Don't Leave Me Breathless

by A Kelly

  Carlton gave Joseph a silent ‘yeah, right’.

  Joseph looked at Cornelia, who was once again leaning against his leg and holding his hand. ‘You should join us at the Neptune. You don’t have to stay long.’

  ‘You kidding me?’

  Joseph sighed. ‘Right.’ Then he felt a tug on his shirt.

  ‘Daddy, can we go home?’ whispered Cornelia.

  Joseph pondered. He wasn’t exactly looking forward to the reception at the Neptune. A little girl who’d just lost her mum wanting to be home with her dad would be a good enough excuse. ‘Sure. Let’s go home.’

  Cornelia opened her arms upwards and cocked her head. ‘Oh, all right!’ Joseph stooped and lifted her to his hip.

  ‘Can Carl come?’ she whispered.

  Joseph pondered. ‘Ask him.’

  ‘Would you come?’

  ‘I’m sorry, Cornelia, I have to go.’ Carlton stepped closer to reach out to Cornelia. He held her sister’s hand loosely. ‘Next time, all right?’

  Cornelia nodded.

  ‘Can I give you a lift?’ Joseph asked Carlton.

  ‘Nah. Ta. I’ll see you around!’ Carlton strolled to the other side of the cemetery.

  Piper barked and wagged her tail as soon as Joseph opened the door.

  ‘Pipee-pipee-dippedee-doo!’ Cornelia squealed as the springer spaniel mix jumped to lick her face.

  Piper was eight years old, liver-coloured and dock-tailed. She’d been rescued from a dumpster and Joseph didn’t know anything about her background. Appearance-wise, she looked like a springer spaniel, but vet Caine Lawlor had thought she had pit bull blood, and even collie.

  Piper moved to Joseph.

  ‘Hey buddy!’

  She greeted him with her head down, as if telling Joseph her enthusiasm was under control (although her excessive wagging gave away her excitement).

  ‘Wash your hands,’ Joseph told Cornelia as she ran inside. ‘We’ll have lunch soon.’

  ‘Come, Piper!’ Cornelia called and the mutt duly followed her in.

  Joseph watched the two play while wondering if Cornelia ever remembered the incident in the Blythe River. Perhaps not, she’d only been three then. Piper was the only reason his daughter was still alive and he was sure the bond between the two would never break.

  That same year his hell had begun. It was the year he learned about Emily’s ongoing drug addiction. How had he not seen changes in her? Why hadn’t he confronted her when she was gone two, three days, or a week at a time and came home like a stranger? He’d presumed she had been with another man and he hadn’t wanted to know. He hadn’t wanted to hear what he couldn’t do that those other men could.

  Joseph shook off the memory and checked his half-empty fridge. ‘Cornelia! Are you okay if we have the quiche from last night? I’ll make a banana smoothie for you after that.’

  ‘Of course. The kwish is yummy,’ Cornelia answered through the open sliding door as she played tug-a-war with Piper on the back deck.

  ‘Really?’

  She nodded with a smile. ‘You always make yummy stuff.’

  Joseph had endured Emily’s funeral without tears, despite others crying over the moving sermon – let’s not dwell on what could’ve been but remember what she has given. Yet he cried now on hearing his daughter’s appreciation of his cooking. She had complimented his food many times before, but today it went straight to his heart. Facing the open fridge to hide his tears from Cornelia, he said, ‘You washed your hands?’

  Cornelia’s footsteps were faint; she wanted to surprise him. When Joseph turned, she flashed a big grin, showed him her Piper-slobbered hands and without warning pressed them against Joseph’s tailored pants.

  ‘Eww!’

  Cornelia guffawed and ran. Joseph gave chase, pretending he was a slobber monster. The action didn’t go unnoticed by Piper, who soon joined in and jumped at her two humans alternately. They circled the living room. Until Cornelia caught sight of Emily’s photo on the cabinet.

  Cornelia stood face-to-face with her mother’s close-up photo, as if about to give her a salute.

  Joseph wondered how her little brain processed the concept of a funeral. She had stayed with Caine while Emily had been cremated a couple of days ago. Caine said she didn’t say much, only asking where Joseph was and when he’d be coming back. So, what she knew was probably that Mummy had a long sleep, then disappeared from the hospital bed to somewhere underground, next to the grandpa and grandma she’d never met – in an urn.

