by Karen Deen
I grew up with the perfect family around me. I’d forever be grateful for the love we had and the feeling of always being safe. Many aren’t so lucky to have grown up in such a home. My parent’s life, although it was perfect for them, was one that I had decided was not going to happen for me. While thinking my siblings would all at some stage find that special person to love, cherish and share a life with, it was no longer in my life map. I was resigned to be the uncle who was always there to be fun, protect, guide and love any nieces or nephews that came along. I hoped there’d be plenty, but being a father was no longer an option for me. I always imagined I would make a good dad. I’d visualize it and see a little boy with brown hair and brown eyes like me. Or perhaps a little girl with ringlet curls like my sisters, with big eyes that would suck her Dad in every time.
My family would never know why, but the uncle life was the path for me. They would be the ones to benefit from the love I had to give, without the pain that could come in return when giving out that love. Family was your safe place. Well, it was for me.
When Mom and Dad arrived at the property for the first time, I held my breath. Although I knew I had made the right decision for me, their opinions were so important.
As their truck came slowly down the gravel drive from the front gate, I wondered what they thought of the house at first sight. Did they see it the same way I did? Was I the only one whose heart had skipped a beat on their first trip down the same strip of gravel that they now travelled?
The drive to my home was lined with maple trees that were bare at the time the property became mine. They stood tall, solid and strong, yet sparse as I’d crawled slowly towards the house that memorable day. They looked like they were reaching out to find someone to love the property and, in turn, them.
The truck crawled to a stop in front of the staircase where I stood at the top, looking down. Mom jumped out and raced around the front of Dad’s truck, which was his pride and joy. He always told us, ‘every man needs a truck so they can work hard and provide for their family’. Mom always giggled at that statement, but all of the boys in our family owned trucks, even if we had other vehicles. It was in our blood that every man needed a truck to be as big a man as our Dad. He was our hero.
Mom took the steps at a jog and jumped into my arms with a big tight hug. I wrapped my arms around her and buried my head into the crook of her neck. I took a deep breath and with it, the scent that was my Mom. My safe place. It was the scent that took you back in time to when you scraped your knee and she kissed it better. Or the time you were sick in bed and she sat all night holding your hand while you battled the fever. Mom was always home, no matter what.
I lifted my head up and looked down at her face which, now aged a little with many laugh lines (as she called them), had the loving smile she saved just for her kids. Although she was having a ball travelling with Dad, she missed her kids terribly. And although Dad would never admit it, I think he did too. Mom always said they were travelling now so that by the time grandkids were arriving, they would have that bug out of their system. There was no way in hell she was missing one moment of being a grandparent. God help her grandkids, they were going to be smothered with love! Then again, what more could any child want but to feel the love of a whole family?
Mom was not a short woman, standing at 5’7”. To my 6’2” height, her head sat perfectly under my chin and leant against my heart, taking it all in. When she looked up at me finally, her eyes were damp. There was warmth shining out of them and her smile lit up her whole face. It told me her heart had skipped that beat on the trip down the gravel driveway too.
“So, what do you think, Mom? Does it give a good first impression?” I asked, thinking I already knew the answer.
“Oh Zach, it is wonderful! What a precious looking home. It looks just perfect. I can’t wait to see what you do with it. I would love to hear all your ideas for it. Take us on the grand tour and share what your dreams are!” Mom bounced with excitement and talked quickly as she dragged me towards the front door.
“Hang on a minute, woman! Can I get a word in, or at least a hug from my son?” boomed Dad’s deep voice as he climbed from his truck.
“Hey Dad, thanks for coming to check the place out and give me your thoughts”.
“Zach, my boy, good to see you,” he said, giving me the typical Dad man-hug with the compulsory man-slaps on the back. Always three slaps. When we were little, I asked Dad why he always did three slaps on our backs. He laughed and hugged me, his arm around me with his hand on my shoulder blade. He slowly slapped me and said, “This first slap is to let you know I am glad to see you. The second is to let you know that I am always there for you. The last is the most important. It is to remind you that, no matter what happens in your life and no matter where you are, I will always love you.”
I have carried that memory with me every day since. For a man who always appeared to the outside world as the strong alpha male, he also had a soft spot that he only showed to his family. Even now, as grown adults that were out living their lives in the world, we immediately got the hug and three slaps from Dad. Only after Mom had hugged the air out of us first, though!
Dad pulled back from the hug and looked up, casting his eyes over the house. He went quiet and started to wander off around the outside of the veranda, lifting his eyes up and down and taking in the structural elements.
As I stood and watched him with anticipation, Mom tapped me on the arm and grabbed my attention. “Come on, Zach. Let him go. You take me inside and show me around this gorgeous new home of yours.”
I looked down at the excitement in her eyes and took her by the hand. We turned towards the front door and I lead her into my new world. The one I was creating to live in.
“I have so many ideas, Mom. I feel like my head is going to explode with the amount of activity that is going on in there. It’s hard to concentrate on work when my mind keeps coming back to here. I want to bring life back to it and show the house as it once was. There is so much beauty in the original architecture and building materials, but it has been left to rot. It’s been neglected for the last ten years, some of the house is past just a paint job. Some of the timber will need to be repaired or replaced to return it to its original state.”
