Another week passed before I returned to work. I never thought I’d be as thankful to be a bar maid as I was that first night back. Just being back in the land of the living. Having other adults to talk to. Being dressed in real clothes. If I never pulled on my yoga pants again it would be too soon. At one point I considered setting them alight.
It was Tuesday night and I felt alive again. I’d washed and straightened my hair before pulling it back in a high ponytail. I’d even taken the time to apply my makeup. Even though I’d been out of it for more than a week, the best part was I’d managed to lose that last five kilos that I’d had no amount of trouble trying to shake. The upside was, I was able to squeeze my ass into my favourite skinny jeans. That fact alone had my confidence soaring. Now all I needed was for Nate to come in.
The minutes ticked by, and as much as I didn’t want to admit I was watching the door, every time it creaked I couldn’t help but to look up, hoping. Throughout my two week hibernation I’d dreamt about the man who made me feel more alive than ever, more than I’d care to admit. Mia had taunted me incessantly, but I kept blowing her off. It was like if I said it out loud, it was real. And that was something I really wasn’t ready to deal with.
He never showed.
The disappointment must have shown on my face because Jenna was on to me in a minute. “Don’t tell me he’s not here yet?”
“What? Who?”
“Nice try, sweetheart. But you know exactly who I’m talking about. Mister tall, dark and broody.”
“Nate?”
“Of course Nate. Where is he? That boy hasn’t missed the steak special since he arrived in town.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah. Oh.”
I don’t know if he was avoiding me, but part of me suspected. It was ridiculous. I’m ridiculous. I had absolutely nothing to base my assumptions on other than the gnawing feeling in the pit of my stomach.
For the next hour I shuffled around the restaurant, going through the motions but not really paying attention. He never showed. Not tonight. Nor the next night. Not even the one after that. In fact, he didn’t show for the next month. Even on the days when I wasn’t rostered on, not once did Nate come in.
I didn’t realise how much his absence affected me. Every time I walked into the club, my eyes found their way to the empty table against the window. Obviously big mouth Jenna didn’t keep her observations to herself.
“Where’s your boyfriend been hiding?” Derek asked while we sat in front of the television watching some old James Bond movie.
“What boyfriend?”
“Nate.”
“He’s…Nate’s not my boyfriend,” I clarified quickly.
Mia mumbled. She was curled against Derek’s side, a blanket laid out over their legs, Derek’s arm draped around her shoulders, holding her close. The pangs of jealousy that stabbed at me hurt like a bitch. With Matilda snoring softly in Derek’s lap, they looked like a perfect family.
I was getting worse and worse at hiding my true feelings. I wanted what they had. Desperately. But it wasn’t that easy to find. At least it wasn’t for me.
“What was that, Mia? Didn’t quite catch that.”
“You didn’t need to.”
“Bitch.”
“You know it.”
“Where is he, anyway?”
“How the hell should I know?”
“You’re the one dating him.”
“No! I’m not.”
I’d been out with the guy once, and it may or may not have been an actual date, I still wasn’t convinced. More than that though, I hadn’t seen nor heard from him since he’d been over for the bonfire, and even that was to see Derek, not me. I vaguely remember seeing him, but with the fever I was running and the concoction of medications Mia was feeding me, there was a very good chance I’d hallucinated him.
“Well, no one else is.”
“What?”
“Haven’t you heard?”
“Heard what?”
Mia was enjoying this entirely too much. There was mischief on her face that was undeniable. I felt myself squirm. I caught the strange look exchanged between Derek and Mia. It was pissing me off. I needed to know. Desperately. I just couldn’t bring myself to come out and ask. I knew if I did, it would be just another thing for Mia to hold over my head.
“Nothing. Nothing at all.”
“Mia…” There was warning in Derek’s tone. He knew Mia well enough to know she was being a bitch. Part of me couldn’t help but think Derek was relieved that I was the target of Mia’s torment, giving him a much needed day off.
