Whiskey Lullaby

by Keren Hughes

  I begin to pack away my things, ready to fetch Hardin.

  “That’s so thoughtful, Caleigh. And I’m sure my class would thank you for it. We come in all shapes and sizes, and some are more self-conscious than others. I think some of them think that yoga is only for super skinny women, because that’s mostly what they saw passing by the old studio. In fairness, that’s probably why more didn’t join.”

  “Well, we come in all shapes and sizes, and there are exercises for all. Nobody should feel too self-conscious to come. Everybody is welcome here, and if the abrasive instructor put them off, then no offence meant, but she shouldn’t be in the business.”

  “Well, I heard that she used to be quite sweet and caring, then one day, her partner left her for a younger woman. Rumour is he married her and had kids with her, even though he’d never wanted kids with Karen.”

  “Gosh. Well, I think that would make me terribly sad, but I don’t think it’s something you should take out on other people.”

  “Oh, I totally agree. Some of her older students stayed with her through it because they knew what Karen was like before, but newer students like me could only hack it for a short time.”

  “I don’t blame you, Ali. I think I would have been the same. My instructor before I moved here, she was a lovely woman, had the gentlest nature of anyone I’ve ever known. She helped me heal a little after my husband passed away, but then I didn’t have a class to go to when I moved back to be close to my parents in River’s Edge. That’s one of the reasons I started my own class.”

  “I’m so sorry about your husband,” Ali says with a sad look in her eyes.

  “Thank you. It’s been a few years now, and I’m in a better place than I was. Largely because I have good people around me.”

  My watch beeps, reminding me it’s time to pick Hardin up.

  “Sorry, Ali, that’s my warning that it’s time to go and fetch my son from school.”

  “Oh, right. Sorry to have kept you.”

  “No, no. Honestly, it’s been lovely talking to you.”

  “It’s been lovely talking to you too. You know, you seem like you’ll really fit in around here. A nice, warm and welcoming atmosphere with a lovely, compassionate instructor. You’ll do really well.”

  “Well, take some of these,” I say as I hand her some flyers, “and just let any of your friends know that we can do an all-female class, and I’m sure we can figure out a discount rate for a large number of you.”

  “You’re really too sweet. Thanks, Caleigh. I’ll see you on Friday.”

  “It’ll be nice to see a familiar face,” I reply as I walk her to the door. “If the class keeps growing, I’ll have to assign myself a mnemonic to remember everyone’s names.”

  Ali giggles as we walk out, and I lock the door. She really is a pleasant woman, someone I could see myself becoming firm friends with.

  After fetching Hardin from school, it’s time to do my least favourite kind of shopping—food shopping. If only there was someone to do it all for me. I mean, seriously, I’d rather watch paint dry.

  As I’m walking down the aisle, I see a familiar face. At least I think that’s her; I didn’t get the best look the other day. Saw enough to know how beautiful she was though.

  “The photo doesn’t do him justice,” the woman says.

  “He’s extremely handsome, isn’t he?” says the woman she’s with.

  I walk down the aisle and push my trolley into a gap in the row down the middle of the aisle so I can’t be seen. Hardin’s harder to hide, but thankfully he’s busy deciding what to pick for the treat I promised him.

  “You’re telling me, honey. I’m married to the man, and I have to keep pinching myself to make sure he’s real.”

  The woman she’s with laughs, and I can’t help but feel sucker-punched at the word “married.” When did he get married? Tears sting as I try to bite them back. I don’t want Hardin to see me cry, don’t want to be seen crying in the supermarket either.

  I ought to make a run for it, but it’s like my feet are welded to the floor.

  “I’m holding out hope that I can get meet and greet tickets next time they’re on tour. I think I’d die of a heart attack if I got to see Whiskey Lullaby in the flesh, an arm’s reach from me.”

  I watch as the woman quite literally swoons, and I can’t help but roll my eyes at her. There are two flaws in her thinking. One: Brent is no longer with the band, so she won’t meet him. And two: he’s already married, so it’s not like he’s going to look at her in that way.

