One More Thing

by Lilliana Anderson

  My cheeks flushed involuntarily when Jude looked up and met my eyes. The splint was gone and so was all the bruising. The subtle beauty of his face had been restored. “She’s upstairs.”

  “Can I wark her again?”

  “Sure, you can walk her. If it’s OK with your mum.”

  Ty turned to me, his eyes large and doleful, filled with hope. “Can I, Mummy?”

  “We don’t want to impose.”

  “It’s no imposition. Perhaps the next time you go to the park I can bring her out.”

  “We can go to the park now.” Ty started jumping up and down, clasping his hands.

  “I thought you wanted to have breakfast at McDonalds then go to Luna Park?” I asked. “Besides, I’m pretty sure Jude has work. Look, he’s wearing a tie and he’s carrying a briefcase.” Ty took in Jude’s appearance with a thoughtful look as I urged him to step onto the elevator so we could all be on our way.

  Jude held his briefcase up and made a face. “Sounds like you’re going to have more fun, anyway.”

  “You should come wiv us,” Ty said. “You can take a day off werk like Mummy did. And you can come and ride the roll-a coast-a.”

  An uneasy but amused laugh escaped Jude’s chest. “I’d love to come and have fun with you. But who would teach my classes if I’m not there? And who would see my patients? I’m kind of needed at work today.”

  Ty waved his hand in the air, making a face like he understood completely. “Next time, then.” My son was four going on forty. I thought it was sweet that Jude was so patient with him; most adults didn’t take the time to listen to a child speak. Their ears struggled to decipher the unrefined—often jumbled—language as it fell from their rosebud mouths. But not Jude. He not only understood, but seemed genuinely interested in what Ty had to say. He was revealing himself to be quite the remarkable man.

  “You teach and see patients?” I asked. The lift doors opened into the basement car park and we all stepped off, pausing in the vestibule.

  “I’m a speech therapist. There’s a clinic on campus and I see patients around my teaching schedule.”

  “That’s a lot of work.”

  He shrugged. “Not if we lose our funding. The clinic will go and…” Pausing, he shook his head. “You don’t need to hear all that right now. You have a fun day planned.” He stepped forward, activating the sliding doors that led into the parking garage. “I’d better get going. But, if you’re willing, I’ll probably take Sophie to the park Saturday afternoon. I can knock on your door before I go.”

  “Yes!” Ty shouted, pumping his fist in the air.

  “OK.” I grinned. “That would be great.”

  With a smile, he lifted his hand in a wave then strode off toward his car. As I buckled Ty into his car seat, he sighed happily. “I weally like Jude,” he said.

  “You know, I think I like him too.”

  6

  Friday, 11th November 2016

  HAULING GROCERIES OUT of the tray of the Navara, I wondered if I could manage to carry them all in one trip. One hand was still in a brace but there were only ten bags. I could probably manage that.

  When the bottom of one of the plastic bags split open, dropping cans of Watties Spaghetti on the concrete floor, I felt defeated before I’d even started.

  “Fucking arse,” I muttered, putting the bags I already had back in the tray so I could collect the wandering cans. I picked up one, two, but the third had rolled much farther.

  “Haven’t had this stuff for a long time.” Jude knelt down and scooped up that third can from several cars away.

  I smiled. “Oh, hey.” I picked up the fourth and final can, taking them all back to the ute and slotting them inside different bags. “They’re Ty’s favourite. He loves eating them with those tiny frankfurts. Not the healthiest meal, but when you have a picky eater you’ve got to go with what works.”

  “I remember my mother making me something similar when I was a boy,” he told me, handing back the can. “I grew up just fine…I think.”

  The comment made me laugh. “That’s how I think. But there’s so much focus on organic this and that these days. I get the guilts for not trying harder, you know?”

  “Ty’s healthy and happy. I don’t think you need to feel guilty about anything.”

  “You obviously aren’t a mother. We feel guilty about everything.”

  “I’m kind of missing some important equipment for that job,” he joked, reaching out to take most of the bags for me. “I’ll help you carry them upstairs.”

