by Jade West
“Fuck.”
“Yeah. Of course Carl did whatever the asshole wanted. He was a teenage lad hoping someone actually gave a shit, you know? Thought he could be something to somebody, finally. Makes me so fucking angry.”
“What happened?”
Rick tipped his head back, squinted at the sun. “A carer found one of the parcels hidden behind a skirting board by Carl’s bunk. Along came the police, social workers, a million questions. Bye bye, Dad.”
“His dad went to prison?” My heart was in my throat.
“Part of a bigger investigation, I think. Yeah, he went down for it, good fucking riddance. Carl ate himself up with guilt, sent letters, never heard back. Not a fucking thing. Never has. I mean what kind of cunt even does that to their own kid? Sets them up and then just fucking bails? Doesn’t even fucking reply?” Rick shook his head. “Poor kid went off the rails. Started vandalising shit, fighting, stealing. He says it was like he was filled with this… tar, all black and thick, just this… rottenness. Says he felt like he was worth nothing, didn’t deserve anything, didn’t even want anything. Ended up in juvenile detention, then back in care. A problem kid.” He paused, picked at the woodchips. “It’s not really my place to tell you this shit, but I think you should know. So you understand.”
My eyes felt sore and full of tears. Too much, all at once. Jack’s yard, and baby talk, and Carl. Mainly Carl.
“Shit,” Rick said. “I know this is fucked up, I know it’s sad, believe me, it breaks my fucking heart, but please, whatever you do, please don’t look at him like that.”
“Like what?” I asked, and my voice was crackly.
“Like you’re looking at me, now. Like you pity him, like you feel sorry for him. He’d hate it. It’s the last thing he wants, that isn’t who he is.”
“But I do,” I said. “Feel sorry for him, I mean. I don’t pity him, he’s not the kind of guy you could pity.” I looked away. “He seems so strong, so grounded, so… together.”
“He is. He’s all those things. He’s the best man I know. The strongest man I know.”
The lump in my throat threatened to choke me. “How did he… how could he… who even comes back from something like that?”
“A guy like Carl does.” Rick smiled. “Don’t ask me how, but he did. Pulled his shit together, made a better life for himself. Carl’s steely and determined, serious… motivated. You’ve probably noticed,” he laughed, “He can seem… unapproachable. But that’s just the grit he uses to push himself forward, and underneath that, despite everything, all the shit he’s been through, all the times he’s been let down and fucked over, despite all that, he’s loyal, and kind, and generous. He wants the best for people, he gives his best for people, always his best.” He paused, looked right at me. “He credits your dad for a lot of that.”
My belly panged. “I’m sure my father can’t take the credit for much of that.”
“Maybe. Maybe not.” He looked at me. “I always speak as I find, and I’ve always found your dad to be a top guy. No bullshit, no games. Sees the best in people, just like Carl does.”
“That’s not how I’ve found him,” I said, and my voice was prickly. I was prickly. “Not ever. Not at all.”
Rick didn’t linger on it. “Anyway, this is just background. The real heart of the matter, this baby thing, that’s been brewing for years. Carl told me there was this park about twenty minutes’ walk from the hostel, a better park than the rundown piece of shit one by theirs. He used to take himself off there, and sit and watch. There were families, he said, nice families. Proper mums and dads with happy kids, just having a good time. He used to sit outside the fence and watch them, and pray that he’d have a family like that of his own one day. People to love.” He sighed. “Kids to love.” He picked up a bit of woodchip, turned it in his fingers. “When your dad gave him a shot he threw himself into work, to get ready for the future, to make something of himself. That’s what he says. Didn’t meet Melanie until his late twenties, but thought she was the one. She claimed she felt the same. Who wouldn’t with a guy like Carl? He’s gorgeous, successful, smart…” His voice trailed off. “But the woman was a wild thing, believe me. Couldn’t imagine her doing the school run, to be honest, couldn’t imagine her with a couple of kids, not in a million years. But he could.”
“She was the woman with him when you met?”
He nodded. “Yeah, on some seedy website. You know the drill. Turned up at theirs and hit it off. I thought they were cool. Nice couple, great in bed. Adventurous. They seemed pretty solid, until they really weren’t.”
