by H P Tune
Mia narrowed her eyebrows. “I don’t get what you mean.” She squeezed Juliet’s hand.
“Well, I don’t really know what I want, down the track. I never used to want…Well, I didn’t really want kids for a long time, and I know, I really know, how important that is to you. And it should be, it really should be, after everything. I shouldn’t be the one to stop you from having kids.”
To Mia’s credit, she seemed to absorb Juliet’s words calmly and carefully considered them before responding. “Is that what you’re worried about? That I’ll want kids and you won’t?”
Shrugging, Juliet finally nodded. “Do you?”
“Want children?”
“Yeah.” Juliet felt Mia shudder a little. Maybe it was something she just perceived, but it felt like Mia’s heartbeat began to race.
“Maybe,” Mia said. “Probably.” She glanced up to the ceiling. “Life doesn’t always give you what you want, though, and that doesn’t necessarily mean it’s a bad outcome.”
“What if I end up not wanting a family?”
“Why do you worry so much about what ifs? I had my life figured out, planned and sorted, like tick boxes. But here I am, a world away from where I started.”
“Mmm, guess I like to have it all sorted, different contingencies figured out.” But as she heard herself say it aloud, it hit her: how could she possibly cover every different scenario? She couldn’t.
But Juliet didn’t have to. She ran instead.
Mia slowly drew wide eyes to Juliet. “You’re a control freak…with yourself.”
Juliet stared back at her. Of all the things she had been called or labelled in her life, a control freak was not one of them—the opposite, in fact. People usually called her a free spirit, occasionally brave and adventurous. Mia had just seen through all the layers, and no one ever had, not once.
“I think the thing is, Juliet, that shit in life will always hurt, no matter what. And as much as you try to protect yourself, all that effort that goes into controlling what comes your way and avoiding it won’t work.”
Juliet slowly nodded; she didn’t trust her voice.
“So, kids? Yeah, sure, but I’ve given up on having something abstract become more important than what is in front of me.”
Clearing her throat, Juliet looked to the wall and back to Mia. “I’m not anti-babies. I’m just not sure.”
“And in a few years, that might be an important discussion. But who knows what else might be important then too? Unless you’ve been carrying around a crystal ball in your backpack, we don’t know.” She tested a small smile. “With your passport, that is.”
Tears burned her eyes, and Juliet blinked hastily at them. “I’m just,” she paused, taking a slow breath. “so sorry. It seems ridiculous right now, but I know it was me and what I was doing…”
“I haven’t been pushing you, have I?” Mia asked suddenly, but she earned a shake of the head in response.
“Nope. No.”
Mia released an audible sigh of relief. “Good, because yeah, not what I want to do.”
Juliet smiled and sunk a little lower under the covers, edging closer to Mia’s side.
“And I really don’t, okay, Jules? I don’t want to push you, yet there is a tiny but in that. I guess I need to know what you want to do, because I can’t be stressed all the time that you’re going to disappear. That’s something that I can’t do, yeah? I’m just, when it comes to that, I’m just not strong enough to live with that…with wondering constantly.”
“Yeah,” Juliet said, drawing her face up when Mia interrupted.
“Because that’s worse, having that in the back of my mind. That’s harder than actually having you go.”
Despite the calm demeanour Mia had been exhibiting, her voice trembled. It wasn’t quite an ultimatum, but it felt close; a blatantly necessary question that had to be asked. There was no negotiation around that; Mia couldn’t keep up her patience, because the uncertainty and the constant fear was something she said clearly that she couldn’t live with. And it was okay that she asked; a moment of growth for Mia too, as she was recognising that she was important as well.
Juliet opened her mouth and made a few sounds, just half formed words and stilted syllables; she couldn’t get her words out. Juliet lifted back the covers and silently slipped from the bed. Her bare feet met the floor, and she walked away slowly, without glancing back at Mia.
