Making Peace

by Fiona McCallum

  Hannah felt terrible. Rob had always been rock solid, right through everything. Had his feelings been ignored because he’d been so stoic and hadn’t been in floods of tears publicly? Because he was a man and they were expected to keep it together, at least on the outside?

  ‘It’s been so hard, Hannah, seeing his life end in an instant and … Oh god, I’m sorry. I know it’s nothing like what you went through, what you’re still going through.’

  ‘Rob, what you’re feeling, your suffering is no less relevant than mine.’

  ‘Thanks for saying that. You’re incredible.’

  ‘Well, I don’t know about that, but I do know you’ve had a big chunk taken out of your heart and your life too. I’m just so sorry I clearly haven’t been there enough for you.’

  ‘Jesus, Hann, I think you’ve had enough on your own plate. Please don’t …’

  God, everything really is connected, isn’t it? Everything, Hannah thought.

  ‘I just can’t live a lie anymore. In some ways I owe it to Tris to make the most of my life.’

  Oh god, Sammy, my darling Sammy. Hannah felt the sudden urge to grab her keys and run from the house, get in her car and go to Sam. But she had to hear Rob out if she was to help her friend through what was going to be a major upheaval and trauma.

  ‘I’m moving to Singapore tomorrow. To set up the office there for the company.’

  ‘Singapore? Tomorrow?’

  ‘Yes. Permanently. It’ll be easier for Sam to deal with all this and move on if I’m not living in the next suburb.’

  ‘But what about the boys?’

  ‘Yes, well, they’re the hardest part of all of this. I adore them.’

  Hannah felt the anger rise up in her. You’ll miss the boys more than Sam – my best friend? God, Sammy, why didn’t you tell me any of this?

  ‘So, how long has Sam known you’re leaving?’

  ‘Christmas morning was the anniversary, as you know only too well, and I woke up realising I just couldn’t do it for another day. She knew I was going to be splitting my time between Melbourne and Singapore. I think until Christmas Day I thought I could just carry on. But as I watched the boys opening their presents, I knew I wasn’t doing the right thing by them if I continued to live a lie.’

  So, instead you’d rather implode their lives, you selfish arse. Sam was just starting to get enough confidence to put herself out there and make a serious go of being an artist and you have to pull the rug out from under her? You bastard. But Hannah wouldn’t say any of this because while she felt devastated for her best friend, she couldn’t help but be in awe of a person who had denied himself all these years. She couldn’t understand what it was to be different and face up to a society that didn’t want to accept you, but she could imagine it took a lot of courage.

  A thought suddenly struck her. Christmas Day. The day she’d unexpectedly come back from New York, the day of the flood when Sam had turned up to check that Hannah’s house and Beth’s were okay. But, actually, had she really? Hannah remembered the strange look of surprise on Sam’s face – like she’d been sprung doing something she shouldn’t have been doing. Now she wouldn’t mind betting Sam had been hoping to escape to Hannah’s empty house and process Rob’s news, have a good cry out of sight, especially away from the twins. Oh, poor, poor Sammy. God, she was so strong. She didn’t break down and tell Hannah everything that day. Instead she had feigned her happiness at seeing her and focussed on Hannah and her trip.

  ‘I’ll still pay the mortgage and everything. Nothing will change there,’ Rob said.

  Hannah looked up, his words again jolting her from her thoughts.

  Nothing will change? Are you serious? You stupid, stupid man. But still she couldn’t be angry. She could be frustrated and disappointed, yes, but she couldn’t be truly angry with Rob. Dear, sweet Rob whom she loved very much. Why shouldn’t he follow his heart and be true to himself? Why should he be tied to a life that was a lie?

  ‘I’m so sorry, Hann. I love her, I really do, but …’ He put his face in his hands as the tears began to flow.

  Hannah leapt up and went to him. She gathered him in her arms and held him as he sobbed, big shoulder-shuddering, heart-wrenching sobs.

  ‘Oh, Rob,’ she said, as the tears slowly began to subside.

  ‘Hannah, I didn’t want to hurt anyone.’

  ‘I know.’ And she did know. After her Tristan, Rob was one of the kindest, sweetest souls she’d ever known.

  ‘Oh!’ Rob said as Holly hopped up beside him and wormed her way under his arms and into his lap where, after a bit of kneading, she curled up. Rob looked up with surprise at Hannah.

