by Bree Verity
“On the inside and out.” Jack smiled a quiet, proud smile. Faith was a great kid. Oh, she had her moments, but all in all, he was happy with how she was shaping up. “The twins, on the other hand, look and act exactly like their mama.”
“I hope you’re beatin’ that out of them.”
“Reen!”
“I was jokin’.” Her conciliatory tone mollified him, even when she continued, “Still, regular beatin’s might have some good effect.”
“And that explains why I don’t ship them off to Houston for holidays.”
Maureen gave a thoughtful sigh. “I wish you would. I miss you all so much.”
“And we miss you. Specially your good advice.”
“Don’t think you can charm me with your silver tongue, Jackson Gordon Duncan. I know your tricks.” But Maureen seemed to be happier than when he had first called her, so Jack pushed on.
“Can I just ask you one piece of advice?”
After a long suffering sigh, Maureen replied, “Shoot.”
“If she had a bad home life as a kid, and when I asked about it she didn’t tell me, I only found out by accident, what does that mean? For our relationship?”
“I’m not sure I understand the question.”
“Do you think her poor upbringing would affect me and the kids? You know, in the long run?”
Maureen was silent for a moment, before responding, “You are such a snob.”
“I am not!”
“Oh, brother, you are so. Listen to yourself. Just because she didn't have it as good as you growing up, you think perhaps she might be not as good or something?” Maureen seemed mildly outraged. “Is that the measure of a person, Jack? Their background and upbringing? Or should it be about how they are now?”
Jack’s first instinct was to refute Maureen’s suggestions. After all, he wasn’t a snob, he was just looking out for the welfare of his family. Then a little voice in his head said, But Susan had a similar upbringing to yours, and she’s hardly treated you all kindly.
He couldn’t help but defend himself. “But studies show that kids from broken homes tend to be more aggressive, and have difficulty with relationships.”
“Seriously? Are you listenin’ to yourself? You’re the divorced one, not her.”
Jack’s mouth snapped shut. He hadn’t thought of that. Suddenly his stomach plummeted as he thought about how he had behaved toward her and he unsuccessfully tried to suppress a groan.
A suspicious tone crept into Maureen’s voice. “What have you done, Jack?”
“Nothing.”
“Bullspit.”
“I… Maybe had a disagreement with her and left her.”
“Left her?”
“In the street.”
“In the street?”
“Crying.”
Jack hurried to fill the silence.
“But she warn’t cryin’ ‘bout us.” Jack was quick to explain. “That was about her mama.”
“What about her mama?”
“She has cancer. Her brother saw her out and told her. They don’t really get along. Desiree and her mama.” He knew he was babbling so, with an effort, he stemmed the words and waited for Maureen’s reply.
Maureen spoke slowly. “So let me make sure I got this straight. The lady was cryin’ about her mother, who she just found out has cancer, and you left her in the street? That’s the lowest thing I’ve heard of in a long, long time.”
Jack’s palms started to sweat and his heart beat against his chest. His mouth went dry. He knew it. He knew it absolutely. He had acted like a self-centered asshole. He had known it as soon as he started to stalk away, but didn’t know how to turn around and apologize. His conscience had plagued him for the past two days, berating him over and over again for walking away from, not only Desiree, but any human being who had just had the shock of finding out a family member had cancer. Heck, he could remember his own response when they found out Uncle Leo had cancer, and they weren’t even close. Maureen had gotten it spot on. He was a dismal excuse for a human being. He scrubbed a hand through his hair, creating a disheveled mess, and his next words came out as a croak.
“What do I do, Maureen?”
“I don’t even know where to start. You march up to that poor lady’s door and you apologize, that’s what. The lady deserves the mother of all apologies from you, and even then there’s not much chance she’ll take you back. Why would she? You’ve been an arrogant a-hole.”
“I know, alright. You don’t need to keep tellin’ me.”
“Well, apparently I do, otherwise you do things like this.”
“We didn’t actually break up.”
“Oh, brother, you totally did.”
“I told her I needed time. To think.”
And then the realization hit him like a physical blow. He wanted her in his life. To hell with previous relationships and family problems and whatever else might crop up. He needed her.
And he had probably just taken the quickest road to breaking up with her that ever existed.
All the feelings in his body came together and he leaned over and vomited in the kitchen sink. Between his heaves and his eyes watering, he could still hear Maureen’s tinny voice over the phone saying, “Jack? Jack, are you alright?” But he couldn’t answer her, not until his sandwich and tonight’s pasta had exited his stomach.
He grabbed a glass from the sink, filled it and took a sip of water then returned to the phone. “I’m okay, Reen. I’ve just realised what the hell I’ve done.”
“Oh, Jackie. I’m sorry.”
“No, it’s all me. What an dad-blasted fool I am.”
“Yes, you are. And I reckon unless you go round and apologize to that little lady quick smart, that mistake is going to burn you for the rest of your days.”
“I can’t.” Frustration, and a raw throat from vomiting, had Jack’s words coming out as a growl. “I don’t have anyone to look after the kids.”
“Call her.”
