by Dale, Lindy
“Why not? It’s yours and the baby’s home. I saw you decorated his room. All your stuff is there.”
And Nicholas’ stuff. I don’t know if I can face getting into the bed without him. I don’t know if I can go into the baby’s bedroom and see the deflated balloons that are probably lying on the carpet. I can’t bear to think about him proposing all over again. Instinctively, my fingers go to my engagement ring and I twist it on my finger.
“When did that happen?” Joel gestures to my left hand.
“A couple of weeks ago.”
“Fucking shit timing.”
“You’ve got that in one.”
“Come home, Ariel. I just want you with me. In our home.”
“Technically it’s your home now,” I say. “I’m sure you and Nicholas had some sort of an agreement about what would happen in the event of death or something.”
“Yeah, I didn’t think I’d be using it. It was a joke thing we did one night over a bottle of tequila.”
“So the house belongs to you. You should feel free to do as you please without Nicky and I getting in your way. Besides if I did come home where would I sleep? Where would you sleep?”
“You can have Nicholas’ room. You’ve moved in there already.”
“And that doesn’t bother you?”
“No.”
I stare at him.
“Okay. Yes. It does, it makes me jealous as hell that you two got to play happy families but I’ll deal. Seeing that ring on your finger sends fucking daggers through my heart knowing I didn’t put it there. We just need to get things back to the way they were. It’s pointless you shacking up with Emily when you can be at home with me. We can’t get back what we had before if you’re bunking on the other side of the city.”
“Things can’t go back to how they were before, Joel. I can’t love you the same as before and I don’t want to hurt you like I did before. Everything’s changed. I’ve changed.”
Joel stares at me. I don’t think he’s considered the possibility that things can never be the same, that no matter what we do, our relationship is different now. Do we even have a relationship without Nicholas? For about the tenth time today, my eyes well with tears as I look into the face of the other man I love so much. We can’t just go home and pick up where we left off. It won’t work.
CHAPTER TWO
A couple of days after the wake, Mr. Lawson and I sit down to discuss the disposal of Nicholas’ ashes. It’s not a topic I’m keen to explore straight after his funeral but I feel I have to make his wishes known. Nicholas always worried he’d be shoved in some wall somewhere, for people to poke flowers in when they came to ‘visit’ on birthdays and Christmas. He didn’t want that.
“I want to take his ashes out on the Constance and scatter them in the water,” I tell Mr. Lawson. “Nicholas loved that boat and he loved being in The Bay. He told me that was where he wanted to be scattered if he died before me, though I guess he was talking about when we were eighty or something. He wanted to be riding the waves forever.”
Mr. Lawson considers this. “I’ve paid for a plaque next his mother’s at the cemetery. It was meant to be mine but I think she’d like it if he were near her. Nicholas and his mother were very close.”
“I know, but he wants to be in The Bay.” I won’t let this go. If this is the last thing I can do that will make Nicholas happy, I’ll fight until I get my way. I can be very stubborn like that.
Mr. Lawson crosses his leg and rubs his hands thoughtfully over his chin. “Can we sprinkle half the ashes in the water and put the other half with his mother?”
Eww. Gross. I don’t want Nicholas’ head floating around by itself for eternity with his legs in a little box somewhere. He might come back to haunt me in pieces. No, thank you.
“He wants to be scattered in The Bay.” I surprise myself with the forcefulness of my voice. I have no idea where it’s coming from. It’s as if becoming a mother and Nicholas’ death has forced me to grow up. I’ve always stood for what I believed in but now I’m even more vocal. “What about if you acknowledge Nicholas on his mother’s plaque? I have his signet ring, you could put that in the crypt with his mother. That way, you can keep your space and all be there together. Plus, it will be a place you can visit and little Nicky can come with you. I want you to be a part of his life. You are his grandfather.”
Mr. Lawson nods. “That’s a possibility.”
“And Nicholas can ride the waves for eternity. You know how much he loved to sail and surf.”
