by Lesley Jones
It happened though. Christmas. I knew it did because my brother thought it would be a good idea to buy my kids a dog. A fucking dog. As if I didn’t have enough chaos and shit to clean up, he added a puppy for me to deal with.
Rogue.
That was his name. No clue why, but that was his name. He was small and brown, chewed everything, and shit all over my fucking house.
Kind of cute, though, and the boys loved him, so that was all that really mattered, right? The boys loved him.
They boys got a dog, and Liam got me a babysitter. Well, not me—he got a babysitter to watch the kids for me when I needed it. Her name is Taylor, and she had way too much energy. She was bright, she was bubbly. The boys loved her. Having a babysitter meant that Liam and me could have nights out. We could go on dates again. Except, Liam was never home. Never fucking here. Working, working, always fucking working.
Turned out dogs and babysitters were a lethal combination when I was thrown into the mix.
It was the second day of term after the Christmas break. And the day started as shit from the get go. I’d booked Taylor to babysit while I went on another search to find the old me, but I had overslept. I did that occasionally, but today was a school day and the bone-weary tiredness I was constantly fighting had got the better of me.
I ran downstairs as fast as I could and found Carter at the kitchen worktop eating cereal. The bowl he was eating from was almost empty, but there was a pool of milk with Cheerio’s floating in it, over the table, on the floor, every-fucking-where.
The cereal box was on the floor too, the contents spilled out, and the dog was eating them. I cleared this mess up first. Then I ventured into the family room. We had a no food rule in this room for the kids, but obviously, I wasn’t there to enforce it, so Lucas was eating jam straight from the jar. At least he was using a spoon.
Every single cushion and throw pillow had been pulled from the sofa and scattered around the room, and Archie and Flynn were in the middle of one of their usual tournaments in the middle of it. Their faces smeared red and orange.
I took the jam jar from Lucas, and groaned when I saw he was naked from the waist down. We were almost at the end of potty training, but he was still wearing a nappy for bed.
“Boys, what did you have for breakfast? Pick up the cushions please. Where did the baby’s nappy go?
“We had Wotsits and sauce,” Archie informed me.
“He took it off. He pood in his potty,” Flynn let me know right before he jumped on another cushion.
“Good boy, Lucas.” I ruffled his hair and kissed his head, but when I picked him up to put some underwear on him, I caught a whiff of something gross. There were brown marks all up the backs of his legs and all over the sofa cushion he was sitting on.
Great. A shit-stained sofa.
But such is life with kids, right?
Right.
“Where’s the potty?” I needed to get that thing emptied before it ended up amongst the chaos currently going on in the middle of my family room.
“Boys! Stop fighting. Pick up the cushions. Where’s the potty.”
“Over there.” Flynn pointed. I turned to see Rogue chowing down on Lucas’s poo.
“Rogue. No. Leave.” I moved towards the dog with Lucas on my hip.
“Fucking dog,” I mumbled quietly as I scooted him out of the way and lifted the empty potty.
Obviously, my mumble was louder than I thought as Lucas shouted at Rogue. “Shoo. Shoo. Fucking dog.”
I ignored him, took the empty potty to the laundry, and put it in the sink there. I ran upstairs with Lucas and showered his bottom half before dressing him. I changed out of my pyjamas, threw them in the wash, and then put on the first thing I found.
I took Lucas out to my car in the garage and strapped him into his seat and out of harm’s way.
“Carter. Upstairs. Wash your face, clean your teeth. Uniform on.”
He drank the last of the milk from his cereal bowl and made his way upstairs.
“Good boy.”
“Archie. Flynn. Final warning. Pick up the cushions. Now.”
They mumbled their complaints but did as they were told, which was when I saw the bowls of cheesy Wotsits. They were covered in tomato sauce, and the bowls they were in were tipped upside down, their contents spread all over two of the cushions from the sofa.
I stood in the middle of the room, raked my hands through my greasy hair, and I cried. I watched as the dog appeared and started eating the Wotsits and licking the sauce with his shitty tongue and his shitty mouth. The twins rolled past in another one of their tangles, fighting over fuck knows what, and that was when I did something I never did. I got angry.
“Stop!” I screamed. “Just give me a fucking break and stop for five minutes.”
I grabbed each of them by the hand and dragged them up the stairs so fast their feet weren’t touching the ground. Archie started crying, but Flynn giggled, probably thinking it was just a game.
I pulled them both into the bathroom.
“Just stand there, be quiet, and stop fighting for five fucking minutes.”
I swore at my kids.
I was crying as I shouted at them.
Flynn took one look at me and burst into tears.
All three of us were crying, and I could hear Lucas screaming from his car seat.
I rinsed a face cloth under the tap and washed their hands and faces, then told them to clean their teeth. I put their clothes out on their beds and told them to get dressed.
I took deep breaths and calmed down enough to go check on Carter. When I walked into his room and found him still wearing his pyjamas and playing on his iPad, I lost it.
“What are you doing?” I screamed again. Yanking him up by the arm, I pulled the device out of his hands and flung it across the room. I didn’t even remember hearing it land.
