by Emma Powell
Ryan got the message and returned to the call. ‘She’s in the bath, naked and not even thinking about you.’
Laney waved her hand at Ryan to stop him from going off on a Ryan type tangent.
Ryan sighed, ‘Hang on,’ he covered the microphone this time. ‘But you are naked.’
‘Just tell him I’ll call him back.’
‘Ok hon,’ Ryan replied and returned to the call. ‘She said she’d rather French kiss a skunk than talk to you right now but she’ll call you back. Ok bye have a nice whatever.’
He clicked off the call.
‘Was the skunk thing really necessary?’ Laney sighed.
‘Oh yes it was absolutely necessary, you should’ve heard the little groan he made when I said it.’ Ryan smirked at the memory. ‘Or maybe he groaned when I said you were naked. He’s either suffering or horny. Or both.’
‘Well at least I always know you’ve got my back,’ Laney smiled at her friend.
‘And your front hon,’ said Ryan staring down into the bath. ‘Annnd I can literally see your front.’
Laney looked down and saw that the bubbles had thinned out significantly. ‘Don’t just sit there staring, get me a towel!’ she squealed.
Ryan held a towel up for her to step into. ‘You know, he did sound pretty sorry. Said he just wanted to explain and that you deserved the full truth.’
Laney pulled the plug out of the bath. ‘The truth is he’s with someone else. Nothing else to say really is there?’
‘He did also say that he didn’t want her. He wanted you.’
She stood up and stepped into the towel, tucking it around her as she watched the bath water make its counter clockwise journey down the plughole, squealing as it went.
‘Well he should’ve thought about that before he almost had sex with me,’ she huffed.
Ryan turned her around to face him. ‘You know, Lanes, you are allowed to be happy.’
As she’d expected he’d read her mind. He usually did. It was his and Nerida’s super power when it came to her.
He squeezed her hand. ‘Just call him back when you’re ready. Hear him out. I like the guy.’
‘Well you marry him then,’ Laney chuckled, giving him a light punch on the arm.
‘Oh alright if you insist,’ Ryan gushed.
Just then her phone buzzed deep from the pocket of her jeans that were scrunched up on the floor.
Ryan pulled the phone out of the pocket. On the screen it said Peter, her brother. Laney’s heart dropped and her stomach flew into her mouth simultaneously. She reached for the phone but her hands were still slippery from the soapy bubbles. Put it on speaker.’
Ryan swiped the call to connect and tapped the speaker button.
‘Everything okay, bro?’
‘Not really, sis.’ Peter’s voice crackled with emotion.
Ryan’s worried eyes met hers.
Don’t lose it, Laney. Not yet. Just get the information and go from there.
‘What’s happened?’
There was no response. They leaned into the phone, willing it to answer. After a few moments, there was a rustling on the other end and a different voice, a female voice, came on the line.
‘Laney?’
‘Yes.’ She held her breath.
‘I’m Bec, the district nurse. Your mum’s taken a turn.’
‘Is she…?’
‘No. She’s still with us. But she’s not waking up. I think she’s close. You might want to come home.’
‘I’m on my way.’ Laney threw the towel onto the ground and grabbed her clothes and the phone, disconnecting the call.
Ryan didn’t bother to look away from her nakedness. ‘Want me to drive?’
She nodded, because fear had rendered her capacity for speech, let alone driving, impossible. Standing in the middle of the cosy bathroom, clutching her bundle of clothes to her chest, Laney knew her life was about to change. And she knew she wasn’t ready.
How was she going to do the rest of her life without her mum?
Rich
Rich stood under his rainforest shower with his eyes closed and let the hot water run over him, taking the last remnants of mud with it.
The shower, a new instalment as part of his renovations, was designed with two people in mind. Two rainforest showerheads and enough room to swing a cat. He preferred smaller showers, but the designer had insisted that even though Rich’s current relationship status didn’t need enough room for two, the resale would benefit.