“Fine…spoilsport.” Mia huffed as she moved out of Derek’s reach, careful not to wake sleeping Matilda, and for that I was eternally grateful. That child had been a tornado lately. From the moment she learnt the word ‘no’ she’d become the devil incarnate. “Everyone’s talking about your man.”
“He’s not my man!” I protested. Loudly.
“Well, if you want him to be, you better get your shit together, little sister, and stake your claim. Because if you don’t, someone else will.”
That got my attention. I wished it didn’t, but it really did.
“I don’t—”
“Stop!” Mia silenced me with a dismissive wave of her hand. “I know whatever comes out of your mouth next is going to be bullshit, so let’s just not. You want him. I’m not sure what the hell he wants, but you two need to get over yourselves and figure it out.”
“God, Mia! It’s not that simple.”
Out of the corner of my eye I watched as Derek found his feet, my daughter in his arms. “I’m just going to put Munchkin into bed.”
“I can do that.”
“Let me, Josie. You two need to have this conversation.”
Stumbling to my feet, I pressed a kiss against Matilda’s forehead, pausing to breathe in her innocent scent. This girl drove me to the very edge of madness, and some days she pushed me over, but she was my heart. “I don’t wanna.”
“I know, sweetheart, but it’s time.”
Shit!
I wanted to argue. I wanted to run screaming from the house. I wanted to throw things. I wanted to stamp my feet. Damn, I was exactly like my daughter. Now I knew where she got that stubborn streak.
My eyes darted back and forth between Derek’s retreating back and Mia. They exchanged a silent conversation, one I wasn’t privy to. Jealousy coursed through my veins. I wanted that. More than ever.
“Right.”
“Mia. I don’t want to do this.”
“I know. And I don’t care. It’s been forever Josie. It’s time to let it go.”
“I…I…can’t.”
“You have to, Jo-Jo. It’s destroying you. You don’t deserve this. I know what you think you do. And I know all of the things that Mum and Dad said to you. Josie, they were wrong. You never set out to get pregnant. But if you didn’t hook up with that scum bag, we wouldn’t have that precious little girl in there. You’re not a slut, or a whore, or any of those other things they called you. You made one mistake. One. It doesn’t mean you have to pay for it for the rest of your life. You don’t have to punish yourself forever. You don’t deserve this, Josie. No one does. It’s time for you to focus on you again. You need to do whatever it is that’s going to make you happy.”
“I don’t know how.” A tear trickled over my cheeks. It was the first time I’d allowed myself to admit it. I didn’t even have a clue where to begin.
Without a word, Mia crawled into my lap and wrapped her arms around me. If I wasn’t such an emotional freak right now, I’d be complaining about her bony ass digging into my thigh. She smoothed my hair down and held me tight. It was exactly the same thing I did to Matilda when she was upset. Just hold her tight against the steady rhythm of my heart and wait for the hurt to pass.
I don’t know how long we sat there like that. I cried until I didn’t think I had any more tears left in me and Mia’s shoulder was damp. “I’m going to help you. Dere
k and I both are. You’re going to be happy again, Josie.”
“You’ve already done so much for me, Mia. I can’t ask for more.”
“You’re not asking.”
“You’ve put up with me living with you and not once have you bitched about me being in your way. You stood there in the delivery room when I gave birth to Matilda and you didn’t bat an eye, even though I knew it was killing you inside. But I was a selfish bitch and I couldn’t do it without you. I was scared, and if you weren’t’ there, then I would have been all alone. And I couldn’t do it. Me being here has to have hurt you.”
“It has.”
Her honesty stunned me.
It shouldn’t have. I know I was the one who put the words in her mouth, but to have them confirmed, it fucking stung.
“Then why?”
I was on a roll now. As much as it hurt, I had to keep going. If I said it all now, all in one go, hopefully we’d never have to revisit this conversation again. At least I prayed we wouldn’t.
