by Megan Keith
“Scar and Ben are here cheering me up.” I feel a little better knowing that’s who’s at her house, but still, I wish it was me. “They’re forcing me to eat.”
“That’s good. How did it go with the lawyer?” When I last spoke to her she was on her way to her appointment and she was nervous.
“It was weird. But it’s done, I guess.”
“Is there anything I can do?”
“Not that I can think of. But thank you. And thank you again for last night.”
That’s the fourth time she’s thanked me for that and I’m kind of getting sick of hearing it. It’s like she doesn’t expect me to be there for her - I’m her boyfriend, I’m meant to be. It doesn’t make sense to me. Of course, I would be there, regardless of the change in relationship status. It makes me wonder if she’s ever really had someone close to lean on, boyfriend or not. It’s obvious she and her mother don’t have the best relationship and it makes me sad when my mum and dad have always been there for me, my sister too. I’m glad she has Scar and Ben but she needs to realise that she has me now as well.
I bite my tongue, ignoring her comment and instead say, “Let me know if I can help you with anything, B. Call me no matter the hour.”
“Okay, thank you.”
“Stop thanking me,” I growl in frustration, before softening my voice. “Just know I’m here for you. Okay?”
“Yes, okay.”
“I’ll let you get back to eating your dinner then. I’ll speak to you soon.”
“Bye.”
I sigh when I hang up the phone. I hate this apartment and I hate being away from her. I want to be near her, to hear her voice, her laugh, see her smile. All the time that’s what I want and it’s weird that I feel like this when I haven’t known her that long. I like having her by my side. I’m really looking forward to this weekend and having her all to myself, well and my family and friends. I’m selfishly hoping that she’s not so upset about her Nan that she pulls out.
***
I can’t help but laugh at myself as I walk to the café. It’s mid-morning and Bianca’s not answering her phone, so now I’m really acting like the stalker she once accused me of being by turning up at her work. I’m not surprised when I enter to find she’s not there, I didn’t expect her to be. But knowing Scar would be, I came with the hope she could tell me how B’s doing.
“Hey Seth!” she greets me.
“Scar, how are you? How’s Bianca?”
“I’m good. And B’s okay, I think.” She scrunches her brow while looking at her watch. “Though I haven’t heard from her yet and she promised to call me when she left her Nan’s.”
“Her Nan’s? She was doing that today?”
“Yeah. Didn’t she tell you?”
“No. She didn’t. And she’s not answering her phone.” Why wouldn’t she tell me that? “So she’s speaking to her mum then?”
“Oh no. She wanted to go by herself.”
“Fuck.” I run my hands through my hair in frustration. “She shouldn’t have to deal with this all on her own.”
“I offered to go, but she wouldn’t have it. What can I say?” She shrugs. “She’s stubborn.”
“You got that right. Do you know her Nan’s address?”
“No. Sorry, I don’t.” She eyes me thoughtfully for a moment. “Did you want a coffee or something?”
“Nah, I gotta go.”
“Okay. If I hear from her, Seth, I’ll tell her to call you.”
“Thanks!” I call as I leave, though I have no intention of waiting by the phone.
Bianca
It smells kind of musty. I guess the windows and doors haven’t been opened in a while. Her house is neat and nothing about it is familiar to me. I don’t ever remember coming here. Nan really was a stranger to me and so was this house. I slow when I reach a wall of photos in the lounge room. There’s an old sepia coloured image of a bride and groom I can only assume are my Nan and my Pop; who died before I was born. Though I don’t recognise the woman in the photo at all. It saddens me, as I should know this stuff. All of the things here should be familiar. I should have been in this house more times than I could count. As it is, I don’t even remember one visit. Then I spot a photo of her that I do recognise. She’s seated on the very armchair I’m standing beside now and she has a girl of about five years old on her lap. That girl is me. I close my eyes, trying so hard to remember the photograph being taken but nothing comes. It was too long ago and I guess the moment wasn’t memorable enough.
