Through the Wooden Door

by K Carr

  “Give me a minute.” Connor growled over his shoulder before turning back to me.

  I raised one eyebrow and drawled, “One minute eh? Sounds about right.”

  Lala choked on air. Connor looked at me, then at her, then back to me. He sent me a playful glare and said, “That’s bullshit and you know it.” He shook his head at Lala, who was still choking back a laugh. “I don’t know what Jen’s told you, but whatever it is, it’s not true.”

  Not one to miss an opportunity, Lala gained control of her choking to say, “She told me-”

  “Nothing.” I shut her up real quick. She would no doubt say something embarrassing.

  Connor snorted in amusement before his gaze drifted over me. When his eyes met mine, I was blushing underneath my skin tone.

  “Connor, man, let’s hit that wall.” Malcolm yelled over a few heads.

  Ignoring his friend, Connor lowered his head to ask me, “Can we talk in private for a moment?”

  I glanced over at Malcolm and the women. “Seems like your group is ready to climb and we’ve got to go anyway. See you around.”

  “Jen,” He touched my arm, kind of grabbed it but not forcefully. “Listen, about the other night,”

  “Connor,” Malcolm and the brunettes were coming over. “Hey Laura, Jenny. You girls coming next week?”

  “No,” Lala dropped my arm and hoisted her own bag over her other shoulder. “We’ve got finals.”

  “Oh yeah,” Malcolm mused. “You two are still in college.”

  Connor leaned to the side and gave Malcolm a look. “Bro, we only left college last year. Why are you acting like we’re adults? Like you’ve got a fucking mortgage or something?”

  I sniggered, Lala smirked.

  “Technically, we are all adults.” One of the brunettes said. “We’re all above 21.” She looked at Lala and I. “Unless you’re both freshmen. What college do you attend?”

  Before either Lala or I could respond, her friend leaned against Connor and said in a very bored voice, “Come on, guys. I’m ready to get some climbing in. Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go.”

  “Someone’s pumped up.” Lala muttered. She had seen my subtle reaction to the brunette’s interaction with Connor’s body. “Have fun on the wall.”

  Connor had been watching my face also. He made a very obvious move of stepping back. I didn’t stress over it. We weren’t an item and I had no idea who she was. They were probably just friends…like we were friends. Shit. I was not looking for anything serious. Why was my stomach clenching up like this?

  “See you later.” I flashed them a quick smile. Lala and I started walking away. When we were a little distance away, I hissed into her shoulder, “Rude, wasn’t she?”

  Lala shrugged. “Not really. She’s probably one of those climbing junkies and needs to get her fix. You sound jealous. Don’t tell me you’re catching feelings for Connor? Didn’t you say he was just going to be a temporary meat-stick? I know you guys have been on quite a lot of dates since my party but you said it wasn’t anything serious. I thought you were just fooling around, Jen.”

  “Shut up,” I mumbled and glanced around to make sure the people were walking by hadn’t heard her. “Oh shit.” I squeaked when I saw Connor striding after us.

  It would’ve been downright ill-mannered to continue walking after hearing him yell my name. I waved Lala forward and spun around to face him.

  “What’s up?” Acting normal was the best bet. Anything else would be too messy.

  “You tell me.” he said with a frown. “What just happened back there?”

  I gave him a blank look and his eyebrows shot up.

  “Listen,” I fiddled with the strap of my knapsack. “I really need to head out.”

  He scrutinized me for a while then said, “Remember when I told you I didn’t have a type? The day you asked me to be your valentine?”

  I narrowed my eyes. “I never asked you to be my valentine. I invited you to a party-”

  “I have a type.” he interrupted me.

  “Oh.” I looked back towards the people in the café. Did he mean that brunette? Was this his way of telling me the other night was fun but it didn’t mean anything? I was cool with that. It was just sex. Ok, my pride was getting ready to take the hit. I could feel my insides curdling. Damn. I would really need to find a new climbing centre now. “Cool. I should get going then. Look, don’t worry about it. The other night was,” I shrugged then tried to smile. I could feel it starting. My pride was already sinking. Shiiit. I thought I had rocked his world the other night! Maybe my skills had slipped since breaking up with my ex. “Look, I get it, Connor. You don’t have to explain anything. We’re cool.”