“I can’t.” Jack whispered, his eyes filling with tears. “I don’t even know where to start, Reen. She must think I’m lower than a snake in the grass.”
“Oh, I’m sure she does. But there’s still time, Jack.”
“Lord, I hope so. I can’t afford to lose her.”
“She must be something special.”
“She is. She’s outspoken and defiant and argumentative and smart and charming and swears like a trooper and tells it how it is…”
“Sounds like a keeper.”
“She is. Definitely a keeper. And I swear to God, I’m going to do all I can to keep her.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN.
It was unusual, but not unheard of, for staff to be summoned to a meeting during recess. Usually it was to advise teachers about the behavior of a certain student in their care, but Desiree hadn’t had any bad kids lately, so she wasn’t sure what the meeting was about.
And she didn’t really care. She was so drained, all she wanted was the biggest coffee she could lay her hands on, and ten minutes of quiet. Her stomach was queasy, and not even higher-than-recommended doses of Panadol was denting the headache pounding away in her skull. She almost didn’t come into work today, but reasoned with herself that all she would do otherwise was to sit and home and mull over how her life had turned to shit, and she didn’t really want to do that either. So she had pushed the new colored clothes to the back of her wardrobe, returned to her comfortable black gear, and gone to work.
She and six other teachers crowded into the Year 10 coordinators office. Leanne Young was competent and caring, and the Year 10’s, most of them negotiating the move from childhood into young adults, were quick to approach her with their problems. Desiree was stunned to see tears in her eyes, and the gnawing in her stomach grew almost painful.
Leanne’s tone was serious. “I really don’t know how to say this in a good way, so I’m just going to come right out and say it, okay? I got a call from Nathan Morton’s mother. Nathan has passed away
.” Her words choked off on a sob and she blinked rapidly, her chin shaking.
Desiree stood open mouthed, her thoughts in a whirl. Passed away? Nathan?
“When? How?” She asked the questions along with several of the other teachers who had found their voices.
“Last night. He… They’re calling it suicide.”
Desiree closed her eyes, her skin turning clammy. She thought she didn’t have any more tears to cry, but obviously she was wrong, as they slowly leaked from her closed eyes and rolled down her face. Her first thought, I knew it, felt like it tore deep ridges into her heart. It was no vindication, rather it was a cry from deep inside, a wail that, even though she tried, she had been powerless to help the damaged teen. It was an anguished sob, drawn from deep within her, carrying with it all the hopes and fears that she held for Nathan, now meaningless nothings.
She could hear the clamor of hushed voices and tears from around her, loud because the room was so small, but she couldn’t comprehend what was being said, or who was saying it. Her grief was instantly so profound, so deep, so angry.
Through gritted teeth she ground out, “This is all her fault. She wouldn’t listen.” But Desiree was heartsick too, berating herself that she should have done more, that maybe, if she had forced Mrs Morton to listen, that Nathan would still be alive.
Someone placed their hand on her arm, and Desiree’s eyes flew open. Leanne stood before her, a sad smile on her face, her dark eyes filled with tears. She opened her arms, and Desiree stepped into them, hugging her hard and sobbing deeply. Leanne rubbed her back, whispering so that only she could hear, “You did what you could, Des. We’re only the teachers. We can only do so much.”
“He had so much to live for.” Desiree’s words were punctuated by hiccups. “He was going on X Factor.” She knew the words sounded foolish now, but she couldn’t comprehend how someone so talented would never get the chance to shine.
“I know. He was a special kid.” Leanne took hold of Desiree’s shoulders and gently pushed her out to arm’s length so she could look her in the face. “He really liked you. When I spoke to him, he mentioned how appreciative he was that you wanted to do something.”
“They why wasn’t something done?” Desiree’s voice rose, as her anger started to overtake her grief. “How can this kid be dead when we knew he was in danger?” Desiree could see the others in the room either blatantly staring, or eying her off warily, like she was some kind of wild animal that could charge at any time. She heard murmured agreement, and increased sobbing from one corner of the room.
“We did all we were legally able to, Des.”
“It’s not enough. Not anywhere near enough.” She shocked herself with the insane edge to her shout that she could hear, and she instantly quietened down, running a shaking hand across her face and down to rest gently around her throat. Her next words were a whimper. “We failed him.”
Desiree knew that Leanne’s answering nod was all the confirmation she would get. It was important to ensure there was no acknowledgment of failure of duty on the school’s behalf. It made Desiree seethe for a moment, just before all the energy deserted her body, and she slumped.
She tried to tell Leanne that she couldn’t go back to her classes, but the words refused to come out in any intelligible order. Despite that, Leanne seemed to understand what Desiree wanted to say, because she nodded. “Go home. We’ll take care of things here. And there’ll be a counseling service set up too, I’ll give you a call later on to let you know the details.”
Desiree stumbled out of the stuffy office and into the warm sunshine of mid-morning. She wanted to scream as she felt the rays on her face, wanted to ask whatever being was in charge why he let the sun shine, when he couldn’t even care for one broken, helpless teenager.
She made her way to her own office, not even noticing the students passing her by, hurrying to class. Thankfully no one stopped her, or even said hello. She didn’t know how she would respond to them.
