by Smith, Wendy
Lily sucks in her bottom lip, looking between the two of us. She sighs. “Fine. Max. Be good for Adam.” Running her fingers through his hair, she bends and kisses his cheek. He rolls his eyes, but leans into her. They’re clearly very close.
If she weren’t so tired, I’m guessing she’d never let this ride, but she does, and as she walks to the kitchen door, she turns and meets my eyes, a grateful smile on her face. My heart’s in my throat all over again. She’s still so beautiful.
What happened?
9
Lily
I feel as if I’ve been sleeping forever when I open my eyes. The clock beside the bed tells me it’s 5.16 p.m., and the scent of spaghetti and meatballs floats through the air. It’s not unusual. It’s Max’s favourite dish, and he could eat it for every meal. No doubt he’s told Adam all about it.
Adam. I don’t know why I trust him; I’ve got no cause to, but he brought Max home, even if it made my blood boil to see Max in his car. Max is my whole heart, but he could well be the death of me and himself one day. It’s a fine line we walk. As he gets older, he understands more, but I’m less likely to be able to control him.
Every day gets simultaneously easier and harder somehow.
For twelve years, I’ve managed to eke out an existence here. We lost the house to the bank when Mum died. Selling the contents has given me bits of income I supplement with the small flock of sheep Mrs Murphy left me and a top-up I get from welfare. It’s not much, but we get by.
I sit up and throw my legs over the side of the bed. My jeans are on the floor where I dropped them, and I pull them up, noting they’re no longer getting stuck on my ankles or hips. Feeding a pre-teen means sacrifices.
Making my way down the narrow stairs, I turn the corner and enter the kitchen. Max sits quietly at the table, reading a book, while Adam stands at the stove. The sight makes me want to cry. This was what I dreamed of for so long. The impossible dream.
“Hey.” My voice cracks as I speak. “That smells amazing.”
Max looks up, that cheeky grin of his lighting up the room. “Mum, Adam’s making my favourite.”
“I could smell that from upstairs.” My gaze locks with Adam’s.
“I hope you don’t mind. I raided the freezer.”
My heart sinks. Of course he has.
Walking across the kitchen, I open the freezer door. He’s used two freezer bags of meat. I portion it out to last. I hold my breath and stop myself from sighing. It’s not his fault. He wasn’t to know.
We’ll make it work. We always do.
“Food’s nearly ready,” Adam says. “Take a seat, Lily. I’ll serve it up.”
I grab a jug of orange cordial from the fridge and throw in some ice cubes from the freezer. As I take it to the table, I grab a stack of plastic cups along the way.
Pouring Max a drink, I sit next to him.
“I made enough for more than just the three of us. I guess though maybe you have a husband to feed too?”
I lift my head slowly until our gazes lock. Is that him digging for information, or is he just being polite? It’s so weird him being here, uncomfortable, and yet the way it’s meant to be. Maybe that’s just wishful thinking.
“No, just us. Whatever’s left we’ll eat tomorrow.”
He licks his lips and pauses before turning back to the stove. “Of course how much is left depends on how much Max eats.”
I laugh. Max can eat seconds and has been known to eat thirds. The more he eats, the less I do. It’s worth it, though, to see my boy growing up happy and healthy.
Adam places plates of spaghetti in front of us, and the smell of tomato and meat is divine. My mouth waters as he passes me a fork.
“This looks amazing,” I say.
“I aim to please.” He waggles his eyebrows, and my stomach somersaults in direct defiance to how I want to feel. Because I don’t want to feel anything.
Max stabs a meatball, and twirls his pasta around his fork over and over. He’s eaten this so many times he’s an expert in it. Watching him enjoy it is an eternal delight. He takes a big bite, swallowing a chunk of food.
“Is it good?” I ask.
Max nods enthusiastically. “Soooo good, Mum.”
