by Amanda Dick
“Okay, sweetie. G’night, sleep tight.”
“Night, Sassy.”
I set about putting her toys back into the basket under the window and straightening things up a little. Starting tonight, I was going to put more of an effort into doing everything, not just the things that were hard for me. I had to be part of this family, I had to be able to be relied upon to keep my word, get over some of this shit that was festering inside my head, dragging me down. I couldn’t afford the luxury of wallowing in self pity anymore, because it wasn’t just about me. As part of their family I had a role to play, and I wanted to keep my end of the bargain. I didn’t want them to coddle me. They already had one child, they didn’t need another one.
After the accident I’d tried desperately to pick up the threads of my old life and tie them back together into some kind of safety net. I failed, miserably. I went on a three-month bender, then crashed and burned in the worst possible way, a walking time-bomb exploding in ways that made me shudder now. The people I thought were my friends disappeared. Broken and lashing out in pain, I’d been abandoned like yesterday’s newspaper. The threadbare net failed, and I fell hard and fast. Sometimes it felt like I was still falling.
What followed was a seemingly bottomless funk that nearly ended me. I locked myself in my apartment and spent my waking hours staring at my mangled left arm, and at the tattoo on the inside of my right forearm that I couldn’t even remember getting.
Then Leo turned up, dragging me out of my fog and making me deal with my situation for the first time, and in a way that was healthy. The cloud lifted, therapy began to get through to me, and one day I noticed his discomfort at the sight of my bare arm. It made him cringe, if not physically, then certainly mentally. It was so obvious, I wondered how I’d managed to miss it before. I felt sick, but I didn’t blame him. For a musician, losing a hand is probably one of the worst things that can happen. It wasn’t just my nightmare, it was his too, and every time he looked at me I could see it in his face.
I made an effort to cover it. I began to wear my prosthesis again. It still felt awkward after not wearing it for so long, but if it made others more comfortable, I was determined to perservere. I learnt a few tricks that helped to disguise it, like keeping my sleeves long and wearing my watch on that arm. It was all part of moving on, I told myself.
Since then, not wearing my prosthesis became something of a guilty pleasure, like unbuttoning my jeans after a big meal. I had patchy sensation in my residual limb, thanks to muscle damage from the accident. Some areas were completely numb, others had normal sensation. It was odd, using my arm to steady something when I couldn’t feel it against my skin. Like most things, it took practice.
The nerves in my stump were still re-routing, and I couldn’t wiggle my fingers to increase the circulation, so cold weather was a pain in the ass. I found myself wearing thin cotton liner socks under my prosthesis to keep my arm warm.
The phantom pain that followed surgery, and lingered for months afterwards, had largely disappeared. Every now and then, I would get a stabbing sensation in my hand as my body tried to convince me that I had cramp in my fingers, even though my fingers, not to mention my hand, were long gone. Apart from that, I was almost free of it.
Phantom sensation was something else entirely – it messed with my head. In the early days after the accident, I thought I was going crazy. Now, a year later, I was more prepared for it. It manifested itself in several ways. Sometimes, I could lie in bed with my eyes closed and feel my fingers flying over piano keys or strumming strings. I’d lost count of how many times I’d gone to scratch an itch with my phantom left hand.
I could still tell my brain that I was clenching both my hands into fists, and it would comply, sending the necessary signals down both arms. My right hand formed a fist, while the damaged muscles and tendons in my left arm stirred beneath the skin. My brain didn’t seem to understand that the hand was gone, that the messages were fruitless.
In my eyes, that was another reason my brain was not to be trusted. I could feel a hand that was not there. I could watch a band play live and feel my sanity begin to disintegrate into tiny pieces. How could I begin to heal when I didn’t know what was real and what was fantasy?
I stared at the tattoo on the inside of my right forearm. It was inked in black, a dandelion head with seeds blowing away, transforming into tiny birds near my wrist, and I had absolutely no memory of getting it. It was after rehab, when I was trying to fool myself into thinking that life as I knew it wasn’t over. I wish I knew what the hell it meant. What was I trying to say – to myself, to the world? I was so screwed up then, not to mention permanently drunk, it was really anybody’s guess.
It was the only tattoo I had, and it served as a reminder. No more booze, no more hiding from the world. It was time to come in from the cold.
Chapter Fourteen
“Some of the most beautiful things that have happened to me in my
life have been things that I couldn't explain.”
– Alannis Morissette
Callum
“You know how late we’re running with that one?” Bill asked, stopping beside me on his way through to the office.
“It’s under control.”
I ignored him and continued working until he walked away. Christ, he was like a bear with a sore head lately. Nothing seemed to keep him happy. I wished he’d just bite the bullet and hire another mechanic. There was no way the two of us could deal with everything, especially when he was stuck in the office half the time doing paperwork. Once he’d disappeared back in there, I relaxed a little more, my mind wandering as I worked.
I’d steered clear of The Church on Saturday night. Whatever I’d said that made Sass disappear like that had made me gun-shy. I had no business pursuing any kind of relationship, especially not with her. She was clearly out of my league. Maybe that’s why I couldn’t stop thinking about her.