When she returned, less than a few minutes later, Mia was curled on her side crying. She had shifted down the bed and her head had slipped off the pillows, knees drawn up under the duvet. With one hand pressed to her face, she collected the wet tears while her other arm stretched out into the space that Juliet had silently left.
“Mia,” Juliet whispered, climbing onto the bed and hastily tangling into the sheets rather than easily sliding under them. “Mia,” she repeated, leaning in close and kissing Mia’s forehead, “I just wanted to get something for you. I’m sorry.” Her voice was shaky too, nervous and heightened with emotion.
It took a few additional shudders and quiet strangled sobs before Mia dropped the hand from her face. She kept her eyes squeezed shut for a moment, sucking on her bottom lip before exposing her glazed eyes and wet cheeks.
“I’m…” Juliet said slowly, pausing, “How did you put it? In. I’m in.”
Mia gave her a nearly blank expression. “But I want you to trust me…and that, well, I’ve got some work to do on that. Right?”
Mia shrugged. “Mmmm.” She acknowledged that with a sniffle.
“I want you to keep my passport, just as…what, security maybe? I don’t know. Because I want you to know that I’m serious, and maybe I don’t want an easy out either.”
“No Juliet, no. I can’t keep your passport, I won’t. I get the offer, and I appreciate it, but I won’t do that. That’s what crazy, violent people do. I won’t take away your right to leave.”
Juliet considered for a moment, then crawled up to her knees and leant over Mia. She pulled the drawer out on her bedside table and threw her passport in, feeling Mia’s hand wrap around her hip as she held her weight over Mia’s chest. Awkwardly moving back, she fell next to her. “We both know where it is this way,” Juliet said. “Is that okay?”
“Yeah, that’s okay.” Lifting her arm up, Mia silently encouraged Juliet to lie against her. She waited for Juliet to wrap an arm around her middle and to share her pillow before dropping her hand to splay on Juliet’s back.
“Ummmm,” she drew out slowly.
“Ummmm,” Juliet confirmed.
They both laughed quietly. “You’re doing okay with all this?” Mia asked.
“I am,” Juliet replied, with a hint of conviction and honesty. “It’s tough to change something that has taken forever to develop, as dysfunctional as it might be. But you’re not like everyone else, and maybe I can be someone…hmmm, maybe I can be the person I want to be, with you, rather than the person I’ve had to be.”
Mia nodded silently and Juliet kissed her cheek chastely, dried tear tracks still apparent.
“Are you okay?” Juliet asked.
Though barely a smile moved her lips, Mia murmured, “Yeah, I think so.”
“You can tell me if you’re not or if you need to be upset or angry with me some more, I deserve that.”
“I’m not sure we should mess with this very mature conversation—no one has yelled or thrown anything.”
Juliet could tell that Mia was only minimally joking. Still, Juliet’s grip tightened a little around her side. “You’re pretty hard to be mad at.”
“I’m not sure that’s a good or a bad thing.”
“Good, I think; you’re just trying to find your way, that’s not something I should get frustrated at.”
“Even when it affects you?”
“Mmmm, I guess. The more I understand, the easier it is, and that negative stuff that I feel, goes away.”
Juliet didn’t quite understand, but Mia continued. “You told
me about your dad, Juliet, and it helped things make sense. I want to know you. I want to know more about what you’ve been though. It’s like I’ve told you everything about me but I barely know your past.”
“Some of it isn’t that exciting,” Juliet said. “And some of it…Well, I haven’t been angelic or the victim in everything. I’ve made plenty of mistakes.”
“Haven’t we all?” Mia asked, and Juliet had to agree. She always felt like less than others, that she was less moral, less intelligent; just less. “I’m not going to judge, you know. But I want to know, because I want to know you, everything about you. I want to be your go-to person.”
“You are my person,” Juliet said. “Who did I call when it all turned to shit in Belgium? And I want to tell you…everything, if you want. I’m just not great at doing that, at knowing what you want to know or are interested in. Sometimes things seem unimportant in my head, like I would be making you listen to something boring.”