  “I’ll see if the hubby can have a word with the boys and get you backstage passes, if you leave me your number. And once again, thank you for coming to my rescue.”

  “You’d do that for me?” the woman squeals, nearly bursting my eardrums.

  “It’s the least I can do. You saved my bacon after all.”

  “I only did what anyone would have done.”

  “Trust me, there are plenty of people around who wouldn’t,” she replies as she places a hand on the other woman’s arm.

  “Honestly, there are some ignorant people in the world, but I believe in paying things forward. Be the good you want to see in the world, that’s what I say.”

  Seriously? Could she be any more like a Hallmark greeting card?

  “Well, I appreciate your kindness. My hubby will too. I don’t know what we would have done if Jessa couldn’t have the turkey nuggets his best friend helped her cook the other day. She’s been nagging since then to have them every single evening.”

  “Well, it sure beats kids wanting nothing more than fast food, honey.”

  “Oh, it sure does. I just kind of believe my daughter has been replaced by an alien.”

  They both chuckle as my heart plummets to my boots. I think I’m going to throw up. Brent not only got married, but he married a single mum? It didn’t take him long to move on, did it? Are single mums his type? Like an insta-family kind of thing without any of the groundwork? Seems like I got out just in time. Hardin and I aren’t anyone’s insta-family. We’re a package deal, but not for a man who sniffs out single mums a mile off so that he doesn’t actually have to conceive the child and do all the usual stuff like changing nappies, feeding, bathing. Shit. I have to get out of here.

  “Mummy, can I choose a magazine instead? I can’t find anything I want,” Hardin says as he runs off towards the magazines––which happen to be right next to the two women––before I can stop him.

  “Hardin, wait,” I call after him.

  I take a couple of deep breaths and try to swallow around the lump in my throat. I feel sick to the pit of my stomach.

  Taking off after him, I see him accidentally bump into Miss Stunning Blonde with Long Legs.

  “Sorry, it was an accident. My shoes are slippery on this floor.” He apologises profusely to her.

  “Don’t worry, young man,” she says as she looks down at him with a smile. “Are you okay? Did you bump yourself on that shelf?”

  He looks at his arm, and that’s when I see it bleeding as he holds it in the air.

  “Oh my, let me go and fetch someone with a first aid kit,” the other lady says as she disappears around the corner.

  “Hardin, honey. How many times do I need to remind you not to run on this floor in your slippery school shoes, huh baby? Are you okay? Does it hurt?” I abandon my trolley and kneel down beside him.

  “Sorry, Mummy,” he cries as he wraps his arms around my neck.

  “Woah, careful little man. Let’s get you cleaned up before you get blood all over your mummy.”

  She smiles down at me, all pearly white teeth and dimples. Damn, she’s so gorgeous. I don’t blame Brent for making a move. If I swung that way, I would have done too. Probably wouldn’t have married her after two minutes, but hey, that’s his lookout.

  “Sorry, Mummy,” Hardin says as he pulls away.

  “It’s okay, baby. I can always wash my clothes. But the nice lady is right, we need to get you clea
ned up.”

  The other lady comes back with a first aider who’s carrying a box.

  “Are you the handsome little fella this nice lady was telling me about?” she asks.

  “Me, handsome?”

  “Oh yes, she definitely means you. She said to look for the most handsome boy in the store. Said he had the brightest smile it could light the whole world.”

  Kneeling down next to him, she asks to see his arm and he shows her without fuss.

  “Ouch, this looks painful. Were your shoes a bit too slippery?”

  “It’s my fault. I ran when Mummy told me not too. She always says my school shoes are too slippery on the tiles.”

  “And she’s right, by the looks of things,” she says as she cleans his arm up.

  “Am I going to have to go to hospital?” he asks with a pout and a wobbly bottom lip.

  The first aider looks up at me with sad eyes.

  “I think so, young man. But I’m sure they’ll give you a lollipop if you’re a brave boy. They do that with my Thomas.”

  “Do they? I promise I’ll be brave. Where does Thomas go to school? How old is he?”