  Joseph stooped behind Cornelia and asked, ‘Are you sad?’

  Piper was ready to propel herself for another jump, but as if she knew the mayhem was over, instead she sat quietly next to Cornelia’s feet as if waiting for her to answer Joseph.

  Cornelia shook her head adamantly and asked Joseph the same question.

  ‘Yeah, a little. I will miss Mum,’ he said.

  ‘She never made me yummy stuff.’

  No, Emily had never made Cornelia lunch or dinner. Maybe she never had a chance, or Joseph never gave her a chance. Since the Blythe River incident, and with Emily’s ongoing battle with prescription drugs, he’d never left Cornelia alone with her.

  ‘She tried, but she was sick. She loved you, you know. Are you angry at her?’

  ‘No,’ Cornelia said.

  Joseph kissed her forehead. She was his world. How could Emily have ever thought of terminating her? ‘I can’t be a mother again, Joseph!’ Emily had told him when she was approaching her second trimester. And he’d begged her. He begged her to keep the child.

  ‘Come, let’s get that slobber off your hands and have lunch!’

  Cornelia thought again. ‘Am I going to have a new mummy?’

  Joseph held his breath. ‘Umm… no. I guess. Not any time soon anyway. Do you want a new mummy?’

  She shrugged. ‘Pauline asked about Mummy.’

  Pauline, one of her classmates. ‘Really? When?’

  ‘When Mummy was still sick.’

  ‘What did you tell her?’

  ‘I said Mummy was fine. Just sometimes she got sick so she couldn’t take me to school. Then she asked about you.’

  ‘What did she ask about?’

  ‘Pauline told me it was her mummy who asked. Her mummy wanted to know how you take care of me so well. She thinks you’re hamn-sum. And your… what do you call these?’ She put her fingers on her cheeks.

  ‘Dimples.’

  ‘Yes, she said your dimples are cute.’

  Joseph chuckled. Pauline’s mother was a top baker (she’d often dropped off cakes and muffins at his house), but she had a tendency to make everything sound like a scandal – including Emily’s lack of appearance at school. Or maybe there was truth in what she had heralded. He wouldn’t be surprised if Emily had slept with other men throughout their marriage. He blamed himself for that. Despite his handsomeness, his cute dimples, his pet-shop-owner charm, and an ‘I wish my daddy was like him’ reputation, he wouldn’t expect any woman to accept him once she knew what went on behind closed doors. Not even Pauline’s mother, who had been single for years and had openly declared she was looking for a new man, and perhaps had been hoping Joseph would look her way.

  ‘Pauline doesn’t have a daddy. Who makes her lunch?’

  ‘Her mummy does. I think.’

  ‘Who teaches her stuff?’

  ‘Her mummy does, too, maybe.’

  ‘Pauline sings badly. Her mummy teaches her badly then?’

  ‘And you sing well?’

  ‘Yes!’ Cornelia answered with her chin up. ‘And I play the guitar well. And I swim well.’

  Joseph nodded. He had trained Cornelia to be a strong swimmer after the Blythe River incident. ‘Because you’re my girl.’

  Cornelia switched her attention to Joseph’s medals. ‘I want to swim in the ocean like you.’

  ‘I’ll teach you. We’ll train together.’

  ‘Because you’re my daddy!’ Cornelia pinched Joseph’s cheeks. ‘And I
have… dimml…what are these again?’

  ‘Dimples.’

  She smiled wide and put her fingers in her own dimples. ‘Just like you.’

  Joseph smiled – yes, just like him, but…

  Cornelia’s eyes wandered back to Emily and her whole demeanour changed as she threw Joseph a nervous stare. ‘Are you going to go too? Like Mummy?’

  ‘Come here,’ he said and held her close. ‘No. I’m not going anywhere.’

  ‘Please don’t go, Daddy.’

  For the first time today, his daughter cried. Not for her dead mother, but for fear of losing her daddy. Next to his feet, Piper rolled on her back, rubbing her spine against a worn patch of carpet. Joseph looked at the dog, who soon came over to Cornelia and rubbed her muzzle against the girl’s ankle. Piper, his confidant and daughter’s protector. As he kissed and embraced Cornelia, he prayed that his daughter never found out the truth, though in his mind all he could hear was Emily’s voice echoing over and over: ‘She’s not yours, Joseph.’