‘And who knows, maybe one day you’ll have a need for it,’ the designer had crooned and winked at Rich who wasn’t sure whether he was being hit on or patronised.
As the water ran down his body, he imagined Laney being that other person. Standing next to him, naked, underneath her own personal showerhead before turning it off and joining him under his. He would take the bar of soap and lather it between his hands while he decided which part of her perfect, freckled, curvy body he would wash first. He decided he would turn her around and pull her to him, pressing his hardness against her and his wet soapy hands would massage the soap across her breasts, her nipples and her stomach. She would spread her legs just enough to allow him to slide in between her thighs and pulse back and forward along her wetness.
He groaned, the fantasy making him rock hard. Keeping his eyes closed he reached down and took himself over the edge, all the while thinking of Laney climaxing with him as he draped himself around her wet, shuddering body.
He leaned forward and steadied himself on the shower wall, sucking in large gulps of air, the intensity of the fantasy surprising him. He could only imagine what having her there in real life would be like but he’d heard nothing back from her and he had resisted a dozen or more times to call back. Maybe he’d leave it and try again tomorrow.
Having gotten his breath back he turned the shower off, realising he’d been in there for almost an hour.
He towelled himself down and ran his hand along the scar that Laney had kissed only hours ago.
It hadn’t bothered Laney at all. Charlotte had been wary of it at first. She’d certainly never kissed it and it had taken her months to be comfortable enough to touch it. In the time they’d been dating – or whatever they’d been doing – she’d never asked about it. She was more interested in what was happening below his waist.
Just then the doorbell rang. His brow knotted. It was late, too late for a visitor or a door-to-door salesperson. He wrapped the towel around his waist and headed downstairs to the front door as it chimed again.
‘Okay. I’m coming!’ he yelled. ‘Jeez.’
He opened the door. Standing there was Charlotte.
‘Housekeeping!’ she exclaimed, trying out his joke, with a lack of conviction. She looked him up and down, but not in a booty call kind of way.
‘Oh hey,’ Rich replied, not quite sure what to do because he was pretty sure he’d never given her his address. They’d always met at hotels and Airbnb’s. Which in and of itself was a pretty good indication that it wasn’t really a relationship.
‘Can I come in?’ Charlotte shuffled her feet, obviously uncomfortable. It wasn’t like her.
‘Sorry of course,’ he waved her in, leading the way into the kitchen. ‘Can I get you anything? A drink?’
‘No I won’t.’
It was all very odd. Firstly that she was at his home. Secondly that he was half naked and she hadn’t even tried to touch him and thirdly she didn’t want a drink. Rich took her hand in his. ‘Charlotte are you ok?’ Her hand was shaking, then he realised her entire body was too.
Then the weirdest thing happened. She started to cry. He’d never actually seen her cry. He pulled her into him, her head resting on his chest and he could feel the wetness of her tears. He stroked her hair, feeling an intense fondness for this woman and was suddenly aware at how vulnerable she felt in his arms. Charlotte, who was always so in control and knew what she wanted at all times. He was desperate to know what had happened but also kne
w her well enough to let her tell him in her own time.
After a few moments she breathed in deeply and sniffed, wiping her tear stained cheeks. She pulled back and looked up at him with wet eyes, ‘Rich, I’m pregnant.’
Rich stared into her bright eyes knowing he should say something supportive and kind.
‘How?’ He shook his head, ‘I mean I know how. But how? Weren’t you on the pill?’
She released herself from his arms and dropped her head. ‘Yes. But because I travel so much I must’ve forgotten it somewhere along the way.’
Rich rubbed his face trying to wipe away the prickly anxiety that had started to stab at his skin. He heard Charlotte take another deep breath and realised this was happening to her. It would change her life completely. And his life probably needed some changing anyway. Time to grow up Rich .
