by Del, Lissa
“I guess I’ll speak to you later?” I murmur. Julia nods, her bottom lip trapped between her teeth and, as hard as it is, I know it’s time to go – to leave her be and let her make up her own mind.
We get home to discover that Kat has roped Jack in to help with the kids. She’s sunning herself on my favourite lounger, wearing one of my old bikinis and Jesse’s baseball cap, while Jack scampers around the garden, entertaining Dylan and Casey.
“I should’ve known you wouldn’t cope on your own for long,” I tease, flopping onto the grass beside her. Dylan is crowding Nick and Jesse, desperate for information about what happened this afternoon, and Jack joins them, much to Casey’s dismay.
“She’s got him wrapped around her little finger,” Kat drawls, as Casey hauls Jack back onto the grass to play. Then, lowering her voice, “Where was he?”
“Julia’s.”
“Ah.” She leans back. “And how did that go?”
“I asked her to come back.”
“And?”
“And I told her the truth.”
Kat whistles. “How did she take it?”
“Better than I expected.”
“Do you think she’ll tell Nick?”
“No.” It’s an honest answer. Julia is simply too good, too kind, to do something like that.
“So he’ll never know?”
“Actually,” I scoot closer to her, ignoring the pain in my hips, “that’s something I wanted to talk to you about.”
Kat doesn’t interrupt while I outline my plan, but her lips purse and she heaves a pained sigh every now and again for dramatic measure, which I ignore. When I’m done, she lowers her sunglasses and gives me a hard look. “You know, you can be a real bitch, Evie Danvers!”
“I know.” I grin, “But you love me regardless.”
“I do,” she sighs again, with acceptance this time, slides her glasses up her nose and settles back on the lounger. “Now ask Jack to get me some wine, will you. I’m going to need it.”
Jack does as he’s asked, bringing me a glass of iced water too. I stopped drinking a few weeks back when even a few sips of alcohol started to make me throw up. Nobody said anything, and we just transitioned into this new phase as we had with every other phase of my illness. I love that Kat didn’t offer to stop drinking in solidarity. It would have made things weird, and besides, she wouldn’t have expected me to do so if our roles were reversed.
Casey curls up on my lap as the sun sinks lower in the sky, her blonde hair fanning out across my legs. It’s not long before Dylan joins us, curling into my side and resting his head on my shoulder. When Jesse takes his place on the other side of me, lifting Casey’s legs to drape them over his own. I incline my head toward his.
“I’ve made my decision,” I tell him. His body tenses but he doesn’t raise his head. “No iPad for a week.” His hair tickles my cheek as he nods without argument and I kiss the top of his head. “And if you ever scare me like that again, you’ll be grounded for life,” I whisper. I see the corner of his eye crease and I pull him closer.
Kat smiles at me over her wine glass and Nick pulls his phone from his pocket to take a photograph - capturing the memory. None of us know that it will be the last photo taken of me with all three of my children. Except, maybe I do.
40
Julia
It feels weird to be knocking on the familiar mahogany door. I’d left my key behind when I walked out two months ago but the formality still throws me. It’s not Evie or Nick who answers the door. Instead, it’s Kat, clad only in the briefest of bikinis, her pale skin smooth and supple, and smelling faintly of coconut oil.
“Hi,” I say, trying to keep the tremor out of my voice. The white-tiled hall is cool and inviting, but I don’t step inside. Kat’s eyes fall on the suitcase at my feet and her lips curl upward. “Welcome home,” she says, stepping aside.
“Who’s tha…?” Nick’s voice cuts dead as he appears behind Kat. “Julia?” One look at his face and I know that Evie didn’t tell him I was coming. Didn’t even mention the possibility. Kat sweeps away, leaving us facing one another in the doorway.
“Hi, Nick.” I begin lamely. “I, um… I don’t know if Evie told you I might be coming back?”
“She didn’t.” I can’t read his expression. He glances at my suitcase. “You’re back for good?”
