Book Four: Thirty Days, Book 4

by Bibi Paterson

  Stix returns with a tray piled high with slices of buttery toast and a pot of tea for herself. “I thought you might be peckish,” she comments as she places the plate where I can reach it.

  “Oh, you are amazing, Stix,” I breath as I help myself to a slice of hot, buttered toast.

  “Hmm, something smells good,” Taylor comments as he walks into the room, a very wide-awake Millie cradled in his arms.

  “Your sister has been amazing and made enough toast to feed a small army,” I say gesturing to the plate.

  “Yum,” Taylor responds, swiping a piece and taking a giant bite out of the slice.

  “Gimme,” Stix says holding her arms. “I want to cuddle my niece.”

  Taylor gently places her into Stix’s arms and she starts to gurgle excitedly as if recognising her aunt. “She likes me,” Stix coos, placing her little finger into Millie’s and smiling as she grips it tightly.

  Taylor comes over to me and drops a gentle kiss onto the top of my head. “How are you feeling this morning, Abs?” he asks.

  “Getting there,” I respond. “Better than yesterday. The pain is now more of a dull ache rather than the kind of shooting pain that I had been getting. I’ll be glad through when I can finally lift something more than a cup of tea,” I quip.

  “One day at a time, Abs,” Taylor responds.

  “Yeah, I know,” I say. “At least it wasn’t my right shoulders otherwise I really would be screwed.”

  Millie starts to make the little mewling sounds that she makes when she is hungry so Taylor gets up to make her a bottle. When he returns a minute later, Stix insists that she wants to feed her so we let her get on with it. I can’t help but feel grateful to have an extra pair of hands at home, especially as I know Taylor will need to be heading back to the office next week.

  While he has tried to reduce down the number of meetings he has scheduled, there are some he just couldn’t rearrange. Apart from that he has planned to work from home for the next few weeks popping into the office briefly a couple times a week. At least with Stix here I won’t have to fend for myself entirely.

  The outpouring of support from his staff has been overwhelming for Taylor; if he was ever in doubt of their loyalty, then this incident has shown him just how much they care, for him and for me. Flowers, chocolates and balloons fill the flat and cards adorn every available surface. I guess it’s not every day you watch your boss face-off with his evil twin brother armed with a gun. I’m just relieved that the room had been cleared of all the guests by the time Richard actually pulled the trigger. That’s not an image anyone should have to live with.

  Taylor and Stix are chatting quietly as Millie guzzles down her milk so I take a minute to watch them. Despite her positive demeanour, I can see all this is affecting Stix and I make a mental note to have a chat with Taylor about getting an appointment with Dr Grohl. First her father’s death, then her mother’s subsequent breakdown and her brother being shot while attempting to kill his twin, seriously no one should have to go through that, let alone a sixteen-year-old girl. She’s practically still a baby herself.

  The doorbell chimes and Taylor and I look at each other wondering who it could be. “Um, I hope you don’t mind,” Stix says, suddenly blushing red as she looks down at herself still in her pyjamas. “I asked Chris if he could come over this morning.”

  Taylor is already pounding down the stairs and greeting Chris in a friendly voice before Stix can do a thing. A moment later they both appear, just as Millie is finishing off her bottle. I know Stix is embarrassed at being caught out without her makeup and clothes but Chris doesn’t even seem to notice, greeting us with a smile before dropping down beside Stix.

  “She’s so cute,” he remarks as he brushes her cheek gently. He doesn’t seem to have any of the awkwardness that I would associate with teenage boys around babies but then I remember Stix telling me that he has a two-year-old brother, a very late addition to the family.

  I let out a chuckle and excuse myself as the sudden urge to pee overtakes me, leaving them all chatting about Stix and Chris’ plans for the day.

  .........................

  The rest of the day follows a similar pattern with visitors popping in and out bringing with them food and gifts for Millie. The relief on people’s faces when they see me has been a stark reminder of what I have been through, despite doing my best just to sweep it under the carpet and forget about it. It's only when Bea says something about ‘crashing’, a nugget of information that I tuck away to confront with Taylor later, that I get the impression that maybe things were more serious than I had been told.