Mom started to run her hand along the walls as we stood in the entry and fell silent while she assessed the sight that played out in front of her. What was she doing rubbing the walls, I wondered? It’s not like she was testing for wood rot or structural soundness, because Mom would never make a builder. After she stood for a minute, she turned to me with a serious look on her face. As she contemplated whatever she was thinking about, the wrinkles on her forehead relaxed and the corners of her mouth began to curve up towards her eyes, bringing out the warm smile.
“Um, Mom - what are you thinking?” She let out a nervous giggle, sighed and looked me straight in the eye.
“This house has a great vibe to it. It will make a perfect home for you, Zach, you can feel the love in its walls. It was built to be filled with the love of a family. It will be a special place for you to bring home a bride one day. The two of you will fill it with love and a family of your own. It will be magical for this house to be the home it was built to be by the old couple. There is magic here, Zach, I can feel it.”
My heart stopped beating and my brain froze. How do I break my mother’s heart and tell her that would never happen? There would be laughter and smiles here, but the love of a family would only be here when they came to visit. I stared at her while she continued to talk ten-to-the-dozen, but I didn't hear a word. Doubts began to creep into my mind. Did I do the right thing buying this property? Was it meant to be a home for some lucky family who would have kids running around screaming, laughing and climbing the trees? A dog chasing at their heels as they rode their push bikes from the house to the front gate and back?
“Zach…..Zach………ZACH!” Mom started waving her arms madly in front of my face. “Where did you zone o
ut to, Zach, this isn’t like you? Are you okay, honey? Did I scare you with all the talk of a bride and kids?” She sniggered to herself. “Don’t worry, plenty of time for that. Let’s get the house fixed up first and then you can go looking for your bride to make it a home.”
Just paint on that smile again, Zach, and it will be okay. Take a breath and just relax. Breathe in, then out, in, then out. Every breath in is helping put another layer of bricks between the safe side of the love wall and the other side that I can’t go to.
“Zach, are you okay? You look pale and have lost that excited look you had when we first walked in.”
“Sorry Mom, just got lost in a daydream about the renovations” More like a nightmare, I thought to myself. “How about I show you through the downstairs living areas, then we can take a look upstairs at the bedrooms and bathrooms. What do you say?”
I held my arm out for her to take, and the moment she linked her arm in mine, the calmness of a mother’s love warmed my body. I relaxed into her side as we stepped together down the hallway through to the formal lounge room. This was the room where I had visions of me after a long day at work, sitting back in my leather recliner in front of the open fire. I’d watch the flames dance over the wood as it burned. The warmth would spread through the room, enveloping me and seeping into my body, relaxing my muscles. My body would sag back into the cosiness of the chair and I could lose my thoughts gazing out the large bay window facing the front of the property. I would look towards the surrounding open space of the farm, with the beautiful trees that line the drive and the mountains in the distance. A great way to unwind with a glass of red wine and just contemplate the world.
As we studied the room, I explained my visions in broad terms to Mom. I wanted to keep part of my dream as mine for a while until such time as it was completed or I was ready to share it. Mom loved the room and all that I was going to do to bring it to life. The rest of the tour went much the same as I lead her from room to room until we ventured upstairs.
“Wow, look at the size of this master bedroom, it’s huge! Especially for the era the house was built in. And the views from this window to the river and mountains are spectacular! I can imagine what it would look like at night lying in bed looking out to the stars over the mountains. Zach, you could not have found a more perfect home!”
“Thanks Mom, it means a lot to hear you say that. You know, Grant didn’t talk to me for a week when I told him and Luke that I had bought it.”
I jumped a little as Dad’s voice came from behind us unexpectedly. “Your mother is right, Zach. This is a great buy with plenty of potential to bring it back to its prime. Don’t worry about your brother. He is just sulking because he had to realize you don’t need him to hold your hand. I swear he thinks he is the father of this family, frickin’ control freak!”
Mom nearly choked as she burst out laughing at my Dad. “Gee, Mitch, I wonder where he gets that character trait from?”
“Bite that cute little tongue of yours, Sophia,” he said as he strode across the room and wrapped her up in those big manly arms of his. He leant down and placed a very tender kiss on her lips and whispered, “Or will I have to shut that cheeky little mouth for you?” He winked, making her blush.
As much as I love my parents, there were times when I thought, I do not need the vision of you both doing anything else other than kissing and cuddling.
Mom stretched up on her toes to whisper in Dad’s ear as I turned to stare out the window. I didn’t need to share in that private moment.
“Like I said, Zach, the house is structurally sound, and I look forward to seeing what you do with it”. As we stood staring out to the farm sprawling before us, Dad asked me what I planned to do with the worker’s cottage.
“I am going to fix it up first to a neat livable standard, then move in there to live while I work on the house. That way, I can take my time on the house and continue on it at night after work. I won’t have a thirty-minute drive home each night after I finish.”