“Simple. You needed me. And I’m your sister.”
“Mia…”
“I’m going to tell you something, Josie, and you’re going to listen very fucking carefully ’cause I’m only going to say this once, okay? So shut up and listen. I’m not going to lie. It fucking hurt like hell to watch you become a mother. And honestly, it’s hurt every day since. But I wouldn’t have it any other way. You’ve let me be in Matilda’s life in a way I don’t think I could ever have imagined. When they told me I’d never be a mother, I thought I’d never get that chance. But you gave me that. You shared your most treasured possession in the world, your beautiful Matilda, with me, and no matter what else happens I can’t thank you enough for that. But now, now isn’t the time to worry about that. Right now, we need to do whatever it takes to make you happy.”
“I am happy.”
“No, sweetheart, you’re not. You’re so far from happy you’re not even on the same planet. You’re pretending to be happy and it’s not the same thing. What’s going to make you really, truly happy?”
“I don’t know anymore.”
“What used to make you smile then?”
“Loaded question.”
“One that needs an answer.” Mia shifted in my lap and her bony ass dug into me, making me moan in pain. “What was the one thing that made all your worries fade away?”
“Freedom. I used to just be free to just be.” The moment the words were out of my mouth I wished I could take them back. I was a horrible, horrible person. What sort of mother wanted freedom? “I didn’t mean…”
I jumped up, sending Mia tumbling to the floor at my feet. I tugged at my hair, feeling the sting. I hated myself for saying it.
“No one will ever know. It’s just me, Josie. It doesn’t make you a bad mum or even a bad person. It makes you human. When was the last time you felt it?”
“Felt what?”
“Felt like the Josie who used to steal my makeup and drag me out in the middle of the night to go dancing. The Josie who woke me up and forced me to boot camp because she thought it would make me feel better. The Josie who rolled my first joint. The Josie who convinced me skinny dipping in the bay was a good idea.”
“Hey! It was a great idea…”
“It wasn’t even nine degrees!”
“It was fun though.”
“Off topic here…”
“Sorry.”
“You’re not. But yes, it was. But when was the last time you felt like that?”
“Like doing something crazy?”
“Mmph.” My mind went into overdrive. When was the last time I felt that happy? That free?
Then it hit me. Like a fucking runaway train, heading downhill without brakes. Since Matilda was born I’d only felt like that a handful of times. And they all had something in common. Nate-fucking-Mitchell.
Chapter 20
Nate
Pulling my bike over onto the shoulder of the road, I sent a cloud of dust up into the sky. After dropping the kickstand, I climbed off and unbuckled my helmet. I’d been riding for hours. Stretching my arms up above my head, my joints creaked in protest. I was still about an hour from home, and as much as I was ready to be out of these clothes and standing under the scalding water, another part of me knew I was avoiding it. It was why I’d taken the long way. Even if I kept telling myself it was the winding roads that was the appeal.
It had been twelve months. Twelve short months since my world fell apart. Twelve months since my perfect world, my perfect family shattered. Now I was standing on the side of the road, completely alone, pretending I was okay, when the truth was I was falling apart.
For ten minutes I paced back and forth, trying to work the kinks out of my aching muscles. Looking out over the open fields, the cattle and sheep dotting the green paddocks, completely carefree and unaware of the scary, big wide world out there. The sun was setting, turning the sky into a picture. One I wished I could capture. The burnt oranges and soft pinks were making my head spin. It was a stunning sight.
Forcing myself to look away, I returned to my bike, yanked on my helmet, and fired it up. The growl of the engine silenced my loud thoughts, and the moment I threw my leg over the beast, everything faded away. It was for that reason alone I’d brought it. The escapism it provided. Directing the bike back out onto the asphalt, I gunned the engine and let the bike carry me away. Carry me home.
