by Lisa Heidke
Peter looked confused. ‘Wasn’t us. We rarely deliver. Our clients like to see their cakes before they pay for them.’
True. ‘Any unusual requests lately?’
‘What? More extreme than the cakes Rosie’s asking me to bake?’
‘Good point.’
‘Have you run out of ideas for the next one?’ he asked.
I shook my head. ‘Nah, just checking what other lunatics out there are ordering.’ I looked around the shop floor. ‘My daughters are so jealous they didn’t get to sample your cake last night, so today, I want to buy them a treat,’ I said, spying the dozens of colourfully decorated cupcakes in a glass display cabinet. I pointed to a couple of the nearest. ‘I’ll take six each of those.’
So the cake wasn’t delivered to my house by Peter’s staff or a courier, but it was still baked by Peter. His signature P had been piped along the base. Liam? Nah, that made no sense.
I was glad I wasn’t home when Liam picked up the girls. After I’d given them their cakes (which Liv loved and Evie scowled at), and we’d eaten chicken and lettuce sandwiches (no butter) for lunch, I went for a long walk along the beach, only heading home when I was sure they’d be gone.
I knew exactly how I was going to spend the rest of the day: gym, reading and sleeping, not necessarily in that order.
The next morning I woke up feeling strong and positive, refreshed. I adored my girls, but having the morning to sleep in, shower undisturbed and then sit at my favourite cafe, read the Sunday papers, sip a latte and eat croissants? I was feeling content. Liam was looking after the girls and I relished the opportunity just to sit and breathe.
As I walked home, in addition to thinking about the unexpected and troubling roses and cake delivery, I was thinking it would be good to have another dog, if nothing else so we’d be alerted to strangers on the property.
A puppy couldn’t replace Baxter, but that was the circle of life. Baxter had had a great innings, living most of his days by the beach. The girls missed him and I missed the family walks along the beach, having him chase seagulls and bark at the waves. Yes, in another fifteen years, our new puppy would pass on, but what about those fifteen years of joy? Now that it was just the girls and me—and more often than not me alone—the idea of having another canine companion was compelling.
27
On Monday evening at exactly seven pm when Liam arrived on our doorstep, Evie pounced.
‘You and Mum are going to dinner!’ she squealed, hugging him, unable or unwilling to hide her delight.
‘Calm down, idiot,’ said Liv, her bored tone shining through.
‘Olivia!’ I glared at her. ‘Leave your sister alone.’
‘She’s such a baby.’
Evie, still wrapped around Liam, stuck out her tongue.
Olivia rolled her eyes. ‘See what I mean?’
Evie disengaged from Liam and walked over to the sideboard, picking up a photo. She shoved it under Liam’s nose.
‘Mum looks so pretty in this photo, don’t you think?’
Liam looked slightly uncomfortable. ‘Mum looks pretty in every photo, Evie. She’s a photogenic woman and it’s a gift she’s passed on to you and Liv. My three gorgeous girls.’
‘I think I’m going to be sick,’ said Liv. ‘Can I go now?’
‘Sure,’ I said, looking at her. ‘Evie, Dad and I are going to dinner. Please finish your homework. I won’t be home late.’
But Evie wasn’t giving up that easily. ‘What do you like best about Mum?’ She looked expectantly at Liam.
Poor man. ‘Let’s see,’ he said, smiling. ‘Her laugh, the way your mum lights up a room when she enters it, her ability to put others at ease, her sense of fairness and kindness—’
‘Liam. Stop.’ Now I was feeling uncomfortable.
‘What? It’s all true. You always see the good in people, Fri. But do you know what I like best about your mum, Evie?’
Evie beamed. ‘No. Tell me.’
‘She adores you and Olivia. That’s what I like best.’
‘And on that note,’ I said, getting misty-eyed. ‘We’re off.’
We kissed the girls goodbye and drove to our favourite Japanese restaurant, or what used to be our favourite when we lived together.
‘What about Evie tonight, hey?’ Liam said.
‘She’s a romantic.’