“They split up?”
Rick’s eyes met mine, and he was wary of telling me. I could see the hesitation.
“You don’t have to tell me…” I said, but he shook his head.
“I do need to tell you.” He tossed the woodchip from hand to hand. “Carl thought they were serious. He thought they were for keeps. They talked about it, he says, about settling down, having a family. It was all he ever wanted.”
“She didn’t want it?”
“She said she did. Stopped taking the pill, made all the right noises, said all the right things. I mean, they’d been together ages. Years and years without any real commitment, any real signs of her being ready, but he waited. He finally thought she was ready, she said she was ready.”
“She didn’t get pregnant?”
He sighed. “Apparently not. She kept telling him to give it time, said it would happen.”
“But it didn’t?”
He flicked the woodchip away. “She was lying.”
“Still on the pill?”
“No,” he said. “That would have been easier.” He closed his eyes. “Two abortions.”
Fucking hell. “Two?”
“At least two. A slip up from a friend who’d had too much to drink, mentioned it in passing, like he knew.”
“Oh my God.”
“He was fucking devastated. His whole life he’d wanted a family, months, years probably of trying. Imagine that, all that waiting, all that trying, just to find out the woman you think you want to spend your life with has decided to terminate two of your kids without you knowing. Broke his fucking heart.”
I felt cold. Cold and sad. My stomach ached for him. “That’s horrible.”
“Yeah, it is. It really is. They split up over it, she walked away without really breaking a sweat. She never loved him, not really. I think she loved the idea of him, which is crazy to me, really fucking crazy, he’s everything to me.” He took a breath. “For a while we were just mates. A couple of beers at the weekend. Then a couple of beers in the week. We’d talk, a lot. Laugh a lot. We just fit together. We found other women when he was up to it, just casually.” He smiled a big smile. “I knew I loved him, even back then. I thought he was amazing. It took him a little longer. I guess it was the family thing. Or maybe he just wasn’t that into me.” He laughed a little. “I guess I wormed my way under his skin. Eventually.”
I smiled. “Did you always know you were bi?”
He nodded. “My family were awesome, taught us kids that love is love and that’s all that matters. It didn’t seem like a big deal to me, I just wanted who I wanted. They love Carl.” His eyes twinkled and it gave me butterflies. “They’d love you, too.”
I didn’t know what to say about that, so I said nothing. “Was Carl always bi, too?”
“I think so, maybe. For me my sexuality was no biggie, I just liked what I liked, loved who I loved. For Carl I think it was more of a take comfort where you can kinda thing, that’s how it started. I guess he found some solace in some of the other kids when he was headed off the rails, a bit of physical closeness through dark nights. An outlet for the urges, I dunno. He says he was grateful for any kind of love no matter where it came from, and that stuck, although now I think it comes from a much healthier place inside. For him it doesn’t really matter whether that love is from a guy or a girl, or both. He doesn’t always say it back, the mag
ic little love phrase — a hang up from Mel, I guess — but he shows it, he feels it. Carl’s all about people, the people who care about him, people who want him. I wanted him. I really wanted him.”
I gave him a nudge. Squeezed his elbow. “And he wanted you. He loves you, that’s obvious.”
“I fucking love that guy. I love him so fucking much.” He sighed. “But we always wanted more. We wanted a family, right from early on, especially Carl. We figured we could have a polyamorous relationship, find someone on our wavelength, only it wasn’t so simple.” He paused. “Sex, yeah, that was simple. Money in exchange for sex, even easier, on the face of it. But something genuine? That evaded us.”
I didn’t speak, just listened.
“It’s hard for people, I guess. Threesomes are fun, hanging out as a threesome is fun, but to settle down? Do the whole poly thing long-term, with a kid, with a family, with funny looks from the other mums at the school playground?” He shook his head. “Sends people running. We’re like Saturday afternoon cocktails, me and Carl. Easy enough to get people to the bar for the buy-one-get-one-free, but they invariably guzzle enough to have a good time, then head off home for the night.”