But it wasn’t my home, not really. It was a huge empty house that from the moment I stepped foot in it, fought me every step of the way. I don’t really know why I’d bought it. Looking back, I saw the purchase for what it was. A reflex. A rebound. It was me clinging to something I no longer had. Something that had been taken from me. Home. Now I was trying to build one. Trying to create something special. Somewhere I felt at peace again.
Turning over the rickety old bridge, I slowed up and passed through the town limits. A few more turns and I pulled into the driveway of my crumbling, frustrating construction zone previously known as my house. I couldn’t contain the heavy sigh. All I could see ahead of me was more backbreaking hard work. Suddenly I was just tired. Bone-weary exhausted. With too many thoughts bouncing around in my brain, I parked the bike, unstrapped my bag, and headed inside. After swiping a beer from my empty fridge, I headed straight for the bathroom.
The incessant beeping of my alarm woke me early the next morning. School holidays were awesome. Forced to take a couple of weeks off to refresh and rejuvenate every couple of months was one of my favourite perks. This time though, this time it was different. Bashing the alarm aggressively, it bounced to the floor but thankfully shut up. Today though, I just didn’t wanna. Teaching was my passion, what I was good at, what I loved, but for some reason my heart wasn’t in it this term.
Feeling like I was nursing the hangover from hell, I dragged my tired ass out of bed and into the bathroom. After a shower, shave, and brushing my teeth, I felt slightly better, but every step felt forced. Needing time, I ignored my bike, slipped my dark sunglasses over my eyes, and walked towards the school. The brisk walk in the cool morning air would hopefully drag me out of my funk before I stepped in front of a classroom full of kids. Kids who’d see through my bullshit. Kids who deserved only the very best that I could give them.
By the time I found my way into my classroom I’d made the decision that never again would I walk to work. I’d done it in hopes of clearing my head, if anything it had done the exact opposite. A bunch of kids riding their bikes spotted me and pedalled along beside me, desperately trying to engage me in their mundane conversation. Two mothers, including Elizabeth’s, had seen me and fallen in step as I neared the gate. It was like trying to pick cat hair from the suede lounge.
As the kids filed into the room, their crazy, uncensored laughter echoed off the brightly coloured walls, and my mood shifted instantly. I need to give them the very best of me. They deserved nothing less. I just didn’t know if that person still existed within me.
“Mo
rning,” I forced out as we settled into our routine.
A routine that continued every day that week. The only thing that changed day to day was every step I took felt heavier. The white plastic bottle of medication sitting on my kitchen bench taunted me every time I passed it. I didn’t want to take them. I’d do anything to avoid it. And I was.
Each day, I’d force myself to go through the motions. I’d settle the mask over my exhausted eyes and pretend to be exactly what everyone thought I should be. I was trying to hide who I really was and what I was going through from everyone, and the weight of the deceit was almost crushing me. But I couldn’t share it. I didn’t have anyone who’d understand. No one I trusted enough to confess to. Fuck me, it was hard. After faking my way through the day, and waving a happy goodbye to the class full of eager kids, I’d come home, crack a beer, and throw myself into the renovations. It’s amazing how much hard work you can get done when you’re trying to avoid something. The manual labour stole every ounce of energy I possessed, and by the time I fell into my huge, empty bed, I was half drunk and every muscle in my body ached. The only thing I could be thankful for was how the house was coming along. In four days I’d ripped up carpet in two of the spare bedrooms, patched up the dings in the walls, repainted the ceilings, and here I was after Friday night getting ready to paint the walls when a loud banging made me wipe the sweat from my forehead.
“Coming!” I called out, grabbing the discarded dirty grey shirt from the floor and tugging it over my sweaty, smelly chest.
Collecting my beer, I stomped through the house to answer the door with a scowl. I didn’t want to see anyone. I’d done my best to make that perfectly clear. I’d ignored my phone for the last week, eventually letting the battery die just to shut it up. But at nine o’clock on a Friday night, it seemed I was about to be dragged back into the land of the living.
Believing Again (Finding Your Place Book 3) Page 18