Laura's Light

by Donna Gallagher

  It was sadly ironic that after years of censoring her life, making sure her actions did nothing to embarrass or negatively impact on her son, Laura had achieved that misery in one night.

  Chapter Ten

  He still did not know how it had all gone to hell so quickly. One minute he was gazing lovingly into Laura’s iceberg-blue eyes, recovering from the single most awe-inspiring moment of his life. The next, he was in his car, driving back to his empty house. A house he had left with Laura only hours ago. And his bed would still smell of sex and Laura.

  Trevor was so shaken up that he hadn’t even had time for the blackness to take hold. But he was expecting it anytime now. As per usual, he had fucked up. He tried to recall what he had said that had sent Laura running. He’d been trying to explain his problems, his depression, but somehow the words had come out all wrong. He hadn’t wanted her to go—he’d just been trying to warn her that eventually he would disappoint her. He had hoped that she would be strong enough, loving enough to work through the dark times with him. But he had been so wrong.

  Laura had sprung from the bed as if she had been bitten.

  She’d looked so panicked, obviously embarrassed that he had put his heart on the line when he had admitted that he felt for her like he had for no other. He must not have heard her correctly, because the only reason he’d opened up about his feelings had been in response to her claim that she felt a connection. But her gratitude that he had awoken her sex drive must have been just that—a ‘thanks for the fuck’.

  Anger simmered underneath his skin. How could he have been such an idiot, such a spineless, gullible fool? It had been a ridiculous notion that he was good enough for someone like Laura Harris. Trevor’s dark side put him way out of her league.

  Better yet, Trevor still had the disconcerting knowledge he would have to face Rookie Harris—both professionally and more than likely socially—on a regular basis, which would remind him of his mistakes, his loss. What a clusterfuck.

  “Way to go. This time you have outdone yourself,” he berated his reflection in the rear-view mirror of his car as he pulled into the driveway of his home—his cave, the place he hid from the world when the world felt too big, too hard to navigate. The place that had been filled with Laura just a few hours ago, but was now empty.

  “Remember your pills. You really can’t afford to lose it now. There is too much to do,” he reminded himself as he dragged his body from his car. He wondered why his life had to be so difficult—he was always on the edge of despair, the precipice of doom.

  “Well, at least I should be thankful this happened so quickly. Surely I can’t have become that invested in her so quickly? My God, it was only one night, one fucking mind-blowing, passion-filled night.” He dragged his fingers through his already mussed hair.

  “C’mon, Trev, this isn’t helping yourself, mate,” he mumbled as he stumbled through the doorway, then closed the door, shutting the world out behind him. “Tough it out… Medicate and shower.” Trevor spoke the words aloud, the emptiness of his house echoing the hollow sound of his voice back at him. “Change the sheets, get rid of every reminder of her.”

  He needed to wash the scent of Laura from his skin, as well. He could still smell her essence on him, and until that had been removed there was no way he could move forward.

  Before he could put any of his plans in action, or even move, he was interrupted by the ringing of his phone.

  Last thing I feel like doing is speaking to anyone, he thought, but really couldn’t ignore the call. It might be about work, about his weekly sports show. Work was something he could focus on to keep his brain from thinking about Laura. So Trevor moved towards the intrusive, noisy device.

  “Hughes,” he grunted into the mouthpiece. And, as if by some divining stroke of luck, the voice on the other end of the phone belonged to Brodie James, Trevor’s own personal guardian angel. How Brodie always seem to ring at the most important times in Trevor’s life, Trevor had no clue, but that voice on the line, that familiar sound, connected to his spirit.

  “Hey, Trev, it’s Brodie. Glad I caught you. Was wondering if you feel like a gym session? A little birdie just told me that some of my Jets boys have been and gone. I know I’m just the assistant coach, but I feel like if I don’t keep in some sort of shape the boys will get the better of me, and I haven’t hit the gym in weeks.”

