“Sport, we need to do some more paperwork, but at least the judge’s decision should help us. I’ll talk to my lawyer and we’ll get it started this afternoon,” with as honest a smile as he could muster Seth wanted Matt to have the confidence he didn’t feel. But surely, the community services team wouldn’t want to take Matt from a family who loved him.
“I don’t want to go back to them,” the big brown, frightened eyes stopped Seth in his tracks. He curled Retha back in her stroller, locking the straps before grabbing Matt by the shoulders.
“You are not going back to them. Over my dead body, do you hear me? I will move heaven and earth to keep you with us. We are a family. It’s a different family than you came to live with, but as long as you want to put up with me as your old man, you have me.”
“Is Matty going?” Eddie clamored between them, insisting that Matt pick him up. “I don’t want him to go. He’s my brother.”
“He’s not going anywhere, except with us for lunch.”
Thankfully, the kids, even the big one, were easily distracted by the offer of food.
His afternoon passed in a blur, getting everyone home in time to interview new nannies. The previous young mother was happy to work on the weeks she didn’t have custody of her own children. But with his ex-wife suddenly leaving town, and their children in his sole care, Seth needed someone more permanent. Quick phone calls to the agency could only find three possibilities. Unfortunately, the first two were either unsuitable or unwilling to take on so many children.
“I didn’t realize there was an older child as well,” the resume of the last applicant was impeccable.
“Matt is my foster child, we are sorting out the longer-term arrangements.”
“Oh,” her shoulders straightened. “So he lives here with you?” Seth wished her judgement of his situation was unusual. Unfortunately, he was becoming used to the looks and snide comments whenever he went out with the family. This wasn’t even the first time someone had queried whether Matt was a danger to others – not because they had even met Matt but because he was a “foster” child.
Seth couldn’t protect his family out in public, but he could inside their home. Instead of wondering how quickly she could start, he was now considering how fast she would leave.
“Is that a problem,” might as well cut to the chase.
“Well, in my experience, foster children require an extra level of care. They can be unpredictable in their reactions.”
“What are you saying?”
“Mr Greenwood, generally they are more prone to anti social behavior and can be a disruptive influence on other members of the family.”
“Matthew Night is an important member of our family and I will not have you assume things about him just because of his background. You couldn’t be further from the truth.”
She tried to back pedal, “I’m not saying that you would accept violence in this house, but you have young children of your own to protect and I cannot in good conscious work in a house where they may be at risk.”
In keeping with his own philosophy of no violence, Seth did not let the door hit her on the arse as she left.
“Dad?” Matt stood in the doorway with a cup of hot tea waiting. “Am I the problem, again?”
Seth’s heart broke. How many thirteen-year-old boys had to find their father hanging in the garage. From living with his loving father to being forced upon his mother, only to be beaten daily by her new husband as punishment for being his father’s spawn. Matt’s only lucky break was having John Compton as a school principal who intervened just as Matt started spiraling out of control. Seth had provided mentoring and support for over fifty young men since leaving high school.
He only ever became the guardian for one, Darby who was now in his mid-twenties and on posting with the Defence force.
From the moment he met Matt, there had been a connection, not only between Seth and Matt, but with the whole family. After Matt had been living with them for over a month, Seth reached out to his old social worker friend, Lucy Dawson, to make things permanent. Lucy pulled strings and for the past two years, Matt was his son in all ways other than legally.
Now, they needed to go through the bureaucracy again.
“You are a problem, you cheat at board games and never replace the toilet paper in the kids bathroom,” he ruffled Matt’s hair, taking a sip of the calming green tea. “You sleep through your alarm and miss the school bus every Friday after staying up far too late to watch the football.”
“I don’t stay up!” Matt faked his indignation. “I am up watching the Premier League football, it isn’t my fault that the game doesn’t finish until after the bus leaves. Australia is on a different time zone with the rest of the world.”
Just like that, Seth diverted Matt’s attention away from his adult problems and onto sport. Together, they read “one more” book to Owen, did “one more” jigsaw with Eddie, and watched Retha sleep.
“I’m going to a friend’s.”
“When will you be home,” anonymous friend meant his girlfriend.
“By nine.”
“Remember it’s a school night.” Seth wanted to keep him home and safe but couldn’t stop him from living his life, “Thanks for coming with me today, but you need to go to class tomorrow.”
“Yeah, I’ll be right.”
The large house was in utter chaos. Dishes piled high in the sink, he had resorted to paper plates at dinner so he could feed everyone before they fell asleep. The grey-white floor tiles had splotches of bright red going in a trail from the bench to the couch. He hoped it was only jam but was caught in a spiral of indecision. Sweep first or clean the jam. Or mop the whole floor. Floor first or dishes. Or washing?
Subconsciously, he played with the wedding ring still adorning his left hand. Six months of hoping she would change her mind and come home to her family. Six months of sharing their children week about. Spending his week alone cleaning the house so it would be ready for his children to walk in the door and turn back into a home.
