by M R Field
Part of me wants to tell her that she should already know where my feelings lie. That they are scattered within the coloured pages of my comic that she loves so much. But, even in a moment like this, while I’m so desperate to remember every detail of her face to sketch later—I can’t. This moment is far too precious to be captured in print. It’s ours, and ours alone. I know I need to tell her, but now isn’t the time. Besides, I want to give my characters the perfect journey and do right by her.
“Theo,” she breathes against my lips, her chest rising rapidly as her pants turn me on. “I want this.” She pecks my lips. “I want us.” She kisses me again. “I want to take a chance.” Her hand rubs down my back, and the burn causes my spine to curve slightly. “What’s wrong?” Her heated gaze stares at me, a mixture of lust and confusion.
“I got more artwork done today after I saw Ko.”
She smiles in glee, lifting the edge of my shirt, but I stop her.
“I’ll show you later.” I wiggle my eyebrows at her as she flicks my shoulder with her hand.
“I’ll hold you to that. But for now, if my senses aren’t wrong, I think my dad is cooking something, and I’m starved.”
“Well, let’s get you fed, then.”
“I have an apology to make to him, too,” she adds, biting her lip.
“He’ll forgive you for whatever it was.”
“I was rude to him about having a female friend. He should be meeting people. He shouldn’t be alone. He’s been so miserable on the phone.”
“Then I bet you’ll find that he’ll forgive you.”
Trin leans forward and wraps her arms around me ,muttering against my lips, “Still don’t think I deserve you.”
“I know. Like I said, you deserve better,” I remind her, rubbing my nose against hers.
“Oh shut it, princess.” I feel her smile against mine before she presses her lips harder and kisses me. We shift on the bed as the kiss unfolds, but the edge of the box beside my hip pokes me.
I break away, scrunching my hand in her hair to hold myself back. “I faced my demons today.” I look at her deep blue eyes and tread carefully. “Are you ready to face yours?”
Her eyes lower to my hip as her face pales. “I’ve been so scared of that box.” An uncomfortable chuckle passes her lips. “I thought I could hide it under the bed and it wouldn’t come out to scare me. I guess I was wrong.”
I straighten the box and move it closer to her. “I am here, if you want to do this. If you want to be alone, I can be just outside that door, and you can call out—”
“Stop!” she cries as she clutches the box. “I just need a moment to grow my lady balls. You’re not moving. I can do this. I need to.” Her chest rises dramatically, and she flicks her labret with her tongue. This would be the worst time to tell her that I want to lick it.
The dust from the cover unsettles as she opens the lid to reveal a box lined with letter after letter, all tucked away neatly.
“Wow.” My eyes linger on the multi-coloured envelopes. Even now, Harmony still has a way to bring colour to our world.
“Dad told me that she’d written all these letters for special moments for me. I can’t imagine which ones she wrote as this box is chock-a-block full.”
“She wanted you to live a full life, firecracker.” I rub her knee in support. My brave temptress is about to make me even more proud of her.
“God, I’m scared,” Trin mumbles, as her fingers slide up the envelopes. She reaches the end and draws out the first. A soft sigh leaves her lips as she utters, “This is the one I started and never finished.” Her eyes well with tears as she breathes out slowly. “Her goodbye letter.”
“Take your time. I’m right here.”
“If I pass out, catch me, okay?” she pleads.
“You won’t, but I’ll catch you either way.”
“I’m going to be such a mess. Bet my face puffs up like a pufferfish.” She chuckles half-heartedly.
I stroke her face to centre her. “There is beauty in pain. I see beauty through that pain that shines through you. Give me your fire, your anger—give it all to me. You’re allowed to grieve. You’re allowed to feel. Let me see you. All of you.”
Unfolding the letter from the envelope, she shuffles on the spot until she’s comfortable. She flicks her eyes up to mine. I nod, and she lowers her gaze to begin reading.
My baby girl,
Oh, how much I would give to be sitting next to you right now. I know you’re hurting, my love; I can’t tell you how much it pains me, knowing that you are reading this letter. Leaving you with this breaks my heart. How does a person even begin? If I could, I’d write you a million letters, so you’d have one every day. But I can’t. I barely have the strength to write this one.