“Did you doubt my cooking ability?” At the sound of Adam’s voice, I turn my head. He sits opposite us, and my heart pounds just looking at him. How is he doing this to me after all this time? There had been no chance to say goodbye twelve years ago.
“Lily?” He frowns, and I realise I haven’t answered his question. He shouldn’t be here. I should have left him outside and dealt with Max myself. I’ve had enough loss and heartache in the past to last a lifetime. Him being here increases my chances of there being more.
“I’m sorry. I’ll give it a try.” I scoop up a meatball and load my fork with spaghetti. The meat just melts in my mouth, and I swallow my bite and nod. “It’s very nice. When did you learn to cook?” The boy I’d known could barely boil water.
“I’ve picked up a few things over the years. Seem to remember you being pretty good at it.”
I shrug. “Someone had to. It wasn’t like my mother was capable all the time.”
He opens his mouth and then closes it again. Maybe he doesn’t want to dig up the past any more than I do. I have no idea why he’s here, but I’ve heard more than enough stories from his mother to know he hasn’t spent the last twelve years alone. At first I tried so hard to be nice to Joanna Campbell, hoping she would help me, but all she did was break my heart over and over again, telling me about Adam’s conquests.
“I remember you being good at a lot of things,” he says quietly.
A shiver goes through me. He doesn’t have to resort to innuendo to make me blush as my face burns red. Before I met him, I was the shy girl who sat at the back of the class, the girl who was shunned by her peers. Meeting him changed my life; being with him ended in heartbreak.
I can’t continue any conversation, so I focus on the food, picking at it in case Max wants more. I’m so entrenched in that habit I don’t even notice at first the expression on Adam’s face.
“Are you sure you like it?” he asks.
“It’s good. I’m just not a big eater.”
He frowns at my response. Adam might think he knows me better than that, but that was a lifetime ago—before everything changed.
“It’s so good, Mum. I want more.” Max licks his plate clean and holds it up. I laugh, handing him mine.
I can’t bear to look at Adam’s reaction.
“I’ll make a start on the dishes.” I stand, carrying Max’s plate to the bench. Keeping my back turned to the table, I run the hot water and squirt detergent into the sink. I don’t have to turn to know Adam’s got his eyes on my back. I can feel it.
When Max finishes, he joins me at the bench and hands me his fork and plate. “Can I go and get some more of my toys to show Adam?” he asks.
“Sure.” I want this over, but Max enjoys Adam’s company, and I can’t deny I’ve warmed to it. When his eyes aren’t boring through me.
Adam’s breath is hot on the back of my neck as he stands behind me, and I close my eyes as he reaches around and places his plate in the sink. “You didn’t eat a lot.”
“I told you I’m not a big eater.”
“I know that’s not true.”
At one point in my life Adam knew me better than anyone, but that was so long ago and everything has changed. “It might not have been then, but it is now.” I scrub his plate clean and stack it with the others to dry.
“Lily, we really need to talk.”
For a moment, I close my eyes and focus. I have so many questions for him and yet there are a lot of things I just don’t want to know.
“I don’t know if we do.”
His hand on my shoulder sends shivers through me. I want to hate him so much, but I can’t. I’ve always been way too forgiving—my feelings over my long-dead mother are testament to that.
“Lily …”
�
�Adam, come and look at these. I put some of my toys in the living room.” Max comes in, and I turn and smile as he grabs Adam’s hand and leads him out the door.
My past and present are becoming friends.
* * *
Adam and Max sit on the floor playing board games. Max, who’s so full of energy and good at wearing me out, has behaved the whole time as if a spell has been cast over him. He’s not one for new people, or being out of routine, but he and Adam just fit. It’s wonderful and scary.
We turn on the television and watch Finding Nemo. It’s Max’s favourite movie, and we’ve watched it more times than I can count. And yet, every single time that moment when Nemo is taken by the diver and calls for his father breaks my heart. I bite my lip and blink so the tears can’t start. The last thing I want to do is break down in front of Adam.