I nod, my throat bobbing helplessly. “I hope it’s not a problem. I told Evie I would let her know tonight but I figured I’d save myself the phone call. If it’s not a convenient time, I can always come back tomorrow?” I leave the question hanging but Nick doesn’t say anything. I shift my weight to the other foot wondering if I’ve made a mistake. Wondering if shutting down my computer without pressing that button is going to be something I regret for the rest of my life. And then, Nick smiles. It’s an honest and open smile, one that holds the promise of friendship and a new start.
“I’m glad you’re here,” he says, leaning forward to take my bag. “I’ll take this to your room, you go on out back and see Evie. She’s going to be thrilled.”
I find Evie alone on the patio. She looks tired but smiles when she sees me. “You came.” She says it in a way that makes me wonder how deeply she doubted I would.
“I did. Did you think I wouldn’t?”
“I expected to have to beg. I already had my guilt-trip speech planned.”
“I’m sure you did.”
Evie’s cheek dimples but her eyes are solemn, serious. “Do you hate me?”
“I wish I did,” I admit. “It’s easier said than done.”
“I’ve heard that before but I never really appreciated it until right now.” A pause and then she pats the sofa beside her. ‘Sit.”
I do.
“I’m really happy you’re here, Julia.”
I look up at the sky as I take her hand. It’s a blanket of black, clouds stretching as far as the eye can see and blocking out the stars. It’s an empty sky.
“I’m happy I’m here too,” I say. Evie squeezes my hand so tightly it hurts, and, as the warmth of her fingers seeps into mine, the lingering hurt and betrayal falls away.
Kat must have been eavesdropping, because no sooner have Evie and I fallen into companionable silence, she breezes out onto the patio followed by a handsome man.
“You must be Jack,” I say, extending my hand. His grip is firm and friendly but he barely gives me a second glance, all his attention fixed on Kat. He wears his devotion on his face like Nick does.
“Jack, would you pour Julia some wine?” Kat asks.
“I hear that’s going very well,” I tease her as he disappears inside.
“Your father is an incorrigible gossip.” She’s feigning annoyance but I can tell she’s pleased. “I take it you two have worked out your issues?” she continues curtly. “I didn’t hear the slap of flesh so I’m assuming you’re okay with Evie’s devious plotting, Julia?”
I choke on my drink. “You knew?” I raise my brow, daring her to deny it.
Kat shrugs. “Every pilot needs a wingman.”
Evie chuckles. “God, I wish I could still drink. A slug of vodka wouldn’t go amiss right now.”
“You don’t need to drink,” Kat scoffs. “You get to get high whenever you want.”
“It’s not the same,” Evie grumbles. “There’s no getting off that train once it gets going.”
“Here you go!” Jack announces, as he sets a glass of wine on the table before me and takes his place back at Kat’s side. Evie gives the glass a longing look as Nick steps outside.
“What a beautiful evening,” he says, gazing at the stars.
“It is indeed,” Evie sighs softly, her eyes drawn to him. She’s dressed in layers, a thick, ribbed sweater drowning her, but she looks peaceful, content.
Nick comes around to her other side and takes a seat, his arm resting across the back of the sofa, a beer in his other hand. Evie’s drinking water.
“Can I make you some tea or coffee?” I ask.
I haven’t touched my wine and I’m quite happy to have a cup of tea with her.
“No, Julia,” she teases, “you can just sit here and enjoy this beautiful evening with us.”
“Yes Ma’am,” I grin.
“What did your dad say when you told him you were coming back?” Kat asks.
“He was very happy, but I think that’s only because I won’t smell like fried food anymore.”
Kat looks alarmed. “Do I even want to ask?”
I laugh. “I was working in a pub.”
“Probably easier than looking after the kids,” Kat murmurs. Jack pokes her in the ribs. “What? Kids are hard work.”
“They’re worth it, though,” I say without thinking.
Evie flashes me another grin. “Atta girl,” she says.
“I guess they’re not so bad,” Kat admits. Jack pulls her closer so she can’t see the delighted look on his face. I guess Jack’s not as averse to fatherhood as Kat might like.
