* * *
After Isabelle showered and changed into her pyjamas, the tight sickliness in her throat had loosened. Chris ushered the beef ribs inside on a metal tray, covered in aluminium foil to keep them warm while they rested.
Isabelle’s empty stomach growled. Maybe that’s all it was—hunger confused as nausea.
The three of them sat down to eat. She eyed the food. Baked potatoes and a big garden salad. “This looks delicious.”
“Smell okay?”
She lowered her nose closer to the ribs and inhaled. “Beautiful.”
“Sure does,” Juliette said. “I’m starving.”
Chris grinned, gestured to the food. “Well, dig in. There’s plenty there.”
Since Chris had moved in, there had been an unexpected but wonderful change to the dynamic in that house. Men brought a different energy, which was a new experience for Isabelle. Especially someone like Chris who was eternally laidback and unflustered. He marched along with life at the same speed, no matter the rhythm of the circumstance.
Isabelle cut into a beef rib and forked some into her mouth. It was tender, smoky, gamey and covered in spices. “Yum,” she said with a grin and reached over the table, resting her hand on top of her husband’s.
“I agree,” Juliette said. “Next time you’re cooking, let me know because I’d like to watch the whole process, so I can learn how to do it.”
Chris sat taller, chest puffed. “Sure. The next Saturday I’m home, we’ll cook a brisket.”
Juliette finished the mouthful she was chewing. “You’re on.”
* * *
Isabelle headed to bed early. She could not keep her eyes open any longer. After showering, Chris joined her. He always came to bed when she did. Another Chris-generated difference in her life, but one that increased the magnetic pull between them.
He drew her into his arms and kissed her lips. His blue eyes met hers. “Still not well, hey?”
“Just a little tired.” She rolled out of his embrace and stared at the ceiling, frowning.
“You’re worried?”
“A little,” she whispered.
“About what?”
“About the potential that I could be pregnant.” She glanced at him. “About what that would mean for us.”
“It means we’ll be parents. What else could it mean?”
She sighed. “I’m worried about how you’d react to that. You’re” – she gestured to him – “older than me. We’ve never discussed children. I assumed we were both on the same page that our time for such things was over. Yet here we are with the real possibility.”
He reached for her, a gentle hand to her chin, nudging her to look at him. “Issy, I’d be over the moon if you were pregnant.”
She blinked, lips falling open. “You would?”
He smiled. “You have no idea how happy it would make me.”
She sat up then, ran fingers through her hair. “I thought you’d be… I don’t know… angry?”
His brow furrowed. “I’m not sure how I ever gave you that impression.”
She shook her head. “I’m not sure either. Maybe I just assumed. But you’d be happy?”
“Extremely.”
She rested back on her pillows, smiling. “Well, that’s a big relief.” The last thing she ever wanted was to raise another child on her own. But abortion wasn’t in her nature either. She knew the love of a child. The joy they brought, even when, because of circumstance, there were more doubts than hopes that a baby could be a blessing. “But no use getting ahead of ourselves. I may just have a stomach bug.”
He kissed her cheek. “I’ll buy a test tomorrow, so we rule it out, okay?”
She smiled. “Sure. Thank you.”
“Now go to sleep,” he said. “And get a good night’s rest.”
As Chris attempted to fall asleep, his chest was tight with excitement. His stomach looped with hope. More than anything, he ached to hear from Isabelle’s lips tomorrow that the result of her pregnancy test was positive.
Chapter 8
Maddison slowly sat up and rolled her legs over the side of the bed until her feet touched the soft carpet beneath. A deep throbbing ache in her muscles. She winced as she got to her feet. Her mind was gluey, hazy from the drugs, but was screaming at her to get busy—go to the gym before the kids woke, head out for a run, something—but walking was unbearable. Anything more strenuous and her thigh muscles would collapse. She wasn’t sure once she hit the ground if she would be able to claw her way back up.