My eyes glide over photo after photo of a little boy that I know is my father. Even though I have never seen these pictures before, I recognise him. I can see myself in him, especially the ones where he is a young boy with almost white hair. In those, I resemble him the most. You could almost swap them for images from my mother’s wall of me at the same ages. It’s uncanny. It hurts my insides to think about. To imagine him growing up in this house. Did he even grow up here? I have no idea. I know nothing of him or his mother or his life. I guess I’ll never know. I can’t help the anger that bursts through me, making my nose sting and eyes prickle with fresh tears. I hate this! I hate that I can imagine how different life could have been - a life where I could have had a loving father and grandmother.
My eyes stall on a photo from my parent’s wedding day. It’s the same one my mum has, even has the same frame. It’s so weird to see it here, in this foreign place, when I’ve lived with the exact same item my whole life in my mother’s house. It goes to show, no matter what the fallout between my mum and my nan was, Nan still cared - about me, about my dad and maybe even about Mum.
I pull every photo from the wall and stick them in a cardboard box. Ben was kind enough to lend me his ute. He dropped it off early this morning with a stack of empty boxes and got a lift from my house to his work. He really is the sweetest.
I find a cupboard in the hall that’s filled with photo albums and after flicking through one, where I found images of my father as a teenager, I decide to box the whole lot without looking through them. Otherwise I’d be stuck sitting on the carpeted hallway floor for days.
When in the kitchen I get a wave of nostalgia. I suddenly remember Nan bringing a casserole to the house one time. It was curried sausages and vegies, her specialty I think. I don’t know why I remember but I do and then I spend ten minutes sifting through all the cupboards until I find that dish. It’s suddenly important that I have it. When I’m just about to give up I find it at the back of a high shelf above the oven. I’m instantly relieved. Over a casserole dish! I guess mourning does strange things to you.
I purposely leave her bedroom until last. I thought it was because it would be the hardest. Isn’t someone’s bedroom where they would most leave their personality? I expected grief to overwhelm me there, or something, but it doesn’t. I tentatively sit on the edge of her bed and take the room in, trying to imagine what it was like for her, living in this house, sleeping in this room. I can’t. Nothing feels right about this. Nothing is familiar, not the floral bedspread on the old Victorian cream metal bed, not the wooden drawers or the clothes in the cupboard, or the faint scent coming from a bowl of pot pourri on the corner table. Nothing. It makes me feel numb and I suddenly, urgently, want this over with. I’ve been here for a couple of hours already, searching through every cupboard and drawer looking for something that might be of significance, and I don’t want to be here anymore. I find bottles of her perfume and as weird as it feels to do, I spray myself with one and then put the rest in a box. I find a jewellery case but don’t have the heart to open it, instead I tuck it in the box, too. I’ll deal with all of these things another day. For now, I’m taking them home and the lawyer can sell the place. I’m done.
As I drive Ben’s ute back to my house I reflect on the past week. It’s been the weirdest. From all the new feelings I have for Seth, to dinner with Mum and Jack, to the letter from the lawyer and finding out Nan died, to having time off work. I miss normalcy. For just a litt
le bit of time I want routine and something familiar. I want an escape. So I quickly unload the boxes, dumping them in the spare room before locking Ben’s car and my house, and starting the journey by foot to the local cinemas – it is early Wednesday afternoon after all.
I decide on what looks to be the happiest movie currently playing and I’m standing in the short line waiting to purchase my ticket when a familiar masculine voice sounds from beside me.
“What are we seeing?”
I turn to see a handsome looking man dressed in a pale blue business shirt and navy suit pants. His tie is gone and his sleeves are rolled up. He looks positively delicious and his chocolate brown eyes are full of compassion and a little bit of mischief.
“What are you doing here, Seth?”
“Chucking a sickie. Felt like seeing a movie.” He shrugs, turning his attention to the lit up board with all the session times on it. “So which one are we seeing?” I stare at him in awe. I’m completely mute. He shoves his hands in his pants pockets and looks down on me with an expectant smirk.