“I sent you up here fifteen minutes ago. You’ve done nothing. Nothing.”
And then I slapped him.
I hit my child.
The outline of my handprint appeared red and angry across the top of his leg, and I stared at it in silence.
I hit my child.
Carter cried softly but never said a word as I stood and stared at him in silent mortification.
I hit my child.
I took a few deep, shaky breaths, and headed to the kitchen to make my son’s lunch. Once that was done, I turned to find my three eldest boys standing at the bottom of the stairs. Their cheeks were blotchy and their eyes were shining from the tears I’d caused them, but at least they were fucking dressed.
“Get in the car.”
We drove to school in silence, and when I pulled into the Kiss and Go zone, I kissed Carter’s cheek, told him I loved him, and wished him a good day.
I dropped the twins at playgroup, and then I went home and took in the devastation left in my family room. For the longest time, I stood there thinking about how it represented my life and the mess I’d made of it. Which led me to thinking about what I needed to do to make it better.
All my life, I’d worried that I would end up just like her. My mother. But I wasn’t like her at all.
I was worse.
I’d already taken the life of my unborn child, and a few hours ago, I’d inflicted physical harm on another.
Something needed to be done, but I didn’t know how to fix it. The more I thought about it, the thicker the fog became, the less clear I was able to see, and the deeper I sank.
I went through the motions of cleaning the seat cushions on autopilot, luckily they were leather. I tidied our home, and I collected the children from school.
I left Taylor at our house with the boys a few hours later. An early evening appointment was all I could get for this last and final attempt at searching for the old me.
I’d already had my nails done. I’d had my hair done. I’d had a pedicure, eyelash tint, and eyebrow wax. You name it. I fucking got it, because I thought all of that would help me find he
r. That girl I used to be.
I didn’t go far, just across town. I thought I’d try eyelash extensions this time—nothing too glamorous. I was just a stay-at-home mum after all. I opted for the one-on-one application, which took almost two hours, but I walked out with thick, dark lashes and absolutely no sign of the old me. I was still lost, but my lashes . . . my lashes looked fucking amazing.
And that was all that mattered, right?
Right.
The boys were happy. They loved their dog. They didn’t like me, because der, I was a terrible mother who murdered their sibling and screamed, swore, and smacked my children, but at least I had amazing fucking lashes.
I played my music loud on the way home.
I sang . . . loudly . . . the whole way.
“Ex’s and O’s”.
I pulled into our court.
I pulled into our drive, and then I felt a bump just as I noticed our front door was open.
No.
No.
This wasn’t happening.
Lucas waited at the window for me to come home.
Always.
He ran to the front door.
He had worked out how to unlock it. I forgot to tell Taylor. Forgot to warn her.
My car was big. Lucas was small.
My eyes were zeroed in on the empty window where Lucas should have been.
The music was loud, but I could hear them.
Carter. Archie. Flynn.
Screaming.
Screaming. Screaming. Screaming.
Three of my children were screaming.
One of my children was missing.
I couldn’t breathe.
I couldn’t fucking breathe.
I fell. I opened the door so fast I fell out of the car gasping for air. The engine was still running; the music still playing.
I was on my hands and knees and it was dark and I was screaming.
“Lucas!” I screamed so loudly I felt like my throat was bleeding. I was on my hands and knees in the dark, and I was searching under the car, but I couldn’t see him.
I couldn’t find him.
And then I did.
Taylor had him. He was crying, and Taylor was crying, but he looked fine. Carter, Flynn, and Archie. All crying.
And that was when I saw him.
The dog.
I’d hit the dog.
“I’m so sorry, he was so quick. He saw you from the window and ran for the door, but Flynn caught him and pulled him back in to me.” Taylor was sobbing now, and the boys were on me. Lucas reached out his arms, and I took him and held him close. I kissed his head and breathed him in as every single cell in my body shook so bad, I felt like I was convulsing.
“Flynn brought him back, but the dog got out the open door. I screamed at the kids not to dare chase after him because of the road.” She covered her tear-streaked face with her hands and sobbed harder. “I’m so sorry.”
I climbed to my feet with Lucas on one hip, Archie on the other, and Flynn and Carter pressed up against me.
“Call Liam, Taylor. Call Liam, explain what happened, and ask if he can come home.”
I sat on the sofa and did my best to console my babies. I did this to them. I killed their dog, their puppy. They loved him, and I killed him. I didn’t mean to, but I did.
“He’s on his way.”
“You okay?” Taylor shook her head and started to sob again, and then we are all crying again. We were still sitting on the couch sobbing when Liam came through the door. The boys sobbed and clung to their dad, and all I could think was: I did this.
Liz arrived and took Taylor home. My brother arrived with Liam and was out the front dealing with the dog. I sat and rocked Lucas in my arms.
The kids eventually fell asleep, and Liam helped me bring them upstairs and tuck them together in our bed. They were sleeping soundly, snuggled in and safe in my and Liam’s bed, and I finally allowed myself to completely and utterly fall apart.
In my husband’s arms, I shattered.