  Hannah smiled and shrugged. ‘She’s a sweetie. She’s trying to help. Holly, you look after Rob while I get us something to drink,’ she said, grateful for the distraction and opportunity to escape. They both needed to calm down.

  When Hannah came back into the lounge room with two mugs of sweet milky tea she saw Holly and the kittens in Rob’s lap enjoying his attention. He must have lifted the little ones up as they were too small to get up on their own. He looked up and smiled faintly. It brought a tear to Hannah’s eye to think how perceptive of human emotions Holly was and how she came to be in Hannah’s home in the first place.

  ‘Here you are,’ she said, passing Rob one of the mugs.

  ‘Thanks.’

  They sat in silence for a few moments. Hannah took comfort in the warmth of the tea in her mouth and through her hands around the mug.

  ‘I’m really worried about Sam,’ Rob said, and put his mug down on the coffee table. He stroked Holly and the kittens as they clambered all over him. Hannah stayed silent in the hope he’d continue. ‘She’s in complete denial that our marriage is over. I think she’s telling herself that I’ll be back and forth on weekends.’

  ‘But what about the boys?’

  ‘Of course I’ll be back to see them. I’m not sure how often. But Sam doesn’t seem to be grasping the full situation – the fact I’m gay.’

  ‘Maybe she’s just processing it more slowly. She has been very focussed on her art.’

  ‘And that won’t change, I hope. My support won’t change.’ He looked up at Hannah. ‘I don’t know what to do.’

  ‘Me neither,’ Hannah said. ‘I knew there was something going on, something wrong with Sam – she just hasn’t been herself since I got back. I guess I’m relieved she doesn’t have cancer or something serious like that. Or you. Or the boys.’ Though, a broken heart and a broken marriage are still pretty serious.

  ‘I’m worried that when I go and she can’t pretend any more she’ll fall apart. She’s going to need you, Hann.’

  Of course she’s going to fall apart. And, yes, I will be there, as she was for me.

  ‘I just wish she wasn’t so damned independent,’ Hannah said.

  ‘You’re going to have to make her confide in you, Hann.’ Hannah could see that ending badly. But she’d have to do something.

  ‘Here are my details in Singapore, if you need me. And, Hann, I hope you and I will still be friends. But if not, I will understand. Your duty is to Sam now,’ he said sadly. ‘I’d better go. I still have some things to organise.’ He picked Holly up and deposited her gently on the couch and then did the same with the kittens before standing up.

  Hannah stood and walked out with him feeling shocked, dazed and confused. At the door she opened her arms and they hugged each other tightly. As she waved to Rob when he drove off her tears began to fall. She’d probably just lost one of her best friends. She knew that. He was right, her loyalty and duty were to Sam.

  Hannah closed the door on the world and went and sat back into the lounge room. She picked the gorgeous little kittens up from the couch, held them to her and nuzzled them as she sat down. She felt bereft and helpless, the likes of which she hadn’t felt since the police had left after delivering the news that she’d lost her husband and both parents in a crash with a truck. Holly peered up at her, with seeming
ly a look of concern etched on her little face.

  ‘Oh, Holly,’ Hannah cried, and began sobbing. ‘What a mess. Thank goodness I have you.’

  Chapter Six

  Hannah felt nervous as she drove to Sam’s house. Rob would be on a plane by now. Would Sam crave some company, finally confide in her best friend, or would she be angry at the intrusion? But despite her fear, Hannah would not talk herself out of this and go back home.

  Her finger trembled as she reached out to push the doorbell. She heard the chime echo in the hall and then the scrambling of dog claws and little footsteps on the floorboards. Hannah took a deep breath. The door opened a crack and two faces appeared in the gap.

  ‘Hello, Olly and Ethan.’

  ‘Hello, Auntie Hannah,’ the six-year-old twins said in unison.

  ‘How are you?’

  Before they had a chance to answer, she heard Sam’s voice boom, ‘Don’t you dare let the dogs out!’

  At that moment two pale chestnut cocker spaniels pushed into the gap. Hannah reached down and just managed to grab their collars in time.

  ‘No you don’t,’ she said, as she held the wriggling dogs.

  ‘Phew,’ said Ethan.

