by J. M. Adele
“We’re going to A Bay.”
“Alexandria Bay? Isn’t that a nudist beach?”
Baby. The message persisted. My baby? Whose baby? Be more specific, damn it.
“Not anymore,” Ronnie answered.
Rain pelted the windows in a sudden downpour as the thick clouds had night crowding in prematurely.
Veronica.
Ronnie? Wow, really? I had to ask. “Uh, you might want to check it out first or your sisters could cop an eyeful. Are you pregnant?” I didn’t bother pausing before I threw the question out. If she didn’t want to tell me, she wouldn’t.
Her face screwed up, her caramel skin taking on a grey hue. “What!? Fuck, no.”
“Are you sure about that?”
Scowling, she shoved the mop back in the bucket, dirty water splashing over the sides.
The front door swung open, briefly letting in the roar of the rain and wind. Ben! He was home early. “Babe, you okay?” His voice echoed from the entryway.
“Yeah. Ronnie’s here.”
He moved into view, but didn’t come closer. The contours of his chest were visible through the saturated fabric of his dress shirt. “Yeah, I saw her car.” His feet squelched on the floor tiles as he proceeded towards the hallway.
Not so fun having to park in the driveway, hey, Benny-boy?
“Hey, Ronnie.” He lifted his chin at her before his gaze shifted to me. “I’m just gonna grab a hot shower and change into dry clothes.” He disappeared behind the wall.
“Okay,” I shouted.
Ronnie wheeled the bucket towards the front, mopping away the trail Ben had left in his wake. She traced his steps and I lost sight of her for a minute. Metal clanged against metal and water gushed and gurgled before she reappeared without the cleaning equipment. “Now that you’re all good, I’ll head off.”
“In the middle of a storm?”
“Yeah, I’ll be fine. It’s not that far.”
“Just wait it out a bit longer.”
“No, it’s going to be like this all night.”
What? “Hand me my phone, please.”
Rolling her eyes, she fished it out of my bag and passed it over. I tapped the screen, opening the Bureau of Meteorology app. “The radar shows it’s moving pretty quickly. Should be cleared within the hour.”
She propped her hands on her hips and raised her eyebrows. “Nope. The storm is intensifying. If I don’t go now, I’ll have to stay the night.”
Okay, I know that look. If I had to bet on the bureau versus Ronnie, I’d pick Ronnie’s predictions every time. “Alrighty, then. Gimme a hug goodbye and don’t forget to text me when you get home.”
I pushed on the cushions in an attempt to sit up, but she shook her head. “No, don’t move. You’re good where you are.” Leaning down awkwardly, she patted me on the shoulder and pressed her cheek to mine. “Merry Christmas. See ya on the flip side.”
Flip side? She’d been saying goodbye to me like that for the last five days—since I’d hit my due date. Whether the flip side was motherhood or not, I didn’t know. I always hoped it was her way of telling me the baby would be here soon. But I was still pregnant, so ... I had an awful feeling the flip side was something more final.
Ronnie straightened, her hand brushing my belly. She froze. All colour drained from her face. She almost could’ve impersonated a sheet of paper. Her throat moved like she had something stuck in her pipe as she whipped her hand away. That dark gaze collided with mine for a fleeting moment and she mouthed, “Bye,” before she practically vanished.
What the hell was that?
I was left blinking at the empty space she’d left for five minutes while I rubbed my belly, more to reassure myself than because the baby was doing gymnastics.
“Hey, babe.” Ben pressed a kiss on my lips. He cupped his hands around my stomach and using them like a megaphone to speak to the baby. “I got you a present today, little man, but you’ve gotta come out to get it.”
“Ooh, what’d ya get?”
“His first rugby ball.” Ben pulled out a fluffy blue and yellow ball from a paper bag. Embroidered on the side it said, I wanna be a Wallaby. “I think it’s a knock-off, but it’s the fluffiest one I could find. I got him a Wally the Wallaby, too. And for you, I got Häagen-Dazs, Caramel Biscuit and Cream Speculoos.”
Saliva pooled in my mouth and I had to swallow. “Oh my God. I love you. You stopped on your way home in a storm to bring me ice cream?”