“Are you okay?” he whispers.
Crap.
“I’m fine.”
“Mum always cries at this bit.”
I grit my teeth at Max’s words. It’s not his fault. I just don’t want to show any vulnerabilities in front of Adam. Not in my own house.
“Still a softy, then.” His tone isn’t teasing, and he’s right. I think I know more about loss than most people. I didn’t grow up with my father, don’t even remember him, so the scene cuts me to the core.
“I don’t know. Not as much, I don’t think.” I’ve had to be tough, especially with Max. By now I should be used to people looking, people talking about me, but I’ve always done my best to protect Max from it.
Max yawns, and shifts from the floor up to the couch beside me. With Adam on the other side, I have to shuffle over a little, and I’m a lot closer to him than I’d planned to be.
“You okay, bud?” Adam asks.
“He’s tired. It’s been a big day. We got up early to get to the garage. It gets busy there on Saturday mornings.” I ruffle Max’s hair, and he yawns again, leaning up against me.
“So you got your tyre fixed?”
“Sure did.”
“Did you check out a replacement?”
I know he’s asking because he’s concerned, but it’s still none of his business. “Not yet. There’s still some life in that one.”
“Not much. It’s not safe, Lil.” He hasn’t called me that in years. He hasn’t been here to, and no one else has ever called me that. It reeks of familiarity, familiarity he’s not entitled to.
“It’ll do.”
“Lily …”
“Can you two be quiet?” Max is grumpy now. He can’t be far off falling asleep.
“Sorry, sweetheart.” I kiss the top of his head and squeeze him against me. He doesn’t protest—he’s so tired.
Now he’s had his hug, he moves back to the floor, lying on his stomach and propping himself up on his elbows. I know this move. It’s the sign of a boy who’s fighting sleep and is trying every position he can to keep awake.
It doesn’t work, and I smile as his head flops to rest on the ground a few moments later.
“Is he asleep?”
I nod. “I’ll wake him and get him off to bed.”
“Don’t.”
My eyes prick with tears as I watch Adam scoop Max from the floor and into his arms. He’s so gentle, and I guide him up the narrow staircase as he carries Max to his room and places him on the bed. I sit, and pull a blanket over my son, kissing his forehead. He doesn’t even stir.
For a moment, we both watch over Max before Adam follows me out to the hallway and back down the stairs.
“I should go,” he says softly, his gaze penetrating me.
I lower my eyes, unable to take his intensity. “Thanks for taking care of Max. He really loved it.”
He nods. “I’m sorry about what I said before, that was out of line. He’s a good kid. Those other children don’t know what they’re missing out on.”
I bite down on my lower lip to stop it wobbling, tears forming. “He’s the best,” I manage to whisper.
Adam reaches out, touching his palm to my cheek and running his thumb across my lower lip. I have an overwhelming urge to kiss it—perhaps the contact would still my pounding heart. Instead I meet his eyes, still focused on my own.
“Lock the door behind me. Be safe, Lily.”
He withdraws his hand and cool air fills the gap between us. All this time and everything keeping us apart, and I just want him to take me in his arms, kiss me, and make me forget all the time in between exists.
Instead, I nod, unable to speak for fear of telling him what I think. He’s been to my home, satisfying his curiosity. When he leaves town again I’ll have this tiny moment to remember him by. It’s better than the way he left last time.
“Goodnight,” I whisper, the words sounding wholly inadequate for the emotions overwhelming me. The past doesn’t matter; right here and now, I want to be with him.
You’re being stupid.
I follow him to the front door, watching as he makes his way to the car.
“Close the door.”
I tear myself away from looking at him, closing it and flipping the key in the lock before turning to lean my back against the entrance. How, after all this time, is he so perfect?
The car starts up, and some deep urge grabs me, trying to convince me to open the door and call out to him. I hold it in. Max can’t get close to Adam. I’ve already let things slip too far allowing him to stay so long. There was a reason he left the first time—why should now be any different?
