Love's Wall

by Karen Deen

  I remember the feeling of the grey cloud my family had painted getting heavier over my heart. For once, I felt like I had finally found a place to just be me and make my mark on the world, but they were raining on my parade. It hurt, but I would never let them know that. I did what I had always done for many years - painted a smile on my face. I loved my family with every part of my being and would never hurt them. I had kept a part of me hidden from them, as well as from the rest of the world. I would never again be vulnerable to having my world shattered. Love is amazing and the most comforting emotion, but it could also rip you to shreds. After being on both sides of the wall, I had chosen my side. The side which was comfortable and safe. I had built my wall just that little bit higher, thicker and stronger so it kept me safe and stopped any future intruders from crossing over it.

  It hurt to think of my life before then. I had never completely shared with anyone what truly happened, nor would I ever. No matter how much you moved on, pushed it down, stepped on top of it and tried to climb above it, there’d always be a part of it that would pull you down.

  Regardless of what my siblings and Zoe had thought, the house was right for me and I would make it my home by bringing back its dignity. Maybe that was what I’d needed to do to help me see value in my own life. To feel like I had dignity again. That was a thought I kept to myself.

  When my Mom and Dad came home for a few weeks, in between travelling the country in their motorhome, it was their opinions that mattered the most. My father was the typical all-American, hardworking, self-made, protective alpha male who valued his wife and children above money and power.

  My grandfather had died from a heart attack when Dad was ten years old. Dad took on the responsibility of becoming the man of the house and looking after my grandmother. He took it very seriously and, as an only child, Grandmother had no one else to lean on. Dad grew up faster than most kids his age. He was a great man and worked hard to be the best father he could, providing us with all that we needed. He always loved us. We knew we were loved unconditionally. While the love for his children was big, the love in his heart for our Mom was huge. They had that connection of love that made their souls melt into one, their lives intertwined around each other’s hearts to keep them safe.

  My mother was the opposite to Dad. Dad was the foundation of our family tree. He was strong and solid and lifted us all up to the sun. My Mom was the softness of the leaves, the beauty of the flowers and the memorable moments of their scent. She was the branches that twisted, curled, intertwined and reached out to protect her family tree. They were the perfect couple that you always heard about. The ones women swooned over in those trashy romance novels, like the ones Zoe read when she thought I wasn’t watching.

  I grew up with the perfect family around me. I’d forever be grateful for the love we had and the feeling of always being safe. Many aren’t so lucky to have grown up in such a home. My parent’s life, although it was perfect for them, was one that I had decided was not going to happen for me. While thinking my siblings would all at some stage find that special person to love, cherish and share a life with, it was no longer in my life map. I was resigned to be the uncle who was always there to be fun, protect, guide and love any nieces or nephews that came along. I hoped there’d be plenty, but being a father was no longer an option for me. I always imagined I would make a good dad. I’d visualize it and see a little boy with brown hair and brown eyes like me. Or perhaps a little girl with ringlet curls like my sisters, with big eyes that would suck her Dad in every time.

  My family would never know why, but the uncle life was the path for me. They would be the ones to benefit from the love I had to give, without the pain that could come in return when giving out that love. Family was your safe place. Well, it was for me.

  When Mom and Dad arrived at the property for the first time, I held my breath. Although I knew I had made the right decision for me, their opinions were so important.

  As their truck came slowly down the gravel drive from the front gate, I wondered what they thought of the house at first sight. Did they see it the same way I did? Was I the only one whose heart had skipped a beat on their first trip down the same strip of gravel that they now travelled?

  The drive to my home was lined with maple trees that were bare at the time the property became mine. They stood tall, solid and strong, yet sparse as I’d crawled slowly towards the house that memorable day. They looked like they were reaching out to find someone to love the property and, in turn, them.

  The truck crawled to a stop in front of the staircase where I stood at the top, looking down. Mom jumped out and raced around the front of Dad’s truck, which was his pride and joy. He always told us, ‘every man needs a truck so they can work hard and provide for their family’. Mom always giggled at that statement, but all of the boys in our family owned trucks, even if we had other vehicles. It was in our blood that every man needed a truck to be as big a man as our Dad. He was our hero.

  Mom took the steps at a jog and jumped into my arms with a big tight hug. I wrapped my arms around her and buried my head into the crook of her neck. I took a deep breath and with it, the scent that was my Mom. My safe place. It was the scent that took you back in time to when you scraped your knee and she kissed it better. Or the time you were sick in bed and she sat all night holding your hand while you battled the fever. Mom was always home, no matter what.

  I lifted my head up and looked down at her face which, now aged a little with many laugh lines (as she called them), had the loving smile she saved just for her kids. Although she was having a ball travelling with Dad, she missed her kids terribly. And although Dad would never admit it, I think he did too. Mom always said they were travelling now so that by the time grandkids were arriving, they would have that bug out of their system. There was no way in hell she was missing one moment of being a grandparent. God help her grandkids, they were going to be smothered with love! Then again, what more could any child want but to feel the love of a whole family?