Much later I head up to my room. I can’t stop myself looking in on the kids on my way up, and my heart swells at the sight of them, fast asleep in their beds. Jesse has kicked off his covers and I tuck them around him, careful not to wake him. He smiles in his sleep. Casey is snoring and Dylan has Guinevere curled up against his back – a natural heater. She looks up as I enter the room and I pat her sweet head to settle her.
My bedroom is exactly how I left it, the bottle of perfume still on the dresser, but, as I step closer, I notice a handwritten note has been slipped underneath it. I’m sorry. It’s Evie’s handwriting. I smile as I crumple it up and throw it into the wastepaper basket. No, you’re not.
As I unpack, I wonder at the effort she went through to find me, to bring me here. The only thing she didn’t do, couldn’t do, was to make me fall in love with them all. I did that all on my own.
I climb into bed, a small sigh escaping my lips as my head sinks into the familiar pillow, the smells and sounds of the house washing over me. I haven’t felt this peaceful in months. I guess home truly is where the heart is.
Over the next week I slip back into my routine. Jesse has a music exam coming up and the sound of his guitar echoes through the house driving everyone demented, especially Evie, who is fading faster every day but refusing to admit it. She had told me that time was running out but I hadn’t realised just how serious she had been.
“I’m going to have an aneurism,” she remarks one morning at breakfast as the dun-dun-duns reverberate through the house, followed by a rough twang. Jesse’s been learning how to pick. Evie rubs her temples.
“Do you want me to turn it down?” I ask.
Evie shakes her head. “No. He’s so focused, it’s good for him. My ears can bleed.”
I nod, but I’m already outlining a plan that will work for everyone.
Nick’s been so busy with this new development he’s working on that he hasn’t had the chance to clear out a space in the garage for Jesse to practice. That way, Evie can escape to her room, on the other side of the house. With the door closed, she’d barely hear a thing. On Saturday morning I despatch the entire family to the park, determined to get it done.
“Guinevere needs the exercise,” I point out. The puppy is getting fat, which I suspect is because the children keep feeding her unwanted items off their plates when they think nobody is looking.
The unusual hustle and bustle ensues as the kids pull on their socks and shoes and Guinevere yaps playfully at the door. She knows what the leash means and it never fails to get her worked up.
I wave as they head out and then walk back inside with single-minded purpose. I want everything ready by the time they get back.
Evie makes it halfway down the drive before she collapses. I hear Nick’s frantic shout and bolt outside to find him crouched over her. Her summer dress is hitched around her thighs, a bold splash of colour against her chalk-white legs. Her eyes are closed and, for a horrifying second, I’m convinced she’s stopped breathing.
Nick must be thinking the same because he lowers his face to Evie’s, trying to feel her breath on his cheek. “Get the kids inside!” he yells, as Casey starts howling. I snatch her up, drawing her face into my shoulder and grab Dylan by the hand. His lips are quivering and his blue eyes are wide, his silent tears more heart-wrenching than Casey’s screams. Jesse remains fixed to the spot as he stares down at Evie.
“Jesse!” I plead. “Come inside!”
Nick is already on his feet, Evie scooped into the hollow of his arms, her face lolling against his chest.
“Inside, Jesse!” Nick roars over his shoulder. It suddenly occurs to me that he’ll need help with the car door and I take a tentative step forward, trying not to let Casey or Dylan sense how frightened I am, but Jesse is too quick for me. He’s already there, hauling open the back door so that Nick can lay Evie across the seat. The slam of the door makes me cringe.
“No, Jesse,” Nick lays his own hand over his son’s as Jesse’s reaches for the passenger door handle.
“I’m coming with you!” Jesse says.
“No, you’re not.” I know how desperate Nick is to get Evie to the hospital, but he stays, bending on one knee and turning Jesse to face him. He doesn’t want Jesse to see her, I realise, but he doesn’t want to make it obvious. “I’ll come back and get you, Jesse, I promise,” Nick continues. How he’s keeping his voice so calm is beyond me. “But you can’t come with me now.”