‘I meant all the things I said about you.’
‘Thanks.’
‘I was telling the truth.’
We sat in awkward silence for a minute before Liam spoke again. ‘I’ve been thinking a lot about my parents. How much they sacrificed when Brad and I were growing up. I took it all for granted and, now, it’s too late.’
‘What’s too late? You were a wonderful son. They were incredibly proud of you.’
‘I could’ve been better. It only hit me at Christmas that I’d never see them again. I feel so guilty.’
‘About?’
‘A lot of things. Not being able to hold the family together. Not being able to save the baby—’
‘Liam, that was no one’s fault.’ I sighed. ‘It was one of those things. Nature.’
He nodded. ‘You can’t fix everything.’
‘No. But when I think about our situation now and what it’s doing to the girls, I wonder why we’re doing it. Are we so selfish we can’t put their needs ahead of our own?’
‘The girls know we love them.’
‘Yeah.’ I stared out the restaurant window, lost in thought, when I felt my handbag vibrating beside my leg. Someone was texting me, but I resisted reaching for it.
I turned back to Liam. I felt uneasy. Liam and I knew each other so well, but over the last few months we’d become distant. Liam was the father of my kids but also a stranger. I felt uncomfortable, not sure what to talk about. The girls? We’d sort of covered them in the car and during the walk to the restaurant. The house? What was there to say? It’s been a dry autumn. I didn’t think so. Extended family? That could lead to arguments. I definitely didn’t want to talk about Brad, or about my siblings for that matter. As for my mother, she’d been phoning regularly, asking if Liam and I were back together.
‘I saw Captain America the other day,’ I said absent-mindedly.
‘Who with?’
I blinked. ‘I watched it on television by myself.’
He sighed.
‘What? Don’t you believe me?’
‘It’s none of my business.’
Silently, I counted to ten. I knew Liam’s wounded voice when I heard it. Don’t tell me the whole night was going to be like this.
‘How’s Zumba? The girls tell me you’re really into it. Looking fit.’
‘Thanks. It’s good, but every time I go I’m in danger of throwing out my back.’ At a different time of our lives, I would have told Liam about the bizarre psychic woman and he would have laughed and told me she sounded fascinating. He might have also said that I had a knack for pulling people in, that I possessed a certain charm and energy, but now? I didn’t mention her. I did have a few nagging questions though.
‘Liam, we really need to talk about the separation.’
He leant back in his seat.
‘What went wrong between us? I really want to know.’
Liam looked taken aback. That deer-caught-in-the-headlights look. ‘I told you. Losing my parents, the baby.’
‘But those losses should have pulled us closer together.’
He blinked. ‘I felt like everything was closing in on me and I felt—’
‘Trapped.’
‘A little. It sometimes felt claustrophobic.’
‘Thanks.’
‘Not all the time.’
‘And now?’
‘I miss our life together, you and the girls.’
‘You miss the claustrophobia? Liam,’ I snapped, ‘if we got back together, those issues would still be there. You’d still feel trapped, claustrophobic. And I can’t bring back the baby or your mum and dad.’
‘You know,’ I said, sipping my wine, ‘I always considered you the more controlling one. If anything, I felt trapped.’
‘Really?’
‘Perhaps trapped isn’t the right word.’
‘I think we lost our way because of the day-to-day drudgery.’
‘Thanks.’ My irritation with him was growing.
Liam swallowed hard. ‘I meant to tell you…’
I braced myself for what was to come next. He was seeing a woman and was in love.
‘I’ve started,’ he gulped. ‘A comedy course.’
‘You have?’ My breathing returned to normal. ‘I’m impressed.’
‘I’ve only taken three. Two more to go. It’s scary but I love it. For the last one, we have to perform in front of an audience. I’m terrified. What if I fall flat on my face?’
‘You won’t.’
‘Thanks. I’ve learnt so much already. To use my instincts, emotion, develop stories from real life.’
‘That could be dangerous.’
