The Love Left Behind

by Daniel De Lorne

  She’d remembered.

  He’d only mentioned once how the one his mother had given him was falling apart. He was torn between using it and risking damaging it further or leaving it behind. But with this beauty, he could keep the treasured one safe.

  ‘This is perfect. It’s exactly what I wanted. I …’ His throat closed with a thud that rumbled in his heart. His fingers traced ‘NG’.

  Here was a family almost ruined by tragedy and they were willing to embrace his passion at their own cost.

  As if Bryce hadn’t been enough of a sacrifice.

  This was what it was like to have someone take notice, to find you worthwhile. This was family.

  Overwhelmed with kindness and his throat depriving him of oxygen, his head swooned. A cough cleared the way enough to speak again, but not enough to clear the swirling mess in his heart.

  ‘This has just been wonderful, guys. You’re so generous. Thank you so much.’

  He looked around at everyone, landing on Dimitri last. He’d almost forgotten he was there. Dimitri pursed his lips and gave a mocking eye roll. No present from him. Nothing unusual there, but to see his derision … Icy water doused his heart. Nick cracked his neck and wished he had the courage to tell Dimitri to piss off. Then the rest of the evening might be saved.

  ‘You’re welcome,’ Steve said. ‘Like I said, we’re just glad we get to spend your birthday with you.’

  ‘You should feel honoured, Steve.’ Dimitri nudged Steve with his elbow and gestured in Nick’s direction with his glass. ‘Nicky doesn’t often do something on his birthday. I know, I’ve tried.’

  That’s what Dimitri believed. After forgetting his birthday for the first few years, remembering only until a couple of days after, in the lead-up to some of the others, Dimitri would start the conversation by saying: ‘You’re not planning on doing anything for your birthday this year, are you?’

  Chris’s announcement from the kitchen that the food was ready saved him from having to explain.

  They took their seats, Lyall claiming the chair next to his before going off to help carry. Steve circled offering red or white wine, pouring Nick a full glass of red. He drained half in two desperate gulps.

  A stream of dishes and bowls and serving trays emerged: mashed potatoes, and steamed broccoli and carrots, along with two of his favourite Italian dishes—osso bucco and grilled swordfish with puttanesca sauce. So that’s why Lyall had asked about Italy last week.

  ‘Chris, this is exceptional.’

  The skinny kid beamed a smile and placed a bowl of freshly made tagliatelle in front of Dimitri, who sat on the other side of Lyall.

  ‘I can’t believe you went to all this trouble just for Nicky here.’ Dimitri opened his napkin, flapped it a few times and lay it across his lap.

  ‘Your son means a lot to us and we like to make people feel special on their birthday,’ Steve replied.

  ‘Still, it’s a lot of effort.’

  ‘Will you just shut up?’ Nick snapped.

  ‘What? I’m just saying—’

  ‘Don’t.’

  Dimitri’s eyebrows raised, childish defiance a gash on his father’s lips. He hid behind his glass as he took another sip. Nick had handled plenty of difficult passengers but unfortunately he couldn’t threaten Dimitri with the Federal Police if he didn’t behave.

  Lyall lowered himself silently into his seat, and Nick sought his hand and squeezed. Lyall raised it to his lips and where lips touched skin, a space uncoiled in Nick that wasn’t writhing in turmoil, a space where he could draw on Lyall’s love.

  ‘Tuck in everyone,’ Grace said, and a clatter of utensils followed and people passed food to fill their plates.

  Nick’s mouth watered from the smell of the perfectly cooked veal, and the taste overcame the bitterness that had claimed his tongue. For a moment he was all about the food and getting flashes of Milan where he’d spent his twenty-seventh birthday alone—and relished it.

  He was quick to tell Chris how good it was, which prompted the others—except Dimitri—to follow in their praise.

  ‘So, Lyall, what do you do?’ Dimitri asked in between swallowing a mouthful of food and chasing it with a mouthful of wine.

  ‘I’m an electrician.’

  ‘Oh? Apprentice?’