“I suppose so.”
“I know you didn’t have a great connection with The Bay because of what happened with my mother but Nicholas was happy there. It’s where we met and I really want to lay him to rest there. My feelings have to be taken into account. I was his partner.”
Mr. Lawson agrees to my final proposal and I leave, relieved that I’ve done what Nicholas asked me to do. One hurdle down, a whole track more to come.
*****
Emily drops me at the house around seven the next night, after I’ve packed the baby’s things and mine from her spare room. Alex carries them to the car for me and kisses me goodbye, saying I can come back if being with Joel gets too tricky. I don’t know what’s got into Alex, why he’s being so super nice and has suddenly changed his tune. Emily says it’s because Nicholas’ death reminded him how short life is and that he was wasting his own by being petty. She said he knew how upset our fight made her; that Alex has changed. He’s trying hard to let her be her own girl, to step away and not be so controlling. I hope I can believe her. I hope Alex has changed for the better. I didn’t like the Emily I knew six months ago. She scared me.
After the last of my things are deposited in the house, I put Nicky to bed in his crib and walk Emily to the door.
“Please call if you need a single thing,” she says, as she hugs me goodbye. “I don’t care what time of the day or night it is. I know how hard this is going to be for you guys but you don’t have to try and make it work out of some sense of misguided loyalty. Alex is more than happy to have you in the spare room until you get your shit together.”
“Thanks Em. I’m just taking it day by day. The baby will take up most of my time so I won’t have time for romance anyway.”
“Does Joel know that? I sort of got the feeling he thought you were going to pick up where you left off.”
“He knows. We had a good talk at the wake. Things can’t ever be the way they were before.”
“And if he decides to move on?”
“It’s his choice. Just as it’s my choice to do as I please. It was always that way. Being together now might not be the best thing for either of us. We’ll have to wait and see.”
I close the door behind her and stand for a minute, my back leaning against the timber. This time, just over a year ago, Emily had kicked me out of our flat. I was standing here homeless and the boys welcomed me in. I never felt that anything we did was wrong. The love and intense attraction we felt was the most natural thing in the world. We had to be together. But what will the relationship between Joel and I be now? Has Nicholas’ passing changed the way we’ll react to each other?
Joel is sitting at the kitchen bench when I get back to the living room. A stack of dirty dishes and wine glasses are piled in the sink and there’s a carton of milk sitting next to the fridge like he forgot where he had to put it away or something. I walk around the bench and sniff the milk. It’s off, so tip it down the sink with my fingers pinching my nose to ward of the stench. Ick.
Then I turn back to Joel. A trail of smoke rises above his head. There’s a distinct aroma of weed. I move to sit on a stool beside him. He has a joint cupped in his hand and I know he’s self-medicating but now isn’t the time, especially with a baby in the house. Slowly, I pull the hooch from between his fingers and stub it out in the saucer he’s put on the bench for that purpose. “I don’t want to sound like a party pooper but you can’t be doing that in the house with the baby here.”
And since when did he take up smoking weed anyway? It’s never been his thing before.
Joel’s eyes are red rimmed. I hope it’s from the hooch. I don’t like to think he’s been crying.
“Sorry,” he says. “I forgot about the bambino. Where is he?”
“He’s in bed. Hopefully, we’ll get a couple of hour’s downtime before he wakes and starts squawking for a feed. Just warning you: he’s got a set of lungs on him.”
“My little sister used to be like that. She could squeal the fur off a cat.”
“I didn’t even know you had a sister. What’s her name?”
“Ella.”
“I bet she’s pretty.” I mean, look at Joel. Even in his despair, he’s hotter than a fire full of coals.
“Gorgeous. Tended to get herself into a lot of trouble being so pretty though. She was gullible. She believed the shit people told her. Plus, she could never say no. I tried to look after her but… you know how that goes.”
“How old is she?”
Joel thinks for a moment. “Ah, she’d be twenty this birthday. I haven’t seen her in a while.”