  Mom was not a short woman, standing at 5’7”. To my 6’2” height, her head sat perfectly under my chin and leant against my heart, taking it all in. When she looked up at me finally, her eyes were damp. There was warmth shining out of them and her smile lit up her whole face. It told me her heart had skipped that beat on the trip down the gravel driveway too.

  “So, what do you think, Mom? Does it give a good first impression?” I asked, thinking I already knew the answer.

  “Oh Zach, it is wonderful! What a precious looking home. It looks just perfect. I can’t wait to see what you do with it. I would love to hear all your ideas for it. Take us on the grand tour and share what your dreams are!” Mom bounced with excitement and talked quickly as she dragged me towards the front door.

  “Hang on a minute, woman! Can I get a word in, or at least a hug from my son?” boomed Dad’s deep voice as he climbed from his truck.

  “Hey Dad, thanks for coming to check the place out and give me your thoughts”.

  “Zach, my boy, good to see you,” he said, giving me the typical Dad man-hug with the compulsory man-slaps on the back. Always three slaps. When we were little, I asked Dad why he always did three slaps on our backs. He laughed and hugged me, his arm around me with his hand on my shoulder blade. He slowly slapped me and said, “This first slap is to let you know I am glad to see you. The second is to let you know that I am always there for you. The last is the most important. It is to remind you that, no matter what happens in your life and no matter where you are, I will always love you.”

  I have carried that memory with me every day since. For a man who always appeared to the outside world as the strong alpha male, he also had a soft spot that he only showed to his family. Even now, as grown adults that were out living their lives in the world, we immediately got the hug and three slaps from Dad. Only after Mom had hugged the air out of us first, though!

  Dad pulled back from the hug and looked up, casting his eyes over the house. He
went quiet and started to wander off around the outside of the veranda, lifting his eyes up and down and taking in the structural elements.

  As I stood and watched him with anticipation, Mom tapped me on the arm and grabbed my attention. “Come on, Zach. Let him go. You take me inside and show me around this gorgeous new home of yours.”

  I looked down at the excitement in her eyes and took her by the hand. We turned towards the front door and I lead her into my new world. The one I was creating to live in.

  “I have so many ideas, Mom. I feel like my head is going to explode with the amount of activity that is going on in there. It’s hard to concentrate on work when my mind keeps coming back to here. I want to bring life back to it and show the house as it once was. There is so much beauty in the original architecture and building materials, but it has been left to rot. It’s been neglected for the last ten years, some of the house is past just a paint job. Some of the timber will need to be repaired or replaced to return it to its original state.”

  Mom started to run her hand along the walls as we stood in the entry and fell silent while she assessed the sight that played out in front of her. What was she doing rubbing the walls, I wondered? It’s not like she was testing for wood rot or structural soundness, because Mom would never make a builder. After she stood for a minute, she turned to me with a serious look on her face. As she contemplated whatever she was thinking about, the wrinkles on her forehead relaxed and the corners of her mouth began to curve up towards her eyes, bringing out the warm smile.

  “Um, Mom - what are you thinking?” She let out a nervous giggle, sighed and looked me straight in the eye.

  “This house has a great vibe to it. It will make a perfect home for you, Zach, you can feel the love in its walls. It was built to be filled with the love of a family. It will be a special place for you to bring home a bride one day. The two of you will fill it with love and a family of your own. It will be magical for this house to be the home it was built to be by the old couple. There is magic here, Zach, I can feel it.”

  My heart stopped beating and my brain froze. How do I break my mother’s heart and tell her that would never happen? There would be laughter and smiles here, but the love of a family would only be here when they came to visit. I stared at her while she continued to talk ten-to-the-dozen, but I didn't hear a word. Doubts began to creep into my mind. Did I do the right thing buying this property? Was it meant to be a home for some lucky family who would have kids running around screaming, laughing and climbing the trees? A dog chasing at their heels as they rode their push bikes from the house to the front gate and back?

  “Zach…..Zach………ZACH!” Mom started waving her arms madly in front of my face. “Where did you zone out to, Zach, this isn’t like you? Are you okay, honey? Did I scare you with all the talk of a bride and kids?” She sniggered to herself. “Don’t worry, plenty of time for that. Let’s get the house fixed up first and then you can go looking for your bride to make it a home.”

  Just paint on that smile again, Zach, and it will be okay. Take a breath and just relax. Breathe in, then out, in, then out. Every breath in is helping put another layer of bricks between the safe side of the love wall and the other side that I can’t go to.

  “Zach, are you okay? You look pale and have lost that excited look you had when we first walked in.”

  “Sorry Mom, just got lost in a daydream about the renovations” More like a nightmare, I thought to myself. “How about I show you through the downstairs living areas, then we can take a look upstairs at the bedrooms and bathrooms. What do you say?”