  ‘No, I’m fully qualified.’ Lyall either ignored the veiled insult or was oblivious to it. How had he ended up with someone so pure? ‘My uncle owns the business but he’s sort of a silent partner.’

  ‘You must do very well for yourself. Got your own house, I should imagine.’

  ‘No, I still live here.’

  ‘With your folks? Hope he’s paying rent, Steve.’

  ‘We like having him here.’ Grace’s mask of hospitality slipped.

  Nick was about ready to rip his off. He chewed more than he needed to. The food lost its taste. This was meant to be the easy part. Keep everyone fed and watered and they were less likely to cause trouble. His thumb stroked the stem of his nearly empty glass. They must be over halfway through by now.

  ‘Nick moved out when he was nineteen.’ About a month after Avarina died. Was Dimitri saying this to be proud or to show up Lyall? ‘How old are you?’

  ‘Will you cut it out?’ Nick said. ‘It doesn’t matter how old he is.’

  Dimitri threw up his hands. ‘I was just wondering so I could figure out how long he’s been an electrician.’

  ‘Then ask that instead.’

  Lyall saved Dimitri the hassle. ‘About ten years now. Nick said you’ve just been to Fiji.’

  Unfortunately, no cyclone had hindered his return. Nick reached for the wine to fill his empty glass. Rosie slid hers towards him.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he mouthed at her. She rubbed his arm and shook her head, a small smile just for him, then took a big drink.

  Lyall’s misdirection worked. Dimitri talked about the poverty and the lack of good beaches. He dominated the conversation, jumping from one trip to the next, slagging off one country after another as he plundered his way around the world. Why he bothered going anywhere if there were always so many things to complain about was a mystery until Nick realised that was why he did it. He’d say things like, Italy is ruined by those so-called refugees, before talking about Ethiopia and how the world wasn’t doing enough to turn that hellhole into something liveable. Or at least something worthy of tourists. It had become easier to ignore but tonight, with an audience, it was impossible to drown out.

  Lyall, however, was intrigued. ‘There must have been one thing about Vietnam you liked.’

  And Nick, now that he was looking at Lyall and getting occasional flashes of his dimples, saw him store it away. At least the surprise trip was going to work out well. As long as they could get on that plane.

  ‘There are a few things,’ Dimitri said grudgingly. ‘One you’d probably like is the total lack of regulation. There are guys working five storeys up in thongs and t-shirts, welding without any safety gear or harness. Not like here. It’s all too soft here. Too safe.’

  Dimitri’s dismissal struck a match, igniting a blaze that swept beneath the surface of Nick’s skin like a fire taking out an engine. Grace flinched at Dimitri’s comment, and Steve tried to smile. If things hadn’t been as regulated as they were, Lyall would have died. They all felt the erratic charge through the air.

  ‘It’s not so bad.’ Lyall was trying his best to make this right but it had gone on long enough and Nick had to do something.

  But the heat was too much, his collar too tight around his neck, his mind clouded with smoke and embers. He needed to jettison fuel before he told Dimitri to go to hell. It would make the difference between a smooth landing and one with no survivors.

  Nick pushed back from the table and excused himself to go to the bathroom. He washed his face and stared at himself in the mirror. His skin had flushed, his eyes gone wide and stark. He’d known Dimitri would be like this, perhaps not the exact words, but this creature that they’d have to smile p
olitely around. And perhaps for a second when Lyall had suggested it, he’d had a glimmer of hope that Dimitri could be different if given the chance. That if he saw a loving family who’d suffered and came out stronger for it, then maybe something could be salvaged.

  But Dimitri was incapable of change.

  And he couldn’t be allowed to ruin his birthday more than he already had.

  Mayday, we’re in need of assistance.

  He dried his hands and face on the towel and opened the bathroom door. Lyall leaned against the wall chewing his thumbnail. His eyes were big, the crease in between them deep. He scooped up Nick’s hand.

  ‘I’m so sorry,’ Lyall pleaded. ‘I really didn’t think it was going to be like this.’

  He didn’t need apologies. He needed to be hard and seal off the fault before it spread. The night was still salvageable.

  ‘I did.’

  And I tried to tell you.