Know that I fought, Trinity, with every part of me, I fought. Sadly, my plans on this earth took a turn that I didn’t expect. So, if my destiny is to be robbed from watching you grow and be the woman you are born to be, know that I am with you in spirit. Every step of the way. I want you to grow into the woman you were born to become—strong, determined, fearless, and loved. I want you to soar, my darling. I want you to never be afraid.
Choose a life full of colour, and never ever hold onto regret. Life is far too short. If I can’t hold your hand along the way, remember that all you have to do is have a beating heart, as that’s where I’ll be. Beating alongside you. Taking each step with you as you live your life.
I love you. Past the stars, the love-heart-shaped ones, and all the mushy stuff in between.
Mum
“Oh my God.” She hiccups, and streams of tears cascade down her face. “I can’t believe she wrote our saying.” Her voice breaks.
“Which one?” I stroke her face, a sense of pride fiercely resurfacing. I brush the tears away, marvelling at the strength she has, knowing that’s a part of why I’ve always been drawn to her.
“Past the stars, the love-heart-shaped one … we used to make up many other ones, like rainbow stars and unicorn stars … Sometimes saying good night took a long time while my creative mind tried to think of more ways to say that I loved her.” She reaches for the envelope as her mouth opens. “Look at this!” Her eyes brighten. She plucks out some coloured shapes from inside. She holds one out to me, and it’s a heart with stars drawn all over it.
“That is so your mum.” I chuckle.
“God, I loved her.” Her voice wavers.
“You still do.” I pull her into my embrace.
“Yeah, I do,” she says into my chest as her arms wrap around me tightly.
“Was it worse than the time you tried to cut my hair and we used your mother’s good scissors?” I ask slowly, my fingers caressing along her spine.
She sniggers as I continue to draw. “Yes.”
We still haven’t moved from her bed, but her nerves about speaking to Felix have resurfaced.
“Worse than when you told that teacher to stop staring up girls’ skirts at school?”
“Oh my God, yes!”
“Or the time you stuck your finger up at that kid at the football game?”
“He was antagonising me, as my team was losing. I haven’t been back since.”
“Or the time you went to that bonfire and I found you in the back of that truck—”
She flinches and sits back. “Oh no.” She glares at me. “We do not talk about that night. I gave up my V-card, and it was the worst night ever. He was a fucking jack hammer.”
“You were determined to prove a point though.”
“I didn’t even know you were there!” She smacks my chest.
“I was near the portable toilets. I thought someone was strangling a feral possum.” I smile, leaning forward slightly, while tickling her chin as she glares at me.
“I thought you were asking me about my worst tattoo pain,” she accuses.
“Of course we were! You steered off course, as per usual.”
“Did not!”
“There’s my gi
rl.” I laugh.
“Not if you keep pissing me off!” She threatens as she wiggles out of my arms. “Damn it! Now, I’m going to speak to dad just to get you to stop embarrassing me! C’mon, Dad will be waiting.” By now, the earlier tears have dried up and have been replaced with eyes of mirth. Wicked Trinity has resurfaced.
We move from her room, and before I can grab her hand, her feet pick up speed as she blazes down the corridor towards the kitchen. Felix is standing by the hotplate cooking as Trin rushes up to hug him from behind.
“I’m so sorry Daddy-O,” she mumbles against his back. “I was being a shithead.”
Felix raises his arm for her to slide under as he continues to cook. “It’s fine, my little one. I think you’ve got too much going on in your head sometimes. Time to let all that negative energy go.”
“Yeah, you’re right. I think I’m going to start reading her letters …”
I stand back and watch them talking, marvelling at their bond. I’ve never known a parent to hug me like that. Sure, my grandmother had some fondness for me, but she was still slightly detached. When I’d first started visiting Trin, her mother, Harmony, would always give me warm hugs, even if my body responded like a 100-year-old corpse and refused to move. I’m sure she probably thought I was a freak for the first few years. I see a lot of warmth in Trin from her, and that makes me smile.