As I climb the stairs, I touch my fingers to my lip where Adam’s thumb grazed my skin. His touch still burns, the feeling of his flesh on mine lingering.
My bedroom seems empty and cold, but my body is warm from the rush that Adam gave me. I doubt the feeling is returned—judging by what his mother said, he’s had enough women in his life. What’s one more?
I drop my pants and pull my T-shirt over my head. As I unclip my bra and let it fall to the floor, tiredness overwhelms me. This sensation is nothing new. Between the work I do around the property and keeping up with Max, exhaustion is the standard. I tug my nightgown over my head. Sinking into my bed, I’m lonely for the first time in twelve years.
Damn you, Adam.
He looks better than ever. When I last saw him all those years ago, he was tall and lean, still a boy. Now he’s a man, still with those dark eyes, but with a beard that I never imagined he’d have, and yet it suits him. He’s filled out with those big strong arms of his that look so welcoming. And that chest … I hold my hand out, curling my fingers as if stroking his skin.
I can’t think that way. Not after everything.
I roll over and tug at the top drawer of the bedside cabinet. Feeling around until I find what I’m after, I pull out an old photo from the base. It’s of Adam and I. The last formal dance at school. We were young and so in love. The feeling leaps from the photograph. All we had were eyes for each other.
What happened?
I stroke his face with my thumb, closing my eyes, remembering. When the dance was over, we’d made our way to his car before driving up the old road behind my house to a place where no one would ever find us. In the back seat of the car, we’d had sex for the first time and I still remember every kiss, every touch.
Stop it. This isn’t helping.
I sigh, rolling onto my back and holding the picture up to look at. A year later we were torn apart by circumstances beyond our control.
Tears stream down my face, dropping on the pillow as I roll back onto my side and reach for the light. None of it had been fair, and now I find myself in conflict all over again. In my head, Adam had always been the one who had deserted me, leaving town and never looking back.
In my heart, he never left.
* * *
“Mum, Mum.”
I wake to Max on the other side of my bed, staring at me, his head cocked to the point of almost looking upside down from the position I slept in.
“What’s this?” In his hand is my photo, and he’s gentl
y cradling it as if it’s the most precious thing he’s ever found.
“It’s an old photo of me.”
“You and Adam.”
I smile as best I can. So much for starting fresh this morning. Last night’s thoughts echo through my head. It’ll be a while before I can get rid of them. “That’s right, sweetie. Want some breakfast?”
He stares at the photo, moving around as if he’s trying to look at it from a different angle.
“Max?” All I want is to get it back into the drawer where it’s sat since I moved in.
“Can I have it?” He’s pleading with his eyes, and I always struggle to say no when it gets to that point.
“How about we get a nice frame for it, and we’ll put it on your bedside cabinet? It’ll be safe, and you can look at it whenever you want.” It’s been tucked away safe all this time, I’d rather it stay safe.
He nods, handing the precious photo back to me.
“Can I tell Adam?”
I hold my breath. By now, Adam must have satisfied his curiosity about us. We probably won’t even see him again. What’s the harm?
“Sure, sweetie. If he comes by again, you can tell him.”
Max smiles and leans over, kissing me on the cheek before climbing off the bed. “See you in the kitchen, Mum. Don’t be late.”
I laugh. “I’ll get dressed and be there in a minute.”
Max rolls his eyes. “Girls always take forever to get ready. Hurry up.”
“Yes, boss.”
I shake my head as he skips off, heading downstairs. He’s coming out of his shell more these days, although I’ve always seen a side of him that no one else has. Where they see a child with learning difficulties, struggling with even basic social skills, all I see is the sun.
He’s my universe.
10
Adam
It’s still early when I arrive home, but the house is dark and quiet. Mum goes to bed by eight these days, and usually Dad is awake, but it looks like this time he’s turned in too. I assume James is out.