  ‘I know but I worry about you. Every time he’s mentioned you go all funny and I thought that maybe you were unhappy about your relationship with him and wished it were better.’

  He pulled Lyall further down the hall. ‘I’m not thrilled that our relationship is strained but I know, after thirty-one years, that there is nothing more between us. I do wish it was better, but he’s never going to be the person who would allow that to happen.’ He couldn’t even have a conversation about Dimitri without getting worked up.

  ‘But it’s like you’ve given up.’

  He snatched his hand out of Lyall’s grasp and crossed his arms in front of his chest. Of course he’d given up. Any sane person would.

  To save themselves.

  ‘Look, Lyall, I know it’s hard for you to understand. You’ve got this great family. You’re into each other. You all love each other, but it’s the exception, not the rule.’

  And I thought I could be part of it.

  Lyall touched his shoulder. ‘You’re right, I don’t understand what’s gone wrong between you, but I’m always going to try to make things better because I hate seeing you in this pain.’

  ‘The only pain I’m in is because he’s here at all.’ He sighed. ‘Do you really want to know one reason why I have as little to do with him as possible?’

  Lyall gave a small nod, the kind people give when they weren’t sure what they’d agreed to.

  He got closer so he’d be forced to keep his voice down. They might have shifted course but they could still get through it. He just needed Lyall’s help. He needed him to understand.

  ‘The last birthday I had with Mum I’d planned this low-key thing for the three of us. I wanted it to be as easy on her as possible because the cancer was really gunning for her and she didn’t have that much strength.’

  Old grief added fuel, flames licked up his throat. His voice wavered on smoke.

  ‘I booked us all in for a calm day by the sea but when it came, Dad decided we should do something else. He said it would be better for us all. It turns out it wasn’t for me or Mum. Some client of his was throwing a party so we were forced to go along to this event. Mum smiled and went with it and, like a fucking idiot, I did too because I didn’t want to upset her, but the day was a disaster and Mum got weaker and weaker to the point where I had to carry her out and tell Dad that we were going home.’

  The fire shrank for a second, leaving only the cold memory of how she’d weighed next to nothing and the feel of her bones pressing through her clothes and into his arms.

  ‘He and I had a big fight and I remember Mum looking at the two of us with this despair on her face, that she was leaving us behind and there’d be nothing to keep us together.’

  And that’s what had happened. The chain had broken when she’d gone, but it wasn’t the loss of his connection with Dimitri that bothered him. It was the loss of her.

  Lyall’s eyes teared up. ‘You should have said something to me.’

  His rage exploded, knocking out another engine. Sabotage from within. ‘What?! I did!’

  ‘You didn’t tell me any of this. You kept it all away from me.’

  ‘I shouldn’t have had to tell you. You should have trusted me. I begged you not to invite him but you pressured me into it and so what could I do?’

  Lyall flinched. ‘Pressured you? Is that what you think I did?’

  ‘Of course you did.’ Nick spat fire. He couldn’t land this. He’d lost control. ‘How many times did I say no and yet you kept on? Instead of trusting my judgement you made it impossible for me to refuse.’

  The vein in Lyall’s forehead throbbed. ‘Well, what about you, pressuring me to get on a plane?’

  He staggered back as they tipped into freefall. ‘What? I bought that as a gift and—’

  ‘Yeah but it should have been up to me to say when, and now instead I’ve got this ticking time bomb and I feel like I’m going to disappoint you if I don’t go with you.’ Lyall’s voice raised, his finger stabbing the air. ‘All I was trying to do for you was repair your relationship with your father.’

  ‘I didn’t ask you to.’

  ‘And I didn’t ask you to buy me a ticket to Greece.’ Lyall’s teeth flashed as his mouth shot accusations.

  ‘What are you saying?’ he said, engines burned out, stomach spiralling on adrenaline-fuel. ‘Because I’m not over the moon about Dimitri being here, because I’m not being ever so grateful that you attempted to fix a broken thing—’

  ‘But you’re not even making an effort.’

  ‘Neither are you!’ They hurtled towards a crash, his hands locked into a death grip as he girded himself for full impact.