I don’t know whether to ask any more details or not. Joel’s always been cagey about his life before me and I know he suffers from insecurity around losing me because of things that happened in his past, but he’s never told me why. I decide to save the deep and meaningful for another night. I can’t cope with any more drama. Besides, I’m bone tired.
“I think I might go to bed,” I say. “It’s been a long week and I need to keep my energy up. Nicky needs feeding every two hours.”
“I can help if you like, change his nappy or whatever. I’m having a bit of time away from the office so it’s not like I have to get up to go to work.”
It’s sweet of him to offer but I’m not sure I’m ready to share Nicholas’ baby just yet. “I’ll be okay. I need to get myself into a routine and having you there will only distract me.”
Totally true. Joel could distract me in my sleep.
His eyebrow tilts upward just a little. “I’ve still got it, then?”
“You’ve got it. You just need to keep it under wraps for the moment.”
“I hear you.”
I hop off the stool and wrap my arms around his waist. His body is warm and firm. His chest muscles flex against my cheek. He hugs me back and it feels nice, like I’m coming home. Despite my hesitance about the state of our relationship, I’m glad Joel’s here, I’m not sure I can do this alone.
And that makes me feel all types of guilty. I know I shouldn’t; that Nicholas wouldn’t mind but, I mean, he’s barely cold in the grave. Or should I say, the urn.
God, I hate this situation. I hate the confusion, the contradictions. I hate the knots of repulsion that have been in my stomach since the moment Joel reappeared. I am repulsed at the attraction I still feel for him when I should be grieving.
Joel drops a kiss on my head. “You holding up okay, Ariel?”
“Just. You?”
“As long as I don’t think about him.”
“I want to think about him. I want to remember every minute. I’m scared if I stop thinking about him, I’ll forget him.”
Joel adjusts his hold and tilts my chin so I’m looking into his eyes. He stays this way for the longest time before he bends his head and his lips press softly against mine. Even though it’s more a kiss of comfort, I quiver with guilty desire. “Can we forget for just one night?” he asks.
Then his lips are parting mine, the pressure of his mouth increasing, heating my blood. His tongue is in my mouth, mingling with mine. I am returning his kiss. I am wanting his kiss, wanting him to touch me. Joel’s hands slide to my breasts and his hips lean seductively into mine. His erection grows between us and he presses it into my belly. My insides clench with longing because his kisses are hot and urgent. Yet I know he’s only doing this because he thinks sex will ease the pain. For the moment at least.
I push him away. “What are you doing?”
And more to the point, why the hell am I letting you?
I’ve just had a baby, I think. I can’t have sex until I’ve seen my doctor and even then I don’t know if I’ll be ready. I can’t have sex because I’ve just lost Nicholas. I’m not going to replace him with Joel simply because I can. This is not sex on tap.
“I thought you wanted to.”
“No sex, Joel. No.”
“But—”
“I just had a baby.”
He steps away, his face a mixture of hurt and confusion. “Jesus, sorry. I didn’t think.”
“It’s not like I don’t want to but I can’t. Nicholas is dead. It’s wrong. And anyway, I’m not allowed to have sex until after my doctor visit next month.”
“A whole month? I haven’t gone without sex for a month since I was fifteen. What am I supposed to do?”
“Wank?”
He snorts. “Wanking is not something I’ve ever needed to do for myself.”
“You are such a manwhore.”
“That’s me.” He steps closer again. His mouth is only millimetres from mine. There’s a glint of the old Joel in his eyes. “Hey look, I’m sorry about the sex thing. It was insensitive of me, I won’t pressure you again.”
“I appreciate that.”
“It’s gonna be damn hard though.”
In more ways than one, I guess.
“You’ll live.” I twine my arms around him. I kiss his neck, his chin. I nestle into the crook of his shoulder. “Give it time, Joel. Just give it time.”
“It feels like I’ve wasted too much time already.”