Liam smiled. ‘Yeah, but as our teacher says, “You have to feel it to connect with the material.” I’m enjoying the process. And even with the little I’ve done in front of the class, I can see that I need to slow it down, take the time to build the tension, not just go for one constant laugh.’
I sipped my miso. ‘Many dick jokes?’
‘Hey! They’re gold, but yeah, hopefully something more substantial than that, like, “When I was twenty-two, thirty-two, I used to think…” You know, whatever. “Now I’m forty-two and let me tell you people, I was wrong!”’
‘You wrong, Liam? Never.’
‘I know. Me! Who’d have thought? But, yeah, I’m really into writing about FOMO.’
‘Which is?’
‘Fear Of Missing Out.’ Liam sipped his beer. ‘I realise I’ve been suffering for years.’
‘Go on.’
‘No one I know can turn off their phone for fear of missing a text, email or extraordinary tweet of the moment and we do that instead of living in the moment. I’m not unique. Everyone is searching for the perfect life, fearing they’re missing out and envious of what others have instead of appreciating what they have and being grateful.’
‘Profound.’
‘So, will you come and watch, maybe laugh occasionally in the right places?’
‘As long as you’re funny.’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
‘That you might be too truthful and I’ll cry.’
‘I hope not. That’s not what the comedy business is about.’
‘I’m sorry I haven’t been more encouraging.’
He waved a hand at me. ‘I should’ve stopped talking about it years ago and actually done something.’
‘You have now.’ I was genuinely excited for him. ‘You’re pursuing your dream.’
We both sat in comfortable silence for a moment before I spoke again. ‘Deirdre wants me to work three days a week.’
‘That’s good, isn’t it?’
‘I guess.’
Liam sighed. ‘What? You don’t want to do it because it might interfere with your divorce-party business?’
‘What makes you say that? And, no, that’s Rosie’s baby. I’m just helping when she needs it.’
He shook his head. ‘It’s ridiculous.’
‘It’s not actually. It’s a lucrative business and if it makes people happy—’
‘Happy?’ he repeated as our seaweed salads arrived.
I smiled at the waitress, hoping Liam would move on. Wrong.
‘What about kids, family? Divorce is nothing to be happy about.’
‘Liam, just drop it.’ He was the one who wanted this separation and now he was saying it wasn’t any cause for celebration. You could have fooled me. I probably should have held my tongue, but I couldn’t help myself. ‘I’m confused. You were happy enough to walk out of your family’s life and move in with Brad.’
‘That’s different. I’m not celebrating and I’m definitely not getting a divorce.’
I stared at him. ‘Aren’t you? What exactly are you doing, then?’
‘Friday, why do you have to be so confrontational?’
‘Because I want answers. And after a separation, normally comes the divorce—’
‘And party?’
I bit down on my lip. ‘I just want to know what’s going on.’
‘Why don’t you tell me? You must have an opinion? What does the guy who sent you the roses say?’
‘There is no guy.’
Liam shrugged. ‘Anyway, divorce sounds so final.’
I glanced up at the restaurant entrance and sucked in some air. Surely not. Newport was a hell of a long drive from Rose Bay for sushi.
I stared at Blake, recognising his long black coat from Kiama before making eye contact and quickly turning away, my foot tapping on the floor, shaking, willing him not to walk over. Not even Blake would be that bold.
Who was I kidding? Blake’s eyes rested on me a moment before he strode confidently towards us.
‘Friday,’ he said, beaming, before chastely kissing me on the cheek.
I wanted to run and hide. What would he say? Do? Why was he here? I couldn’t have imagined a more awkward scenario… Tommy lying in my bed flashed before my eyes. Okay, maybe one or two.
‘You must be Friday’s long-suffering husband,’ Blake joked, sticking out his hand and introducing himself.
Liam stood up to meet his hand and shake it.
Hello! More problematic by the second. So not funny. In a parallel universe, the gods were having a jolly old laugh, but in my time continuum, this was anything but amusing.
‘You’re a long way from home, Blake.’ I was pleased with my calm tone, no hint of underlying anxiousness.