“Yes, I did.”
“You’re crazy.”
“Possibly.” He crossed his eyes, grinning. “You look exhausted. Why don’t you have a nap before dinner?” I opened my mouth to speak but his finger landed on my lips in a clear shh signal. “And you’ve slept through plenty of storms, so don’t give me that excuse. You know it’s going to be me waking up to the baby. You sleep like the dead. Don’t worry. I’ll teach him how to latch on. You won’t even have to move.”
“I already had a nap, dirty bugger.” I spoke against his finger before kissing it.
My dirty bugger. There were so many reasons why I’d married this man. Why, despite all the signs telling me that it was impossible for us to be together, I never gave up hope. He was mine and I was his. I would never regret a thing that had happened between us, good or bad. It all had to happen the way it did.
Even the near-drowning. And the pain that came after it.
I’d go through it all again for him.
Andrea
Rockhampton, Australia
20th May, 2006
Leaning against the chain-wire fence, I released a sigh. It was Dad’s weekend to have us. That meant at least one day spent at a rugby field. Today, Stewart’s team had a home game. It was now three months into rugby season and I hadn’t spotted Ben at any of the games. But why would I when he would likely be elsewhere playing union? Still, the anticipation of seeing him had my nerves buzzing every weekend.
We went to the same high school, I discovered, but I’d only caught glimpses from afar. Seriously, how had I not found out sooner? Probably because a gaggle of lusting females surrounded him everywhere he went. Ben was in year eleven and I was only in year nine. The seniors didn’t mix with the juniors. It was an unspoken rule, if not encouraged by the school with their separate areas for each level.
I’d seen plenty of Lee, however. Almost too much at the last game when the opposition used his shorts as a handle. I learned that his freckles didn’t stop at his tan line. When had his butt been exposed to the sun in order for the freckles to form?
Today I would see Ben. How did I know? Well, I didn’t know exactly. Nobody had told me. I just felt him near. It was this tug in my chest, and a trip and tumble in my pulse. It was hard to explain. Okay, maybe I am a fruit cake. Maybe I was making fairy dust and unicorns out of dirt and desperation. Rockhampton was the cattle capital of Australia. And where there were bulls, there was plenty of shit to go with them.
Shake it off. It’s all in your head.
Clouds spread a splotchy blanket of shade over the grounds. I wore my raincoat, just in case. Dad set up his folding chair in his usual spot on the sideline and pulled a beer from the esky before using it as a footrest. He only ever had one per game and it was a light beer. The limit on alcohol had been introduced since he’d married Anna. When he was with Mum, he used to come home with a six-pack of cold ones almost every day. If a guy has to anaesthetise himself with alcohol on a daily basis, he isn’t happy where he is. Just sayin’.
Will crouched a few feet away, drawing pictures in the gravel with his umbrella. His vibrant yellow raincoat presented a bright spot on a dull day. He loved rugby, but he found being a spectator boring. I wholeheartedly agreed with him. Spending more than an hour watching my big brother was not my idea of fun.
I squatted to Will’s level. “Do you wanna go to the canteen?”
Light brown hair fell across his eyes as his head popped up. “Yeah. Can I have lollies?”
Maybe not loll
ies, but I wasn’t going to tell him that. I needed to be a responsible big sister and it was only ten in the morning.
“Dad, can we have some money, please?”
“What for?” He looked at me like I’d slapped him. “I’ve got drinks and snacks in the esky.”
“Aw, come on. What’s a game of rugby without a trip to the canteen?”
Grumbling, he pulled a five-dollar bill from his wallet.
“Thanks.” I grabbed it and motioned for Will to follow me.
Lee trotted past, a grass stain colouring the back of his light blue shirt. “Hey, Andy.”
“Is your drawstring tied nice and tight today? I don’t wanna see your plumber’s crack.” I wasn’t going to let him live down the freckle display.
He ducked his head, mumbling, “Yeah, jeez.”
“Is your sister here?”
“Yep.” He pointed to the opposite sideline from where we were camped. “She’s not staying, though.”