  “Brodes, don’t know if I’m up for it, mate.” Trevor’s voice sounded flat and even though he tried to keep the darkness from his voice, he just knew Brodie would pick up on it straight away, so he tried to lighten his tone with some humour.

  “The missus given you a leave pass or something? Where is your partner in crime? Wouldn’t JT normally jump at the chance to show off his brawn at the gym?” Trevor added, trying to sound better than he felt. But Brodie had already picked up on his mood.

  “Trev, you sound a bit flat. Everything okay, buddy? I thought you would be in a better frame of mind after your speedy exit from Mia’s last night. Did it not go well? You and Laura, I mean.”

  “Huh, what is it with you, Brodie? Always so touchy-feely, and fretting all the time. Butting into everyone’s business.” Trevor’s tone was sharp, but he couldn’t help the bitterness aimed at his friend. He didn’t really mean the words he had spoken.

  “Wow, man, I didn’t mean to upset you. I think a gym session is just what you need. I’m coming over and I’m not taking no for an answer. And just to clarify your disparaging remarks over my needing a leave pass from my wife, yep, you’re spot on. Apparently I’m getting on her nerves, being underfoot all the time. She and Mandy are going shopping. JT is hitting the gym as well. We just thought maybe you’d like a session. And it is clear you need one.” Brodie’s dark chuckle filtered down the line. No matter what Trevor said, no matter how rudely he spoke, Brodie always managed to ignore it, managed to find some humour to lighten the mood.

  “Sorry, mate, didn’t mean to bite your head off. Yeah, you’re probably right. No point sitting here feeling sorry for myself. Maybe a few rounds of boxing with the big fella might knock some sense into me. Appreciate the invite. I’ll be ready when you get here.”

  “Goodo! And Trev, whatever it is that has you down, it’ll pass. You’ve got support—you know that, right?”

  After hanging up, Trevor felt slightly more with it. Brodie was right—no point dwelling on stuff that had happened. It was better to concentrate on the good things in his life. His mates, his job, the rugby league community—especially his old club, the Jets—those things were his lifelines. He could count on Brodie to have his back and not judge. Trevor needed his mate, and with Brodie’s help he would not fall into that dark abyss that was always a lingering presence in his life.

  Chapter Eleven

  “Hey, Ma, you home? Is it safe to come in? You’re not doing anything that might scar my young, impressionable mind, are you?”

  Laura was sitting at the kitchen table when she heard her son come home, and she tried not to overact at his light-hearted jest. God, she was a mess. She needed to pull herself together for the sake of her son.

  “Yeah, funny, Mitchell. I’m here in the kitchen, and yes, fully clothed and acting like a respectable mother should.”

  “Good to know, Mum.” Mitchell said as he entered the room and made a beeline for the refrigerator, dropping his gear bag on the floor next to the table. “So I don’t suppose this respectable mother has been cooking? You know, made something to eat for her starving son?”

  When her son entered their home, his first mission was always about food. Laura smiled at the thought, reminiscing over all the home-baked cookies and milk the two had shared over the years at this very table. But suddenly Laura felt a tiredness, an all-consuming weariness that seeped to the centre of her being.

  “Mitchell, don’t leave your gym bag there—put your dirty clothes in the washing basket. How many times do I have to tell you? You’re an adult. I shouldn’t even be doing your washing anymore.”r />
  “Sorry, Mum. I was on my way to the laundry. But you know how the fridge always calls to me,” Mitchell said. Laura watched as her son closed the refrigerator door. He walked over and picked up his discarded bag, pulling a face as he opened the zipper. “My stuff reeks—what about I put this load on straight away, save your delicate nose from my sweaty stench?”

  Mitchell’s apology and thoughtfulness shook Laura from her bitter mood. She had spoken harshly and it wasn’t her son’s fault she was feeling low. She shouldn’t take it out on him. Shaking herself from her gloom, she stood and headed towards the fridge. She would make Mitchell some lunch to make up for her grumpiness.

  “Thanks, son. That sounds good. You start the washer and I’ll throw something together for you. Wouldn’t want you passing out from starvation, would we?”

