by K Carr
“What?” I needed a second to just shake my head at her. Same old Lala. “Laura Chong, you need to relax. Remember I told you to do your pelvic floor exercises, just like your midwife did. Are you actually doing the exercises?”
“Hey,” She inhaled sharply, holding the side of her stomach. “That was a hard kick.”
“Are you ok?” I asked, concerned over her grimace of pain.
Lala waved my worry away. “Are you keeping your last name?”
The question came from left-field and had me spluttering as we turned into the kitchen. I immediately slid my bag off my shoulder and placed it on top the nearest counter surface. “What? Weren’t we talking about vaginal exercises?”
“Vaginal what?” Derek piped up from behind us.
I slipped my arm free from Lala’s and walked over to the cupboards. I opened the one storing my coffee and teas. Oh good. Connor had obviously restocked everything. Had he been drinking all my shit? The ground coffee jar was full to the brim. “Have you had any camomile tea recently, Lala? Too much isn’t good for you right now. There’s some peppermint tea here. I’ll do us some peppermint tea.”
Derek pulled a stool out then grimaced at it and his wife. “Will that be comfortable, honey?”
Lala walked over to put the kettle on then came over to where I stood and peered into the cupboard. “I’m not feeling peppermint though.”
“Did you already have camomile today?” I asked again. “I know you’ve given up the coffee tempor-”
Derek’s loud snort cut my words off. Lala squinted dangerously in his direction.
“You’re still drinking coffee?” I chastised. “Lala, you need to ditch the coffee. It’s only for a short while. I got used to it when,” I took a deep breath. “You get used to it.” I had gone cold turkey with the coffee when I was pregnant. This was so fucking awkward. Talking about the things I used to do, remembering…damn it.
Lala huffed at the both of us. “Will you both stop telling me what I can or cannot do? I’m pregnant, not stupid.” She went to get two cups out. “And I only have coffee once every other day.”
Derek snorted. “That I know about.” He shook his head at her. “You’ve gotten better at hiding the evidence.”
They semi-glared at each other and I stood smack dab in the middle of their look. My shoulders shook a little as I swallowed the laugh. “I’m glad you two are here.” I reached into the cupboard to pull out two boxes of tea. “And you should book that spa date as soon as, sounds like you both need some relaxation time. I can do ginger or dandelion.”
“Ginger.”
Dandelion.”
The Chongs spoke simultaneously. I went with Lala’s decision. Her choice was the only one which mattered. “Dandelion it is.”
“I don’t want any then,” Derek grumbled.
“I didn’t take a cup down for you in the first place,” she retorted as I went about brewing the tea for us. “You never answered me,” Lala pressed on.
“Huh?”
“The name change,” she clarified. “You’re still hell-bent on the divorce, right?”
Derek cleared his throat and began moving aimlessly around the kitchen. Picking up stuff then putting them right back. Opening the fridge to get the milk out, which was helpful; generally trying to give the impression he wasn’t listening to me and Lala.
“Yes,” I murmured.
“Are you going back to your maiden name then?” she asked. “Because it’s a tedious process.”
“No more than the actual divorce,” I muttered. I shut up right after that as my mom and Betty strode into the kitchen, chatting to themselves with low chuckles and heading straight to the cupboards.
“Are you making tea, Jennifer?” My mom asked the obvious. She could see the boxes of tea on the counter. Shaking a finger of warning at Derek, she advised, “Neither one of those teas taste good with milk in it. You’ll make Laura sick if you add milk.”
Lala and I hid our smirks as Derek quickly put the milk back in the fridge. He wore a guilty expression, as if embarrassed at being caught in the fridge. My smirk widened into a grin. My brain kept pointing out how terrible this get-together would’ve been without them here. The tea finished brewing. Mom and Betty were chatting in low voices as they grabbed some plates and wandered over to the separate table in the kitchen which was laden with party foods. When I caught them both looking over in my general direction as I sniffed the tea, my suspicions were immediately raised. What were they planning now?
“You two ok over there?” I asked loudly.
Mom spun around, giving me her full attention. “We’re fine, just catching up,”
With a narrowed gaze that jumped between them, I grunted and turned back to the tea.
“You know what, I’ll take a cup also,” Derek said.
Before I could ask him to get himself a cup out the cupboard, the unmistakeable noise of rowdy kids broke the relative calmness in the kitchen. Megan ran right up to the fridge freezer and yanked the freezer compartment open. Connor walked in, or should I say, was pushed along with the other children surrounding him.
He caught my eyes, smiling as he notified me of what was about to happen. “It seems I have to go get ice-cream,”
“Yes, Daddy,” Megan chirped as she shut the freezer compartment. “We only have strawberry ice-cream in here. We need all the flavours.”