  “Thanks.” I smiled then led the way to the elevator, carrying the last couple of bags in my left hand.

  “So where is Ty tonight? With his dad?”

  Whenever someone referred to Tyler in passing, it felt as though they slapped me. It took me a second to recover, the need to step off the elevator on the ground floor giving me the cover I needed to compose myself.

  “Ah, no. He’s with his grandmother. She takes him Friday nights and they do something fun together. Gives me a chance to do fun things too, like groceries and budgeting.”

  A laugh burst from his chest. “No one tells you how un-fun this whole adulting scenario is.”

  “They really should warn us.” Pushing the door to my apartment open, I held it as he walked through then followed him to the kitchen where we both placed the bags on the bench top.

  I unpacked while we talked. I had a ritual of doing this while drinking a glass of chilled wine, so I pulled the bottle out of the fridge and offered Jude one too. He accepted. “You know, we spend our whole childhood wishing we’re grown-ups so we can do all the things we want, only to find out we can’t do any of it because there are jobs to do, bills to pay and responsibilities up to your eyeballs.”

  I lifted my glass. “That’s what this is for, to ease the tension of too much responsibility.”

  “The one perk of getting older.”

  We tilted our glasses toward each other, an air cheers, before taking a sip then getting back to the groceries. Jude handed things to me and I put them away and we continued to talk. It was all so normal. I had never had another adult to put the groceries away with; yet here I was, putting everything away and chatting to Jude like this was something we always did. I didn’t want to think about it at the time, didn’t want to go into what any of it meant. I was simply trying to be in the moment and enjoy it for what it was—something Tyler had insisted on, and perhaps the sentiment was finally rubbing off on me.

  “You know what time I really liked?” I continued. “University. That was a good age. It was that time between high school and true adulthood. Everything seemed so hopeful then. I think I could live that time over and over again.” I let out a sigh, memories of a healthy Tyler walking through my mind as I watched him from afar.

  “Or, you could be like me and never really leave university.”

  “Ha. That’s true. What’s it like teaching there? You’re a lecturer, right?”

  He nodded. “It’s exhausting. It makes me feel ancient. I honestly don’t know why half the kids even go to university because they don’t listen most of the time. They’re on their phones, or they’re stuffing around on laptops watching YouTube videos. It’s a complete waste of an education. I’m forever giving the ‘you’re adults and responsible for your own learning’ talk. But these kids have no desire to put any effort into anything. It drives me insane.”

  “I bet it does. I remember the guys in my lectures who stuffed around and made it harder for the rest of us.”

  “What did you study?”

  “Physiotherapy.”

  “And that’s what you do now?”

  I nodded. “I work at the Royal Prince Alfred. Rehab mostly.”

  He sipped his wine. “Noble work.”

  Leaning against the outside of the fridge after putting the last item away, I lifted a shoulder. “It’s a job. It’s a good job, one I like, but it’s still just a job.”

  With a smile, he placed his wine glass
back on the bench top, the liquid dancing excitedly at the movement.

  “I’m talking too much, aren’t I?” Lifting my hand, I touched it against my cheek, feeling warm from the small amount of alcohol I’d imbibed.

  “Not at all. I quite like listening to you talk.”

  “Well, you’re easy to talk to.”

  His mouth quirked as if he thought my saying that was funny but he didn’t want to laugh at me.

  “Can I ask you something?” He stood on the other side of the island bench, his eyes meeting mine as he placed his hands shoulder width apart and leaned forward slightly.

  “I may not answer, but sure, you can ask whatever you like.”

  “Why were you there that day? At the university. You obviously finished studying a while ago…” He left the rest of the sentence unsaid, but I understood his curiosity. It wasn’t a normal thing for someone to do.

  I chewed my lip, trying to think of some sort of answer that was both true and evasive. With each new person who came into my life, the time it took for me to mention Tyler seemed to extend. It gave me insight into why he wouldn’t tell people he was sick; people treated you differently when they felt sorry for you. And those looks—God, those looks—the pursed lips and the head tilt with eyes that just dripped with pity. They had no idea what to say to you when they found out you’d lost a loved one, so they just gave that look.