  By the time I am tucked up in bed with Taylor that evening with Millie sleeping beside us peacefully in her basket I’m exhausted. I relish the fact that I can curl my body once again into his, laying my head on his chest and listening to the steady thump of his heart.

  “Taylor?” I murmur. “What did Bea mean about crashing?”

  Taylor lets out a sigh and the tempo of his heartbeat increases. Uh-oh, this can’t be good. “You don’t need to know this, Abs,” Taylor says a little harshly.

  My body tenses as I prepare to snap back at him but then I realise he would only be like this if it were really bad so instead I modulate my voice, “Please, Taylor. I need to know. The not knowing is always worse than guessing or imagining what could have happened.”

  Taylor is quiet for a moment, the only sound in the room being Millie’s gentle snores and squeaks beside us. “After they had taken you into theatre, they had you stabilised but Bean was still in distress. I was waiting outside and I had no idea what was going on because they wouldn’t let me into the theatre room. Suddenly they came out demanding my consent so that they could remove Bean by C-section. They guy was covered in blood, your blood. For the rest of my life, I will never forget that image,” Taylor mutters.

  “I signed the paperwork as quickly as possible but as he ran back through the doors, I could hear people shouting. “We’re losing her,” they were shouting and then I heard someone else calling out that the baby had to come out now. I couldn’t hear anything else but you can imagine what was going through my head.

  “Your mum and dad turned up then, just as they brought Bean out. They had her wrapped in this blanket and they were telling us that she was fine and healthy but all I could think of was you lying on that table; I didn’t know if you were dead or alive. The midwife took Bean down to the maternity ward with your mum to do all the checks and stuff that they normally do but I was just frozen to the spot.

  “The next thing I know this woman in scrubs comes pelting up the corridor carrying bags of blood and then disappears through the door, your door, and all I can hear is them yelling that you are crashing.” Tears slide down Taylor’s face and I gently wipe them away with my thumb. I had no idea it had been that bad.

  “I had to wait over an hour before they came out to tell me that they had stabilised you. The bullet had done so much damage that they were struggling to control the bleeding, and that combined with the trauma of getting Bean out had meant your pressure had dropped. They told me later that you actually died for a minute and that they had to shock you back to life.”

  “Bloody hell, Taylor,” I whisper. “I had no idea.”

  “I know, Abs. I didn’t think you needed to know. I will live with the memory of the fear I felt until the day I die. I didn’t want you to have those images in your head because, believe me, once they are in there you can never get rid of them.”

  “I’m so sorry that you had to go through that alone,” I murmur.

  “I wasn’t alone, Abs. Your dad stayed with me the entire time. He was amazing, an absolute rock. Seriously, I have no idea how I would have gotten through it all if it wasn’t for him.” Taylor falls silent and I know exactly what he’s thinking, that he wished his own father could have been there for him like that.

  I squeeze Taylor tightly, “I’m here, Tay, and I promise you I’m not going anywhere for the rest of o
ur lives. Believe me, I think we’ve earned some peace in our future.

  We lay like that for hours, our limbs entwined so that you wouldn’t be able to tell whose belong to whom. The twinkle of the LED lights that fill the indigo ceiling gives the room a magical quality so that as we chat quietly about plans for the future it really does feel like anything is possible.

  Epilogue

  One year later…

  The atmosphere in Bread & Cake is positively festive and so it should be; we are celebrating Millie Bean’s first birthday. Somehow, over the course of the last year the name began to stick when people kept calling her Bean and then having to correct themselves, despite our efforts to quell it. Though, to be fair, we were probably just as guilty as anyone.

  Pink helium balloons dot the ceiling and bunting in shades of hot pink, purple and lime green line the walls. A towering castle cake sits in one corner and a table adorned with a pile of presents stands in the other.