“Oh, um, that one,” I say, pointing to the cardboard cut-out on the other side of the rope from where we’re standing.
“Cool. You’re never too old for a Disney movie.”
“My sentiments exactly.” My voice cracks as I speak and my eyes begin to water for the hundredth time this week. “I can’t believe you’re here,” I whisper.
“Better believe it,” he says softly, his arm coming around my shoulder to tuck me to his side. He rubs his hand up and down my arm in gentle, comforting strokes, and a couple of silent tears trickle from me to soak into his shirt. He doesn’t say anything, just continues his ministrations as we step to the cashier. I straighten so he can purchase our tickets. I don’t even bother to argue about him paying, which would be my natural instinct. Instead, I’m happy for him to take care of me.
I open my mouth to say thank you when we step into the snacks line but what comes out instead is, “I missed you.” I don’t even have the inclination to hide my feelings. It feels so good to say it.
“You don’t need to. I’m right here.” He presses a kiss to my forehead. “Now what do you want to eat?”
I wipe the last of my tears away. We pick our treats and enter the cinema just as the advertisements begin. Seth gives my hand a squeeze.
“Are you okay?” he asks quietly after we take our seats.
I smile at him, genuinely, and answer, “I am now.”
“Good.” His eyes search mine for a moment in the darkened theatre and he must like what he sees because he gives my hand another small squeeze before leaning forward to place a soft kiss against my lips.
We hold hands for the first few minutes of the movie before letting go to tuck into our popcorn, drinks and chocolates, though our hands continue to find each other in the dark as the movie progresses. Our eyes do, too. With intermittent soft smiles, small chuckles at the movie, hand squeezes and the occasional stolen kisses, we watch the movie - lost to the fun of the storyline and the sweetness of our new relationship.
Seth is the perfect escape.
***
“I enjoyed that.” Seth hugs me close as we leave the theatre. “Did you?”
“Yeah, it was fun. Thank you so much for being here. It means a lot.”
We both are squinting when we reach the brightness of the summery day.
“My car is in the car park down the road. Do you want a lift home?” he asks.
“You know what? I feel like walking.”
“Oh, okay.” Seth looks disappointed and that’s the last thing I want. “I’d offer to walk with you but I only paid for three hours parking, so I better…” He motions over his shoulder in the direction of his car. “Um, let me know if you want anything. Call me or whatever.” He presses a quick kiss to my cheek. “Oh wait, here, before I go.” I watch him fishing through his wallet. “For your book.” He produces a movie ticket stub. “I hope to get my name in there more often.” He gives me a wide smile and when I don’t say anything, only taking the stub from him, he starts to walk away. I’m in shock. There’s something so damn sweet about his gesture that I struggle to form a sound from my gaping mouth, let alone any other bodily function like actually moving.
“Seth?” I call, when he’s almost out of sight. He doesn’t hear me and I suddenly find the urge to run after him. I jog a few quick steps and call his name again.
“Yeah?” he says and I crash into him when he abruptly turns to face me. My arms wrap around his neck and his tighten around my waist. He chuckles with the force of my hug and he lifts me slightly off the ground in an attempt to steady himself. “What’s that for?”
“You. Just, for being you.” I lean back in his arms and brush some loose strands of hair from his eyes. “Will you please stay with me tonight?”
Seth
When I arrive at Bianca’s, arms laden with Chinese takeaway for dinner, she’s not the bright and smiley girl I left at the cinema complex this afternoon. Her eyes are again all puffy and red. We eat in relative silence, or rather I eat and she picks at her dinner, her mind a million miles away. With all she’s had to deal with I’m not surprised. Especially finding out her Nan has been paying money against her rent all this time, that’s definitely something that would mess with your head.
After dinner Bianca disappears into the spare room, ignoring a phone call from her mother and cancelling on Scar to go to the hospital to visit her friends’ baby. It’s obvious she wants to be left alone. She’s looking through old photo albums and as much as it pains me to do it, I leave her to it and work on my laptop in the kitchen instead.