Ben was in the kitchen, sitting on a stool at the breakfast bar, a coffee to his right, and The Courier-Mail spread out before him. He still liked the real thing—the scent of paper and ink, the ritual of leafing through the pages. His brain worked better with print; it hadn’t rewired quickly enough to take in digital articles.
He lifted his gaze when she shuffled to the coffee machine. “You feeling okay?”
She shook her head, too tired and too sore to don her façade of ‘everything’s fine’. “I can’t bear to tell the kids they have to go to a new school.”
Ben closed the paper. Slouched. “I know. They were settled and changing will be disruptive. But, you know, they’re kids. Good kids. Happy, sociable kids. They’ll make new friends, and, in a few months, they’ll feel settled again.”
Tears glossed Maddison’s eyes. She was a terrible mother. As much as she tried not to be, she always screwed it up. Never usually to that extent, though. “I’m going to talk to Sabrina today. See if I can change her mind.”
Ben’s neck and shoulder muscles clenched. A tic in his jaw. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”
“I’ve got nothing to lose.”
Sabrina could get the police involved, he thought, but he didn’t say it out loud, not wanting to add to Maddison’s worries. It bemused him how she couldn’t understand that what she had done yesterday crossed huge boundaries. “Leave it alone, Maddison. There’s no coming back from it. Let’s just concentrate on enrolling the kids in a new school. The gym has cover for the whole day, so I can sit the kids down once they’re awake and let them know what’s happened. I can drop by the school this afternoon to collect their things. Who knows, it may work better for them in the long run. Breanna always says how good North-West Primary is. All three of her kids go there—”
“I don’t give a damn what Breanna has to say about anything!” She threw her empty cup in the sink. “I’m their mother. She has zero input.”
He lifted both hands, suppressed his sigh. “Fine. I was just saying.” He should have known better than to talk about any of their female staff outside of work. No greater trigger in that household.
“I’m going to shower, then I’m heading to the school to see if there’s something I can do. I’ll get on my knees and beg if that’s what it takes.” She strode away, mumbling under her breath, “Sabrina Collins would love to see that, wouldn’t she?”
“I’ll come too then.”
“I don’t need a babysitter,” she snapped from over her shoulder. “Besides, someone needs to stay here with Ruby and Riley.”
He pursed his lips. If yesterday’s performance was any indication, his wife most definitely did need a sitter, but he wasn’t about to tip her over the edge again by admitting that.
* * *
Maddison’s cheeks were hot, blotchy, as she sat in the principal’s office across from Sabrina. Two plastic bags full of Ruby and Riley’s schoolbooks and stationery lay at her feet. Her throat was constricted, achy, her stomach a tensing mass of nerves.
Sabrina’s obvious disdain unsettled Maddison, but she remained steady because her children’s happiness was on the line.
“Firstly, I want to apologise very sincerely for what I said yesterday. It was not okay, and I do not feel proud of it.”
Sabrina frowned. “I would hope not. As it was, I had to talk Mr and Mrs Rankin out of involving the police. They knew about your past, so they were kind enough to show some understan
ding.”
Maddison cringed. Gladstone wasn’t that small but trying to hide anything was impossible. The friendship chains were too incestuous, and gossip spread like an STI at a swingers’ party.
“There’s no excuse for how you behaved. In all my years as principal, I’ve never witnessed anything like that. I’ve had parents punch each other in the hall. I’ve had kids scream at me. I’ve had parents scream at me, but never have I had a mother threaten to gut a nine-year-old child.”
The nest of nerves in Maddison’s belly expanded. “I apologise.” Her words were weak and soft.
Sabrina shifted in her seat, gritted her teeth. “I accept your apology.”
Maddison swallowed hard, trying to loosen the painful contraction of her throat. “I hate that Ruby and Riley are being punished for something that wasn’t their fault. Is it possible that they can stay here?”