  3

  The scars he left behind

  Washington DC, USA

  ‘Hagg!!’

  Summer Rideau kicked her karate instructor’s solar plexus. Marine Sergeant Tim O’Brien stepped back and steadied himself.

  ‘Bloody hell!’ he said, rubbing his mid-section.

  ‘Have I given you something unexpected or what?’

  ‘Whoaah!’ He puffed then took a deep breath.

  ‘You’re just being soft,’ Summer said. She knew he wasn’t.

  ‘Are you gonna grow any taller?’

  ‘I’m sixteen. Theoretically, I’m not gonna.’

  ‘How tall are you now?’

  ‘Five-nine.’

  ‘I’ve got a feeling you will. By then I’ll have retired,’ he said. ‘I noticed your toes are getting stronger.’

  ‘I still prefer the heel kick.’

  ‘Not here, Summer. Try to stick with tradition. Besides, toe kicks can be more powerful. Penetrating.’ Tim nodded at Summer as if saying: like you just did. ‘How did you feel about your breathing?’

  ‘Good, very good. I took up scuba diving. I think it’s helped.’

  Tim nodded again. ‘Next week we should work on your blocks.’

  ‘Chickening out, are you?’

  ‘Don’t be cocky!’

  Summer smirked. Perhaps it was a good thing Tim had suggested blocking practice for next week. Chances were she would be fighting her PMS then; and she would either waste Tim’s time with mediocre kicks, or she would be in the mood to destroy.

  ‘You hungry? We can grab sandwiches from Jack’s and have a picnic at the zoo.’ She flirted – exaggerating her blinking as if she hadn’t meant it.

  He smiled, but Summer could hear his silent sigh.

  ‘Sorry, I have to go,’ he said and took off his Gi jacket.

  She looked at his swelling biceps and tan skin, and that hair on his forearms. She’d meant every blink. She wanted that picnic lunch. Two years she’d known him, and hundreds of karate kicks had been exchanged between them. She was no longer a girl who tried to run away from puberty but she still clung to the hope she would have a real date with him. But as always, he had to go home to his wife.

  What did Sylvia have that she didn’t?

  She’d met Sylvia at the hospital, the day after the mad man in the forest tried to take her. The woman was beautiful and soft-spoken like an angel. She had blonde hair and perfect make-up. She came hand-in-hand with Tim and the two seemed to be so affectionate to each other.

  His physical attractiveness aside, Summer adored Tim because of his belief in her. While others had said: poor girl, you should never go alone in the dark, you must’ve been scared; Tim had told her, in his soldier tone: ‘When you’re well, come to my club. Shotokan Karate. I’ll teach you.’

  And Tim was the only one who knew she’d cut her own thigh that night in the forest. She’d told him six months ago, when Tim had suggested learning some moves to combat knife attacks.

  Summer took off her own Gi jacket and shoved it inside her CamelBak. She didn’t bother putting on a T-shirt on top of her sports bra. She knew Tim looked away. Avoid that cleavage at any cost. Perhaps, too, he wondered how much bigger her breasts were going to grow.

  No. Not Tim. He loved his wife. He held her hand and he kissed her on the lips. A sign of love – or that was what her twin brother Jake always said. Summer usually laughed at this notion, but he could be right after all. Jake, Mr Popular, had so many girlfriends and by his own admission he had only kissed Sofia on the lips. They still seemed to love each other even after they’d broken up. Summer herself had gone out with several boys, but she never kissed them on the lips. It frightened her. Not the kiss itself, but the falling in love that might follow.

  ‘See ya!’ she said, as she opened the door with its coating of Washington DC Karate Academy stickers.

  ‘Are you taking the bus?’

  She shrugged and left the door to shut behind her.

  Tim would be the only boy or man she would consider kissing on the lips. How would it feel? Summer sighed long as she started her walk to the zoo. She grabbed a hot dog from Jack’s, and once she reached the zoo she headed in straight to the American Trail.

  ‘Hey boys!’ Summer greeted the pair of timber wolves who were dozing in the shade. She volunteered at the zoo most weekends (albeit only on cleaning duties) and saw them mid-week after karate, like today. They’d got used to her and, more often than not, like today, they came up to the fence to greet her. She sat on the rock facing the two canines.

