by Carrie Adams
I stopped running. Home. A bath. Sleep. What I wouldn’t give…No. How could I not be there?
“Tessa, darling, please. I’m feeling much better. Bea’s been amazing. This is just a relapse, okay?”
“I worry—”
“I know. I would too. But I’ve been good for a long time. In three weeks I’ll be better. The treatment works. I want you to remember it’s a bitch of a disease but it leaves ninety-five percent of us living. I haven’t suddenly jumped to second stage or anything like that, so please, don’t exhaust yourself schlepping up and down here every day imagining the worst, because it isn’t going to happen.”
My throat tightened. Where did all my words go when I needed them most?
“Dad wants a word.”
“Dad! How did he get back?”
“Don’t ask.” My mother chuckled. “Beware, he has the whiff of the evangelical about him. Fish! I mean, honestly.”
“Where’s Bea?”
“Watching TV with Peter and Amber. They’ll leave tomorrow. I wouldn’t hear of them going tonight. It’s been very nice to have them here.”
I felt awkward, redundant, and strangely homesick, standing motionless on the busy London pavement.
“I love you, Tessa,” said my mother.
I felt an overwhelming urge to sit down right there. My energy had left me. “I love you too. Thank you for always being the most brilliant mother.”
Normally, she would have said something jokey, sarcastic, probably along the lines of how I’d buried all the bad memories, but not tonight. “You made it easy,” she replied.
I don’t know why tears kept welling in my eyes. Tiredness, I suppose. “No, Mum, you did.”
I started walking again while I waited for my father to come on the line.
“Hello, precious.”
“Hi, Dad. How did you get back?”
“Peter has some fishermen friends.”
“I thought it was too stormy to cross.”
“This was an old schooner, well versed on the high seas. It was exhilarating.”
“I’m glad I didn’t know.”
“That’s why I didn’t tell you.”
“Is Mum really okay?”
“She will be,” said my father.
I watched as one foot followed the other down to the towpath that would take me home. It was dark already, but I felt too tired to be afraid.
“Dad, James didn’t come home.”
“He’s working, Tessa. Lizzie isn’t his mother.”
“No, she’s mine, and that’s not why I was asking him to come home. His daughters needed a bit of TLC.”
“Peter and Honor will take over now. Bea’s changed her plans. She’s taking the girls to stay with them for Easter.”
“They shouldn’t have to pick up the pieces. It makes me so cross.”
“Why?”
“Because he doesn’t realize we need him.”
“Darling, what the hell do you think he’s doing out there if it isn’t about what you need? He’s going to have to support two families now.”
“He doesn’t even support one, Dad. His ex-mother-in-law does that, and, as you know, I look after myself.”
“And you think he likes that? You think it’s fun that his ex-mother-in-law pays for his children? No wonder he works so hard, Tessa. He needs to make a gigantic leap. And, my sweetheart, such leaps take effort.”
“But it hasn’t happened,” I said disloyally.
“So you’d rather he was the type of man to give up? Come on, Tessa, don’t give him a hard time for trying to do the right thing. That’s not fair. He’s a good man.”
There was that feeling again. My legs had turned to stone. I brushed away an empty crisp packet and sat down on a well-worn bench, then felt guilty and bent down to pick it up. I walked over to a bin and threw it in. “I’m afraid,” I said.
“What of?”
“That the same thing that happened to Bea and James will happen to me and James. He has this way of cutting himself off when things aren’t going so well. He did it to Bea, he’s done it to me over the Amber thing, and he’s doing it again over this. That’s why he hasn’t come back. He doesn’t want to face up to what’s going on. He can’t take responsibility.”
“He doesn’t need to right now. You’re here doing it for him.”
“They’re not my kids!” There. I’d said it. The truth. It was not my problem. My mother was my problem. My aged father. Work. But not some drunken woman whose own sense of regret was wreaking havoc on three young lives. That was not my problem.
“Darling, marriage is all about being a team. He couldn’t be here, so you had to carry the baton alone for a while. You did that. Amber and Bea are okay. When he’s home, he can take over, see with his own eyes what’s going on, and together you can work out what you’re going to do about your respective families. You have backup for the first time in your life. Use it.”
“I tried. He wouldn’t come.”
“Tessa, do you really think that sitting on a plane for eleven hours is the best use of his time? Another thing. If you’d been in L.A. and your mother had needed help, do you think he’d roll over and go back to sleep because she wasn’t his mother?”
I didn’t have to answer that. “I know you’re right. Why, then, do I still feel like this?”
“Like what?”
“Alone.”
“Have you told him that?”
“No.”
“Darling, men are many things but they aren’t mind readers. When I’m being dim, your mother writes me notes. It’s very helpful. Spell it out.”
“What if there are things I don’t understand myself?”
“Like what?”
I looked out over the river to the deluxe flats opposite. “Like feeling insanely jealous of a fourteen-year-old girl?”
“Tell him.”
“And feeling like a second-choice bride?”
“He’d be horrified. Tessa, he couldn’t love you more.”
“I worry he won’t be as interested in our children as he is in his first ones?”
“Have you talked about children?”