“Oh God, no, no way. Honey, I hang on every word you say. And when it’s about you and your life, what you’ve seen—I’m like a dog, lapping it up.”
Juliet laughed. It did seem a little incredulous to her that Mia could be interested in these things. She could still see the glazed look in her father’s eyes when she won a state writing award at age eleven and the way her mother brushed over it and dropped her off at the ceremony on the way to her brother’s baseball game. Or when she told them of the college she had been accepted into and they breathed that obviously disappointed sigh before murmuring a brief string of empty congratulations. She had a whole lifetime of baggage.
“What do you wanna know, then?” she asked. She was always better at answering questions than starting conversations.
Mia shrugged and moved her hand slowly to trace up and down her spine. “Whatever you like.”
Juliet squirmed, pressing her face into Mia’s shoulder before settling back on her pillow. She snaked her fingertips under Mia’s top until her palm was flat against the warm skin of her abdomen; the contact relaxed her. She stilled for a minute, just quietly thinking and breathing evenly, and Mia didn’t press at all, content in the silence. Eventually, Juliet withdrew her hand and held it up in front of Mia. She made a fist and jiggled her wrist, beaded bracelet moving loosely. “I got this when I was in Asia doing my retreat thing. I had just had a crazy, messy breakup and it was all awful and then I got news that Ben was being sent to Afghanistan. So I bought this, and by ‘bought’ I mean paid all of about twenty cents or something, and I sent it to Ben because I couldn’t get back before he left.” Pausing, Juliet puffed her cheeks before continuing. “He was wearing it when he was brought back, so I took it off and kept it. Now I wear it all the time. I never take it off. It’s knotted on; I’d probably have to cut it to get it off. Guess it’ll fall off one day.”
“What was he like—Ben?” Mia asked.
Hours later, they were still sharing sibling stories, exchanging their diversely different childhoods—where Juliet and Ben had built swings off tree branches and made go-karts out of old car parts, where Mia and Daniela had swapped party dresses and snuck coloured hair ties under their ribbons.
Then, somewhere, not long before the sun would start edging up behind the mountain ranges, they let themselves sleep in peace.
CHAPTER 21
With her fingers at a standstill after having been flying over the keyboard, Juliet gave an audible cheer and sat back, arms crossed at her chest. She had spent multiple weeks in a rush of motivation and writing energy, culminating in a very rough ending to her book. Rough or not, the shell was completed from beginning to end. Now she had weeks, months maybe, ahead of her of editing, rewriting scenes and restructuring chapters, which was almost as difficult as writing the initial version. She would spend the time second-guessing herself and changing miniscule details. She could toy with the notion of a simple adjective change for hours.
Still, she felt a sense of achievement. Six months ago, she had been giving up and strategizing ways to refund her advance.
Things had certainly changed.
She clicked save and then went about ensuring her USB stick and external hard drive backups were up to date. No way in hell was she losing it now.
With a satisfied smile, Juliet rolled her shoulders and stood up, leather office chair wheeling back behind her. She leant over the desk and shut down her laptop, bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet. The sense of relief was like nothing she had ever felt before, likes bricks being thrown off her shoulders.
Juliet was good, now that she and Mia had slowed down. They were gradually building up their relationship, as weird as it was to do that, given everything they had already shared.
At times, they took it as far as Juliet sleeping in the guest room, particularly on the nights where she was up writing until the early hours of the morning. There was something enjoyable about the affectionate cuddles though, and the long, drawn out kissing sessions, with hands that roamed on their own accord. It meant they were building up to something important, rather than jumping right in at the end.
With a small, uncoordinated jump, Juliet stumbled over some papers on the floor and walked out of the office, poking her head down the hall to see if Mia was in her room before heading to the living room. Mia was sitting on the sofa, iPad on her lap as she squinted in concentration at the screen. She looked up, smiling at the interruption. “Hi,” she said.
Juliet grinned, placing both hands on Mia’s sides as she leant in and kissed her enthusiastically, tongue sneaking playfully over Mia’s lip. She smiled into the kiss before pulling back, turning and collapsing dramatically onto the cushions, legs falling over Mia’s lap and knocking the iPad to the side. “Whoops,” she said, “but hi!”