  Laura stared into her full refrigerator, trying to find some inspiration as to what to feed her son. She could hear him moving around the laundry room, then the water coming on to fill the washer. “Just a spoonful of the washing powder, Mitchell—it’s concentrated.” She shouted out the instructions as she began pulling foodstuffs from the fridge. “What about some grilled cheese, ham and tomato? How does that sound?” She didn’t wait for Mitchell’s response—she knew him well enough to know he loved her toasties.

  “Awesome, Mum. Sounds great. Did Trev leave?” Mitchell’s voice was closer—he had obviously returned to the kitchen. Laura was pleased her back was to him as she prepared the food, so she didn’t have to mask her pain.

  “He had things to do.” Her response was clipped. Laura was not sure she could have said any more without giving away her distress.

  “Well, I gotta tell you, Mum, the Jets gossipmongers have been out in full force—got ribbed by all the guys this morning about you and Trev having dinner at Mia’s. Gosh, you can’t sneeze these days without someone knowin’ about it. Anyway, the guys were giving me shit about how now that my mum and Trevor had hooked up I’d be getting heaps of good press. They were sayin’ stuff like I wouldn’t even have to play all that good and my new daddy would edit the footage to make me look like a star. Pfft! As if I need any help to be a star—I’m a natural.”

  Laura was only just holding it together. Mitchell was confirming her worst fears. She had been gossiped about—his teammates all knew that she had been out with Trevor. The clichéd desperate older woman chasing a younger man—what did they call it, a pity fuck? And now that it was all over, they would also know that he had rejected her. More gossip. More gossip about Mitchell’s single mother.

  She was filled with shame, so caught up in her own thoughts that she not only hadn’t picked Mitchell up on his swearing, but hadn’t noticed she was burning the food.

  “Mum… Mum. Are you okay? Umm, I think something is burning.” Laura felt Mitchell push past her, watched as he removed the tray from under the heat. She blanched as she realised that he had probably burnt his hands on the hot tray because she was wearing the oven mitt.

  “Ouch… Ouch… That’s hot.”

  Laura turned the cold water tap on and grabbed her son’s hands, pulling them under the water to ease the pain of his burns. They didn’t seem to be bad, but she had to do something. Hopefully the water will work better on his pain than the shower worked on mine, she thought sadly. A sob escaped her mouth before she managed to get herself back under control.

  “Mum, it’s okay. I’m not burnt, the tray was just a bit hot. Don’t cry.” Mitchell’s voice was full of concern as he stood looking down at her. Mitchell had grown taller than Laura at the age of thirteen. Her son, her beautiful boy. Her life. And she had just done something so stupid… She was an old fool.

  “Mum, look at me. What is wrong? You’re scaring me, Mum. Have I done something, have I upset you? Something has been wrong from the minute I got home. Tell me, Mum. Maybe I can help or fix whatever it is I’ve done to cause this.”

  “Oh, baby, you have done nothing wrong, sweetheart. It’s me—I’m the one. I’ve been such a silly old woman. Shameful. I should never have let Trevor Hughes… Anyway, it’s over now. Trevor has gone. Hopefully the gossip will fade. I’m sorry for embarrassing you, Mitchell. I didn’t think. It wasn’t my intention. I’ve been alone for so long…haven’t dated for so long… I just didn’t understand.”

  It was reprehensible that she stood crying in her son’s arms, but she couldn’t stop. What sort of mother was she, leaning on her own son this way? But she couldn’t stop.

  “Oh, Ma! I’m so sorry, Ma. I don’t give a fuck about gossip, Mum. And neither should you. Fuck Trevor Hughes—he wasn’t good enough for you anyway. Scumbag. You’re not alone, Mum. I’m here, always will be. The Dynamic Duo, you and me.”