As tomorrow is Thursday and I’m leaving for Melbourne early Friday morning I’ve decided to take tomorrow off and work from her house for the day. I want to be here for her. I still haven’t broached the subject of her coming with me to the wedding. I’m hoping she’ll still come but I don’t feel right asking her at the moment.
I’m engrossed in my work when Bianca comes to me and sits on my lap. It’s unexpected but definitely wanted. I hold her tight to me and again ask if she’s okay. She nods.
“I found this photo.” She smiles through watery eyes and hands me the picture.
It’s her, I can tell immediately, beautiful blue eyes smile up at me from the image, her light blonde hair whipping over her face. “You weren’t kidding about your hair being so much lighter when you were younger. You were so cute when you were little.”
“Were? I still am, thank you very much.” Her sudden humour is such a welcome relief.
“No. Now you’re absolutely gorgeous, stunningly beautiful, a lot sexy and just a little bit cute.” I give her mouth a quick, hard kiss. My eyes drift back to the photograph and the man with his arm wrapped around her. He looks to be in his thirties, he has dark blond hair and light blue eyes. “Is that your dad?” She nods. “And I take it the woman bedside him is your Nan?” She nods again and a single tear trickles down her cheek. I wipe it away with my thumb.
“It’s the only photo I’ve found of the three of us together. It must have been taken not long before he died, I think, because I look to be about four years old. I’m going to get it framed, maybe even enlarged.”
“You should. It’s a beautiful shot.” The three of them are standing in front of some kind of garden with what looks to be a lake in the background. It seems like afternoon, the sun dipping low enough that they’re legs are slightly encased by shadow.
“Yeah.” I can’t keep my eyes off her as she stares at the photo with a small, sad smile on her face. “Yeah, it’s a good picture.” She yawns. “Anyway, I’m heading to bed. I’m tired.”
“I’ll just finish this up and be right with you.”
“Okay.”
She hops off my lap, leaving the picture behind on the table. I finish the email I’m working on to one of the team members at work but my eyes keep being drawn to the photo beside my laptop. The location looks familiar and it gets me thinking. Instead of shu
tting down the computer I open up Google.
Bianca
I’m so exhausted that I cannot even find the energy to open my eyes when I feel Seth crawl into bed. I have no idea of the time and when he snuggles in behind me I quickly fall back into a restful sleep with a small smile on my face.
When I stir the next morning it’s because Seth is sitting on the edge of the bed with his back to me.
“Morning,” I mumble drowsily.
“Hey.” He looks over his shoulder. “I didn’t mean to wake you. I have some work to do but you should go back to sleep.” He stands up and he pulls on a pair of track pants. “I’ll be in the kitchen.”
I’m so tired I don’t have it in me to reply. I just nod, then slide across the bed into his recently vacated spot. It’s warm and Seth scented, I inhale then close my eyes with a smile. There’s something so nice about snuggling in his spot as he gets ready to go to work. I sleepily consider what it would be like to have that on a daily basis before I doze off.
***
It’s almost eleven when I enter the kitchen to a handsome looking man working away on his laptop. He’s shirtless, still dressed in only the track pants he first pulled on what must have been hours ago. He looks so sexy with a pair of glasses on, his face all serious as he taps away on the keyboard. His head lifts and he gives me a soft smile.
“Morning sleepyhead.”
“Morning.”
“You want something to eat?” he asks, tossing his glasses onto the table and standing to stretch. I almost answer with a ‘yes, you’ as I take in his delicious torso and the V lines that dip into his pants, but I’m too busy gawking to reply. “Toast, cereal?” he prompts.
“Uh-huh.” He grins and I realise that wasn’t really an answer. “Yes. But I can get it, you go back to work, Nerd Boy.” I step closer and slide my hand from his waist to his chest, my palm heating with the feel of his skin. I reach up and give him a peck on the lips before making a start on preparing myself some brekkie. Seth sits back down but his eyes don’t stray from me.