  “Do you always jump to conclusions?” he asked as he folded his arms. He smirked at me. “As I was saying, I have a type. It’s quite specific.” Connor was grinning now and he stepped closer to me. “She’s got to be about 5’8. Really smart. A bit arrogant but that’s ok because she’s smoking hot. Crazy hair,” He peered at my untidy high puff. “When it’s down.”

  I had to bite my lower lip to hide my grin.

  Connor continued. “I’m not knocking anyone else, this is just my preference but she’s got to be black.” He shrugged. “I’ve recently found out I’m partial to a spot of chocolate.” Then he bit his lip. “I can say that, right? It’s not racist, is it?”

  I shrugged.

  “Ok, where was I?” He took another step closer so I had to lean back my head to look at him. “She’s got to be driven and loves her Mom more than anything. Ah, ideally she’ll come around to my way of thinking where it concerns faith.”

  I frowned. Yeah. Finding out he followed organized religion had put a slight damper on my crush of him.

  “Oh and this is a must.” He lowered his face to mine. “Her name has to be Jennifer.”

  Before we could kiss, Lala crooned out loudly, “Aww, you guys are so sweet. If you get married, I’m naming your firstborn.”

  Connor and I both twisted our heads in her direction.

  Lala flung her hands up in the air. “What? I told Jen to ask you out. Forced her really. I call dibs on naming your firstborn. Deal with it.”

  “Jen,” Connor said softly. I turned back to face him and was immediately lost in his eyes. “I like you. A lot. A whole lot.”

  We had been young and so in love. Still in love. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.

  “Mommy, do you want half my sandwich?” Megan offered up the remaining half of the ham and cheese sandwich on her plate. “I don’t want anymore.”

  “No thanks, sweetie.” I murmured and took a gulp of my refilled coffee cup. My mom popped the last piece of her pie into her mouth while watching Connor and me. She was wearing that expression on her face, the one I knew meant she was going to stick her nose in our business and I would end up feeling like the wronged party while going along with whatever plan she had made. Maybe I could circumvent her machinations. Focusing on Megan, I said, “Why don’t you recite your lines for Daddy?” I spared Connor a glance. “I’m sure he’d love to have a preview of your performance.”

  Megan checked her with Dad, who was beaming and nodding enthusiastically. I snuck a peek at my Mom, who was now squinting at me from one eye. She was on to me, but I had bought myself some time. I wondered what in the hell she was planning. Deciding to act oblivious to her machinations, I gave Megan my complete attention and listened to her confident recital of lines.

  “That was so good,” Connor held his arms open, Megan hopped off her chair straight into his waiting arms. “You’re getting so big,” he muttered as he hugged her tightly. “Oh I’ve missed my Meggie.”

  She laughed, squirming in his hold before flinging her arms around his neck and squishing her face against his. “I miss you too, Daddy.”

  A normal person would’ve been reduced to a ball of mush over their father/daughter interaction. Normality was something I now believed to be outside my reach. I rubbed my temple, I was so t
ired…always so tired of late.

  “We should get going,” I called time on this weird family get together.

  Both Megan and Connor murmured their dissent to that suggestion, but I arched an eyebrow at them both, set my mouth in a firm line, and exhaled long and hard.

  My mom tweaked Megan’s cheek as she promised, “You’ll see your Dad this week,” Mom looked across in my direction. Her mouth was twisted into her ‘do-not-mess-with-me’ grimace. “Isn’t that right, Jennifer?”

  I nodded, not a big nod though, it was small enough I could deny ever agreeing to my mom’s words if pressed at a future date…i.e anytime this week.

  “I’ll call you, yeah?” Connor started to stand up with Megan clinging to his arm. “To arrange a time?” He brushed his hand over Megan’s curls. “Or I can pick her up from school this week.”

  “What about work?” I asked, not snidely, just curious. I hadn’t been to the office in months, not since – I hadn’t been to the office.