I should’ve just let it go, but the truth was, it bugged the hell out of me. For the first time in forever, I was willing to step outside of my comfort zone, but all I was getting for my trouble was a boatload of mixed signals. I thought we were chatting away happily, then she’d disappeared. It was just plain uncomfortable. I had no idea what was going on.
Sitting at Barney’s on Saturday night, knowing she was working just across town, made it worse. I sat there, watching everyone having a great time, feeling like a fish out of water. I spent the night drowning my sorrows.
“I’m going to get something to eat,” I said, downing tools and wiping my hands on my overalls.
I waited for Bill to stop me, but he didn’t.
“Don’t be long,” he grumbled.
Yeah, right. I headed out of the garage, eager for some fresh air and a break from Bill’s mood. I decided to walk the two blocks to the diner, rather than drive. The sun was shining, and I wanted to maximise my time away from Bill. No point rushing back.
The further I got from the garage, the better I felt. I slowed my pace, enjoying the sunshine from behind my dark glasses. Up ahead, I saw Sass walking towards me, with Leo’s little girl in tow. Before I could stop it, my heart leapt into my throat like a damn teenager.
Jesus. Get a grip!
The key was to act like it was no big deal, seeing her unexpectedly like this. The key was to tell myself that it was a small town, and running into someone in the street was normal. They key was not to read too much into it.
The key was not to make a fool of myself when I had no idea what was going on.
She was so intent on talking to her mini companion, she didn’t see me until I was nearly on top of them.
“Hi,” I said, summoning up a smile that I hoped looked more relaxed than it felt.
She smiled, a little hesitantly, but at least she made eye contact. Before she could speak, the little girl beat her to it.
“Hello,” she said, smiling up at me.
“Hi,” Sass said, pulling the little girl closer to her, her smile widening as h
er little charge cleverly broke the ice.
Her eyes crinkled in the corners when she smiled, and with the sun hitting them like that, they were beautiful. She was beautiful. Whatever had made her disappear the other night obviously wasn’t anything to do with me, if that smile was any indication. Some of the tension that had been squeezing my insides for the past two days loosened its grip. Maybe all was not lost after all.
“Who’s that?” the little girl asked her.
I tore my gaze away from Sass and looked down at her, all blonde curls and bright blue eyes. She and Sass couldn’t have been more different. She looked up at me with open curiosity and it completely disarmed me.
Sass bent down to kneel at her level.
“This is Callum,” she said, looking up at me.
Feeling a little awkward, I knelt down, too.
“What’s your name?” I asked, at a loss for what else to say.
The girl went all quiet, burying her head into Sass’s shoulder.
“This is Aria. She’s my neice.”
“And she’s my Sassy!” Aria said, turning to grin at me from her hiding place.
I chuckled, feeling much more at ease. She was cute, no two ways.
“Nice to meet you, Aria,” I said, offering her my hand formally.
She took one look at it, still covered in oil and grease, and screwed up her face.
“You’re all dirty!”
“Aria!”
I smiled, wiping my hand on my overalls.
“No, she’s right, I am. I’m just taking a quick lunch break, then its back to the grease pit. Where are you guys off to?”
“Park!” Aria cried, jumping up and down, her shyness suddenly forgotten.
“Yeah, she’s been bugging me to take her to the park all morning.”
“Well, it’s a good day for it.”
“Yeah, it is.”
Aria was giving me the once-over, taking in my filthy overalls.
“Your Mama gonna be mad,” she said seriously.
“You’re probably right,” I chuckled, winking at her. “Lucky my Mama doesn’t live with me anymore, or she would be.”
“No Mama?”
I struggled with how to explain the situation to a child.
“She lives in her own house, not too far away from here. I’m grown up now, so I live by myself.”
I winked at Sass, and she smiled.
“You miss her?” Aria asked, her face falling. “I miss my Mama when she not here.”
“Sometimes,” I said honestly. “But we talk on the phone, so that’s good.”
That reminded me. Mom had left me a voicemail message a couple of days ago. I really needed to call her back.
“Your Daddy too?”
One simple, direct question, yet it hit me right in the gut. Suddenly, a casual conversation turned into a minefield. How was I supposed to simplify that?
“My Dad and I don’t talk,” I said instead.
It was the best I could do on such short notice.
“I’m sorry,” Sass said quickly, clearly picking up on my raging discomfort at the direction the conversation had taken. “Kids huh?”
“Don’t worry about it,” I said, hoping to reassure both of them. “It’s a valid question.”
She stood up, and so did I.
“Well, I guess we better get to the park,” she said, a little sheepishly.
“Yeah, I guess so.”
I had the feeling she wanted to say something else, so I waited, but nothing was forthcoming. The tension mounted.
“Good to see you again,” I said, filling the conversational void.
She smiled, and I had this crazy impulse to forget about work and go to the park with them. But I didn’t. Bill had no idea how much he owed me.
“You too.”
“Bye!” Aria said brightly, dragging Sass away by the hand.
“Bye.”