“Sounds like you have it all thought out, son. I am proud of you and know you’ll do a good job.”
“He had a good teacher, Mitch.” My Mom’s pride showed in her eyes as she looked up into my Dad’s.
“She’s right, Dad, you taught us all so well. Not only about building, but how to be a man. I hope I have lived up to that for you.” In my heart, I didn’t think I had. But it didn’t stop me from desperately wanting to hear it from my father.
“As I said, Zach, I am proud of you and who you are. Just as I am of your brothers and sisters. You have all grown into great people. Your mother and I are excited everyday watching you all embrace life.”
“Thanks Dad, it means a lot,” I whispered as I stood trying to process the emotions created by what he’d said.
“Now enough of this mushy crap. What’s a man got to do around here to get a feed and a cold beer?” Laughter echoed off the bare walls and the moment was gone. Another rare glimpse of Dad’s soft side to store in my memory bank.
The day ended with us in the local steakhouse. We chatted over the house plans and heard about their last trip. Dad wanted to get up to speed on where work projects were up to. He might be retired, but always liked to keep his finger in the pie. The day ended with Mom probing me for gossip on my siblings.
We’d made a pact years ago. Mom got the everyday gossip, but anything serious we kept to ourselves, so the person involved could share it when they were ready. It worked most of the time until Mom hunted for confirmation that one of us was in need of her help. The thing was, she was usually spot on the money. I guess it was part of a mother’s sixth sense, like when you were younger, and she already knew what you’d done wrong.
I would always look back on that day with a smile and the memory of my parent’s love, feeling so at home and safe. As I floated back into the present, I saw the edge of the city and heard the sound of horns above the tail end of Bon Jovi’s “Living on a Prayer”.
Chapter Two
Emily
What is that annoying noise that keeps interrupting my rest in the hammock?
Oh good, it’s stopped. I could feel the warmth of the sun on my body all the way into my muscles. It must’ve been the direction of the sun because I could feel the warmth more from the waist down. There was that noise again, spoiling my relaxation. It was getting louder and the warmth I was feeling now also felt damp. Actually, more than damp - I felt wet. Why do I feel wet but warm? And wait - that noise. Oh, far out that is my alarm clock! Crap, it can’t be morning already! I have only just got into bed. As I tried to rollover and hit the alarm clock to shut off the annoying noise, I felt a little speed hump in my bed. Samuel, oh man. When did he arrive in my bed during the night? I was so exhausted that I didn’t even hear or feel his arrival.
As I tried to sit up and lean over Sammy to silence the alarm, my hand felt the sheet and then my relaxing dream quickly turned to a bad dream. The sheets were all wet and so were my pyjama pants. I felt Sammy and his pyjama bottoms were saturated.
Welcome to Monday morning, Emily. The day has already turned to crap and you haven’t even made it out of bed yet. My poor Sammy. As much as I wanted to scream, my heart just wanted to wrap up my little boy and make him feel safe. Ever since we had to move into this apartment, he had started wetting his bed at night again. The doctor had said it should get better once he adjusted to the change. How long that would take was anyone’s guess.
I felt terrible that my moving the kids again had made him vulnerable, but I’d had no other choice. When the landlord of the previous flat said he had to put the rent up, I knew our days were numbered. I tried to barter with him, offering to do odd jobs around the complex. I tried everything short of begging, but he had always been an arrogant, heartless man. He was short with a podgy stomach and greasy hair, balding on the top but had three strands of hair he combed over the top all the time. It looked ridiculous. He thought he was pretty hot, but the only reaction he brought to my mind was
vomiting.
I had always kept my interaction minimal, but remained polite. We needed the apartment. It was a good neighborhood and close to the twin’s school and my job. It was clean, tidy and within my budget. There were other children in the block around the same age, which made play time easier to entertain the twins. I made some friends and we helped each other out with the kids.
When the landlord dropped the bombshell of the rent increase, he stood and watched me crumble in front of him. When I offered to work around the complex to help pay the increase, he refused. He then put his hand on my arm and started to slide it up towards my shoulder. I shuddered and pulled away instantly. He then had the hide to tell me we could work off the rent increase another way and he would keep it just between us. I felt the bile in my throat and couldn’t stop my reaction, which happened simultaneously with the last word coming out of his slimy mouth.
My hand collided with his cheek hard. He jerked his head to the side and his three comb-over hairs flew up in the air. I didn’t wait for him to speak. I turned on my heels and shouted over my shoulder where he could shove his offer and that I would be out by the next weekend (which was when my rent was paid up to).
I stormed back into my apartment and slammed the door. Luckily, the kids were over at Maria’s playing. Once inside, I leaned back against the door and slid down to the floor. Tears fell hard as I curled my knees up to my chest. Once again, I had no home for Samuel and Sophia and that ripped a hole through my heart.
I sat and cried for a few minutes until I could get my breath back. Okay, Princess. Time to suck it up and get on with finding a new home. You have been in this position before and you can get through it again. I never let myself believe life would be okay and get easier, because it never did for us. Not sure why, but that was just our life. If you accepted it, then it made it easier to cope with.