  Bea and Andreas are laying out cupcakes and sandwiches while a happy little Millie toddles between her favourite grown-ups demanding ‘pickiups’ and cuddles. Taylor swoops down and picks her up, tickling her mercilessly as she squeals and wriggles.

  The past year has been one of the most amazing yet challenging I have ever experienced. The physical aspects of my homecoming were hard enough. The fact that is was three weeks before I could even pick Millie up without pain shooting through me drove me crazy. Once the visitors petered off because of course, everyone had their own lives to get on with, I had to find a way to bond with my daughter who I had barely had a chance to hold. Because of all the medication I had been on and then the ongoing painkillers we had decided that I wasn’t going to breastfeed so I didn’t even have that interaction with her. The only way I could comfortably give her a bottle was for her to be laying on a cushion next to me. Oh, how I envied Taylor and everyone else who could cradle her in their arms.

  Once I was finally signed off by the physical therapist, it was then up to me to ultimately become a proper mother, something that was made increasingly hard by my strong-willed daughter who was determined to push my limits to their maximum.

  It didn’t help of course that Millie has two very stubborn parents, as my mother has repeatedly told me when I have called her to moan about something Millie has or hasn’t done. The amount of meals I have spent hours lovingly preparing only to be tipped dramatically onto the floor in refusal has had me in bits. And then there have been the nappy wars when Millie has just flat out refused to have one on, or then obtusely refused to let me remove her sodden, soiled ones. There have been times when I have been ready to tear my hair out and Taylor has come home to find me in tears because Millie has spent the day screaming as she cuts a tooth. Motherhood has by far been the biggest challenge I have ever faced.

  But conversely it has also brought me the most intense joy I have ever felt. The day Millie took her first steps and the first time she called me ‘mama’ have imprinted themselves on my soul. And then there are the simple things like taking a walk to the playground on the beach and pushing her on the swings as she squeals in delight. Those are the parts of her childhood I’m desperately trying not to take for granted.

  I am surveying the scene in front of me when I notice a figure on the periphery. Turning my head, I see it is Gillian, hanging back as if she is not sure she’s welcome. A year ago she wouldn’t have been but it’s amazing what a breakdown and twelve months of intense therapy can do to a person.

  “Gillian,” I say in greeting as I move across to her with a smile. “I’m so glad you could make it.”

  “Thank you for inviting me, Abby. I’m sorry we are late; the traffic was terrible. Nicola is just parking the car but she will be in in a moment,” Gillian says quietly.

  “It’s no problem,” I say with a smile trying to put her at ease.

  “Gama!” a little voice squeals as Millie barrels through people’s legs. Gillian picks her up and squeezes her tight while singing happy birthday to her. It’s a sight that brings a smile to my face. I cast my gaze over Gillian; she is less made up and tidy than she used to be but the change is refreshing making her look more relaxed and approachable.

  Her demeanour has also changed. Whereas the old Gillian would come across as being very judgemental and abrasive, these days she smiles more and tends to think before she speaks. It has been a very slow process but I think Harold and Richard’s deaths brought a little perspective into her life. She may still not be my favourite person–I can’t forgive and forget everything she allowed to happen to Taylor–but at least we have a decent enough relationship these days.

  Taylor spots us and comes over, greeting his mother with a kiss on her cheek. “Where’s Stix?” he asks just as she comes bursting through the door.

  “Sorry, we’re late,” she says apologetically. “Mum let me drive and the traffic was horrible!”

  Chris rolls his eyes at us. “What she doesn’t say is she planned on wearing these crazy-high heels and then found she couldn’t actually feel the peddles so it took at least twenty minutes for her to find a pair that was, what did you call it, ‘fashionable yet functional’?”

  Stix punches Chris in the arm playfully, “Shhh, don’t tell them all my secrets!” Ever since Stix passed her driving test a couple weeks ago, she has been driving as much as possible; the novelty definitely hasn’t worn off yet. I look down at her feet and comment that the heels she is currently wearing couldn’t have been much better.