  Ever the chatterbox, even when he’s in pain.

  “He goes to Brookhaven Primary. He’s five.”

  “FIVE?” He yells loud enough to pierce her eardrum. “I’m five and I go to that school. What’s his last name? Mine’s Flynn.”

  “Really? Golly, what a coincidence. Do you know a boy called Thomas Grey?”

  “I do. He’s my best friend. He was the first one to be nice to me when I started there.”

  “Really? What’s your name? Let me guess. It’s Hardin, right?”

  “YES!” he squeals. “How do you know?”

  “Well, Thomas came home the day you started school and started chattering about his new friend, Hardin. He’s talked about you every day since, too.”

  “He has? I love Thomas, because when this boy wasn’t very nice, he stood up for me. When the boy spilled my juice on the table, Thomas gave me twenty pence to buy a new one.”

  “Aw, that’s not very nice is it? Was that boy called Lucas, by any chance?” she asks as she puts a bandage on Hardin’s arm until we can get to hospital.

  “He is, yeah.”

  “He’s not very nice to a lot of people, or so Thomas tells me.”

  “He’s always getting his name put in park.”

  “Well, the teachers must know he’s not very nice if that’s the case.”

  “What does putting someone’s name in park mean?” Miss Gorgeous with Long Legs asks me.

  I briefly explain as best I can. “Oh, there’s this chart on the wall, and all the students’ names are on cards. If you misbehave, you get your name moved down the colour chart or something and being put in park makes you lose your breaktimes.”

  “Hey, you’re Caleigh, right?”

  “I am. How did you know?”

  “Brent talks about you and Hardin all the time. I saw you across the road the other day. I only got a brief glimpse, but a gorgeous woman with pink hair and a son called Hardin—it’s not hard to connect the dots.”

  So, he talks about me to his wife? How odd.

  “All done here, Mum,” the first aider says as she stands.

  “Oh, thank you so much. Sorry, I didn’t get your name.”

  “Anita. Anita Grey.”

  “Thank you, Anita.”

  “It’s my pleasure.”

  She sneakily shows me a lollipop and I nod, allowing her to give it to him.

  “Would you like this, for being such a brave boy?” she asks him.

  “Can I, Mummy?”

  “Of course, baby. You’ve been so brave allowing Anita to clean and bandage you up.”

  “Thank you, Anita,” he says as he wraps her in a hug.

  “You’re very welcome, Hardin. You’re a very brave little soldier. You’ll have to tell Thomas that you might have a cool little scar.”

  “Let me take you to hospital,” Miss Gorgeous with Long Legs offers.

  “It’s okay, I have my car here. Thank you though.”

  “Please, I insist. Your hands are shaking; you’re in no fit state to drive.”

  Are they? I look down at my hands and realise she’s right.

  “Let her take you, miss,” Anita says warmly.

  “Okay, thank you.”

  “I’ll get your shopping packed into bags. Do you have anything frozen? I can take it back home with me and drop it round once you get home if you give me your number.”

  “I do have a few frozen bits, but that hardly matters in the circumstances. Plus, I haven’t even paid yet, and I don’t have cash, only my card.”

  “That’s no problem. Just give me your number.”

  I reel off my mobile number as she types it into her phone.

  “It’s Caleigh, right?”

  “Uh, yeah. Sorry, my brain’s a bit scrambled,” I say as we begin to walk towards the double doors to exit.

  “Don’t worry, Caleigh, you have people who can help you, so just let us. All you need to worry about is Hardin.”

  “I don’t think it’s a very deep cut, if that helps,” Anita says. “He may get stitches or it may just be glue, but either way, he’s a little warrior so he’ll be fine.”

  “Thank you so much for helping, Anita. I remember you from Mrs. Buckle’s class now.”

  “Yes, I’ve seen you waiting for Hardin. I didn’t really pay much attention, even though I should have known by your gorgeous hair. I was too focused on this little man.”

  She ruffles his hair and he looks up at her with a smile.

  “You be good for Mummy now, won’t you, Hardin?”

  “I will. I promise.”