  Connor shrugged, now standing at his full height. “We have a few jobs on this week but the guys can handle it.” He bent his head so he could see Megan’s upturned face. “Would you like me to come pick you up from school this week?”

  “Umm,” I was already planning on blocking Connor’s offer even as Megan vigorously nodded her acceptance. “She has her after school clubs,” The sound of my mom delicately coughing made my words trail off. There was nothing wrong with her damned throat. I sent her a mini-glare but made sure no one could see it. At least I thought no one had until I caught Connor’s tiny smile. Clearing my throat now, I acquiesced. “Fine, I’ll text you which days you can pick her up from school.”

  “I’ll call you,” Connor’s earnest declaration did nothing except make me feel worse. Why did he have to be this insistent? He knew I rarely answered his calls anymore. Then he reached down to pick Megan up and hug her tightly. “I love you to the moon and back.”

  “I love you too, Daddy.” she returned his pledge of love. “You promise to come to my assembly?”

  “Promise,” Connor swayed her side to side, earning himself a delighted giggle from Megan. “Be good for Mommy and Grandma, ok?”

  Megan nodded and I caught my mom’s rueful smile as she observed their goodbye hug. Honestly? I knew my mama was disappointed with the way I was currently handling my separation from Connor and its knock-on effects on his relationship with Megan. But, and this is where it counted the most, she never took away the space I needed to navigate this fucked up part of my life. Her support was unwavering…I guess I could show some goodwill towards my estranged husband, it might ease the worried glint in my mom’s eyes.

  “I’ll check Megan’s schedule and call you later this evening,” I said then tried to stamp out my feelings of guilt when an expression of gratitude sprung to life on Connor’s face.

  “Great,” He was grinning, Megan was grinning, Mom was grinning. “That’s great.” He planted a kiss on Megan’s cheek. “Want to go with me to pay the bill?”

  Her happy nod was expected. Mom and I watched Connor stride off with Megan in his arms.

  “Today is tough for him,” Mom murmured as she slung her bag over her shoulder and took a couple of steps to put her by my side.

  “I know, Mom.”

  Her heavy sigh could’ve been from hearing the resentment peeking out my words. Or maybe she was just…fuck. I reached over to link my arm with hers and slightly bent my knees so I could comfortably lean my head on her shoulder. Watching Connor put Megan down and pull out his wallet while she looked up at him with pure devotion on her face made me feel guiltier than before.

  “How are you doing, Mom?” I had lost a child, but she had lost a grandchild. A different sort of pain, but pain nonetheless. Was there an extra twist of despair for her? Knowing that I had buried my son…I was her only child. Did it pain her to watch me go through this devastating loss? Was it some sort of double-barrelled dose of suffering my mom was experiencing? Not losing her own child, but watching said child lose theirs? “Are you ok today? We’ve not really had a chance to talk.”

  “Do you want me to make my special lasagne for dinner?” She danced around my concern with her query.

  I nodded against her shoulder before straightening up with a tiny smile on my face. My mom’s lasagne was my most favourite dish in the world bar none. It was part of her love language to me. An offer to make her lasagne was basically her saying: you mean everything to me, and this is a culinary embrace which will fill your tummy with love the way I’ve poured all my love into you since before your birth. That was my interpretation and I would stand by it until the day I died. My barely there smile disappeared. Until the day I died. The natural order of things had been disrupted. I was here yet Cory was not. This shouldn’t be possible! A parent shouldn’t ever have to bury their child. Her soft hand, smelling of cherries, touched my chin. I twisted my head to give her my attention.

  “Don’t change your mind,” she intoned with a serious burn to her brown eyes. I opened my mouth, ready to feign ignorance and she shushed me with a quick, “Uh uh, I know you and I know you’re already thinking of ways to back out-”

  “Mom,” I jerked my chin away, scowling…half-heartedly because she was scrutinizing my face with a knowing tilt of head and pursed mouth. Damn. She had read me like a book. How the hell could she still do that? Just reach into my mind and pluck out any secret thought. “I said I would call him later, didn’t I?”

  Mom arched her eyebrows and snorted under her breath. “You did.”

  “Right then,” I huffed, then let out a begrudging chuckle before turning around so I could hug her. “I love you, Mom.”

