by A. E. Murphy
“Thank you,” I say softly, keeping my head down and walking along beside him.
“You’re welcome,” he responds, his voice also soft. It doesn’t match his handsome yet stern face. “Quickly.”
And the soft voice has left the building.
“When we get back I’m afraid I’ll have to leave you for an uncertain amount of time,” he explains and with a hand to my elbow and another to my back he helps me into his car. He barely pays attention to his gentlemanly ways, I’m wondering if he even notices he’s doing it.
“Do you mean like an uncertain amount of hours, days or weeks?”
He doesn’t answer until he’s in the driver’s seat. “Days.”
“Can I ask why?”
“No.” He states. “I like my privacy.”
“Oki doki,” I clear my throat and take the salad pot eagerly. Even though this is closer to rabbit food than it is to human food I eat as much as I can manage, which is the whole pot. “What’s going to happen to my car?”
“I’ll have someone collect it and store it. It’s too low for you to be driving in your condition and I’m shocked my brother would allow you to do so.” His hands tighten on the wheel, I see now he’s wearing black leather gloves. I don’t remember him wearing these earlier but if memory recalls, he was wearing them whilst dishing out the salad.
“He didn’t have a choice.”
“May I ask what happened to his trust fund?”
I shrug, “Your parents took it all from him when he moved.”
His mood seems to darken further. “He’s an idiot.”
“Hey,” I cry. “Don’t call him that.”
“Well he was and always has been.” His hands squeeze the wheel making his gloves squeak against the rubber. “His life choices were selfish and preposterous at best.”
I shake my head, wanting to ignore him for insulting my Caleb.
After a long sigh he glances at me, “Don’t get worked up, Caleb would have just laughed at my seemingly harsh words. I mean them in jest more than I mean them in distaste.”
“But you do mean them in distaste. You shouldn’t speak ill of the… the…”
“Dead,” he finishes for me when he sees that I can’t finish it myself. “Calm yourself, if I know Caleb he’d hate to know how much stress you’re feeling.” Why does he seem to say this like the words taste sour? “It’s not good for the child.”
I don’t respond. He’s right obviously but it’s not like I have a stress switch I can just flick on and off. Not as much as I’d like. Stress is a part of this life unfortunately and considering the circumstances it’s no surprise I have a rather unhealthy dose of it.
Staring at his profile hurts and I wonder if that feeling will ever stop. He’s not a clone of Caleb, not at all, their differences are significant in looks and personality, but there’s enough of Caleb in his face to make me ache.
It’s all still fresh, it’s only been a month since he died. That’s not enough time to truly get over someone and this is Caleb. My Caleb. My first love, the first man I gave myself too.
I’ll never get over that.
“Why are you staring at me?” I see his lips thin to a white line, I’m irritating him.
“Sorry,” I mumble and stare out of the window. I just can’t decide whether it’s painful or strangely soothing to look at you, knowing that in my stomach isn’t the only piece of Caleb that has a beating heart right now.
There’s a gentle tapping sensation under the surface of my skin. I gasp and sit up, placing my hand over the bump.
“What is it? Is it the baby?”
“He just kicked me a little harder than usual,” I explain, still rubbing my abdomen. “It’s not a big deal. It just shocked me. I’ve never felt him move so obviously before, it’s usually just little taps and fluttering, but this was more prominent.”
He nods, seemingly appeased.
Time for silence.
He was right when he said I’d find his house to be of good taste. It’s really not what I expected, not in the slightest. This is a family home, it’s large and spacey with a lot of land surrounding it. We’re atop of a cliff but about three miles from the edge.
I noticed other homes as we ascended the steep incline but not one of them were as pretty as this one. Caleb grew up in the city nearby with his parents, it was the place he escaped. Not liking the hustle and bustle of a busy place, from a young age he searched for a smaller town and found mine.
I’m wondering why Nathan lives so far out of the way. Sure it’s only a forty five minute drive but it seems like an unnecessary one. This man is complex, I see that now.
“The fridge is full of food suitable for your condition,” he explains as he guides me into the entrance hall.
Condition? I’m pregnant, this isn’t a condition.
Sigh.
I take off my coat and watch him hang it inside a closet to my right. There are wide stairs to the left against the wall, before this is an archway leading to what looks to be the living area. Which is huge, very old fashioned and quite cosy if I’m being completely honest.
I’ve always been into modern and quirky furnishings but this place is all antique and comfort. The walls could do with brightening up from their deep browns and oranges. The hallway is beige with a wooden border to make up the bottom half.
“These lights are cool,” I remark and point at the candle shaped wall lights.
“If you get cold the thermostat is here, there’s one upstairs in the hallway. Just press the plus button until you get to the desired temperature and press this button,” he moves on to the next thing, showing me how to work the oven and the ice box. “I need to leave now. Make yourself at home. My number is by the phone in the kitchen, call me if you need anything.” He goes to leave, stops and turns back, “Your room is up the stairs, take a right and go up the three steps. It’s down that hall, two doors on the right. My room is on the next floor. Respect my privacy and stay out.”