Sabrina’s eyes widened. “The safety of my other students is paramount. I don’t take any pleasure in your children being the inadvertent victims of this decision, but that rests on your shoulders.”
“I would have expected a little more compassion.”
An eyebrow rose. “Likewise.”
“My children have been through so much. They can’t take this—”
“They’re both very resilient,” Sabrina said. “I’m sure they’ll do well in whichever school you find them a placement.”
Maddison leaned forward, ignoring the strain on her muscles as she rested her elbows on the desk and splayed her hands on the tabletop. “Please, Sabrina. I can’t do this to them.”
“I think this is more about you than them. They’ll be fine. But, as for you, I recommend getting some professional help.” Sabrina rose to her feet, walked around the desk to the office door and opened it. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a very big job I need to keep on with.”
Maddison implored Sabrina with her gaze. “Is there nothing I can say to change your mind?”
“We have policies outlining our zero-tolerance stance on the type of behaviour you displayed yesterday. Good luck with finding your children a new placement elsewhere.”
Maddison slowly stood, lifting the bags as she did, pain pulsing through her body. When she came closer to Sabrina, she lowered her voice to a harsh whisper. “You’re a nasty piece of work, aren’t you? See that’s the problem with women like you. You get a little bit of insignificant power and you think you’re better than everyone—”
“Get out!” Sabrina roared, her face turning bright red.
“Calm the hell down. I’m leaving anyway.” Maddison straightened her skirt, held her head high and shuffled down the hall with as much dignity as she could, considering the blades twisting in her muscles with every step.
She didn’t look at the smug-faced receptionist as she pushed through the doors, out into the school carpark. Only when she was in her car, hands gripping the steering wheel, did she scream at the top of her lungs until her throat was on fire. Anguish bled out in a gush of tears.
* * *
When Maddison arrived home, she didn’t go inside to face Ben or the kids until she was composed. She squeezed eyedrops into each eye to banish the tear-stained redness. A trick she’d learned over the years trying to hide the pain that lived inside her bones.
She was fast finding that anger was more difficult to stifle. But, then again, anger was merely a loud, sharp manifestation of suppressed fear or emotional pain. The physical presentation of anger didn’t hurt as much as the darker, more intense emotions causing it. Anger was a great tool to avoid the storm beneath, but it possessed its own unique, harsh consequences.
Ben was sitting with the children at the breakfast bar. Each was eating cereal and milk from a bowl. Ruby and Riley were dressed well, hair brushed neatly, but in day clothes, not school uniforms as they should be if not for Maddison.
“How did you go?” Ben asked.
She shook her head, forced a tight smile so as not to worry the children.
Ruby’s shoulders slumped in time with her harrumph. “Why do I have to go to a new school?”
Ben leaned across the bench and patted Ruby’s hand. “I told you why, honey.”
She forcefully threw her spoon into her near-empty bowl. The metal clanged against the china. “I didn’t do anything wrong, though.”
Maddison rushed to Ruby, held her head to her chest and stroked her hair. “I know, sweetie. Sometimes these things happen, and we don’t like it, but we just have to get on with it anyway. But none of this was your fault. Not one bit.”
It was Maddison’s fault, but she couldn’t admit that out loud. She may have lost faith in herself, but she did not need her children to do the same. They needed strength and stability and a leader at the helm they could trust.
Riley wrinkled his nose. “I don’t want to go to a new school. I didn’t even get to say goodbye to my friends.”
“We can invite them over after school to play anytime, mate,” Ben said.
Riley crossed his arms and pouted. “Still not fair.”
No, life was not fair. If Maddison had learned that earlier and more gradually, perhaps that truth may not have been so overwhelming. Maddison stood up taller and clapped her hands. “All right, enough of this moping around. We’ve got the day off, let’s go to the beach for a swim.”
Ruby and Riley’s eyes widened. They tried so hard to stop from smiling, but their glee won in the end.
“Yess!” Riley said, punching the air above his head.