  “Watch your language, young man. I may be a snivelling mess but I’m still your mother and you will not use those words in my home.” Laura gave the admonishment lightly—she even managed an awkward smile as she let her son console her, let him hold her as she had held him so many times through his childhood. “You’re a good boy, Mitchell. I love you, son. Please don’t hold any animosity towards Trevor.” Just saying his name made Laura’s voice quiver. “He made me no promises. It was what it was—a one-night stand. It was me who misunderstood. I’m being silly and dramatic. Your mother had sex.”

  “Too much information, Mother.”

  “Well, you can rest assured that I’m unlikely to ever bother again, if that helps?” Laura’s sad chuckle was muffled against the warmth of her son’s chest. And with the realisation that it was a warm and rather pungent chest, Laura found that her distress was fading. She felt calmer. Soothed.

  “So you didn’t shower at the gym, then, Mitchell?” she said as she pulled herself from her son’s embrace. Stood on her own two feet. Regained her composure. “You stink, son. Go shower and I will redo these toasties. This time I’ll try not to burn them.” She spun him towards the kitchen doorway and playfully swatted her six-foot-tall, muscular son’s backside. “Just make it a quick shower, or your food will get cold and soggy.”

  “Mum. I love you. You’re the best mother anyone could have. Don’t for a second think I don’t understand what you have sacrificed for me, given up for me. I know, I do.”

  “Mitchell, stop. Otherwise I’ll be crying again and honestly, I’m all cried out. Darling, I gave nothing up because of you. What I did or didn’t do was my own choice. You are the best thing in my life, my greatest achievement. There was never anything more important to me than you. Never will be. No matter who may or may not come into my life, you will always be my priority, always be my baby. So scoot—you are stinking up my kitchen.”

  Laura watched, full of emotion, as her son left the room. She could still feel the warmth lingering from the kiss he delivered to her cheek. He was her sunshine. Her life was good. She would be fine. And much to her surprise, she found herself humming as she set to work making something more edible than the blackened tray of food she left sitting in her sink.

  Chapter Twelve

  “Well, boys, gotta say that this is a sorry sight. Once the scourge of opposition forwards across the globe, and now here we sit, drinking juice from a bloody yuppie juice bar at the gym. What’s next—sipping caramel lattes with the womenfolk?”

  JT’s gruff mocking tones had Trevor chuckling under his breath. Just the thought of the monster that was JT sitting around sipping fancy coffee was a sight he’d pay to see, and filming it would be even better.

  “Skinny lattes, mate,” Brodie added, laughing. “Honestly, think we’re getting old, big guy. I’m exhausted—my body aches and it wasn’t half the session we’d have been doing if we were still playing. At least we won’t have to do the bloody Kurnell sand hills anymore. Pre-season training’s the pits.”

  “Boys, come now, you’ve only been retired for a minute. Just wait till you have to sit through a game…just watching. Then you’ll feel the pain of old age. You’ll both be dinosaurs before you know it,” Trevor added, feeling better than he’d thought
he would, enjoying the laughter his comments caused from the men sitting with him. True mates.

  “Dinosaurs. Huh. Just like we thought about the older blokes way back when we started out, hey, mate. Karma, Mandy would call it.”

  “God, JT, what has happened to you? Mandy is turning you into a metro—all this yuppie and karma shit. The JT I knew wouldn’t have known what those words were, let alone used them in conversation.”

  “Fuck you too, Brodes.”

  Trevor laughed at the two-fingered salute JT gave Brodie.

  “Good to hear you laughing, Trev. Wanna tell me what had you all in a spin earlier?”

  “Here we go, touchy-feely Brodie comes a-calling.” Trevor grinned as he used the same words that he had uttered in anger a short while ago.

  “You might as well spill, mate,” JT butted in. “Brodes is like an old woman when he gets a bee in his bonnet over something.”

  “It’s not much really…just… I blew it with Laura Harris this morning. Everything was going great and then I had to open my big mouth—you know, mentioned how I would probably stuff up and disappoint her, said she probably shouldn’t count on me. And the next thing I knew, she’d booted me to the kerb. I was just trying to look out for her, you know?”