“So, have you two sorted that stuff out yet? Because if you haven’t, the bedroom is that way …” Felix’s voice breaks into my thoughts.
“DAD!” Trinity yells, stepping out from under his arm to shake a finger at him. “Far out, you’re embarrassing.”
“Thought my little girl didn’t get embarrassed,” he quips.
“Thought my dad wasn’t such a sex fiend,” she fires back.
“I wasn’t meaning sex. Just thought you could talk about it.” He gestures with his spatula at her. “Now I think you’ve ruined my appetite.”
“Good!” Trin huffs as she walks over to my side to nudge me with her hip. Hoisting a thumb in Felix’s direction, she scoffs, “Can you believe this guy?”
“He’s just looking out for his baby girl.” I run my finger down her cheek.
“Not a real couple, my arse,” Felix mumbles loudly from the stove.
“That’s enough out of you,” Trin scolds, as she tries but fails to hide a smile.
I pull her close to me and whisper in her hair, “Even he knew what our future was meant to be.”
She wraps her arm around me, and I kiss her forehead. “I have a feeling that so did Mum.” She sighs.
There’s no more hiding. This is us, and we are going to make this work, even if it is the last thing I do. TTE can wait just a little longer to be revealed, if Adam and Mila let me.
“Relationships aren’t all chocolates and daisies. It would be boring if they were.”
Love, Mum.
TRINITY
Three months later
“I still can’t believe I’m engaged,” Hazel gushes as the phone nestles between my ear and shoulder, while I scamper around the shop, tidying up. It is approaching the end of the day, and I need to sort things out so my weekend is mostly unfettered to spend with Theo. That is, until I see the girls. I’ve been coaxed into movies and wine. It is a mini celebration for our girl’s engagement, too. Initially, Trice wanted to do a yoga session to help me unwind. Apparently, I’d looked stressed the last time she’d seen me. I hadn’t been stressed—I’d been caught off-guard while Theo hid in my workroom with his pants around his ankles, and I had a throbbing clit. Since then, I had invested in a bell on the door that jingled when a customer came in, or when Theo had unexpectedly, dropped in too.
We struggle to keep our hands off each other. It was like a lid had been lifted and we had taken flight. Ironically, my laparoscopy procedure is scheduled in a fortnight. It is meant to help alleviate my symptoms and potentially help me to have a baby one day, despite my doctor saying my chances are low, but it also means no sex whatsoever for four weeks. Bedrest with no sex. What the fuck is this type of hell? My vagina is going to chuck a tantrum. On top of that, Hazel and Trice are going to sell rack-only dresses, not bridal, while I mope around upstairs, as I’m not allowed to work. Technically, recovery is meant to be a fortnight, but there is nothing that will keep me in bed for that long, unless it is Theo’s tongue. Dammit.
Tonight, it is going to be a girls’ night to catch up on all things girlie.
“You’re a lucky gal,” I coo, picking up scraps of material from my desk while using my foot to slide the cotton to the side to tidy up at closure. The amount of loose cotton that wisps along my floorboards is astonishing. I could vacuum twice a day and still find cotton.
“You know, I’ve waited for him since I was sixteen. If I wasn’t holding Gian in my arms, I’d think this was all a dream.” She sighs
“Not a dream, sweet cakes. But a pretty wicked reality.”
On cue, Gian’s gurgle sounds through the phone. “I bet he’s pretty excited too—he’s going to need a suit and Aunty Trin-ka-belle can make him into a little prince. Just for Mummy’s fairy-tale. He’ll rock a bow-tie too.”
“Aw, Trin. You’re going to make me cry. I’m even more sensitive these days, now that we have this little guy around. I freaking cried at a home loan commercial on TV the other day. All those happy families … the father swinging his child in the air … the dog running across the backyard …” She sniffs. “I broke down like a loon. It was the piano playing in the background.”
“Ugh,” I groan. “I hate that sentimental piano. I don’t cry at films, but Disney has it covered, always making my eyes leak. Bastards.” She sniffles again, so I quickly try to change the subject. “So, are you thinking about wedding stuff yet? We can go through some things tonight, if you like.”