  “I know,” she murmured, hugging me back tightly. “And you’ve been so brave today. Your Dad would’ve been proud.”

  Her softly spoken words made my chest tight. When we broke the hug both our eyes glistened and I was fighting the good fight against an ugly outburst of tears. Mom tenderly pinched my cheeks before shuffling away. She needed a moment, I think we both did. Grief was strange, multi-faceted and ever-enduring. I should’ve been prepared, at least partially. Daddy’s unexpected death in my early teens should’ve given me an extra layer of fortitude, an extra rod of steel through my spine and soul. The loss of my father back then had not prepared me for the loss of my son now. Both deaths had irrevocably changed me. I looked over to the counter, Connor and our daughter were walking back to where I stood. The suffocating grip of fear which had inhabited my world for the past year, closed around my throat when I watched Megan smiling up at Connor while he chatted to her. At the back of my mind that fucking whisper of fear – not a whisper anymore, a shout, a scream; warned that she could be next. Death was the great leveller, the equalizer, the end; and it came to us all. Since Cory’s death I couldn’t squelch my fear of something happening to Megan.

  And I reminded myself of my pledge while taking a few deep breaths. If anything happened to her, if whatever twist of fate somehow stole my remaining child from me, then I would simply end my journey here too and join them in whatever laid beyond this existence. The fear trickled away with that soothing thought. If my mom could pluck this one out of my mind she would surely have me committed, or maybe she would understand. Was it macabre? Definitely, but it was also truly comforting to me, and the only thing which pried away those cold tendrils of fear around my throat whenever I thought of Megan dying unexpected…like Cory had.

  “Do you want me to drive?” Mom offered. She had returned to my side, once again in complete control of her emotions. “I don’t mind.” She saw Connor’s and Megan’s approach and plastered a bright smile on her face for Megan.

  “It’s fine,” I waved her offer away, mirroring her action myself as Megan tugged on Connor’s hand to bring him to our sides faster.

  “Mom,” She was excited. “Mommy, Daddy said he’s having a party for his birthday and I can help plan it!”

  “Is that so?” I murmured. Megan loved a party, any kind
of party and she was ready to go.

  Connor tried to hide his wince. It seemed like this party hadn’t been his idea. He confirmed my suspicions when he swung Megan’s hand between them and sighed in defeat. “Sweetie, you came up with the idea to have a party. Daddy’s too old to be bothered about parties.” He saw her face fall. “But it does sound like it’ll be fun.”

  “It will,” Megan grinned, nodding in agreement. “It’s your birthday and you should have a party.” Then she glanced over at me and mom, pleading earnestly, “Mom, can we have a birthday party for Daddy? Please?”

  Connor’s demeanour was an apologetic one as he said, “I’ll sort something out, a small get together. Don’t worry, you won’t have to do anything,” Here a hopeful grin flashed across his face as he stared at me. “Just show up.”

  “When is your birthday again, Daddy?” Megan tugged her hand free from his. “Is it next week? I’ll make you a cake, no, we’ll buy you a big cake.”

  Connor chuckled. “It’s about a month away, Meggie, during your summer holidays. We’ve got time, sweetie.”

  I couldn’t help but notice how that flinching look in his lovely blue eyes had abated. The dark circles were still there, but his actual eyes looked slightly less stressed…slightly less haunted. From lowered lashes, I observed the way those blue eyes followed our daughter’s movements. I noted the ready smile he wore whenever Megan looked up at him. I mentally logged the way his hands eagerly sought to connect with her by way of a nonchalant brush of hair, or squeezing of nose. I understood the parental obsession and knew it would be harder for him. I had Megan, he didn’t. The weeks after Cory’s death I used to find myself in Megan’s room at weird hours in the night while she slept. I would lie on the floor besides her bed with one hand resting on her shoulder. I needed to make sure she was still here, still real, still alive. And Connor used to wake up and come looking for me. He would urge me back to our bed, wrap his arms around me and whisper words of comfort into my ear until I fell into a restless sleep. It hadn’t been long for those whispers of comfort to not be comforting. It had taken no time at all before my grief had morphed into hatred.