He reached out and took her hand. ‘Ok. It’s going to be fine. We can work this out. I’ll be there for you no matter what you decide.’ The anxiety was slowly being replaced with a nugget of joy at becoming a dad. He liked kids and he enjoyed spending time with his nieces and nephews. They seemed to like him too. Maybe this fatherhood thing would be a good thing. But then again with nephews and nieces he could always hand them back at the end of the day.
‘There’s more.’ Charlotte muttered, hardly audible.
‘Not sure if you can be more pregnant,’ he chuckled trying to lighten the darkness of the mood that had descended.
‘Well, the thing is I don’t know if it’s yours,’ she breathed out in a rush. ‘I’m going to get a paternity test and need a cheek swab from you.’
Rich couldn’t tell what emotion it was that surged through his body. Maybe a little bit of relief that he might not have to be a dad or anger that she’d been sleeping with someone else. And there he was feeling bad about almost having sex with Laney and Charlotte was probably all up in someone else’s groin.
Charlotte pulled a container and a sterile wrapped swab out of her handbag and held it out to him.
‘So you’re not going to tell me who the other possible baby daddy is?’
‘Baby daddys. Plural.’ Charlotte raised her chin and held his gaze, defiant.
Rich’s eyebrows shot up and despite the multitude of emotions coursing through his body, a wide grin crept across his face. ‘A man in every port?’ he chuckled, ‘I’ve got to take my hat off to you Charlotte. You definitely go for what you want.’
Charlotte smiled back, shook her head and cradled her belly, ‘I’m not sure if this is what I want but it definitely wants me.’
She started to cry again. ‘And these fucking hormones are a nightmare.’
Laney
Laney cradled her mum’s hand in hers and painted her nails with the bright orange polish she’d requested the day before.
After Laney and Ryan had rushed to her bedside, thinking it was the end, her mum had rallied and been quite alert for the next twenty-four hours.
She had requested the nail polish, her multi coloured cardigan and a pearl broach of her mother’s. She’d also requested that Laney sing at her funeral. A sing-around-the-house girl from a young age, Laney agreed. How could she not?
That night Laney had sat with her, finally falling asleep awkwardly in the wicker chair next to the bed, only to be woken by the screech of the morphine pump. A kink had developed in the line, so Laney smoothed it out and turned off the alarm.
She glanced down at her mum who, barely awake, was watching her. ‘Thank you my Laney. I love you,’ she whispered and then closed her eyes.
That was a day ago. She hadn’t opened her eyes since.
Her mum was such a force of nature, one of those people who took life by the proverbial balls and made it their own. That’s how Laney wanted to remember her. So she painted her nails, draped the multi coloured cardigan, with the pearl broach pinned to it, around the frail shoulders that had carried the world on them for so long, and sat with her as she faded away.
Laney stood next to her brother as Bec double-checked their mother’s vital signs. Or lack thereof.
Bec raised her head to the siblings and nodded to them with a sad smile. It was official, their mum was gone. She just looked like she was sleeping.
Laney tiptoed to her bedside as if not to wake her and took her hand. It was still warm and soft.
It seemed so strange that she was no longer on this mortal plane. Gone. Just like that. Although it wasn’t just like that. They’d had time to say goodbye and grieve in advance – at least cancer had given them that.
Laney didn’t know how long she’d been crying when she felt a gentle hand undo her grip on her mum and help her walk from the room. She looked across at her angel Ryan who had wet, red eyes. More tears pricked at her eyes and dropped onto his shoulder as they shuffled down the hallway.
‘Oh hun, you’re gonna dehydrate. You need liquid.’
Laney nodded, already knowing that anything she put in her stomach would come straight back up again. They rounded the corner from the hallway into the kitchen where Nerida was waiting with a tear stained face and a tumbler of Scotch whiskey neat, which she handed to her.
‘Here’s one I prepared earlier.’ Nerida smiled through her sadness.
Laney gave her a soft little smile. Now THAT liquid she could stomach. They sat at the kitchen table where Peter was already halfway through his own glass of whiskey. They clinked, raised their glasses to the sky then skolled the liquid medicine.