“I’ve been too afraid to. I say it’s because I don’t mind, but really I’m terrified about what he’ll say. He’s had three, could he do it all over again?”
“Wouldn’t you rather know than live in fear of an imagined outcome?”
“I suppose so.”
“Stop giving him a hard time over things he doesn’t deserve a hard time over because you don’t have the courage to tell him what’s bothering you.”
“You are way too smart for an old man,” I laughed.
“Your fault for introducing me to Open University. Everyone’s so worried about keeping their hearts healthy. I’ve been more afraid of losing my marbles.”
“No chance of that, Dad. You’re my career adviser, bank manager, accountant, and therapist all rolled into one.”
“All for the price of a pint,” he chuckled. “Go home and call him. Mum’s right, there’s no need to come rushing back here.”
Dad was right too. On all counts. The aging process is a bastard, but wisdom comes no other way. “Dad,” I said, standing up, “will you talk to me for a bit longer? Just while I get off this scary towpath and find myself a cab?”
“It would be my pleasure, my beautiful girl. I’m simply longing to talk to you about fish…”
IT WAS TEN-THIRTY WHEN I let myself into the Hampstead flat. Although mine was closer to the office, I wanted to go home and this was my home now. Where James was. Or wasn’t. But where he’d come back to. Our team headquarters. I threw off my work clothes and dumped them on the chair in our bedroom, cleaned my teeth, and climbed into bed. I left a message on James’s phone, asking him to call me when he was through with his meetings. Whatever time that was. I left all accusations and recriminations out of my voice. I just wanted to hear his.
Despite my ruminations, I was soon deeply asleep, but reared up like
a stallion when I heard the phone. “James?”
“Everything all right?”
“I miss you. Come home.”
“Oh, Tessa—”
“It’s okay. I know you can’t, but I just wanted to tell you that I wish, wish, wish you were here.”
“You know I would be if I could.”
“I do.” I wrapped myself up in the duvet. “I’m sorry I got cross before.”
“Totally understandable.”
“Really? I don’t understand it.”
“They’re my children. You have enough on your plate without having to deal with them and Bea.”
“You do understand,” I said, slightly taken aback. How did he manage to simplify everything?
“I’m not stupid, Tessa.”
I clung to the phone. Actually, I would have liked to crawl into it and magic myself down the line, across the mid-Atlantic ridge, down Route 66, into room 1238 at the Château Marmont. “James, can I say something?”
“Anything.”
“Really? Because sometimes there are things I feel I can’t say.”
“Like?”
“Anything to do with the girls.”
“Come on.”
Okay, I thought, here goes. “Too much attention goes Amber’s way to the detriment of the other two,” I said. “Lulu needs serious help with her reading and writing. But she’s not getting it. You never sit and read with her.”
“There isn’t time.”
“James, you’re doing it again.”
“What?”
“Slamming me down. You do that whenever I try to talk to you about anything that’s a bit difficult.”
“That’s not true.”
“It is. I told you there was a problem between Amber and me, but you didn’t want to talk about it. You wanted to think Bea’s drinking was a one-off. You wouldn’t even entertain the idea that someone other than Caspar ripped that dress—”
“But Amber told—”
“And so did I. But you believed her! Can’t you see that puts me in an impossible position? You make me feel like a second-class citizen when you put Amber first all the time. I get jealous and that makes me feel insecure, and insecurity can turn even the most level-headed woman into a fruitcake. A dangerous one at that. It’s easy to see why stepmothers can become so evil. Our husbands have a love interest who is half our age and twice as beautiful.”
“Please, Tessa, tell me you’re not jealous of Amber?”
I closed my eyes. This was harder than I’d thought it was going to be. “I’m sorry, but if I lie to you now I’ll regret it in the future.” God, I could be Bea talking. “I am jealous. Less so now that I understand her animosity, but I worry that I’ll always feel threatened by the relationship you two have.”
“Trust me,” he said sexily. “I love you in a completely different way.”
I managed a laugh but it was short, small, and shallow. Humor is a great elixir, but it isn’t a miracle cure. “Whatever way you love us, there are still two of us and only one of you. And that’s not to mention the other two.”
“Who?”
“Maddy and Lulu!”
“Tessa, I was joking!”
“This isn’t a time for jokes.”
“Sorry. I didn’t realize humor was banned.”
“Don’t do that, James. Don’t make me out to be the grouch. I don’t want to be Bea.”
“Nor do I.”
“Are you sure?”
“Tessa, I was just trying to lighten the tone.”
“You’re not listening to me. I don’t want you to lighten the tone. I want you to realize how important this is to me.”
“Okay. I’m sorry.” I could hear him breathing down the phone. There was a knock on his door. “Hang on.”
I was tiring from the fight, heaviness creeping up my limbs. I closed my eyes. Then I heard a woman’s voice and the tiredness evaporated.
“Jimbo, come on. It’s drinks time.”
“Down in a minute. Just got to finish a call.”
The door closed and James came back to the phone.
“Who was that?” I asked, though I’d sworn I wouldn’t.
“Agent from the L.A. office.”
“Drinks? Jimbo?”
“I’ll miss them,” said James. “This is more important.”