  Lyall’s eyes flared. ‘I can’t believe you just said that to me. I’ve made myself sick over not getting on a plane all because you want me to.’

  The only thing he could do now was try to land somewhere he wouldn’t cause widespread devastation.

  ‘Well, hey, let me make it easy for you. I’ll go by myself. I travel better alone anyway.’ He brushed past Lyall and back into the dining room, grabbing his jacket off the back of his chair. He could feel their eyes on him. No one was eating. They’d all heard.

  ‘Is everything alright?’ Steve stood up at the table.

  Nick was a smoking wreckage. And there were no signs of life. ‘Fantastic, Steve, but I’m going.’ He didn’t look at them.

  ‘Don’t go,’ Grace said. ‘We haven’t finished eating and then there’s cake.’

  Bless her.

  ‘Thanks but no thanks.’

  ‘Always causing a scene,’ Dimitri slurred. ‘You should have seen him when—’

  ‘Shut up, Dimitri. And you’re leaving too. I’m not subjecting these people to your presence any longer.’

  ‘Like hell, I’m going.’

  ‘Dimitri, I think it’s time you went,’ Steve said.

  ‘Come on,’ Nick said. ‘I’ll drive. You’ve had too much to drink.’

  Dimitri blustered but he moved. Nick ripped the keys out of his hand. He’d have caught a taxi but he wanted to get away from there as fast as possible. He pushed Dimitri out, couldn’t give them a goodbye. He’d burned himself out. His heart had incinerated. He didn’t need it anymore.

  Lyall didn’t see him off.

  Dimitri clambered into the car and Nick drove. All the while Dimitri complained about the Turner family, the cooking, the house, what they looked like, what he thought of them and their child-rearing abilities: all the poison and hate of a drunk Greek bore. Nick let it wash over him, drown him, suffocate all emotion.

  When he pulled up outside his old house, Dimitri asked if he wanted to come in, but he ignored the question. He handed over the keys and jogged down the street. He didn’t want to be within sight of his family home. Family was not for him. Now that he no longer had one.

  19

  ‘Has Nick called?’ Grace stood at the open door of Lyall’s van. He’d parked it in the garage where he could reach drawers and shelves of electrical supplies, pick apart the insides of the van and sort old bits of w
ire and broken switches. Most of it went in the bin. Years of junk he should have cleaned out while he was on suspension.

  ‘No.’ Lyall threw out another mound of tangled wire.

  ‘Perhaps you should call him.’

  Her advice zapped him in the chest. His pecs flinched and resisted the charge. ‘If he wants to apologise, he can call me. After everything I did for him yesterday, it’s the least he could do.’ He dug around for anything left to ditch but most of it he’d cleared.

  Then why does it still feel so cramped in here?

  ‘Maybe you need to make the first move.’ She’d been saying that since Nick had stormed out the night before and left them with a mountain of food, an untouched cake and his gifts discarded like rubbish. No matter how angry Nick had been, he shouldn’t have behaved that way towards his family.

  ‘I didn’t do anything wrong.’

  ‘No?’

  There was the guilt train. Right on schedule.

  How was it that his own mother would take someone else’s side over his? And it wasn’t just her, but the rest of the family as well. They’d heard most of the argument especially the bit about the plane ticket. They hadn’t called him ungrateful but the word sparked in the background. He’d gone to his room not long after Nick had left, careful his shame didn’t catch fire.

  He ignored her, shuffling deeper into the van, hoping she’d take the hint.

  ‘It couldn’t have been easy for him last night.’ She wasn’t going to stop. ‘That father of his. I was ready to lay into Dimitri myself. I don’t know how anyone could treat their kid in such a way.’

  She continued, about how difficult it was for Nick, how they’d tried their best to make it a good night.

  ‘I really think you should call him.’

  He groaned. She generated enough guilt to power a whole year’s worth of arguments. ‘He wasn’t willing to listen last night. He won’t be willing to listen now.’

  ‘Things always look better in the morning.’

  Not from where he was crouching.

  ‘If you won’t call him, then I will.’