*****
Later in the night, I am woken to the sound of crying. It’s not the baby. I fed him an hour ago. I pad out of the bedroom and stand in front of Joel’s closed door. His weeping is soft, as if he’s trying to avoid waking me, whether out of compassion for my feelings or embarrassment at his own fragility, I’m not sure. I listen for a while. The crying continues. I can’t let him go through this alone. I know I said we can’t be together but that doesn’t mean I can’t comfort him. We are friends, lovers. What sort of heinous bitch would I be if I heard him crying and didn’t comfort him?
Quietly, I turn the knob on the door and tiptoe through the darkness to the empty side of his bed. I’ve been here a million times before. I know which side he likes to sleep on. I lift the covers and crawl in beside him. I snuggle against the warmth of his back and press my lips to his shoulder. He’s naked beneath the covers. Joel likes to sleep naked unless it’s super cold and even then he only puts on loose pyjama bottoms and sometimes an old t-shirt.
“I’m here,” I whisper into his skin. “You’re not alone.”
Joel rolls over. Without opening his eyes, his mouth finds mine and he kisses me softly. I graze my fingers over his cheek. I caress the soft skin at the base of his ears. I feel the saltiness of the tears on his lips and cheeks. He’s so sad, so very sad.
“Talk to me,” I say. “Tell me about Nicholas.”
“We’ve been friends since we were eight. Nick’s my best mate. He’s my business partner. Until Rome, we’d never been separated for more than a day. I think some people thought our friendship was a bit gay but it worked for us. We’re yin and yang. He’s the glue and I’m the bricks. We aren’t meant to not be friends. We’re like twins that were separated at birth.”
“How did you become friends?”
I know the boys went to school together but even I could see the differences in personality and upbringing between them. Nicholas had that upper class thing about him. Joel is more self-made cool.
“We met in Grade Four. I was the gangly scholarship kid with no friends. The bigger kids used to tease me and pick on me. They used to ask me to play then run away, or invite me to go places and not show up. Nick befriended me. He saw them picking on me at the bus stop one day and he kicked the crap out of them. The fact that his family were wealthy and he was a good bloke helped a lot.”
The picture of
Nicholas the protector of the underdog is so totally him. But Joel as the kid getting sand in his face? Never. He’s my rugged surfer dude.
“You were a runty nerd?”
“I was short and skinny and my family was poor. I got into Trinity College on one of those charity scholarships that people with shitloads of cash dole out to help the less fortunate. I didn’t know that at the time but the rest of the school did, so I was a target from the day I got there until the day Nick stood up for me. Nick was the cool guy that everyone loved. He was head boy material. He was a shoe in to be Dux of the school and captain of the cricket and sailing teams when we reached high school. Nick let me hang with his crew and after a while I got known for being the class clown, the short kid with the big mouth. Even when I got tall enough to stand up for myself and popular enough with chicks for the other guys to leave me be, he was there. I don’t know how to exist without him.”
“Me either. Guess we’re about to learn.”
Our lips meet. Our tongues meld. It feels right, yet so wrong, that we are clinging to each other in our grief, that we are effectively using each other to get through this. But nobody else understands. Nobody can.
After a while, I doze in Joel’s arms. I hear him whisper that he loves me and he’s glad he’s home despite the circumstances. He’s telling me he’ll look after me, that he’ll love the baby as if it were his own. But I don’t want him to love me out of duty. I want him to love me because he has no choice, the way I always loved him.
CHAPTER THREE
The following morning is bright and sunny. After the intenseness of last night a cloud has lifted and I feel like my life is beginning a new phase, despite the fact that I’ve had broken sleep again and would probably feel better if I’d been run over by a steam roller. I sit up on the side of the bed and, taking an elastic band from the bedside table, I twist my hair into a topknot. Then I pull on a pair of leggings and a t-shirt and head to Nicky’s room to see if he’s awake. There’s been no sound from the baby monitor yet, so my guess is he’s still napping. With luck I might be able to get a coffee and shower in before he wakes.