“Bits and pieces. I have a few ideas written down, but I’d love it if you could make my dress for me? If you have time, that is. Obviously, I’d pay you and—”
“Hazel,” I cut in. “Of course, I’ll do it and any bridesmaids’ dresses too. Just let me know when it’ll be and, even if I have a dozen other orders booked in, I’ll give up sleep to make yours, okay?”
“Thanks, honey.”
“I’ll even use the best taffeta and make the shoulder pads touch the sky!” My voice pitches in excitement as I tease her. “But you need to have at least eighty buttons down the back. A girl mustn’t be too excited to give up her virtue.”
“That is so 80s.” Her husky voice laughs in my ear. “You’re an idiot,”
“I’ll make it raunchy underneath so Robbie can be rewarded for the mammoth button trail.” I run a finger down my leg. “I should do the opposite for Trice’s dress. Make it provocative, as I know Alex will freak, and give her nanna knickers to wear underneath.”
“Imagine!” Haze chuckles. “He’d go nuts!”
“He’d chase her down the aisle with a trench coat to cover her up!”
“She’d flip out.”
“Ten bucks says she’d knee him in the balls before trying to jump him for being so protective.”
“I won’t take that bet, as it’s a guaranteed win!” She shrieks, and Gian squeals in my ear. “Ouch! Gian just pulled my earring. See? Even Gian knows it’s highway robbery to bet against that.”
“Yikes. He’s not wrong.” I straighten my unused sketchpads from today and grab a spray bottle to use when wiping down the tables. “I better go, babe. See you tonight.”
The spray sprouts from the bottle and covers the table, and I grab the cloth from the other bench to wipe it.
“Absolutely. And when you have a chance, design something really raunchy. Let’s tease Trice and watch Alex’s face light up. Bye.”
“You evil, sweet woman. No wonder we’re friends. I’m going to smut it up, big time. Later alligator.”
She laughs and hangs up. I chuckle and decide on creating a few mock sketches on the tram later. All is fair in love and war, after all.
I slide my phone into the pocket of my cardigan and continue to wipe the tables down. Keeping an eye over my shoulder, I double-check for customers and then turn back to clean like a mad woman. I still have a few hours to go, but I want my workstations to look orderly, especially as patrons can see back here when they are at the counter. I chuckle and shake my head at these observations. Three months ago, I couldn’t have given a shit what someone thought, but since being with Theo, I now want to feel better, do better, and be better.
I toss the cloth on to the side bench and put the bottle into the cleaning bucket. I glance at the rack in the corner. A few half-finished garments hang there, and a swell of excitement whirls in my stomach. Last month, Hazel had decided to go back on stage, so after I measured her up, I began to tinker with a few ideas for her and the girls. Even Trice has stopped by, eager to get started. Whichever one I don’t end up using is going to become one of my display themed mannequins.
I’ve contemplated having a new theme of “rebirth” to capture the angst and tension of returning to the stage for the girls after Hazel’s ordeal. My themes since are a far cry from what they used to be. The edginess has gone. Far out. Even those mannequins have dulled down since Theo and I started properly dating. Some are even—dare I say?—romantic. Now, a punch-drunk-love vibe naturally appears on the mannequins. Tim Burton would be horrified. I’d like to think that my designs have the capabilities to feature in one of his blockbusters, if I turn up the crazy a notch. Maybe I could line the wrists of the mannequins in blue ribbons to replicate what Theo did to mine last night. Sigh. That presentation dinner for his work was a bit dull, but at least the tie he wore to it was put to good use afterwards on his bed. Even if it came out worse for wear. Poor tie. Rest in peace, buddy. That bed was not letting you go.
As I turn to the front, my phone chimes, and I reach into my pocket to get it, muttering, “I bet that’s Hazel with an actual idea for her dress, and she’s too impatient to tell me tonight.”
My stomach flutters when I see Theo’s name, and I can’t help but swipe along the screen to access my message as quickly as possible. Yep. I’m a sap.