“She’s my mom.” The break in Jesse’s voice cuts through me like a knife and a sob rises in my chest. I clutch Casey closer as Nick places his hand on Jesse’s shoulder.
“You need to stay here and be brave for Dylan and Case.” Nick’s face twists in a grimace of pain before he can stop himself and then his eyes find the window behind Jesse. I don’t know what Evie must look like, don’t want to know, and I know that Jesse can’t witness this either. If it’s time… if Evie’s going to… I stride forward, prepared to drag Jesse inside if I have to, but then Nick speaks again. “I have to go, son. I need to get your mom to the hospital, now.”
Desperate tears stream down Jesse’s face but he nods and takes a step away from the car. I hear Nick’s relieved exhalation as he sprints around the front and vaults into the driver’s seat. I reach for Jesse and he takes my hand as Nick pulls away, the tyres emitting a faint squeak.
“I want Mommy!” Casey is still howling and Dylan is shaking so badly I can barely keep hold of his hand.
Jesse swallows hard, swipes at his eyes with the sleeve of his T-shirt and takes Dylan’s hand from mine. My eyes find his and I try to tell him, without words, how grateful I am – how strong he is, how brave, but I don’t know if he sees any of it through the shimmer of fresh tears.
“Come on, you guys,” I say gently, “let’s go inside.”
41
Evie
Someone groans. Groans again. It wakes me up, dragging me from the depths of the deepest sleep. I try to open my eyes but they’re heavy-lidded and uncooperative and my mouth is sandpapery, my tongue bloated.
“Evie?” Nick’s voice above the groaning. Shut up!
“Evie?” I can feel the pressure of his hand over mine, but not the warmth of it. It’s as if there’s an invisible barrier keeping him out.
My eyes fly open at the same moment I retch and vomit spectacularly, all over myself. The groaning has finally stopped, and it takes only a quick scan of the clinical room to realise it was me. It had to be, there’s no one else here.
Nick is holding a kidney-shaped bowl beneath my chin. A bit late, don’t you think? I try to joke but the words can’t get past my giant tongue and it comes out garbled, incoherent nonsense.
“It’s the drugs,” Nick tells me, sensing my distress. I follow the line of his gaze to see the drip hanging just to the left, above my head. “It’s quite a cocktail.”
I suck in my cheeks, run my tongue over my teeth and into the roof of my mouth. It loosens up, ever so slightly.
“I feel like I’ve been run
over by a bus.” I’m still not entirely coherent, but it’s better.
Nick tries to smile and fails miserably. “I spoke to Doctor Moxley,” he begins slowly, as if he’s trying to gauge how this conversation will play out, “he said…”
“That he hasn’t seen me?” I ask, not waiting for him to finish.
Nick nods. “He said it’s been months. That you declined any further treatment?” There is so much pain on his face but he’s trying to keep it together. His eyes are pleading for me to deny it. “You told me you’d seen him.”
I’m too tired and this has gone on too long for me to bother denying it. “I see the cat,” I say. “I named the cat Doctor Moxley.”
He takes time to process this, to understand what I’ve been doing. Clarity follows confusion and disbelief is not far behind. His mouth opens, shuts, opens again, but nothing comes out. He throws his hands in the air as if calling on God or the purified air for answers, and then he shakes his head, looking at me as if he’s never seen me before. Even I’m shocked when he starts to laugh.
And, like water bursting through a damn wall, the hilarity of the truth erupts and I’m laughing along with him. I can’t help it and neither can Nick.
“Only you,” he says, when he can finally draw enough breath to speak. “Only you could come up with something so devious.”
“I’m sorry,” I say, wiping tears of mirth from my eyes. “I know it’s not what you wanted.”
His smile is fading now, like the rose-gold of the sun disappearing over the horizon. “I wanted you to get better.”
“That was never going to happen.”
Another nod and he takes my hand. “How’s the pain?”
I know how hard it must be for him to change the subject, but I can feel the warmth of his hand again and it fills me with comfort. “Bearable.”