Grabbing her bags, she walked heavily to where Trudy was parked in the staff car park. She got in the car, and just sat and stared for what felt like an eternity. Then she sighed, turned on the ignition and drove home.
At least that’s what she assumed happened. When she arrived at her house, she had little memory of how she got there. She unlocked the front door and put her bags down on the table as usual, then took herself over to the comfort of her couch, and switched on the television. She sat there for hours, unseeing, while she waited for the rest of her world to end their day.
She desperately needed to talk to Penny. Penny would know what to say to make the hurt go away. Penny could be depended on in times like these.
She wouldn’t call Lydia. With the way things were left between them, Lydia would be just as likely to slam the phone down in her ear. And Desiree didn’t think her fragile emotions would survive that kind of abuse.
So she waited, daytime television entering the edges of her consciousness through her eyes and ears, only to drift away as it encountered the outside edges of her tortured brain. She churned over the things she had broken just that week. Lydia. Jack. Her mother. Her brother. And now Nathan. It was like the entire cosmos was gearing up just to keep kicking her, every time she tried to get up again. And then, she blamed herself for everything. She should have been kinder to Lydia. She should have told Jack the truth from the start. She should have spent more time with her family, and told them how much she loved them, just for being them. And she should have done much more for Nathan. So, so much more.
She lost herself for hours in self-recrimination. She received a call from the school in the middle of the afternoon, but she let the phone go to message – there was no way she wanted to hear a voice from there again today. She lost count of the number of times she checked the hour on her phone. She knew Penny would be home by five-thirty, and at that time, exactly on the dot of half-past five, she rang Penny’s number.
“Hello, you’ve reached Penny. Leave a message.”
A twist of panic and deep, deep loneliness squeezed around Desiree’s heart. Penny wasn’t there. She tried the line again, only to hear the same message. What was she going to do now? Her one lifeline wasn’t there.
Then, she thought of someone else to talk to.
Jack.
With no thought at all about the way their last date had ended, she dialed his number. She felt the panic fade away, and a sharp sense of relief passed over her when he picked up.
“Desiree.”
She heard a note of relief in his voice, as well as something else, but she was in no mood to analyze.
“Jack, I need…” Her words broke off as she was swamped by a wave of emotion. Her misery swirled together with rage, upset, anger and distress, and she sobbed once into the phone before she managed to swallow the tears back again. She tried to speak again, but nothing would come out without tears, and she was fighting to keep them in check.
But it seemed that Jack heard the sadness and tension in her voice from just her one word. “What’s happened, darlin? Are you okay?”
She couldn’t stop her lip from trembling. “Nathan’s dead.”
“Nathan? The kid from the band?”
Desiree nodded, then realised Jack couldn’t see her. “Yes.” The word was a cry for help, and Jack seemed intuitively to know what she needed.
“I’ll be right there.”
Somewhere in the recesses of Desiree’s mind, she realised that Jack would have to leave work to come to her, and that he would be a while fighting the peak hour traffic. Before Jack could hang up, she said, “Can you keep talking to me?” Her soft, scared tone confused her. That was not Desiree. Desiree was tough and resilient. Desiree was…
Just what was Desiree?
Who is Desiree?
Who am I?
Her meandering thoughts came back to what Jack was saying.
“… but I’ll call you back as soon as I get to the car, okay?” She could hear him moving about, c
losing drawers and shutting down his computer.
“Okay.” She heard Jack ring off, and sat, staring at her handset until his number flashed up again.
She answered the call, and before she could even say hello, Jack said, “Are you alright?”
“No.”
“When did you find out?”
“This morning.”
It seemed that monosyllabic answers were all she could manage, without her voice giving in to the tears that were just hovering below the surface.
“Okay, honey, well, I’m on my way, but the traffic is awful on Oxford Street and gettin’ on to the freeway, so I might be a while. But I’ll keep talkin’ to you. I’m on the hands-free.”
Desiree smiled wanly. “Good.”
“So, will I tell you how my day was today?”
“Yes.”
For the next half an hour, Jack went into a detailed explanation of how his day had panned out. And while Desiree couldn’t have told anyone what Jack said, just the comforting tone of his voice, and the constant chatter kept her from breaking down. Jack’s accent seemed to calm her, the familiar twang making her smile when she heard it. She lay down on her side with her legs pulled up and her head on the arm of the couch.
“Desiree? You still with me?”
“Yes.”
“Oh good. You went silent and I thought you’d gone.” She could hear the relief in his voice.
“No, I’m still here.” She closed her eyes and, to her surprise, yawned.
“Keeping you awake am I?” Jack’s chuckle seemed to help loosen the hold on her heart, and she took a tentative deep breath.
“Maybe.”
“Alright, honey, I’m just getting to your street now, so I’m going to hang up, and I’ll be inside with you in just a shake.”
“Thanks Jack.”
The phone call ended, but Desiree didn’t move. She felt so weary, so bone-deep tired that all she wanted to do was sleep. She didn’t move until Jack rapped on her door.
Hauling herself to her feet she shuffled to the entryway and opened the door. Jack was inside in an instant, and she was enfolded in his arms an instant after that.