  ‘Thanks, Auntie Hann,’ Oliver said, and opened the door wide. Hannah dragged the dogs inside and made sure the front door was closed before letting go of the collars. ‘You’re a lifesaver,’ Oliver said in what Hannah liked to call his old-man voice. From early on both boys had seemed to have very old souls, Oliver a little more so. ‘Mum’s a bit grumpy.’

  ‘Dad’s gone to swing a paw. We’ll visit sometime,’ Ethan said nonchalantly as Hannah silently corrected, Singapore.

  ‘Would you like a hot drink?’ Oliver asked with big wide eyes.

  ‘Yes, please, that would be lovely,’ Hannah said, and followed the boys and the dogs down to the kitchen as she wondered where Sam was and if she was happy about the boys opening the front door. Oh well, too late now. At least she wasn’t a stranger.

  ‘Sorry, but you’ll have to do it yourself, we’re not allowed to touch the kettle,’ Oliver said, settling himself on a stool at the bench.

  ‘Could you make me a Milo too, please? Mummy said she would but then she forgot,’ Ethan said, settling at the bench beside his brother.

  ‘I certainly can,’ Hannah said, smiling at their cute innocence. She might have laughed at their precociousness if she were there under different circumstances.

  She noticed two bowls with a spoon in each on the bench beside the sink. There were no tell-tale signs of milk or cereal. ‘Have you guys had breakfast?’ she asked.

  ‘Not yet,’ Ethan said.

  ‘Mum’s a bit all over the place,’ Oliver explained sagely. Hannah really nearly did laugh then.

  ‘And busy,’ Ethan added.

  ‘Are you hungry?’

  ‘A little,’ Oliver said.

  ‘I’m okay,’ Ethan said. ‘But I really would like a Milo.’

  ‘Right. Got it.’ Yes, get on with it, Hannah! ‘Oliver, would you like a Milo too?’

  ‘Yes, please.’

  ‘Hang on, you’d really better start with breakfast.’ Hannah grabbed a box of cereal from the pantry and tipped some into each bowl. She poured in the milk and handed a bowl to each of the boys.

  ‘Oh, hi,’ Sam said, wandering in. ‘I thought I heard you. Thanks for sorting out breakfast, and making sure the dogs didn’t get out.’ Hannah was pleased to see Sam was not in her dressing gown – she took it as a good sign. Although, for all she knew, Sam could be in the same clothes as yesterday.

  ‘No worries. They want Milos – if you’re okay with that?’

  ‘Yeah, whatever,’ Sam said, waving a hand. ‘Sorry, I’m a bit …’

  ‘All over the place,’ both boys chimed in together.

  ‘Yes, I am. So don’t test me,’ Sam warned.

  Hannah smiled to herself at the scene before her. She loved being a part of it. If only the little family had stayed intact. How much did the boys know? Hannah wondered. Sam might seem laidback on some fronts, but she was very protective of her darling boys when it came to subjecting them to deep and meaningful adult conversation.

  ‘Tea or coffee?’ Sam asked, joining Hannah at the bench where she was making the boys’ drinks.

  ‘Tea, thanks. Still one large scoop of Milo and half milk and half water?’ Hannah asked.

  ‘Yep. And then zap for thirty seconds in the microwave.’

  ‘Here you are,’ Hannah said, a minute later when she put the plastic mugs down in front of the boys.

  ‘Now, boys, put your empty bowls in the sink,’ Sam said, ‘and have a big sip of your drinks, then take them carefully out into the back garden and play with Oofy and Inky. Mummy needs to talk to Auntie Hannah.’

  ‘Okay.’ Hannah and Sam watched as the boys, followed by the dogs, made their way outside.

  ‘And please close the door behind you.’

  Hannah smiled at the well-trained children as they stacked their bowls, then Oliver handed Ethan his cup to hold and proceeded to carefully close the glass bi-fold door behind them. Oliver sat down on the step outside and Ethan handed him both mugs before sitting down beside his brother and accepting one of the cups. Priceless.

  ‘Thank god it’s a good day in the behaviour department,’ Sam said.

  ‘How is everything otherwise?’ Hannah asked, taking the opportunity.

  ‘Fine. I’m trying to get as much done as I can for the next market.’

  ‘Sam, I know about Rob leaving.’ Hannah could hold it in no longer.

  ‘I know. He told me he called in to see you.’

  ‘And …?’