“Kay,” I watch him leave, his body perfectly poised, his legs carrying him with a grace that shouldn’t be possible for his height. He’s a couple of inches taller than Caleb now that I think about it. It’s the hair that’s driving me nuts when I view him from behind. He needs to have it cut, soon he’ll be tucking it behind his ears like Caleb had to. I loved it on Caleb, I won’t be able to handle it if I see it on his brother who looks so much like him.
The wind is powerful up here, I discover this fact when I wander outside into the garden and the wind blew me back a few steps. The house is along a secluded path with nothing but a narrow road leading to it, between rows and rows of trees. This area is private, I know this because I just passed a ‘Trespassers Beware’ sign.
I don’t wander far, mostly because the sky’s grey with thick clouds and my ankles are aching with each step. The farthest I go is a mile before heading back. It’s beautiful out here. I want to go to the cliff edge at some point, not too close because my fear of heights will paralyse me, but close enough to look over the countryside. There’s no sea here which is sad as I’ll miss the sounds and smells, but the air is fresh and the views are stunning so I don’t mind too much.
I’m back at the house and it’s a little bit cold so I fiddle around with the thermostat until I hear the hum of the radiators heating up. Next I explore, this place is big and beautiful and way too clean. My nesting instincts don’t kick in like they usually do.
His cleaner is obviously brilliant, I bet she gets paid well. I can’t see a speck of dirt anywhere. Although the scent of bleach lingers in every single room. It’s irritating, I need to get rid of that.
So that’s what I set out to do next, I keep away from his room and also his study when I discover it on the first floor. The first thing I do is almost gag on the strong scent of bleach. It’s almost burning my nose. The room is spotless, I doubt there’s even a speck of dust in the air.
I back away slowly and move on to the next room.
T
hree hours later I’ve managed to give the house a little bit of air, but now it’s freezing again so I shut all the windows and turn the heating back up. That’s the extent of what I do for the day. Not including raiding the fridge and finding nothing but organic fruit, veg and fresh meat.
I can live with this.
Heading up to my room, which is large and actually quite feminine and beautiful in a floral sense, I sit on the padded window seat, my phone in my hand. All the while skimming through a book that I’m not actually focusing on. It’s raining, rather badly now. Every drop hits the window like a tiny baseball. It sounds like I’m in a green house, that’s how heavy the droplets are on the window. The rattling sounds like it’s coming from every direction.
It’s depressing.
I give up on the book and climb into my temporary bed instead.
My bed is comfy but it doesn’t smell like Caleb, it still offers me the security I need at present. Burying my face under the covers I close my eyes and shut off my thoughts. Back into the abyss I go.
******
Waking at nine I have time to call my boss and quit, I apologize for not giving him notice but he’s completely fine with it considering the circumstances and wishes me the best of luck. I don’t want to go downstairs, I want to stay in bed but my stomach is eating itself. No matter how sad I am I need to put the baby first.
I have breakfast which consists of toasted brown bread and beans.
What Nathan doesn’t know won’t hurt. I would’ve preferred eggs but I can’t see any in the fridge or anywhere else. My thoughts go back to what he said yesterday. Does he think they’re bad for the baby or does he just have a problem with eggs in general? Do I honestly care?
I’m certain it’s raw eggs that aren’t brilliant for pregnant women and not cooked eggs so his concerns don’t worry me. Not that I can actually call his concerns, concerns. This is because he doesn’t seem bothered he just seems like the type that likes to be in control and this is a shitty situation so those urges are kicking in, in all of the wrong places.
I’m sure he means well.
I wonder what he’s doing. Maybe he’s on a business conference or something.
I know Caleb’s father owns a chain of jewellery stores spread across five countries and it’s forever expanding. He owns the company that finds the gems and the company that finds the metal. I’m not sure how rich this makes him or how rich this makes Nathan or if they’re even rich at all.
Obviously they probably are and this house certainly screams ‘wealthy’ but it doesn’t scream ‘Bill Gates’. Not that I care. It’s just something to think about to keep my mind off the other issues I have to deal with.
Like the fact I’m technically a widow. Oh my god. I’m a widow… sort of.
That’s something you read about, or hear about, or see in older people. It’s not something you experience at the age of twenty one.
Well, twenty one as of seven weeks ago.
I know it is something people experience at this age, I’m not stupid. You hear about it but you never think it’s going to happen to you. I wish we’d taken out life insurance, safeguarded our future.
It should’ve been the first thing we did when I fell pregnant. At least then I wouldn’t be here, I’d have been able to afford the rent and everything the baby needs for a while until I finished university and got a job.
Gah. It’s no use thinking about any of this. Why am I torturing myself with ridiculous what ifs?
“Morning,” a cheery sounding female voice calls as the main entrance door opens and then closes. “Anybody home?” She enters the kitchen, sees me and smiles. I’d smile back but I haven’t gotten to that point of my grief yet where I can feel emotion enough to change my facial expression from blank or tortured. “Well look at you.”