  Returning my attention to Jude, I gave him a small smile, the mask I set on my face to hide my real emotions. “I was just visiting some old memories. Like I said earlier, uni was my favourite time. Sometimes I like to sit there and people watch, just remembering.”

  He stared at me with slightly squinted eyes, slowly nodding while he absorbed my answer. I didn’t know if he bought it, or if he was sceptical, but he didn’t question it, and for that I was grateful.

  “Do you think that’s an odd thing to do?” I asked after a few beats, beginning to feel uncomfortable.

  He shook his head, taking a breath as if I’d just shocked him out of a memory of his own. “Not at all. Remembering is always a good thing.”

  I wondered what it was, what he’d been lost thinking about. He’d mentioned a stepmother—had he possibly lost someone too? His mother? I studied him, trying to figure him out just by absorbing the fine details of his features. There was an affinity between us, it had been there from the get-go. Was it grief?

  “I should be going,” he said, his voice quiet as he pushed away from the bench top. “Thank you for the…ah…” He pointed at the wine glass.

  “Thank you for helping with the groceries.”

  He nodded, running a hand over his dark hair before turning to leave. I wanted to ask him to stay, wanted to talk some more, learn more about him. Instead, I walked him to the front door with a promise to head to the park the next day so Ty could play with Sophie.

  I leaned against the wall once it closed. I felt heavy. The apartment suddenly felt so empty, a skeleton where so much life used to be. I rattled around inside it, trying to find something to occupy my time. With nothing taking my interest, I pulled out my journal and started writing. Understandably, the biggest question on my mind was what was I doing—why was I so interested in talking to Jude? I didn’t want another man in my life. I wasn’t even sure if I wanted another friend. But every time he showed up, I let him in, I let him near. And I didn’t question it until he was gone and the loneliness that existed in Tyler’s absence crept back in. With a sigh, I hugged a couch cushion against my chest and lay down.

  I wanted it to stop hurting.

  I wanted to remember him.

  I still wanted to miss him.

  But I wanted it to stop hurting.

  So.

  Much.

  I’d been hurting for so long.

  7

  Saturday, 12th November 2016

  AHEAD OF ME, Ty was skipping along beside Jude alternating between stories about what he did at Luna Park and questions about cats. I listened to the chatter, a smile on my face as I kept a couple of steps back.

  I suppose I could have let Jude take Ty to the park on his own; it wasn’t that I didn’t trust him around my son. It was more that I was fiercely protective and if I was honest with myself, I wanted to get out of the apartment too. The ghosts there had felt more determined lately. They were hiding around every corner, constantly whispering in my ear, ‘alone, alone, alone’. They wanted me to drown in my grief. The problem was, I didn’t feel like drowning anymore. I wanted to feel that sunlight on my skin.

  “What are you doing all the way back there?” Jude asked, the side of his mouth kicking up.

  “Giving you both room to move.”

  “Do you wan-ta wark Sophie, Mummy? It’s fun.” Ty ran the few steps backward to join me, pulling at my arm to urge me forward.

  “Why not?” I said when Jude offered me the lead. The cat trotted ahead the same way that dogs do and I laughed. There was something so silly about a cat walking on a lead that I couldn’t stop smiling. “She’s a lot better at this than she was the last time we saw you out.”

  Jude did that signature shrug of his. “I think she was just excited about being somewhere different. She knows where she’s going now, so she’s much calmer.”

  “Will you be sad to give her back?”

  “Not really. I mean, I like her, she’s great company. But I like waking up without a cat sitting on my chest staring at me. I also enjoy making dinner and not having to watch for a ninja cat that steals chicken and runs off with it. And speaking of ninjas, walking down the hallway has become a gauntlet of claws and teeth going for my ankles. I swear I aged a decade in this past week alone.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh. “Sounds like she’s just bored.”