Ruby rolled her eyes at her big brother and grinned. “Sure, I guess we can go to the beach.”
* * *
From outside observers, the Brooks family looked like any other happy family as they spent the morning in the sun at Tannum Sands Main Beach. The water held an all-year-round sub-tropical warmth. For hours they ventured in and out of the blue-green ocean, jumping over waves and paddling deep. On the beach, they moulded the hot sand into shapes as the briny breeze blew their hair around their faces.
The kids slept on the thirty-minute drive back into town, their heads lolling against the windows, mouths open. They were bright-eyed again the moment Ben parked the car in the garage. He sent them to the shower to wash the sunscreen and sand away and dress into dry, clean clothes because that afternoon, they had their first interview with a prospective primary school.
Ten minutes before they were to leave, Ben went to his bedroom for a belt and found Maddison sitting on the end of the bed, face in her hands.
He sat beside her, and she flinched at the unexpected intrusion.
“Oh,” she said. “I didn’t realise you were here.”
“Let me handle the school interview, okay?” Maddison parted her lips to intercept, but Ben kept on. “You relax. Take a bath or nap or do some yoga.”
“You don’t trust me?” she asked.
He grimaced and bit back his sharp reply. “That’s not it at all. I think you’re dealing with a lot and I’d like to take this burden off you.”
Maddison nodded, knowing she had hit a wall. That happened from time to time, but more and more lately. “Fine.”
He leaned in to kiss her head, exactly like he would have in the earlier years of their marriage. Maddison shifted away and stood before his lips could meet her skin.
A deep, resounding throb in the centre of his chest. He missed the intimacy of that small act. He missed the willingness she had once shown him. He had forgotten how her body felt against his.
With a sigh, he got to his feet and strode silently out of the room.
Chapter 9
Chris went to the chemist after Isabelle had left for her salon. He scanned the shelves for a pregnancy test, found one that said all the right things on the box, and headed to the counter to pay for it. His heart was racing. All his efforts were used to hide the excitement that dwelled inside him from reaching his face as the young check-out clerk processed the transaction.
When home, he tucked the pregnancy test beside his rows of unde
rwear and socks in the drawer Isabelle had cleared out for him when he had moved in. All day, he thought about it in there. He imagined when Isabelle would come home, disappear to the bathroom, only to emerge sometime later with an answer. Every time he reached that part, his stomach would flutter.
For the rest of the day, Chris did everything he could to distract himself. He went to the gym and worked out, then did a little grocery shopping, so he could prepare something for dinner. Besides smoking meat on the barbeque, his prowess in the kitchen was limited. In the early days after separating from Tina, he had delivered some disastrous results and made himself severely ill twice. But, eventually, he got a little better. At least he didn’t over- or under-cook everything now. If he followed a video showing each step of a recipe, stopping and starting when needed, he fared okay.
After that, he cleaned—loaded the dishwasher, made the bed and cut the lawn. He even thought about heading out to his old property to mow for Tina. He had once done that a lot. A part of him didn’t feel right leaving such a big job for her to take care of. She worked more days than he did in a calendar year. The hours weren’t as long, and she didn’t have the tedious flights he had to contend with, but still…
When Isabelle had discovered that Chris still mowed Tina’s lawns and did a little maintenance, she hadn’t approved. Not that she ever outright said so, it was more the way she had reacted. Her expression was tight when she spoke about it. A small hint of disbelief in her tone. Then, for the rest of the afternoon, her replies were shorter and abrupt.
The last thing Chris wanted was to fail at his second marriage, too. Divorces were brutal. His was one of the hardest times in his life. So, he took the hint and reduced how often he visited his former home. And if he did go, he kept it to himself.
Tina didn’t give him grief about it. But, then again, Tina was never the type of person to be petty like that anyway. She had been through so much in her early life and earned a perspective he hadn’t seen in anyone else. A perspective he still respected after all these years.
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