  I held my arm out for her to take, and the moment she linked her arm in mine, the calmness of a mother’s love warmed my body. I relaxed into her side as we stepped together down the hallway through to the formal lounge room. This was the room where I had visions of me after a long day at work, sitting back in my leather recliner in front of the open fire. I’d watch the flames dance over the wood as it burned. The warmth would spread through the room, enveloping me and seeping into my body, relaxing my muscles. My body would sag back into the cosiness of the chair and I could lose my thoughts gazing out the large bay window facing the front of the property. I would look towards the surrounding open space of the farm, with the beautiful trees that line the drive and the mountains in the distance. A great way to unwind with a glass of red wine and just contemplate the world.

  As we studied the room, I explained my visions in broad terms to Mom. I wanted to keep part of my dream as mine for a while until such time as it was completed or I was ready to share it. Mom loved the room and all that I was going to do to bring it to life. The rest of the tour went much the same as I lead her from room to room until we ventured upstairs.

  “Wow, look at the size of this master bedroom, it’s huge! Especially for the era the house was built in. And the views from this window to the river and mountains are spectacular! I can imagine what it would look like at night lying in bed looking out to the stars over the mountains. Zach, you could not have found a more perfect home!”

  “Thanks Mom, it means a lot to hear you say that. You know, Grant didn’t talk to me for a week when I told him and Luke that I had bought it.”

  I jumped a little as Dad’s voice came from behind us unexpectedly. “Your mother is right, Zach. This is a great buy with plenty of potential to bring it back to its prime. Don’t worry about your brother. He is just sulking because he had to realize you don’t need him to hold your hand. I swear he thinks he is the father of this family, frickin’ control freak!”

  Mom nearly choked as she burst out laughing at my Dad. “Gee, Mitch, I wonder where he gets that character trait from?”

  “Bite that cute little tongue of yours, Sophia,” he said as he strode across the room and wrapped her up in those big manly arms of his. He leant down and placed a very tender kiss on her lips and whispered, “Or will I have to shut that cheeky little mouth for you?” He winked, making her blush.

  As much as I love my parents, there were times when I thought, I do not need the vision of you both doing anything else other than kissing and cuddling.

  Mom stretched up on her toes to whisper in Dad’s ear as I turned to stare out the window. I didn’t need to share in that private moment.

  “Like I said, Zach, the house is structurally sound, and I look forward to seeing what you do with it”. As we stood staring out to the farm sprawling before us, Dad asked me what I planned to do with the worker’s cottage.

  “I am going to fix it up first to a neat livable standard, then move in there to live while I work on the house. That way, I can take my time on the house and continue on it at night after work. I won’t have a thirty-minute drive home each night after I finish.”

  “Sounds like you have it all thought out, son. I am proud of you and know you’ll do a good job.”

  “He had a good teacher, Mitch.” My Mom’s pride showed in her eyes as she looked up into my Dad’s.

  “She’s right, Dad, you taught us all so well. Not only about building, but how to be a man. I hope I have lived up to that for you.” In my heart, I didn’t think I had. But it didn’t stop me from desperately wanting to hear it from my father.

  “As I said, Zach, I am proud of you and who you are. Just as I am of your brothers and sisters. You have all grown into great people. Your mother and I are excited everyday watching you all embrace life.”

  “Thanks Dad, it means a lot,” I whispered as I stood trying to process the emotions created by what he’d said.

  “Now enough of this mushy crap. What’s a man got to do around here to get a feed and a cold beer?” Laughter echoed off the bare walls and the moment was gone. Another rare glimpse of Dad’s soft side to store in my memory bank.

  The day ended with us in the local steakhouse. We chatted over the house plans and heard about their last trip. Dad wanted to get up to speed on where work projects were up to. He might be retired, but always liked to keep his finger in the pie. The day ended w
ith Mom probing me for gossip on my siblings.

  We’d made a pact years ago. Mom got the everyday gossip, but anything serious we kept to ourselves, so the person involved could share it when they were ready. It worked most of the time until Mom hunted for confirmation that one of us was in need of her help. The thing was, she was usually spot on the money. I guess it was part of a mother’s sixth sense, like when you were younger, and she already knew what you’d done wrong.

  I would always look back on that day with a smile and the memory of my parent’s love, feeling so at home and safe. As I floated back into the present, I saw the edge of the city and heard the sound of horns above the tail end of Bon Jovi’s “Living on a Prayer”.

  2

  Emily

  WHAT IS THAT annoying noise that keeps interrupting my rest in the hammock?

  Oh good, it’s stopped. I could feel the warmth of the sun on my body all the way into my muscles. It must’ve been the direction of the sun because I could feel the warmth more from the waist down. There was that noise again, spoiling my relaxation. It was getting louder and the warmth I was feeling now also felt damp. Actually, more than damp - I felt wet. Why do I feel wet but warm? And wait - that noise. Oh, far out that is my alarm clock! Crap, it can’t be morning already! I have only just got into bed. As I tried to rollover and hit the alarm clock to shut off the annoying noise, I felt a little speed hump in my bed. Samuel, oh man. When did he arrive in my bed during the night? I was so exhausted that I didn’t even hear or feel his arrival.