“I thought it was Lucas.” My words and my sobs heaved out of me. “I thought I hit the baby. That could’ve been the baby, Liam. I could’ve killed one of the kids.”
“Shhhh. It’s okay. They’re safe. Look. They’re all there and they’re safe.”
He slid down onto the floor and pulled me into his lap.
“I’ve got you, pretty girl. Always remember that. I’ve always got you.”
But he didn’t.
He was never there.
He wasn’t there for the twins.
He wasn’t there for Grandad.
He wasn’t there when I made a decision that led to the darkest day of my life, and he wasn’t there for this.
He was never there.
Luke walked into our bedroom with a bottle of bourbon and three glasses.
“No, I don’t like bourbon.”
“Just have a little drop, bub. It’ll calm you down,” Liam suggested.
I took a swig and felt the burn. My head spun so I took another. Luke slid down on to the floor next to us. “I’m sorry, Sunshine. It was a stupid, irresponsible present. I should’ve checked with the pair of you first. You’ve got your hands full as it is without giving you a puppy to look after as well. I just thought it would be good for the boys to have a dog.” My breaths were still coming out shaky, so I didn’t reply in case I started to cry again. “I’ve got some Ambien at my place if you have trouble sleeping. Just give me a ring, and I’ll drop them back over.”
“What’s Ambien?”
“Sleeping tablets,” The boys both said together.
“She won’t need them,” Liam added. “I’ll run her a bath and pour her another drink. She’ll be fine.”
Luke kissed the top of my head and left. Liam ran me a bath and while I soaked in the bubbles and sipped wine, I thought again about my life. I thought about the fact that I should never have been born. I wasn’t planned. I wasn’t wanted. I was a mistake. I shouldn’t have happened.
My children were my greatest achievement, but I had snuffed out the existence of one of them. This morning, I’d smacked another. Tonight, I’d been a threat to the baby.
They’d gotten off lightly so far. I’d probably traumatised them, but tonight at least they’d escaped physical harm. What if next time they weren’t so lucky? What if the powers that be wanted an eye for an eye? I’d ended the life of one of my children before he’d even had a chance to take his first breath, so what if now there was a price to pay? Was that the way it worked? Was that what was happening here?
Recompense?
Payback?
Well, there was no way I would let them take my children. They could have me instead.
As I came to my conclusions and made my decision, I let the fog take me. I let it swallow me whole. I let the guilt rake great big gaping wounds across my flesh, and I let the rest of who I was fade away.
Since our bed was full, Liam made us a makeshift bed on the floor. I cried while we made love quietly, and when we were done, I kissed him and whispered, “Goodbye.”
He would hurt for a little while, but it was the right thing to do.
***
Outside the school the next morning, I kissed Carter goodbye, told him that I loved him, that he was my big brave boy, and that he had to always look out for his brothers.
Liam was finishing early and picking Carter up from school that afternoon. He was worried that being the eldest, he might have been a little more affected than the younger boys by the previous night’s events.
The timing couldn’t have been better.
Liam would collect Carter.
It was perfect.
It was meant to be.
I kissed the twins and waved them goodbye as they walked hand in hand into their playgroup.
I then called Taylor on the pretence of checking to see if she was okay.
“I’m okay. I just feel so awful.”
“It was just a horrible accident, Tay, not your fault at
all.”
“How are the boys doing?”
“Surprisingly well, they’ve been asking after you.”
“Aww, really? I’m off today, can I come over and see them?”
“Sure. Ya know what, actually, could you do me a massive favour?”
“Of course, what d’ya need?”
“Would you be able to come to mine and collect Lucas and then walk up to the playgroup and pick up the twins for me?”
“Sure. Should I take them back to yours?”
“Yeah. Liam is picking up Carter, but I might even be back by then. I’m just gonna get my hair done.”
“I thought you had it done last week.”
“Yeah, I’m just getting a blow dry.”
I lied. The fog and the guilt, they helped me. They made the lying so easy.
“Okay. I’ll be round soon.”
I ended the call as I was pulling up to Luke’s place. He was already gone to work, so I let myself in and found what I was looking for.
***
After kissing my baby boy goodbye, I drove to the next town over from ours and checked into the first hotel I came across. The room was small but clean, and I stripped out of my clothes in a haze and wrapped myself in the complimentary big fluffy robe. I opened the bottle of wine I’d brought with me and poured a glass, drank it down, and then poured another.
My thoughts wandered to hotel rooms and Hob Nobs. To New South Austrians. To Betty Boop lamps and Will Bennett. I thought about my mum who’d died and then my dad who’d left me. I thought about Sasha who never called, Luke who never came around much anymore, and Liam . . . Liam who no longer saw me.
In one way or another, they all left. They all left, but now they wouldn’t have to. My husband could find a better wife, and my children would have a better mother.
And everything would really be fine.
2016
“Hey, bud.” I smiled at Carter as he walked towards me, and then I spotted his teacher following not far behind.
“Ah shit,” I mumbled quietly under my breath. The kid had been as good as gold for the last year or so. No fights, no trouble.