Six months of wondering what he did wrong. Why, after all these years, did she decide … he couldn’t bring himself to complete the sentence.
Clutching his cup of cold tea in one hand and his phone in the other, he stood looking around the house.
“WTF happened,” he typed the text in the softest tones he could muster. But, seriously where to start? What sort of woman wakes up one morning and decides to go back to her former lover, then after all the initial hurt starts to die down and the kids seem to be adjusting, insists on formalizing the custody arrangements.
He lived in dread for weeks that she would change her mind and go for full custody. Especially when her new partner offered to look after the kids during the court decision.
It never occurred to his lawyer, or to him that she would walk away. Without a word to warn him, she walked away from his life and their children, withdrawing all claims in her custody petition on the morning of their case being heard and not even having the heart to face her children to say “good bye.”
Bitch.
Selfish, self-centred, heartless, bitch.
For months he struggled to wake up each day, overcome with his own grief and hurt.
Photos haunted him everywhere. Young lovers on the football bleaches at high school. Grace in his old jumper, snuggled in his arms. They loved each other as teens before she left him to go away for university. Breaking his heart but never his resolve to one day win her back, and he did.
“Once a cheater, always a cheater,” his mate, Joe, recently said over beers. “She cheated on her girlfriend with you, now she’s gone back to her.”
“Not helping, mate,” the truth hurt. Grace came back to town for a high school reunion. Drinks and playing “remember when” with their old friends led to a night that changed his world. Grace needed time to uncomplicate her life, but he had welcomed her back with no questions and no regrets.
The mother of his children deserved respe
ct, even from his friends who remained solidly behind him.
No one knew how hard Grace and Seth had worked back then to rebuild their relationship. For the first few years he believed that she had even learned to love him and put her old life and love behind her.
Whatever she wanted, he worked hard to provide. She didn’t want to give up her career by moving, so he made it possible for her to spend half her time in the city with her clients. Buying her a unit so she had a home away from home.
Doing whatever it took to keep building his business and raise their family. Loving her was his full-time job.
No one knew how hard he fought to hide his suspicions after Retha was born, wanting to believe in her and in them. Refusing to ask her questions when she disappeared for days at a time because he didn’t want the answers.
Thinking that she chose him once and if he was patient, she would do so again.
Only to have her walk out, straight into the arms of someone else.
He still loved her too much to hate her, and at any time before today, if she had turned around and come back home … Despite what his friends and family would say, he would have welcomed her back with no questions.
Until today.
Now, the woman he never stopped loving since he was Matt’s age, had done the unthinkable. Hurt their children. Not only hurt them but promised them to turn up today. For her girlfriend to take the kids to the movies and have ice-cream while the grown ups sorted out their future.
Not a phone call. No warning that she had changed her mind. No movies and no ice-cream.
Instead he answered a thousand questions without knowing the answers. “Where’s mummy?” “Why didn’t she come and see us?” The last and most difficult of all, “Doesn’t she love us anymore?”
Now he would have to fight to keep Matt safe, the boy she once claimed to care for as much as her own children was at risk because of her.
Then again, his bitterness surfaced, the moment she walked away from them all, she did treat Matt the same as her own.
He loved the Grace who had been his wife and partner. He hated the woman who could walk away from her family.
Loathe. Detest. Lost all respect for.
Seth stared at the text, the three little words didn’t say enough and, in any case, what excuse could possibly make up for today.
Slowly, he backspaced until the blank screen remained.
With a forlorn smile, he sent her a blank message. Give her something to think about for a change.
Almost midnight and the cupboards were full of clean plates and bowls again. A saucepan was soaking in the sink and most marks had disappeared from the kitchen table.
He wanted to make up a pancake batter for a breakfast treat, but instead made himself another cup of tea. Work emails awaited and he had a new project to bid for.
Standing in the hallway, he remained undecided. Sleep or work?
The buzzing of his phone gave him a moment’s reprieve from deciding.
“How did today go? L.”
Friends, then lovers, then slowly they had worked their way back to being friends.
He could only imagine how long it took Lucy to phrase the question. Lucy Dawson, one of the most beautiful hearted people he’d ever met. Warm brown, shoulder length hair, soft blue eyes and a wicked tennis serve. They met after both being invited to speak at a conference about working with vulnerable teens. A passion that gave him a purpose after high school.
Still smarting from a broken heart, he had thrown himself into finishing his apprenticeship and building a spec home with some friends. Flipping their first house was luck. Their second and third took hard work. By the time he started his business he had started working with his old high school to mentor teen boys. At first, he was young enough for them to relate to. Then he became successful enough to offer them their first job or to open other doors.
When he heard Lucy talk about her advocacy work, designing early intervention programs, he reached out to get some advice. Never expecting to fall for the woman behind the thin rimmed glasses.