  “You’re a good boy. No wonder my Thomas likes you.”

  We say our goodbyes and get in the car with the woman whose name I still haven’t caught.

  As we make our way to the hospital, she tells me her name is Julia and her daughter is a little younger than Hardin, at only three. She’ll be starting nursery this year.

  Julia seems nice; it’s no wonder Brent set his sights on her. I really need to get over this shit with him. He’s taken now, and I’m fine alone. Well, maybe not fine yet, but I will be once I shake him from my system.

  Julia sits with us as we wait to get Hardin into triage. I try telling her that she should get home, but she says it’s fine because she’s texted her husband and let him know, so he’s taking care of Jessa.

  I feel a pang of jealousy as she speaks about Brent. She really is a very nice person though, and I’m just hoping she makes him as happy as he deserves.

  I send Rhiannon a text but tell her we’re okay, and she doesn’t need to drop everything and rush over like she wants to. She says it must be weird for me when I tell her I’m with Brent’s new partner. I can’t bring myself to say wife, not right now, anyway. Hardin needs me, and I don’t want to waste time explaining it all to Rhi. I’ll chat with her later when I call her to update her on my brave little soldier.

  We get called through to triage by a pretty brunette, and Hardin shows her his war wound.

  “Hi, Hardin, my name is Louise. How did you manage to do this?” she asks as she unwraps the bandage and takes away the blood-soaked gauze.

  “I hit my arm on a shelf when Mummy was shopping.”

  “Oh no, that must have been a very sharp shelf. That’s not good, is it?”

  “It was the edge of a magazine shelf. If you hit that, it can come quite sharp,” Julia says.

  “Ouch, maybe the supermarket should be told, and they could make changes, so this doesn’t happen to anyone else.”

  “I think that’s a good idea you know, Caleigh,” Julia says as she looks at me. “I know his shoes were slippery, but that’s no excuse really. They ought to think of changing to plastic shelving or putting something on the edges of the current shelves.”

  “Am I getting stitches?” Hardin asks Louise as she cleans up the blood.

&nb
sp; “Well, I think this just requires a little glue. I can get a nurse in cubicles to do that for you.”

  “Will it take long to heal? Does he need to take time off school?” I ask.

  “Well, the nurse will give you an aftercare leaflet, but try not to get it wet for the first five days, and if it does get wet, pat it dry, don’t rub. He might be best not going to school tomorrow because he’ll be a bit sore and may need some painkillers. He should be okay to go back in a day or so, depending on how sore it is. The last thing we want is for it to get bumped and split back open and then you end up coming back here for it to be glued again.”

  “Okay, thank you.”

  “Right, Hardin, I’ve put a new gauze over it until the nurse calls you through. Mum, if you want to go back into the waiting room, someone will be with you shortly.”

  “Thank you, Louise.”

  “You’re most welcome.”

  We walk back into the waiting room, and a few minutes later, another nurse calls us through. She shows us into the cubicle and Julia holds my hand as Hardin sits up on the bed and allows the nurse to look at his arm.

  “You’ve been in the wars, young man,” she says with a warm smile.

  “I fell when we were food shopping,” he replies in his ever-chipper way.

  Kids are so resilient, and I am thankful for that right now. I can’t say the same for me. I feel sick as I look at the cut and can’t help but blame myself for his fall.

  “He’ll be okay, Caleigh,” Julia whispers as she squeezes my hand.

  I’m glad she can be so strong, because I feel like a nervous wreck. Hardin’s never had stitches or had a cut glued. He’s never broken a bone, never done anything to end up in hospital. I know it’s almost inevitable, but I feel like the worst mum in the world right now.

  “Okay, now Hardin, I’m going to need you to be very still. Can you do that for me?”

  “Uh-huh,” he confirms with a vigorous nod.

  “Good boy. If you’re brave while I glue this, you can pick a lolly from my jar over there, if it’s okay with your mum.”

  “It’s okay, Anita gave me a lollipop when she cleaned my arm up. You can keep the lolly for the next boy or girl who comes in. They need it more than me.”