  Chris chuckles and responds that Stix ended up wearing a pair of flip flops to drive in and then changed when they arrived. “Took her five minutes to get the bloody things done up,” he grumbles in jest, earning himself another whack.

  Just then Michelle and Marc come through the door laden down with a pile a brightly coloured presents. As I embrace Michelle she whispers into my ear, “I don’t know how you coped with this morning sickness, Abs. Seriously, this sucks.” Michelle leans back and I look at her carefully, noticing that, despite her makeup, she is actually very pale.

  “Go sit, lovely,” I say. “I’ll bring you some ginger tea which should help.” When Michelle had called me a couple weeks ago to say she was pregnant, I was over the moon. She and Marc had got married six weeks after I was shot, the whole horrible affair apparently making them realise that life was too short to wait and spurring them to ‘just get on with it’. And now she is expecting her first baby!

  “Where’s my lovely Goddaughter?” Michelle asks looking around for her.

  “Um, with Gillian and Stix a moment ago,” I respond looking for Millie. Dressed in a fuchsia pink confection of lace and tulle netting she should be impossible to miss but the little minx has a habit of disappearing and then reappearing just when the panic has descended and we are ready to form a search party.

  I hear a little giggle from behind Michelle’s knees and we both glance down to find Millie grinning up at us with a cheeky smile, a sure sign that she’s been to no good. “Come on, Millie Bean,” Michelle says holding out her hand. “I think Auntie Michelle needs to help you unwrap some presents.”

  Michelle gives me a smirk and leads Millie off to a corner where they proceed to unwrap all manner of completely crazy presents for a one-year-old. Never mind, I reassure myself, I’ll be able to get my own back in a while.

  .........................

  The party is in full swing with people dotted around enjoying cake and cups of tea and coffee. Millie Bean has been the belle of the ball but I can see she is starting to get tired so I wander across to where she is pulling at the strings of the balloons.

  “Hey, poppet. Are you ready for a nap?” I ask her squatting down so that I’m eye level with her.

  “No!” she says firmly stomping her little foot defiantly and pursing her lips. It was exactly the reaction I was expecting, after all who wants to leave their own party?

  I am an ‘expert’ now in reverse psychology when it comes to Millie so instead I say, “How about some
milk and a cuddle then?”

  Millie gives me a sideways look as if to say ‘I know your game’ but then gives me a little nod. “Pom Pom,” she says in a firm voice letting me know that she wants a cuddle from my dad. I pick her up and shift her onto my hip; it feels like only other day she would nestle on my chest but now she is too big. I move around the room searching for my dad until I spot him sitting on a sofa chatting to Genevieve.

  “Hey, Dad,” I say. “Millie Bean has opted for milk and a cuddle with you, if that’s okay?”

  “Of course, sweetheart,” my dad responds holding his arms out to his granddaughter. “Come to Pom Pom, angel.” Millie wriggles from me and climbs into his lap eagerly. I quickly fetch her milk and bring it over in the sippy cup Millie has decided she prefers.

  I retreat off to the side of the room for a quiet moment watching as my dad reads to Millie as she drinks her milk. Genevieve is smiling over at her, still as besotted with her as the first time she held Millie.

  Taylor slides in behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist. I lean back and close my eyes for a moment, savouring the comfort of Taylor’s frame behind me. He drops a light kiss onto my head before commenting, “She’s having a great time. I really can’t believe a whole year has gone by.”

  “Tell me about it. Though I feel like I’ve aged about five years in the last twelve months,” I chuckle.

  “Sleep deprivation will do that to you,” Taylor responds and can feel him smiling into my hair.

  We fall silent both contemplating the year that we’ve had. It has been challenging but one of the best years I’ve had in my life so far and I tell this to Taylor.

  “So,” Taylor murmurs into my ear. “What do you do when all your dreams come true?”

  Knowing this is my perfect moment to tell Taylor, I take his hand and slide it down my belly before responding with a broad grin on my face, “You make some new ones.”

  It takes a moment for Taylor to understand my meaning but then he asks excitedly, “You mean… Seriously?”