I pulled the duvet tighter around me. “Is what I’m saying honestly making no sense to you?”
“I suppose Lucy and Faith have made the odd comment—”
“And Bea.”
James sighed.
“It’s okay. You can say her name. It’s when you don’t that I get nervous.”
“Yes, and Bea. So everyone’s telling me I’m making her into a princess. Like that’s a bad thing. Isn’t that what all little girls want to be?”
“Yes and no. It’s complicated.”
“I’ve got three daughters. You’d better explain it.”
“Pretty dresses and being worshipped and adored is all well and good, but we’ve also got to be able to hike up the hem, climb down the tower, and slay the dragon for ourselves.”
“I wouldn’t fancy the dragon’s chances against Amber,” James said.
“No. You and Bea were a good balance. But you may have noticed Bea isn’t around much when I am, so I’m left pretty unsupported, and Amber ends up being overindulged. I don’t have the right to do what Bea does. And I don’t want it. I’m not her mother. You’ve got to be stricter. Or at least fair.”
He sighed again. “You think I let her get away with too much.”
“It’s for her own good, James. Being a daddy’s girl is fine at four, but it’s not such a good look at forty.”
“I know too much attention goes her way, it’s always been like that. I was working when the other two came along but, to be honest, I used that as an excuse not to be so involved. God, this is hard to admit…It does get a bit boring by the third. Who cared if it was pear, banana, or squash? It was all mush to me. There was nothing exciting about changing another stinking nappy. I didn’t spend as much time with Lulu, even less with Maddy, and then I felt guilty. I tell you, with kids you get out what you put in and they didn’t welcome me home every evening with open arms like Amber did.” He cleared his throat. “So, naturally…” His voice faltered.
“And Bea tried to tell you?”
“I used work as an excuse to hide. I’d manage to come up with some inescapable meeting and skip the little ones’ bath and bedtime altogether.”
“I don’t think you’re alone in that.”
“We ended up resenting each other.”
“Easily happens,” I said.
“I don’t want that to happen to us, Tessa. I love you too much.”
“And I love you. That’s why I need to say all these things. It’s too important to fuck up.”
“I’m sorry, my love, I really am. I should have listened to you. I just want us all to be happy. We have so much to be grateful for.”
I wished so much he was lying next to me. I needed to feel his skin. But perhaps we had had to be separated by a continent for this conversation to take place.
“I’ll deal with Amber,” he said.
“She needs you now more than ever.”
“We’ll deal with Amber, then.”
I sighed. “I like the sound of that.”
“I’ll do anything I have to. Anything. Give me a chance to change. I know how costly it is not to. We do this together. We’re a team, right? I do not want to lose you, Tessa King. You. Not Bea.”
The low groan escaped my lips before I could stop it.
“God, I wish I was there in bed with you,” he said.
“Not as much I do.”
“I’d watch you drift off to sleep, and just as the wave caught you, I’d slowly undo the buttons on my old pajamas.”
“How do you know I’m wearing them?”
“You always do when I’m away.”
“How do you know?”
�
�You never put them back.”
“Busted.”
“Ssh, I’m telling you what I’d do to you if I were there.” I sshed. “I’d slip my hand under the material and trace my fingers all over your body. First your breasts, your stomach, then your hips, and, finally, I’d ease open your legs.”
I groaned.
“You’d groan just like that. But you’d still be nestling on the edge of sleep.”
I put my hand down between my legs and imagined it was James. For a few short moments, it almost was.
THE FOLLOWING AFTERNOON I WAS in my office, stifling a yawn, when Linda walked in. Without knocking.
“Number fucking one,” she said.
Whoop-whoop. I forced a smile. “Congratulations.”
“We’re going to the pub to celebrate. You coming?”
“No. I’m going to finish off here and get a train to Oxford.”
“Oxford?”
“My parents.”
“How is she?” asked Linda.
“My mother?” I said coldly. “Well, her eyesight hasn’t returned, but she seems okay. Thanks.”
“Fucking awful disease, MS. My nan had it.”
I nodded in a noncommittal yet sympathetic way. She wasn’t going to get me to roll over that easily. She walked over to my desk and picked up a piece of paper that had nothing to do with her. Then she put it down. “Well, if we’re all out, seems daft you sitting here all conscientious on your fucking tod. May as well go.” Then she left my office. That was as much of an apology as I was going to get. I wasn’t proud, I’d take it. I closed down my computer, took my files with me, and left.
DAD WAS WAITING FOR ME in the doorway when the taxi pulled up. He came down the path to greet me. He looked wonderful. I glanced at my reflection in the side mirror. My hair was filthy, my skin looked gray, my clothes were crumpled, and I smelled of other people’s paninis. But it didn’t matter, because Dad helped me out of the car, enveloped me in his arms, and hugged me for a long time.
“Good news,” he said. “Mum has got a bit of peripheral vision back. Incredible woman.”
“That’s great!” I burst into tears. “Sorry,” I said, wiping my eyes and laughing. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me at the moment.”
“You’re tired,” said my father wisely. I was teetering on the edge after four broken nights. No wonder new mothers went mad.