They walked down the street together, hand in hand, as I stood there, rooted to the spot, watching them. Then Sass glanced back at me over her shoulder, and my heart soared. My unreasonable, unreliable, irrational heart.
Jesus, I was in real trouble.
Chapter Fifteen
“Music’s at its best when it has a purpose.”
– Eddie Vedder
Callum
After spending all day thinking about her, I decided to call into The Church that night and see if Sass was working. She wasn’t, and I tried to convince myself that I wasn’t disappointed when I saw Leo and his wife there instead.
“Hey,” Leo said, coming over to serve me. “It’s Callum, isn’t it?”
We’d chatted briefly on opening night. He and the band had finished their song, and Sass had disappeared. Soon after, he announced he was locking up. I introduced myself to him as I left, but he seemed preoccupied.
“That’s right.”
“You’re a friend of Jack’s?”
“Yeah. I’m surprised you remember, it was a crazy busy night.”
He huffed out a breath, shaking his head. “You’re not wrong. Still, if business keeps up like that, I’ll be a happy man. What can I get you?”
Despite that same quiet intensity behind his eyes, he seemed a bit more relaxed tonight. I could definitely see Aria in him. He had that same quietly calculating gaze. I wondered what he thought of me. I wondered what he’d heard.
“A beer, thanks.”
“Coming right up.”
I watched his wife, Gemma, as she effortlessly worked her end of the bar. She was at least a foot shorter than Leo, with a great figure. Pretty, too. She had the same hair as their daughter, a light honey-blonde, and half-way down her back.
Leo served up my beer and I settled at the bar. I could’ve grabbed a table, but I was curious. He seemed friendly, and with less people around tonight, there was a chance we could talk. He went off to serve someone else, then he came back to me.
“I really enjoyed the music on Friday night,” I said. “Especially your cameo at the end. You’ve got some serious talent, man.”
He took the compliment like someone who was used to getting them, but didn’t take them for granted, either.
“Thanks. Appreciate that.”
“You looked pretty comfortable up there. I was talking to your sister, and she mentioned that you used to be in a band. Anyone I might’ve heard of?”
A shadow passed over his face, just for a moment, but it happened so quickly, I convinced myself that I’d probably imagined it.
“Yeah, I was on the carousel for a while, doing the rounds. A bit of session stuff, a few bands. I just play for fun these days, though, when and where I can. I’ve got a family to support and a business to run.”
I understood. You can’t have it all. I took a sip of beer and tried to phrase my next question as casually as possible.
“So, is Sass not around tonight?”
“We’re kinda working on a roster system, taking shifts. One of us stays home with our daughter, the other two work here. She’s on again with me tomorrow night. That reminds me, have you met my wife, Gemma?”
“Not officially, no,” I said, as he summoned Gemma over.
He drew her close, draping an arm around her waist.
“Gemma, this is Callum. He’s Jack and Ally’s friend.”
She smiled and offered her hand.
“Hi, nice to meet you.”
“You too,” I said, shaking it. “How’s it going at the old homestead? You guys settling in okay?”
“We love it. It’s a great house, we were lucky to get it,” she smiled. “Especially on such short notice.”
There was something I liked about her. She was genuine, from her hair down to her smile.
“Well, I know for a fact that Jack and Ally are really happy you guys are looking after the place. Sounds like it was meant to be.”
“Maybe it was,” she said, smiling up at Leo as he pulled her closer.
Her attention was caught by a customer and she politely excu
sed herself, making her way along to the other end of the bar. Leo watched her for a moment, and I could tell from the look on his face that those two had something special. Once again, my first impression of him came back to me.
Lucky bastard.
Over the next couple of hours, between Leo serving customers, we continued to talk. The more we talked, the more I liked him. He was a nice guy. Intense, yeah, but he was interesting. He’d been all over. Sounded like he’d had a bit of a wild youth, and I guess we might’ve had that in common. But while I was shooting pool and hanging out with Jack after school, he was touring the country with a band, playing guitar, making music and living the dream. He said he gave it all up when he met Gemma. She must be some woman, if he gave up a lifestyle like that to settle down with her.
As the night wore on and the bar began to empty out, Gemma joined us. Watching the two of them together was interesting. They seemed so different. She was bubbly and outgoing, he was quiet with a dry sense of humour that really appealed to me. Before I knew it, it was closing time.
“Hey,” Gemma said, as I got up from the bar, ready to make my way home. “What are you doing Sunday night?”
“The usual, I guess. Not much,” I shrugged.
“Good. Come around for dinner,” she smiled. “It’s time we did something not related to the business. I was thinking of inviting Jack and Ally, too. Do you think that’d be too weird? I mean, I know they’re our landlords, but they seem really nice and we’d really like to thank them for everything they’ve done for us.”
“It’s not weird at all – I’m sure they’d love to come, and so would I.”
Especially if it gave me an excuse to see Sass.
“Great,” she smiled. “I’ll give them a call tomorrow. Shall we say five o’clock?”
“Sounds perfect, see you then.”
It might’ve been the beer, but as I walked out of the bar, I swore I felt lighter.
Chapter Sixteen
“The world is a heart-breaking place, without any question.”