Gorgeous, sweet Lucy. Their friendship became more, only to stall when he knew he was not ready to get over his teenage love.
Crazy and stupid. Lucy was perfect for him, and he was perfectly naïve enough to believe in fairy tales. Not even having the courage to tell her why. The old, “it’s not you, it’s me” seemed too little to explain the complexities of his feelings. What would have been worse is if he had told her that she was the one for him, if ever he could get over his first love.
Lucy, he never forgave himself for hurting her, even though once they picked up their friendship, she assured him he was not unforgettable. Still, she was the social worker that he now worked with almost as much as his old school, together helping dozens of teenage boys keep out of trouble. A trusted friend and sometimes mixed doubles partner who never married or had children of her own.
An honorable woman who respected his marriage and didn’t want to intrude when it fell apart.
Lucy sent him a single text after Grace left, “I’m sorry.” Then nothing until today. Seth could spend the rest of the night second guessing what she meant by the question. Or call her and find out for himself.
The need to hear her comforting voice couldn’t match his pride in needing to do this on his own.
He didn’t want to need anyone.
For reasons outside his control he was single.
His greatest role for the rest of his life would be that of father.
Until he figured out what that meant, he couldn’t allow anyone into his life.
“Daddy, I gotta go,” supporting Retha’s toilet training meant leaving a full trolley of groceries in the supermarket, hiking across the shopping center to find the family change and toilet room.
All conversation stopped when he walked in with two children and only a hint of suspicion when he entered the toilet with his daughter.
“Aunty JoJo!” the delighted squeal from Eddie out in the changing room, “Lemme hold her, where’s Kyle?”
“Kyle’s at school and you can hold Gemma when she is less stinky. Where’s your dad?”
“Retha had to go to the toilet and now we have to start getting food all over again. She’s such a baby.”
Inside the cubicle with the child-sized toilet, Retha finished up and he helped her wash her hands.
Forcing a confident smile before opening the door, “Jo,” he hugged her before she placed the baby on the change table, then extracted his children from around her legs.
“Grocery shopping with two kids, you must be the most patient man alive,” she laughed. “I barely get through it with one.”
“Yeah, well I don’t have a choice. I can barely keep a nanny long enough to put in the hours at work, so we manage. At least today Owen is at school.”
“You don’t have to do this on your own. Joe and I are happy to help, you have other friends.”
“They are my kids and my responsibility.”
“You know how I feel about her,” Jo’s face darkened. “I will never forgive her for what she has done to them.”
“Jo,” Retha had already joined her brother in the small play pen. “She is still their mother and you can’t talk about her like that when the kids are around.”
“What did you tell them?” Jo didn’t meet his eyes as she focused on her own daughter.
“Mummy went to live with Aunty Si and …” conscious of all the silent women trying not to listen. To hell with them. “They know their mother moved in with her girlfriend and has now moved overseas. I’ve told them that there aren’t many phones in Cambodia and that’s why she doesn’t ring.”
“Oh, Seth, you need to let us help you.”
The tightness in his chest came too late to warn him to close down the conversation, avoid sympathy at all costs and keep his grief and self doubt to himself.
“I don’t need help. I need my wife, their mother to come back and be a family again. I need to know ho
w to get them ready in the morning before the nanny arrives at eight so I can go into the office and keep my business afloat and the food on the table. I need to know how to keep the washing up to date, and the house clean and the bills paid at the same time.”
“Oh, Seth,” he hated the sympathy and letting anyone see him as anything less than being in control. The façade he built around him crashed.
“I need to know how to make sure they know I love them and would never leave them, that they are safe with me and I need to know how to convince community services that Matt should stay with us.”
“Seth, I had no idea.”
“No one does. It’s my life now. I come into rooms like this filled with mothers who love their children and they look at me as if I am a child molester. At some point, I’m going to be questioned for going into a bathroom or standing around waiting for my daughter. Don’t even get me started about what will happen when she’s old enough to go away for netball camps and I start booking airline tickets or hotel rooms for us to share.”
By now he had collected the nappy bag, picked up Retha from the play area and had Eddie’s hand. Joanne’s, “Seth” rang in his ears as he hurried back to the supermarket to hopefully collect and pay for his groceries.
After midnight and yet another day survived. Seth hit, “send” on one last email sorting out his new building development project before closing down the house for the night.
Room by room, he shut the curtains, avoiding the plethora of plastic building blocks, wooden tracks and trains, and half-finished jig-saws. He closed the door on what used to be Grace’s study and now the dumping ground for clean clothes waiting to be sorted or ironed. The older boys were now used to hunting for their clothes on an as-needs basis.
The kitchen was his never-ending source of embarrassment and challenge. No sooner had he spent an hour cleaning it, than Matt’s teenage hunger equaled another dirty saucepan with baked on macaroni and cheese or chilli.
The Question Is Page 28
