by Lea Darragh
‘I don’t like everyone thinking they know me, because they don’t.’
I noted an edge of resentment in his tone. ‘What’s this about, Josh?’
‘You mean you can’t tell by the look on my face?’ I gave him a moment to catch his breath. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I don’t even know how to buy a bloody jumper. I have no bloody idea.’
‘We’ll learn together as we go. We’ll do whatever it takes for this baby, because we love them.’
‘And, how do you know that I’ll fall in love with this child like I should?’
I stopped walking. ‘How do I know I won’t love this child like I should? I don’t think anyone does, Josh.’
He threaded his fingers through his hair. ‘You’re being funny, right?’
‘Not at all,’ I said, steadfast. ‘I have no idea what kind of a mother I’ll be. I mean, I have plans to be the best for our child, but I won’t always be. Being perfect is an impossible task.’
‘What hope do children have, then?’
I stared at him. ‘What are we actually talking about here?’ I said, softening my tone.
‘No one is qualified to raise children.’
‘No one, that’s exactly my point. All we can do is our very best and hope it’s enough. We’re all in the same boat, so I wouldn’t worry about it too much. I bet once you see our child, everything will change.’
He shook his head. Agitation beginning to knit his brow. I was losing him. ‘You can’t guarantee that, Olivia.’
‘No point trying to control the uncontrollable.’ I gazed up into his face, his expression tight, still uneasy. ‘You know that fear you feel about being a good enough support for me, and desperately needing to know if our child is ok?’
He nodded. ‘I’ve felt fear before, but nothing like that.’
‘You know that comes from love, right? It’s instinctive, and you already have it.’
He eyed me, and finally, after a few beats, the beginnings of a smile formed on his lips. ‘You think you have all the answers, don’t you?’
‘Would it make you feel better if I said yes?’
‘Come on,’ he said, taking my hand. ‘I want to show you something.’
‘Where are we going?’
‘You’ll see.’
He led me up and away from the hustle and bustle and through the dunes until we reached the highest peak. In between the sword grass he helped me sit, legs outstretched. The sun began to sink, darkening the vision before us.
‘What am I looking for?’ I whispered after a moment of us both saying nothing.
‘Just close your eyes.’
I did as I was told. A cool breeze washed over me, ushering away the heat from my skin. First, I could hear the ocean, drifting to shore, then the rustle of the sword grass, but as I homed in on the finer details, I could hear Josh’s unsteady breath, as light as the breeze but not as calm. As I concentrated it dissipated, the ocean becoming louder, the breeze becoming a strong gust.
‘Can I open them yet?’ I said, my eyes still closed. When he didn’t answer I opened them anyway. I turned to him, and my heart broke. His face was wet. A small smile tried to lift his expression. I shifted to face him, reaching for his hand. ‘What’s this about?’ I said softly.
He wiped his face, and cleared his throat. ‘This is where they left us.’
‘Who?’ I said, calm and patient, sure he was about to finally open up a little.
‘Andi and I.’
He said nothing more. ‘Please tell me, Josh.’
After a deep sigh, he begun. ‘We were almost seven and eight. This is where our parents brought us on a day like today, just before Christmas. They sat us here in the dunes with a picnic of peanut butter sandwiches and fruit. After lunch they told us that we had to wait here because they had something important to do, so our aunt was coming to pick us up. They told us to close our eyes and not open them until they said so. We did as we were told, but they never told us to open our eyes. They left us here. Our aunt did come hours later. We haven’t had contact with our parents since.’
My heart was a puddle in my chest. I reached out and lifted his face till he met my eyes. ‘Is your mum the woman we saw on the beach the other day?’
He nodded. ‘It was her, and I have no inclination to see her again though.’
‘I can imagine how difficult that could be. I’m so sorry that happened to you and Andi, Josh. It’s truly unfair.’
‘What hope have I got to be a good parent, when all I have to learn from is that?’
‘You won’t abandon your child,’ I told him, my tone robust.
He shrugged. ‘I might. How can I know for sure?’
