.” Nana and I sit on a bench at the beach and watch Archer search for shells in the sand. “I was at home and everything was normal. Even the cancer was a dream. And I was angry because I was folding laundry and he was playing some game on his computer, chatting to someone on his headset like he couldn’t see me working right beside him.”
“Sounds like a nightmare to me. Didn’t he do his share around the house?” Nana is using a Japanese paper fan to create her own breeze even though the ocean’s wind keeps whipping at our hair and clothes.
“Not really. He always said that he made the money so I ran the house. He was a traditionalist.”
She scoffs. “Last I heard, women had the right to vote and everything these days. No need to live like it’s the fifties. Did you ever have time to play computer games?”
“With the kids’ school and activities, the housework and errands? No way. I was lucky if I had time to read a book a month.”
“But Archer is at school now. Surely you had time to yourself during the day?”
“I’m on the school council and I help out with reading groups and the canteen at Archer’s school. At Abby’s school, I help run the uniform shop. Then there’s weekend sports and errands. I’d have dry cleaning and post office visits...Kevin would only eat meat that was brought that day, same as bread. So, I shopped every day.”
“Oh my. I didn’t realise you were his personal assistant. Where was your time for you?”
I stopped for a moment. “I don’t know. I took a little here and there. I like making and decorating journals. So I’d do that to relax, but I also sold them on Etsy because Kevin didn’t like the clutter they created. I like to keep busy.”
“And you were married for what? Twenty years? You could have murdered someone and been released in the same amount of time. And they give you time to read and laze about in prison.”
“Oh God, Nana. It really wasn’t that bad.”
“Sounds like abject servitude to me. I divorced at least two of my husbands for less.”
I shrug. “He did work a lot. And he mowed the lawns, took the rubbish out. Stuff like that.”
“Well then, let’s give him a medal, shall we? Two whole household duties. What a man.” She flings her hands out dramatically.
I laugh. “I know things weren’t perfect between us, Nana. I mean, they were far from it. But I always thought things would be different when the children were older. I’d get the chance to work and Kevin could work a little less and we’d spend more time together, be a little more equal, you know?”
“Oh, sweet girl, men never change. You’re adorable to think that, but from what I saw and heard over the years and with what you’re telling me just now, he had you right where he wanted you—firmly under his thumb. Frankly, I think you’re far better off without him. Kick your shackles off and be free.”
I take a deep lungful of air then let it out in a whoosh. “If I’m honest, I do feel better without him. I mean, now that the shock of it has worn off and I’m analysing everything, I feel…lighter. Does that sound horrible?”
“No, darling. It sounds exactly right. I don’t think you realised what an oppressive force that man was in your life.”
I sigh. “You sound like Jo.”
“We can’t both be wrong.”
“I don’t think he was oppressive per se. He was just…ugh, needy. God, I’m making him sound horrible because I’m angry, but he wasn’t always bad. I mean, he worked hard; late nights, intense conferences. It’s why I could sell this trip to the kids so easily. He gets called away for conferences all the time. And I wasn’t ignorant to his faults. I just wanted us to work, and I was willing to push aside all that petty fighting about housework and whatnot. We both came from broken families and we always swore to each other that we’d never split. I stood by that promise because as much as I didn’t like him sometimes, I never hated him enough to separate him from his children. And now, look”—I lift a hand to indicate Archer—“our kids will grow up without a father, all because he couldn’t keep a promise. I hate that he gave up on us, Nana. And I hate that there was zero warning. It’s like our marriage was a balloon he grew tired of holding, so he stuck a pin in it, and now we’re all…” I blow a raspberry, my tongue between my lips as I wave my arms around like an octopus.
Nana chuckles before growing serious again, thoughtful. “Did you ever wonder if maybe those business trips and late nights at work were signs of an affair?”
I suck in my breath because no, I hadn’t thought that. I’d always trusted that he was as invested in our relationship, our family, as I was. Were there niggles of doubt occasionally? Of course. But I trusted him. He’d always said cheaters were cowards, so I trusted him to choose us always. What a fool I was.
When I go to speak, I have to clear my throat to keep my voice from wobbling. “I don’t know what to think anymore, Nana. I’m quite lost to be honest. I’m in this strange limbo where I was married and suddenly I’m separated, and I’m trying to find a way to be OK with that. Thinking about Kevin cheating when he was always adamant he never would... It won’t help me.”
“Oh dear. I’ve upset you.”
“No, Nana, you haven’t. I just…I just want to focus on what’s in front of me. The kids, a new direction. What ifs will just make me crazy.”
Nodding sagely, she pats my hand. “You’re definitely in a bit of a tailspin, but I think I know what you need. I’ll take you to Betsy. Remember her? She’s my oldest friend and the biggest busybody in town, knows everything about everyone. She says it’s because she reads the cards, but I know she’s just an eavesdropping gossip.” I smile because I do remember Betsy. She and Nana have always been as thick as thieves. From memory, they met on the first day of school way back when and haven’t been out of touch since.
“How’s Betsy’s gossip going to help me sort my life out?”
“It wont. She’ll read your cards though.”
“I thought you said she isn’t any good at reading cards.”
“I didn’t say that. She’s excellent. But she’s also a gossip. Don’t tell her anything you don’t want her to know.”
“Won’t she see everything in the cards?”
“Pish. She just deals them. She doesn’t know what they mean.”
“I am so very confused right now.”
“Of course you are. But the cards will give you focus so you ca
n make decisions about your future. You’ll see.” She smiles and nods, scanning the length of the beach and taking in the array of characters littered along the sand, soaking up the sun, swimming in the sea. “Speaking of new focus.” She folds her fan up and lifts her chin, indicating a figure running towards us along the shoreline: black shorts, shirt off, heartrate monitor strapped about his tanned chest. I don’t give him much more than a cursory glance, but he does look somewhat familiar. I’m not sure why.
“Looks like he’s really into his fitness.”
“That’s not the kind of focus I’m talking about, dear. You’ve been with the same man for twenty years and now you’re free. Look at him properly. Surely your ovaries hurt just looking at him. A fine specimen of man if ever I saw one. Leo is his name. Used to play rugby for Australia, but he’s retired now. Does radio and a bit of sports commentary on the telly during footy season and has some furniture business on the side. But don’t let that bore you, the eye candy is supreme, wouldn’t you say? At forty-five, the man certainly hasn’t let himself go.”
“Good-looking or not, I can’t even think about men right now, Nana. I just broke up with Kevin.” Actually, I was just dumped by Kevin.
“All the more reason. And you don’t think in these situations, dear. You look. You feel. You know they say the best way to get over a person is to get under someone else. I don’t know who came up with that pearl of wisdom, but they were right on the money with it. You have to clear away those sexual ghosts.”
“Sexual ghosts?” I roll my eyes and focus on watching Archer sift sand through his fingers.
“The memory of the last time you had sex. If it’s with a person who conjures up a bad memory, you need to clear that away with a good one. And don’t you think a man with a body like that would be amazing in bed?”
Love is a Beach: a romantic comedy Page 3