“Hi,” I say politely.
She’s a mid-forties woman with a soft smile, her eyes are deep blue and you know just by looking into them that she’s lived. It’s odd how you can just tell that with some people. I wonder if you can tell that by looking at me.
“You must be Mr Weston’s guest, Guinevere right? It’s a pleasure to meet you, I’m Jeanine” she opens her arms and gives me a firm hug. Her hand rubs my back a couple of times before she holds me at arm’s length, her smile still certain. “You are absolutely gorgeous, and look at this bump. May I?”
“Sure,” I say, my fingers tucking my hair behind my ears.
She instantly places her hands over the small swell, “My, my, my. You’re going to have an eight pounder, easy.”
“Great,” I murmur solemnly and try to picture my future. All I see is a whale with my face.
“A healthy one too,” her smile gets brighter. “You sit. I’ll make us some tea. How are you feeling?”
“Fine,” I respond but her eyes tell me she knows the truth.
Fortunately she doesn’t comment, she only sets about her business, a bounce in each step. “It’s wonderful to have you here. I’m sure Nathan thinks so too.”
“Ha,” I let out unintentionally.
If this woman smiles any wider she’s going to lose the top of her head. “He gets awfully lonely up here even though he denies it. Rarely gets to leave what with work.” Oh, so he’s a work from home kind of guy. That explains the distance from the city thing. “It’ll be nice having you here and of course the baby.” I watch as her smile falls, pity and concern replacing it. “I’m very sorry for your loss. I was told not to mention it but it wouldn’t be right if I didn’t offer my sincerest condolences.”
“That’s okay, thank you. No point avoiding the obvious,” I say this on a sigh.
It’s true though, there’s no point tiptoeing around something so huge or the people dealing with it will never fully learn how to face it. As much as I don’t want to face it and it hurts to be reminded that he’s gone, he is in fact gone and I have to deal with that. For my sake and the baby’s.
“Well, have you eaten?”
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry about the food, Nathan insisted I buy only organic for his niece or nephew. But…” she smiles wickedly and places a finger to her lips before beckoning me to the pantry. “If you look back here, there’s a large plastic container. I filled it with goodies.” Goodies? People still say this? And I highly doubt he referred to my unborn as his niece or nephew. Or maybe he did, I don’t know him well enough to assume.
I want to hug her again, “Thank you. I’ve been desperate for chocolate.”
“I didn’t get you anything with peanuts but what I got is still bloody brilliant,” she wanders away leaving me to raid the container. I find a Twix and almost cry. “How do you like your room?”
I shrug, “It’s very…”
“Old fashioned?”
“You could say that. It’s beautiful though.” It’s just a room with a bed where I can bury my head. I don’t care about the décor.
She grins again, “Redecorate. We’ll do the nursery too. How I do love decorating a nursery. Although it’s been a long time since I had this joy. My youngest just left home last month.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
She lets out a short cackle, “Oh I’m not. It’s about bloody time he figured out his place in the world like his older siblings.” I want to laugh, the feeling is there but I just can’t. She doesn’t take offence, her eyes yet again are knowing. She does however, touch my shoulder gently and add on a quiet whisper, “It’ll get easier my darling. You will smile again.”
With a nod I sit back down and watch her potter around the kitchen. She natters away about her kids and life and how she came to work for Nathan three years ago. The story isn’t interesting, he put an ad in the local newspaper and she was interviewed, so were two other younger and slimmer women but she kicked their arses. Again I wanted to smile but couldn’t. She laughed and smiled enough for both of us so that’s okay.
After half an hour and a cup of tea she leaves me in the kitchen and goes about her business
.
Now what do I do? I guess I could see what’s on the TV. Hopefully something interesting.
Chapter Eight
Two days slowly pass by and I get no word from Nathan. Not that I want nor need word from him. I’m absolutely exhausted. Today I walked two miles out instead of just the one and almost got lost on my way back. Tomorrow I’m going to take a piece of chalk and mark the trees as I go so I don’t get lost. My skills at exploring are definitely below par.
I also need some walking boots and some more clothes. All of my things are still in Nathan’s car which is irritating. The only thing I brought in is my rucksack. I wonder what made him in such a rush that he couldn’t spend twenty minutes bringing in my things.
Sigh.
It’s late, I’m currently curled up on the couch in a robe which Jeanine brought for me this morning. I’m wearing the matching night gown beneath which is satin and feels amazing against my oversensitive skin and especially my belly. It fits perfect, snug around the breasts but floats over my belly and back like a silky cloud.
Caleb loved satin, he tried to make me buy satin bed sheets but they’re irritating when it’s warm and the quilt inside the cover never stays in place.
My eyes burn, I refuse to cry. But sometimes even though you tell yourself not to cry, you can’t help it.
I miss him so much and the baby’s kicking. Every time I’d feel a flutter, Caleb would instantly put his hands or his head there if he wasn’t busy. Even though he couldn’t feel it, he liked sharing the experience with me.
He’s never even going to get to hold him, never going to see his first smile.