“That isn’t how I see it,” I said. “Not now, I promise.”
“I hope not,” he said. “I really fucking hope not, because we’re in pretty deep with you, Katie. We think you’re amazing.”
I felt the blush. “Thanks.”
“I mean it. We think the world of you. Always will, no matter how things pan out.” He scratched at his beard. “Carl’s turning forty this year, and he’s feeling it. He’s worried it’s never gonna happen for him, for us, and that even if it does he’ll be too old to enjoy all the things he’s spent his life dreaming about. Too old to enjoy his grandkids, knocking on retirement’s door before his kid’s even flown the nest. It makes him… demanding.”
“How could it not? If he wants something that bad…” I thought of the yard, the disappointment of my dream slipping away from me. It hurt like a motherfucker, and I was just twenty-two, hardly any age. I still had Samson, still had my mum, still had my whole life ahead of me to find another dream.
“He’s a stronger man than I am, holding out for a dream for that long, having it thrown in your face and still keep going, still keep hoping. It can make him difficult, but Carl is a little difficult, especially at first.”
I got a tickle in my tummy at the memory. “Scary hot,” I said. “Intimidating. Blunt, too. But I like that.”
“I like that, too.” He got to his feet. “He’d have bought you this place, you know, if that’s what you wanted. He’s generous, wants to see you live your dreams. Always wants the best for people.”
He held out a hand and pulled me up, watched me as I brushed the dust from my jodhpurs. “I could never have taken it. It’s too much. Unless I could have…” I shook my head. “Probably not even then. I don’t think I could swap dreams like that, not when mine’s worth a cool couple of hundred grand.” I held my hands up. “I mean, fuck, that’s massive.”
“So is having a baby. The whole thing is massive, and way too fucking soon, like I said.”
I leaned back on the gate, looked at him, at the way the sun turned his hair chestnut, the deep brown of his eyes. He was so beautiful. “What’s the deal with you, Rick? You know all about Carl’s dreams, his shitty upbringing, mine, too. What’s your story?”
He shrugged, stared out at Samson. “Like I said, I’ve been lucky. My story is a good one.” He smiled. “Had a wild stint at university though, smoked a bit too much weed and spent all my money on slot machines.” He brought his finger to his lips. “Shh, don’t tell anyone, I’m a good boy now.” He smirked. “Seriously, my lot is a good one. Dicked about with a load of randoms, had a lot of sex and it was fun, but not fulfilling. Made it in graphic design, which is all I really wanted, to be creative.” He stepped up onto the gate, leaned over. “I have my faults. I waste way too much time. Carl’s a doer, I’m a procrastinator. I get addicted to things so easily, weird food, stupid games, getting inked. Everything. But I can live with that.” He laughed. “I’m really not that exciting or that special. I’m just a guy who tries to look on the sunny side, appreciates what he has.”
But he was exciting. He excited me. Everything about Rick excited me.
“I think you’re pretty damn special,” I said. “Pretty damn exciting, too.”
It took him aback, I could see it in his eyes. “Wow. You do? That’s sweet.”
“I do.”
He grinned. “That’s mighty fucking cool. Thanks.”
I stepped up on the gate beside him, kissed his cheek. “Thanks, Rick. Thanks for coming. I was feeling shitty, you brightened my day.”
“I’d be feeling shitty too if all this was being taken away from me.” He sighed. “It’s fucking ace here, I can see why you fell in love with it.” He stepped down. “Sure you’re not tempted? Take Carl up on his offer, live the dream?”
I shook my head. “I wish I could. I’d love it if this place was mine, more than anything.” I met his eyes. “But it’s not mine, and it isn’t going to be mine. I’ll just have to accept it, move on.”
He raised his eyebrows. “That’s fighting talk. I think you’re a tough little cookie, pretty lady.”
I laughed. “Not really. I still feel like my dream’s been wrenched from my heart, chewed up and spat out at my feet. But I’m feeling inspired.” I looked at my furry boy in the field. “I mean, if Carl can go through all that, lose all those dreams, and still come out the other side, I can take this little knockback on the chin, right?”