“Alrighty, well, you and your freckles have fun out there.” I gave him a wink, grinning.
We made our way around the pitch, stopping to chat several times as we got closer to the little shed that was the canteen.
Will tugged on my arm. “Would ya stop talking? I’m hungry.”
“Okay, monster.”
By the time we got there, the line had dispersed. Every weekend I was guaranteed to find Mel, a stout woman with maroon hair, behind the counter. If the canteen wasn’t so tiny, I would’ve sworn she lived in there. I bought Will a chocolate brownie. That was better than lollies, right? “Thanks, Melly. Let me know if you need help next fortnight.”
“I can always use a hand, darl.” She waved us off just as the whistle blew for kick-off.
“Okay, I’ll see you then.” I turned to hand Will the food, glancing up to watch the game. My hand went limp, nearly dropping the paper bag as I did a double take. “Shit. I was right.” Ben’s buns were on display in rugby shorts a size too small just metres away. My heart tripped over itself. What was he doing playing league? And for the opposition?
“Swear jar,” Will absently commented before breaking off a piece of the dessert and shoving it in his gob.
Crap. I said that out loud. I screwed my mouth up and pinched a chunk of the choc delight.
“Hey, Ben’s here.”
My eyes shot to my little brother. “You know Ben?”
“Yeah. He’s Adam’s big brother.”
“Adam, your friend from class?” Will always talked about Adam like they were joined at the hip.
“Yep. I wonder if he’s here, too.” Will’s neck craned, as he scanned the crowd.
Interesting. Ben had a little brother the same age as Will. I tuned out, my mind wandering to a fantasy world of possibilities. I stopped myself from imagining Ben as the father of my children. Just.
“So Adam is eight years younger than Ben?” I shamelessly picked Will’s brains.
“Yeah. They have different dads.”
Is that right? Had his parents split, or was Adam a love child and the parents had decided to stay together after the infidelity?
A drop of rain landed on my cheek. This game was gonna get messy. So was my probing if I wasn’t too careful. Will was a smart kid. If he figured out I had a crush on Ben, he’d go and tell Adam, if not Ben himself.
My fears didn’t stop me from asking more questions, though. “Does he have any other siblings?”
“Nope. Just Ben.”
I had to pause. I had been asking about Ben because that was where my mind had gone, but I hadn’t explained that to Will. He’d still been talking about Adam. I could ask all about Adam and find out the same info without incriminating myself. Win, win.
“So, his mum and dad split? Did his mum remarry?” Okay, slow down. One question at a time.
“No. His parents are married.”
Oh, shit. That’s right. I was supposed to be asking about Adam. Shut up, Andy. Just shut up.
“Do you know if Ben’s dad remarried?” I immediately bit my tongue. Fuck.
“Go, Stew!” Will’s attention had diverted to the game.
Thank God. Why couldn’t I control my mouth?
“What?!” He threw his arms in the air as the whistle blew.
I didn’t see what had happened, but the ref gave possession to Ben’s team and Stewart’s face twisted in anger as his mouth flapped.
“The ref has his head up his arse,” Will spat.
My eyelids peeled back. “I beg your pardon?”
“What? Arse isn’t a swear word. Dad says it all the time.”
“Dad says a lot of words that you shouldn’t be saying. Now who owes the swear jar?”
“You won’t dob on me.”
I jammed my hands on my hips. “Is that right?”
“Yup.” He nodded.
“Why’s that?”
“’Cause if you do, I’ll tell everyone you like Ben.”
My jaw hit the turf. You, manipulative, perceptive little shit. I clamped my teeth together before turning away to walk back towards Dad. There was no point denying it. My face couldn’t lie for shit.
“I’m going to see what snacks Dad has. You coming?”
“Yeah.” His eyes widened. “Are you angry with me?”
“No. I’m just hungry.” I may have stomped rather than walked behind the scattering of spectators. I wasn’t mad at him for calling me out. I was pissed at myself for being so tragically obvious.
“You talk about him in your sleep.”
I pulled to a stop. What? Oh, my God. It was worse than I thought. Narrowing my eyes, I stared at the ground. Will walked on ahead for a few more steps before searching for me.