  They reminded her of Maya, her beloved German shepherd. They had very similar stares and doggy grins. Her mum had adopted Maya before Summer was born. Most of her friends didn’t remember anything from before their fifth birthday, but Summer’s memory of Maya went back to when Summer was only two – the shepherd jumping into a huge birthday cake her mum had baked for Jake and her. She’d never forget the dog’s cream-covered muzzle – and her mum’s horrified face.

  Wiping her tomato-sauce hands on her pants, she smiled at the wolves who’d been watching her eat and now seemed disappointed. ‘You can’t eat human food.’ She got up. ‘Well, I’m gonna say hello to Professor Eagle and Mr and Mrs Beaver. Take care, boys.’

  She greeted the rest of the animals along the trail then left the zoo. She put on her iPod and jogged home.

  A car honked alongside her. Above Maroon 5’s She Will Be Loved, she heard ‘fuck’ and ‘bitch’ coming from the open window of the car. She slowed down, and the car did, too. When one of the boys gave her a boob-squeezing gesture, she jumped onto the bonnet and flicked them her two middle fingers. She knew the driver would instinctively step on the brake, so before the momentum pushed her back, she leaped, landed on the road like a leopard, and ran to the other side, entering the Piney Branch Park.

  A honking car was nothing new, but Summer hadn’t expected to arrive home to the scene of two, three, four of her twin brother’s friends fleeing out the front door. One of them was Randall O’Brien – he was the only one smiling at her as he went past. From inside the house her dad’s voice roared. He was supposed to be in Philadelphia––

  She threw down her CamelBak and rushed inside.

  When she reached the kitchen where the commotion was coming from, she found Jake, topless, being confronted by their perfectly-suited father. There was writing all over Jake’s chest and back.

  ‘What have I done that you had to sell yourself like that? God dammit, Jake! If that video had reached the embassy…’

  ‘Yeah, yeah… your reputation would be ruined!’ Jake said. ‘How about you fucking that bitch, Charlotte? What if that had reached the embassy?’

  Joseph slapped Jake.

  ‘Dad! Leave him alone!’ Summer stood between Jake and their crimson-faced dad, sensing the confrontation was about to escalate. She walked backwards and pushed her brother away from the kitchen. ‘Jake, what happened?’ she whispered.

  Jake j
ust shook his head. Before he walked to his bedroom, he purposely stepped past Joseph and sneered, ‘At least I wasn’t fucking a whore!’

  Further enraged, Joseph seized the boiling kettle from the stove. As he swung his arm, Summer jumped and shielded her brother.

  She felt one second of heat, then numbness, but she knew hell was raging on her back. She was only wearing a cross-strap sports bra and her skin copped most of the boiling water and hot metal.

  But hell could wait. She turned to Jake who was wrapped in her arms. ‘Jake, you okay? What did those losers do?’

  ‘Summer…’ Joseph said. ‘I’m so sorry…’

  ‘Jake!’ Summer said. ‘Tell me what’s wrong.’

  ‘Nothing…’ Jake cried. ‘We should’ve left him while we could!’

  ‘Jake, just stop the Charlotte thing!’

  ‘He was freakin’ married to that woman, Summer!’ Jake said.

  ‘Summer, I’m sorry!’ Joseph touched her shoulders.

  She got up and pushed her dad against the kitchen bench. ‘You leave my brother alone!’ Her eyeballs swelled with anger. ‘You leave us alone!’

  Jake’s trembling hands failed to hold on to her as she bolted out of the house. Behind her, Joseph yelled at her brother, ‘Look what you made me do!’

  She would deal with her father later. For now…

  ‘Hey! Hey!’ she shouted at the boys strolling towards the next street. They lived in the neighbourhood and they seemed to be taking their sweet time after the rushed exit.

  Summer set aim at Randall. She didn’t care who the perpetrator was, but Randall had to taste it first. He was the only one who’d smiled when the boys had left her house (why would he have smiled knowing Jake was in trouble with their dad!), and he was Tim’s son. She sprinted and pounced at Randall, then grabbed him by the collar. She dragged him to stand up.

  ‘What did you do to him?’

  ‘It was just a prank.’

  ‘What prank?’

  ‘Hazing video.’

  ‘Fuck you, Randall!’ Summer let go.

  ‘It was just boys being boys, Summer. He got two hundred fucking bucks for it. Had it not been for your dad we would’ve had a lot of subscribers!’ He winked at her. ‘Chill out!’