  ‘And what? He’s gone to Singapore, and I’m here with the kids.’

  ‘Sam, it’s me, your best friend who you can talk to about anything. Talk to me.’

  ‘There’s not a lot to say, Hann. It is what it is,’ Sam said with a shrug.

  Hannah was wide-eyed. ‘How can you be so calm? I’d probably be throwing things.’

  ‘Well, I guess I kind of am – I’ve done some pretty wild abstracts. Do you want to see?’

  ‘Sure.’

  Hannah got up and followed Sam out to the garage off the kitchen, part of which served as her studio. As she went, she reminded herself for the umpteenth time that this was about Sam and not her. Sam was free to react how she wished – or not. But Hannah was worried. This wasn’t normal, was it? Sam turned on the light.

  ‘Gosh, you have been busy,’ Hannah said, looking at several small colourful abstracts placed along the benchtop, leaning against the walls. Far from looking like the work of an angry or depressed artist, they were the epitome of joy in their pinks, purples, oranges and greens. ‘They’re lovely.’

  ‘Hey, look at these,’ Sam said, lifting a sheet and revealing a baking tray with around a dozen colourful cartoon-looking figures on it. ‘I thought I might as well try and cash in on the silly Pokémon Go craze if it’s still going. So very post-modern of me. Anyway, making them has kept me sane,’ she added quietly.

  Hannah didn’t know what post-modern meant, but was relieved to hear some reality lurking below the surface. ‘Whatever it takes, huh?’ she said gently.

  ‘Thirty bucks a pop. What do you think?’

  ‘I think they’re great. Perhaps a bit cheap, though, with all the work you’ve put in. Hopefully the boy from last week will bring all his classmates along.’

  ‘Yeah. Fingers crossed. You want to know what the scary thing about them is?’

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘Apparently it’s our age group who are really into it – the kids who played with the original Pokémons all grown up.’

  ‘Golly, you have been doing your research. I never knew anything about them.’

  ‘No, me neither. Oh, look. I’ve even made the explanatory cards as Jasmine suggested. So clever of her. No more answering the same dumb questions over and over. I’ll just pretend I’m mute and point to a card,’ Sam said with an
attempt at a grin.

  Hannah read the one for the old lady figurines with the bright accessories:

  ‘Ageing gracefully.’

  A timeless keepsake to add a touch of elegance and a splash of colour to any contemporary or traditional space.

  Handmade glazed ceramic

  By Samantha Barrow

  Commissions available.

  ‘Perfect,’ she said. ‘You’ve been very busy. I just hope you’re not overdoing it.’

  ‘Hann, I’m okay. Really.’

  ‘Great, because I’d be a basket case.’

  ‘No you wouldn’t. You weren’t all last year. Anyway, I have to keep it together for the boys. I don’t have a choice,’ she said with a weary sigh.

  ‘You’re allowed to be sad, cry, and talk it over.’

  ‘Honestly, Hann, if I start I might never stop – crying or talking about it. And it’s not going to stop Rob being gay or my marriage being over. Right now I’m just so grateful for having the market and my art to focus on. Otherwise, I might fall apart.’

  ‘That would be okay, you know.’

  ‘My first priority is the boys. It’s traumatic enough their dad leaving.’

  ‘So what have you told them?’

  ‘That Daddy has gone to work overseas and we won’t see him for a long time. What else could I say? They’re fine. At the moment their worlds revolve around Milo and fart jokes.’

  ‘Hmm.’ Sam was right. Hannah wouldn’t have a clue how she’d do it differently. Sam was their mother. Only she could know exactly how to handle it.

  ‘I just have to tackle each step that comes up, as it does. It’s all I can think to do. And keep the kids’ home life and routine as normal as I can. Thankfully, having a creative mother means normal is a pretty fluid concept.’

  ‘There’s my clever, witty friend,’ Hannah said, putting an arm around Sam’s shoulder.

  ‘I know Rob thinks I’m in denial. That’s what he told you, right?’

  Hannah nodded.

  ‘I’m not. I’m in shock and disbelief. But I’m fully aware it’s over and I’m now alone to raise the boys. He’ll occasionally swan in laden with gifts and appear the best dad on the planet for a few hours until he leaves again and life resumes. I know how it works and it’s not something I ever wanted. But as I said, it is what it is. I think that’s becoming my mantra.’