‘Have you tried to make sense of what they did?’
‘Is there any making sense of doing something like that?’
‘I guess not.’
‘They were young. Sixteen when Andi was born, seventeen when I came along.’
‘That must have been tough,’ I said, but quickly adjusted my response when Josh threw me a look. ‘I’m not excusing them. I’m just saying that desperation and fear can skew any semblance of common sense.’
‘They could have tried to keep in contact.’
‘That’s a good point. What happened after that day?’ I said, needing to know more in order to fully help him through this.
‘We stayed with our aunt but I knew she resented us. I became a handful, like a real handful,’ he assured me. ‘And I went into the foster system. Being separated from Andi made things worse. We went to the same school though, most of the time. We always managed to find each other. Other than Andi, I never had a true sense of family, you know? I come here to reflect on that day and all the days that came after. I came here after finding out about our baby. It’s such a sad place for me, but every time I come here, I want to walk away from it with a different ending than the one when I was seven. I never want to feel that fear again.’
‘That’s why you never wanted a family of your own.’
‘Exactly.’
Now it all made sense. ‘I don’t blame you.’
‘No?’ he said as if calling out a lie.
‘Not at all.’
‘Most people say I should look forward and know that I’m not like them, my parents.’
‘I’ve been telling you the same thing, about looking forward. But I know it mustn’t be easy and you shouldn’t have to forget, or to discount your past that easily. I think we need to respect where we came from, so that we can build a real future on it. With rejection comes appreciation. With fear comes a motivation to grow. And all these things, if you work hard enough, they can build some pretty amazing relationships. Look at your friendship group. You’re as tight as thieves. They all know what’s most important. You know what you want, maybe you just have stop second-guessing that you can have it.’
He let out a breath. ‘Maybe you’re right.’
‘Tell me all the ways you can love this baby. I mean, obviously they’ll never learn to surf,’ I said with a laugh.
He grinned. ‘Ha, ha.’
‘But photography, discovering nature, that deep need to explore and adventure, what kid wouldn’t want that in their parents?’
‘Maybe.’
‘And these arms that I love being wrapped up in, our child is going to know they’re safe, just by being with you. And your laugh—we’ll laugh with you, and worry with you and live all of life with you, because we’re family. We belong. Plus, my mum said all of the wrong things to me, but I turned out fine, didn’t I?’ I said, pulling a cross-eyed, lolling-tongued face.
He laughed, covering my face with his hand and gently pushing me away. ‘Show-off,’ he said, still laughing.
‘See?’ I said, when he reached out and pulled me closer again. ‘What can ever be so bad when we realise we’re not alone, and that even imperfect we’re enough?’
He leaned over and kissed me. I melted into him as night fully took over. ‘I’m the luckiest man in the world.
’
‘You feel that, even sitting here?’
‘I’m starting to feel it everywhere I go lately. Oh, hey,’ he said. ‘I forgot to ask you after all that’s been happening. So the group have decided to have low-key dinner on Christmas Eve. Making the most of the time we have left together. You want to come?’
‘Are you sure? And I’ve even been thinking about Christmas day with them. Won’t they want it to be just close friends given it’ll be Pete’s …’
‘I want you there,’ he said, assuring me. ‘So does everyone else.’
‘Ok, then,’ I said. ‘If you’re sure.’
‘We’re an “us” now, so we should be together through this, right?’
‘Right.’
Despite the night sinking in, and fear of the impending birth lying dormant in the back of my mind, it was nice to be in his safe hands. Hopefully he trusted that he was, too.
Chapter 9
Draped in a festive-red flowing dress to combat the thirty-degree heat, and ready for Christmas day to get underway, I checked my watch again for the fiftieth time—I was sure we’d agreed on a ten-thirty pick up. I triple-checked my texts to assure myself I wasn’t misunderstanding as I had with the doctor’s appointment, but my SMSs to Josh were truly unanswered, as were the couple of calls I’d made. A knot in my gut gained strength as I replayed our phone conversation from the night before …
‘I’m so sorry I can’t make it to the Christmas Eve party. I’m really not feeling up to it.’