Peter was the first one to break the silence. ‘So, sis. What are you singing at the funeral?’
Laney, flanked by Nerida and Ryan, watched as the funeral director and her assistant wheeled her mum’s coffin into the little chapel.
Laney felt calm despite this being her final goodbye to her rock, her soft place to fall, her mummy. She put that down to being exhausted as she’d had a total of eight hours sleep over the last three days, and also to the beta blockers Ryan had given her an hour before. She felt all cried out. A bit like the slogan on the front of a baby shampoo bottle – no more tears.
She knew it would be a good turnout because her mum was incredibly loved within the community that she had built around her. Laney wondered why people used the expression ‘a good turnout’ for funerals. Good and funeral were two words that she thought should not be in the same sentence. Laney mused on this as people arrived and hugged her, shook her hand, patted her shoulder and expressed their condolences.
‘Let’s get a cup of tea, Lanes,’ she heard Nerida whisper, her soft hands leading her into a private room next to the chapel.
Peter was already in there. He wasn’t having tea. He was still on the whiskey.
‘I’ll have what he’s having.’ Laney pointed to Peter’s tumbler.
‘Oh, no you won’t.’ Ryan steered her to towards the table laden with mugs and tea bags and bad instant coffee.
‘Oh yes, I will!’ Laney pulled her arm from his and plonked on a chair, helping herself to a swig straight from the bottle of Chivas.
Ryan snatched it away from her. ‘Not with what I gave you, you won’t.’
‘You can have alcohol with beta blockers.’ Laney snatched the bottle back and took another swig.
‘I didn’t give you beta blockers.’
She held the bottle halfway to her lips and glared at Ryan. ‘What did you give me?’
‘Valium.’
Laney set the bottle back on the table. Peter poured himself another glass. ‘I haven’t had Valium so I’m fine.’
‘But I had two.’ Laney held up three fingers.
‘I gave you two – one for now one for later. I told you not to take them both.’ Ryan started to pace.
‘No. You said take both.’ Laney did feel a bit woozy, come to think of it.
‘No. I said DON’T take both.’
‘I’m grieving, Ry! You can’t esspec me to listen proply.’ Laney squeezed her eyes shut to stop the room from spinning but all it did was make her spin out more. She dipped her head between h
er legs and tried to focus on the little loops of carpet to steady her vision.
‘Now look what you’ve done,’ Nerida hissed at Ryan.
‘It’s not my fault,’ he snapped back. ‘She never would’ve made it through the song if I didn’t give her something. You should have seen her this morning. She was a wreck. I had to get her out of the shower. I’ve seen her naked three times this week!’
Laney eased her head up, nice and slow, with one eye shut, which seemed to help the dizziness. ‘Twice naked. Not thrice. I might be todally drug fugged rish now but I can still hear youse.’
‘Well, she won’t be singing anything now anyway.’ Nerida gave Ryan a death stare and handed Laney a glass of water.
Laney stared at it with her one eye. ‘She. She. She. She’s da cat’s muvva.’ She yelled jumping to her feet. ‘And I can sing. And I vill sing. For my muvva.’
And with that she threw the glass of water onto the carpet and ran out of the room, one eye still closed and singing at the top of her lungs.
Peter leaned back into his chair and took a slug of his glass. ‘Atta girl. Mum’d be proud.’
Rich
Three days, one paternity test and a couple of thousand dollars for a rush job later, Rich sat at his kitchen bench and opened the results. He’d stared at the envelope for over half and hour before he got up the courage.
Taking a deep breath he scanned the results. Negative. He was not the baby daddy. One hundred percent not the father. He took a large swig from the wine glass next to him and all he felt was relief. He was relieved that he wasn’t having a baby with Charlotte. But this whole drama had made him realise that he did want kids. He took another sip of wine and smiled to himself at the realisation.
And now that was settled he needed to try Laney again. He grabbed his phone and typed a message to Ryan:
Hi Ryan. Rich here from Xroad. I was just wondering how Laney was?