  “I don’t see how she is. I literally spend half my time jiggling those fishing pole cat toys for her, and the other half is spent walking her around the neighbourhood. She’s the most pampered cat I’ve ever known. Now, Garfield, that was a cat—fat and lazy. All he wanted was food. I could handle that.”

  “How much longer do you have her for?”

  “Just until tomorrow. Cherie, my stepmum, comes back around four.”

  “You hear that, Ty? You were lucky. Jude has to give Sophie back tomorrow.”

  “Can we get a cat, Mummy?”

  “That wouldn’t be very fair to the cat. Where would she go when we went on holiday?”

  “To Nanny.”

  “What about when Nanny comes too?”

  “Then she could go to Granny and Grandpop’s on the farm. Or Jude could look after her. He’s ve-wy good with cats.” Ty scrubbed at an itch on his nose with a balled-up hand.

  “He has an answer for everything,” I told Jude who was chuckling.

  When we reached the park, Ty headed straight for the children’s equipment and started climbing and playing with some other kids. Jude and I sat and talked, the cat wandering back and forth while playing with blades of grass with her paws and trying to catch insects by pouncing on them. It was the most content I’d felt in a long time. We didn’t seem to run out of things to talk about. I spoke about growing up in the country and he spoke about growing up in another country all together. Each story seemed to flow into another and none of it felt like meaningless chit-chat designed to pass the time; it was real getting-to-know-you conversation. The kind of conversation that left you feeling a little fuller than you were before. The kind of conversation that made you smile when you recalled it.

  Things continued like that for the rest of the afternoon, movingly seamlessly into the evening when Ty insisted that Jude share in his tinned spaghetti and hot dog dinner. Everything about the day was simple. It was comfortable. It was fun.

  It wasn’t until after I put Ty to bed that I remembered the last time I’d had that kind of a day and the smile fell from my face. It was six years ago, sitting around a bonfire, leaning against Tyler’s warm chest looking at the stars.

  I felt my heart clench in my chest, the
sound in my ears, beat…beat. Beat. Silence.

  “Are you all right?” Jude’s voice pulled me back from where I stood frozen just outside Ty’s door.

  I sucked in a shaky breath. “I’m fine.”

  He looked at me with a tight brow line, concern in his eyes. “Are you sure? You looked…lost.”

  I am lost. I’m so lost that I’m panicking about being found. “I’m fine,” I lied. “I’m just tired.” I needed to be alone.

  “I was actually about to head off.”

  “OK.” My voice was this strange breathy whisper. I felt apart from myself, trapped somewhere between my past and present, my desires swirling together and turning into something that felt a lot like guilt. I wasn’t supposed to be having fun with another man. I wasn’t supposed to be having conversations that brought me closer to one either. I’d already been in love. I’d already experienced the love. This wasn’t supposed to be happening. I mean, I liked Jude. He was a wonderful man. But, was I? Could I be…falling…somehow? I stared at him in disbelief.

  “Sarah?”

  “Yes?” Had he been speaking to me?

  “I’m worried about you.”

  “Don’t be. I’m all right, I promise.” I’m not all right. I’m not all right.

  He pressed his lips together, his eyes searching, sceptical. “Listen, I’m not very good at this.” He gestured between us. “My sister, she’s much younger than me; she says that I’m not very good at ‘peopling’. I’m awkward, I talk too much about the things I believe in, push my views on top of other people’s. I’m blunt, selfish and I don’t really know how to be around other people for long periods of time without getting in the way or taking over. On top of that, I don’t have the warmest personality out there.”

  Seeing his distress, I realised he thought my mood change had been his fault. I didn’t want to hurt Jude. I didn’t want him to feel as though he’d been anything but perfect in almost all of our interactions.

  Feeling the need to help, I let go of my own fears and placed my hand on his chest to stop his rambling. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Jude.” A warm thump, thump met my hand and I pulled it away quickly as if burned. “You didn’t…I…I like the way you are. Don’t apologise for being you.” After what had been going on in my head moments before, my words shocked me but at the same time, it felt good to say them.