‘That’s ok,’ he said, an edge of deflation in his tone. ‘Should I come and see you after?’
‘That’d be nice, actually. But if it’s late and I don’t answer, it’ll probably be because I’ve flaked out already. I won’t be ignoring you.’
He laughed. ‘I bet you can’t wait for it to be over.’
‘The pregnancy?’
‘Yep, surely there’s only days to go.’
‘Yes and no. Plenty to get through between now and then. The birth is scaring me.’
A beat passed. ‘Me too, Olivia,’ he said. ‘But look what we’ve learned about history repeating.’
‘What have we learned, exactly?’
‘That we don’t have to let it.’
‘This is out of my control, though.’
Another beat. ‘I don’t know what to say to make this feel any better. All I can promise you is that no matter what, you won’t be alone. We’re in this together.’
My heart warmed. ‘That does make me feel better, Josh.’
‘Good,’ he said. ‘I have to go, but hopefully I’ll see you later, if not, I’m still picking you up at ten-thirty tomorrow?’
‘I’ll be ready.’
‘See you then, Liv.’
‘Bye, then.’
And now, I tried really hard not to overthink this, but the suspicion was sneaking in that Josh was as scared as I was, that he could run at any second. This was a reality I should have been more prepared for.
The clocked ticked to eleven-fifteen. It was time to go without him. Maybe he’d meet me there. I climbed into my car where I placed a small gift on my passenger seat. I’d made it for him. A photo frame, ready and waiting for his first photo with his first child. I was excited to create a family unit with him, while still trying to maintain the fact that we were a new couple about to have a huge life change thrust upon us. I didn’t know how we were going to react to that, or where we’d be in three months’ time, but for now, at Christmas, with our child about to be born, I’d wanted to celebrate this moment. I wanted to let him know, that before anything else, no matter what might happen between us, he belonged with his child. As I drove the coastline to The Cove Bar and Grill, I hoped I’d have the chance to.
When I arrived, guests were already milling around in the restaurant and on the upper deck that overlooked Cobblers Cove, sharing festive cheer. There were themed t-shirts and dangling earrings that all screamed CHRISTMAS! It reminded me of my family’s traditions back in Cornwall. The air was humid and promised a late storm, hopefully when all of this day was packed away. The aroma of roasting lamb got my stomach rumbling, as did the fresh seafood! I never really understood not missing something until you couldn’t have it, until I was pregnant. It’s one thing to make a choice not to take part in whatever, but when that choice it taken away, that’s when the heavy-set resentment kicks in. And once I’d walked up the stairs to The Cove Bar and Grill, I saw loved-up couples and families with their children excitedly playing with new toys from the jolly guy. Emmy and Jack were in the kitchen, his hand on her round belly as she held their first child on her hip. She kissed her husband, and it was evident more than ever that this day truly was magical. It sparked hope. I searched around the lively restaurant but there was no sign of him. Josh hadn’t arrived yet, and though I was trying to hold onto it tight, slowly the last of my hope began to slip away. I breathed back tears, pulled my shoulders back and when I saw Brooke waving me over, I went to her, wishing this day would quickly melt away.
‘Hello, there, gorgeous!’ she said hurrying as she navigated the crowd, kissing each of my cheeks when she reached me. ‘Merry Christmas, and happy due date! Look at you! How are you feeling?’
‘Exhausted,’ I laughed, my mood relaxing slightly as she held my belly, her whole demeanour bouncing with delight. ‘But actually energetic. Weird, huh?’
‘Not at all. It means you’re almost ready. Come, meet everyone.’
‘Thank you so much for having me,’ I said as she showed me to my seat.
‘Oh please. It’s my pleasure. Here you are. Oh, where’s Josh? Running late?’
Like a fool I searched around for him again, then sat down. ‘Yes,’ I lied, kind of. He could have been for all I knew.
‘You need a drink, yes?’