‘Not really,’ he replied, his eyes penetrating mine, sucking me into his world so we were the only two who existed and shared an incredible secret. Which we did.
Liam coughed and sat back down.
Spell broken, Blake’s expression changed. ‘Long weekend at Palm Beach. Just passing through.’
Liam sat stony-faced, beer in one hand, pushing his tuna sashimi around his plate with chopsticks in the other.
‘What have you been up to?’ Blake blundered on. ‘Maria tells me your potions are doing the trick. Maybe I should see you, too.’
‘Did you meet her at a divorce party?’ Liam asked. Monotone. Bored expression.
‘No,’ I hurriedly explained to Liam. ‘Maria’s a naturopath client.’
Blake raised his eyebrows. ‘Divorce parties sound like more fun.’
I looked towards the kitchen, willing his takeaway to arrive so he could disappear from my life.
‘There’s a market for it,’ I said dismissively.
‘God knows why,’ said Liam, under his breath.
‘Oh, I know why,’ said Blake, taking him up on it. ‘What is it they say about women once they’re free from the domestic shackles that chain?’
Liam shot him a sharp look. I wanted to kick Blake.
Blake shrugged. ‘But what would I know? I’m married.’
Shut up! That’s what I wanted to scream at him. Why was he here? Just go. Please.
It seemed an eternity before Blake’s mountain of food arrived and he left.
‘New friends?’ Liam said, taking a swig of beer. ‘I don’t know you anymore.’
‘Stop being dramatic. I told you I met him through work.’
‘Your work encompasses so many different facets these days, Fri. I’m having trouble keeping up.’
I stuffed some tuna sashimi into my mouth. ‘I’m not asking you to.’
‘I didn’t pick up a good vibe from him.’
‘Since when are you into vibes?’
‘I don’t like him. As for that ridiculous overcoat, is he in the mafia or something?’ Liam glanced towards the exit and then looked back at me, sighing heavily.
What a night. After a little while, we carried on as though Blake had never been there, discussing the ongoing airline industrial dispute (we have differing opinions) and the threatened industrial action by teachers. We couldn’t even agree that teachers needed to be paid more money.
When he stood up and walked to the bathroom, I took the opportunity to check my phone.
One text from Blake: I told you I’d do something dramatic. That was kinda fun, no?
Delete.
One text from Evie: I love you, Mummy. Please don’t be mean to Dad.
Ouch. I wrote back: Never. Love you, sweetie. Home soon.
A text from Tommy. Who are you sleeping with tonight?
When I saw Liam returning, I quickly shoved the phone back into my bag to the sound of several pings going off.
Twenty minutes later, Liam dropped me at home but declined to come in. ‘Don’t want to disturb the girls.’
Okay. It was nine pm but whatever. ‘Thanks, Liam. It was nice.’
‘Nice?’
I shifted uncomfortably. ‘Thank you.’
‘Tell the girls I’ll pick them up at five on Friday.’
‘It’s only early. They’ll still be awake. Why don’t you tell them yourself?’
Liam hesitated. ‘I do want to see them, but only for five minutes.’
We walked inside to find Evie dozing on the lounge, television blaring.
While Liam stayed with her, I went to find Liv and let her know we were home.
‘Hey, Liv,’ I said, opening her door. ‘We’re—oh my God, Olivia. What did I tell you?’
She and Brodie were lying on her bed, arms and legs wrapped around each other, watching something on her iPad.
‘Get out!’ she screamed. ‘This is my room. I have a right to privacy.’
‘What’s going on?’ It was Liam. Great. He clocked Liv and Brodie on the bed and we all started shouting over the top of each other.
Liam was screaming ‘get out’ to Brodie, Liv was screaming ‘get out’ to both of us. Brodie was mumbling ‘sorry’ and rushing to put on his sneakers and I was saying, ‘Let’s all calm down.’
It didn’t work. I watched as Liam frogmarched Brodie out the front door. Meanwhile, Olivia started crying.