He wrapped an arm around my shoulders, kissed my head, pulled me close. “Carl’s a mystery to me, some kind of superhuman. But if anyone else can do it, take a setback and turn it into fuel to do better, I think it’s gonna be you. You’ve got fire, little miss horsey. Fire and passion and sunshine sparkles. Don’t ever lose that.”
“Don’t ever let me lose it,” I said.
“I’ll try my best.”
We walked back through the school, up past the stable block where Rick hung up Samson’s head collar like he’d been doing it a hundred years, and it felt so good to be at his side. It felt perfect.
If only I could be that person, the person they needed. The person they wanted so badly.
I hovered beside Rick’s car. Wondering where this left us, wondering where any of this would lead. Wondering where I even wanted this to lead.
“So,” he said. “Where to now, pretty lady? Need a lift?” He opened the passenger door in invitation. “I can put the roof down, travel in style. Wherever you want to go.”
I slipped into the seat, and the answer became obvious. So obvious.
“Home, please,” I said. “Yours.”
He reached over and took my hand, pressed it to his lips and kissed me, kissed my knuckles, every single one. And he smiled. He smiled and it lit up the world.
“Let’s go home,” he said.
He lightened the mood on the way back to Cheltenham, tuned into a cheesy radio station and sang along. He put the roof down, and it felt amazing, the wind catching my hair as we picked up speed. I loved the way his fingers drummed to the beat on the steering wheel, the way he danced in his seat so easily, so freely. Even though we were exposed — on show to every passing motorist without the privacy of the car roof — Rick had no reservations, no sense of self-consciousness, and I loved that about him. It was something I loved about both of them, the way their company felt so liberating, so free from the pressure of following any kind of status quo.
“I like this one,” I said, as one of my favourite tracks came on.
Rick turned up the volume. “Sing it, baby,” he said in a stupid voice.
And I did, I did sing it. My sad little heart picked up, and I laughed and sang the high bits even though my voice squeaked like a chipmunk when I lost the note.
He clapped when it was over, turned the volume back down.
“Man, we really need a night out,” he said. “Drinks and dancing and a huge fucking blow out.”
“Yes,” I said. “That sounds good.” I sighed, letting the tension of the stable disappointment fall away. “That sounds really great.”
“We still need to celebrate. You still did fucking ace this week, remember that. We need to party.”
I’d all but forgotten my triumph at work, a little thrill zipped through me. “It’s early days.”
“Early days, but you aced it. Carl said you were awesome. He’s so proud.” He squeezed my knee. “So am I.”
It made me blush. Maybe I was a just a little proud of myself, too.
The nerves started up as Rick turned onto their estate. The thought of facing Carl both excited and terrified me. Would he be cold again? Intimidating again? Closed off at the thought I couldn’t be the one they wanted?
Couldn’t I be the one they wanted? Was this inevitably doomed? The idea hurt.
Rick pulled onto their driveway. He turned off the radio and triggered the roof, and I fiddled with my seatbelt as we waited.
“Don’t look so scared,” he said. “We’re home. It’s all good.” He squeezed my hand. “There’s nothing to worry about, Katie, for real. No pressure.”
“I know… I just…” I let out a breath, unclipped my belt. “Let’s go.”
He opened the front door with a big smile on his face, ditched his keys on the side. “Honey, I’m home!” he called, and his voice was so warm, so silly.
I followed him through to the kitchen, and there was Carl, leaning against the island with his tablet in his hand, a mug of coffee by his side. His attention was on what he was doing, some work business, no doubt. I’d seen the same expression often as he crunched figures for sales meetings and client calls. But there was something else there, too. Maybe it was the grit of his jaw, or the uncharacteristic ghost of stubble, maybe even something more, something untenable, some kind of… sadness.
He was wearing a shirt, black and simple, over dark jeans. His hair was styled differently, slightly less slick than usual, probably towel dried, and he had no shoes on. I don’t know why that affected me so much, I don’t know why the sight of his bare feet on the tiles gave me flutters inside. I don’t know why seeing him so casual and off guard made my breath catch, made me feel hot and breathless.