My phone buzzed with a message alert, and I quickly plucked it out of my bag. But my hope quickly deflated.
Mum: Merry Australian Christmas, sweetheart xx
Me: Merry early Christmas to you, mum. I’m at a gorgeous restaurant. I can see the ocean. I’ll send photos when I get a chance.
Mum: Looking forward to it. Call you later, sweetheart. We love you.
I tried not to cry. I wanted to tell her that I wasn’t feeling at all well, and that each minute that ticked by, my heart was breaking a little more. But it was Christmas, a time for joy, and I didn’t want to give the pain of rejection free rein, again.
Me: I love you, too xx
I dropped the phone back into my bag. Giving myself one last chance to look for Josh, I scanned the restaurant. Still not here. I retrieved my phone again and tried one last call. No answer. With a deep sigh I realised that was it. This was the first chance to be real, out in the open as a couple, and where was he? The UK for all I knew.
I glanced sideways at the empty chair, wishing Josh was there to reach for my hand, or to slip me a smile, maybe a quick kiss and a whisper into my ear. Anything to show me that I wasn’t alone on a day like today.
I fought to maintain a facade, one of confidence, which took up all of my concentration. If anyone noticed just how terrified I was of doing this alone, that I was preparing for childbirth without a reliable partner, I’d be showered with too much attention. Too many hands on deck, so to speak. That’s the last thing I wanted. If I couldn’t have the father of my child on my side, I didn’t want anyone. Anger began to boil in my chest as laughter lifted the mood surrounding me but didn’t take me with it. I was only really at the lunch because Josh had agreed to go with me; I saw it as a way to start building on our relationship, to become official. I looked around at the festivities, wondering if I’d have enough time to slip out before anyone noticed. I watched as everyone started seating themselves around the table, gushing over the spread of fresh local food and wine. No one was aware of me. Not even Brooke as she enjoyed her family. I could excuse myself for the bathroom and no one would think twice about the pregnant lady needing to go, again …
After lunch, as I stood
on the deck, a staircase down to the car park was offering me a way out. I turned my focus from the view of the ocean and gave it to the gathering, confirming that no one was paying me any attention. I knew I could be out of here in less than three minutes, but then she saw me. Brooke smiled, then mouthed Are you ok? I returned the smile. Fine. I huffed internally as I planted serenity on my face to mask the knot that was tightening around my stomach. I’d stay for dessert, but beyond that I’d run at the first opportunity I saw.
I distracted the other guests with a dazzling smile, and a willingness to take part in the conversation, albeit half-heartedly—to give them something to talk about other than the rejected, empty chair beside me. After a delectable dessert of pavlova adorned with figs and berries, and the sweetest vanilla cream I’d ever tasted—my compliments to the chef—I rubbed my overstretched belly when the baby tried to burst its hip through my skin. As delightful as the food was, a sour taste was left in my mouth because of the taunting empty chair beside me. Completely uncomfortable, physically and emotionally, I wasn’t sure I could keep up the festive charade much longer.
I milled around the outskirts of the gathering, mostly by the veranda again as I gazed out at sea, forgetting all dignity, waiting and waiting for Josh to arrive. I checked my phone again. Still no response. Along with the rejection, worry started to grow. I hoped he was ok. Was he stumbling before this last hurdle? Our last conversation alluded to hesitation on his part. After watching my parents for the past thirty years, I’d learned a thing or two about my dad, about how hard it was for him to placate my mother once she got a raving idea in her head. He never knew what to say to defuse the panic either. Was it just my dad, or just him and Josh, or men in general? I had no idea, but I had to give him some kind of understanding, didn’t I? I wished I could just get past the sting of rejection that was still smarting, because even if he wasn’t ok with this hurdle or whatever, how hard was it to tell me? I’d been open, hadn’t I? Considerate? Patient? I deserved better than silence. I rubbed my face and pinched the ridge of my nose: I was bloody exhausted trying to decipher the message he was giving me. I had to see him. I wanted—no—I needed answers.