“What do I say?” I chewed on my lip.
“Ben, mumble, mumble. Baby, mumble, mumble. I dunno. It was gibberish.” Will paused to lick his fingers. “You also said M. E. Line.”
What the hell does M. E. Line mean? I rubbed my hands on my denim-covered thighs before hiding them in my raincoat pockets. Had I always talked in my sleep? What else had I been saying?
I made my feet move as my head tried to sort through his revelations. Glancing back to the game, I sought out Ben’s dark hair. What was it about him? Why was my attraction to him so strong that he was invading my dreams?
Ben’s teeth bared in animalistic rage as he hunted his prey—the ball. His arm hooked around the waist of a player from our team, felling him so he couldn’t dispose of the ball. I searched all the faces. Every player had transformed from son and brother to hunter and the hunted. I half expected to see fur, feathers, and scales catching on the wind. Why did everyone like this game so much? Why was this brutality celebrated? Did I really want to be with someone who loved smacking down the enemy on his days off? I listed the cons and laid them out like stepping stones leading in a whole other direction. A path that was safe and stable and wouldn’t make me feel as off balance as I’d felt the moment I’d set eyes on Ben.
Yeah, my heart was playing tricks on me. I’m good. We’re good. It’s all good. I let out a breath.
“Hey, Adam,” Will chirped.
I found my seat, smiling as my little brother dumped the paper bag on his chair and ran off with his friend.
Adam’s hair was just as dark as his brother’s. His eyes were brown, though. Maybe it was too early to tell, but he wasn’t going to be as big as Ben. Will was at least two inches taller than Adam.
They came running back as Dad jumped out of his chair, yelling and whistling.
“Did Stew get a try?” Will asked.
Dad reclaimed his seat and picked up his can. “Nah, but he set it up.”
Will’s shoulders shrugged, like that wasn’t impressive enough for a show of enthusiasm. “This is my sister, Andy. And my dad.” He told Adam, pointing a finger at each of us in introduction.
“Hey, Adam. Nice to meet you.” Oh, he was a cutie. He gave me a shy wave and glanced at the back of Dad’s head. Dad was too enthralled in the game to notice we had
a visitor. I felt sorry for the kid, but he wasn’t going to get much out of Dad until the final siren.
I knew just how to keep the boys’ minds occupied and their energy spent.
“Do you guys wanna race?”
“I bet we can beat you to the try line.” Will wore a cheeky, gap-toothed smile.
“I bet you can, too, but I’m gonna give you a run for your money. What’s your wager?”
“My way—what?” He scrunched his blond brows and pointed to the end of the field. “That way ... duh.” Rolling his eyes like I was an imbecile, he crouched in a racing stance.
I had to giggle under my breath. He liked to think he was the same age as me—fourteen—rather than the reality that was six years shy of his ambition. Adam followed his lead, lining up to go.
“A wager is a bet. You said you bet you can beat me. So what do I win if you lose?” I tapped my finger on my chin and gave him my most serious face. “I know. If I win, you have to draw me a picture of my favourite person. What would you like if you win?”
Adam’s eyes squinted and he bit his lip, mining for the answer.
“Easy. An ice cream. Double scoop. Chocolate.” Will grinned and rubbed his palms together.
“Ice cream. Yeah, I want that, too.” Adam’s head bobbed as his decision was made.
Will smiled at his friend. Watching his freckled face, the centre of my chest tugged just like it did every time we saw each other. I loved this kid to bits even though he was a pain in the butt sometimes. I hated the inevitable parting of ways every second Sunday. I was so glad he’d found a friend.
“Okay, but only if Dad agrees to drive us. I’m not giving you a piggyback into town.”
Holding out my hand for him to shake, he took it like we were sealing a billion-dollar merger. “Deal.”
I shook Adam’s hand too, not knowing how I’d deliver if he won, but I’d figure something out.
The game on the field continued, with the shouts of the players and referees not quite as loud as the spectators’ shows of enthusiasm. My father included. “Ca’arn, Stewart! Get in there, son.”