“You’re in a good mood,” Mia observed, leaning her head back and placing her hands over Juliet’s legs. She massaged the muscles loosely through casual sweats.
“I am. The first draft is done.”
“Seriously?”
“Yep, now is the really fun bit. I get to ignore it for at least a week and then start again with fresh eyes.” Juliet fell backwards, hands behind her head, wiggling her toes for Mia to continue. “We should do something to celebrate, go away for a few days or something. Up for it?”
“Am I up for it?” Mia asked, jokingly. “Do you even have to ask? Of course!”
“Good, I’ll organise something, maybe a spa retreat or something, we can get pampered. Good idea?”
Mia nodded eagerly. “Excellent idea.”
“So what were you concentrating on? I completely interrupted you.”
Rolling her eyes, Mia stilled her hands and smiled. “I was doing some research into med schools here. Crazy, huh?”
“Oh, the thought hasn’t gone away then? You’re really thinking seriously about it?” Juliet asked, eyes wide.
“I think I am. It’s not like I can go on doing nothing for the rest of my life. And it’s what I was good at and interested in, so why not?”
“I’m all for it. If it’s what you want to do, than I think you should go for it. I’ll happily be your patient to practise on too.”
Mia laughed. “You might regret that when I’ve taken your blood pressure and listened to your heart for the hundredth time.”
“I just draw the line at having you put those things in my arm, a line.”
“A cannula? Yeah, that’s probably fair enough. I promise not to give you needles then.” Mia pointed her index finger and jabbed at Juliet’s arm until she earned a playful swipe and a childish giggle. Amazingly, being happy wasn’t so scary. “It’s different here, though,” Mia continued, chewing at her bottom lip. “It’s a five-year degree, because they don’t really do pre-med, and I don’t think I would get any or much credit for what I’ve already done. Maybe.”
“Wow? Five years. After what you’ve already done, that’s huge.”
“I know. It would be four years back home, so it’s just an extra year; but there’s oth
er stuff to consider right? I mean, your visa is one hurdle. That’s even if you’re keen to stay here, for this to be home.”
Juliet nodded and shrugged. Home wasn’t a big concept for her, and hadn’t been for a long time. Her attachment to places had historically been even worse than her attachment to people. Which even she had to acknowledge was saying a bit.
“I can write wherever if I get another publishing deal,” she said. “So that would come down to where you prefer. To be honest, I’m not really desperate to settle back in the States, but if you wanted to go back to Harvard, than I would. And,” she added sheepishly, “I’ve been kind of toying with the idea of trying to get into some teaching, even at a community college or uni here, running some writing classes.”
“You haven’t mentioned that.” Mia said with a wide smile. “But I like it. Sounds fantastic, actually. You would make a great teacher.”
“There is the visa issue…”
“Mmm, not something I know anything about, really. I do know a migration agent; or I did. I could get her contact details if you want.”
“A normal job seems pretty appealing right now.”
“Doing something is appealing to me. I think I’ve reached my limit of relaxing. I need a plan.”
“A plan? Five years at med school is a bit more than a plan!” Juliet said with a chuckle. The idea of going back to grad school or to do her doctorate sent Juliet into a state of panic. She had survived college on the barest of incomes, trying to balance work and study while still keeping her grades up.
Mia’s hands stilled where they worked on Juliet’s feet, and she screwed her nose up. “Am I being crazy? To think of going back now? There’s school and then my intern year, then residency. I’ll be geriatric before I even get completely through.”
Struggling to sit up with her legs outstretched over Mia’s lap, Juliet cupped her cheek and stared into her eyes. “Screw it. Screw the long-term plan or how long it might take. If it’s what you want to do, I think you should do it.” She earned a slow, hesitant nod from Mia and a slight smile. “You know, when you talk about that kind of stuff—medicine, you get all…smiley.”