“Not all the flavours,” Mom mused and shared a chuckle with Betty. Their plates were filled with food and they started heading for the doorway. Connor herded the children out of their way.
Megan skipped over to me, twisted her face up at the pot of tea, then pulled at my scarf from where it hung loosely around my neck. It was July, no need for scarf-wear, but the scarf was gossamer thin and very flattering with my outfit. She giggled and twirled around, effectively stealing my scarf away. She was obviously having a great time, I let her be and bit back my automatic warning to be careful in the kitchen.
“I won’t be long,” Connor raised his voice to be heard over the kids. “Will you be ok handling things until I get back?”
He had probably asked the question unconsciously and it was understandable, him speaking to me as if I was hosting the party right alongside him. But I wasn’t ok with that, I didn’t want to be in charge, and I certainly didn’t want to keep catching glimpses of photos…or drawings like the one pinned up on the fridge door. I remembered when Cory had done that one.
“I’ll go,” I offered, seeing an opportunity and seizing it.
“Go blow your nose, Freddie,” Connor instructed his cousin Emmanuel’s son before edging him aside and striding towards me. “You don’t have to go.”
“It’s your birthday,” I made a playful grab for my scarf which Megan was wafting about. She yelled and darted off towards her cousins with the scarf fluttering madly behind her. Unable to meet his eyes, I spun around and moved off to get another cup for Derek down from the cupboards. “I’ll go, it’s no problem, just give me a list of what flavours to buy and I’ll get them.”
“Do you want me to come with you?” Lala asked.
“Don’t be silly,” I scoffed, turning towards them with the cups carefully balanced in my hands. “I just made you tea.” A forced grin made an appearance on my lips and I called out a stern, “Wipe your nose, Freddie.” When I spotted the children running out the kitchen.
“Are you sure?” Connor asked. “Because it’s no problem for me-”
I quickly cut him off. “Honestly, it’s fine. I don’t mind.” Did I catch a glimpse of the shared look between my best friend and her husband? Yes, and I ignored it too.
“Jenny,” Lala was giving me an awkward look. “I already got the cups out.”
“Oh, yeah, you did.” I had literally watched her taking the cups out before. Putting the delicate china cups down on the centre island, I evaded all their gazes. “Ok, ice cream for the kids. Is there anything else?” I moved off, quickly walking across the kitchen to go grab my bag.
<
br /> “Here,” Connor stepped into my line of sight and I reluctantly raised my eyes to his. He had his wallet in hand and was pulling out some cash. “This should be enough to cover it. I’ll text you the list of flavours now.”
“I’ve got cash,” I muttered and slung my bag over my shoulder.
“Jen,” Connor held the cash out, mouth set in a mutinous line.
“It’s fine, Connor,” I kept my tone neutral and took a small step towards the door.
“Take the cash, Jen,” It only took him two long steps to stand in my way, cash being dangled from his fingers.
It would be churlish, and counter-productive going off his expression, to refuse the money he was holding out. Mumbling a quick thanks, I took the cash from him and darted out the kitchen. My getaway was clean, I managed to get out the front door without anyone stopping me. Once behind the wheel of my car and heading to our local store, the tension in my neck eased slightly. My back remained rigid though, perhaps the longer I stayed out the more my body would relax. Unfortunately it didn’t take as long as I wanted to get to the store. Where was traffic when you needed it? And surprisingly for a Saturday, the amount of shoppers milling about wasn’t a huge number. I was able to fill the basket with the listed tubs of ice-cream, use the self-service check out, and waltz out the store in under twenty minutes. Shit. The drive home was done as slowly as possible and I still ended up making the return journey in less time than it had taken for me to get to the store.
“Did you get them, Mommy?” Megan was yelling from the front door, standing in queen bee position in front her cousins, and no doubt warned by her father about running out to greet me while I finished parking up.
Forcing a cheerful grin, I shouted back through my open window, “Of course I got them, I also ate them all.”
With the SUV stationary and the engine now off, Megan came out the front door. “I know you didn’t. You wouldn’t have done that.”
I pressed the button to close the window and grabbed the bag of ice cream from the passenger seat before jumping out the car. A quick click of the key fob and I hefted the bag up for Megan to see. “Ice cream.”
The other children piled out the front door and accosted me like the swarm they were.
“Freddie,” I groaned in disgust. “Why haven’t you wiped your nose?”
“I have, Auntie Jen,” he insisted, even though it was clear to see he was currently the holder of copious amounts of snot. “I wiped it before.”
“You may have,” I conceded as I herded them towards the front door. “But you need to wipe it again.”
“Did you get peppermint ice cream?” Freddie wiped his nose with the sleeve of his t-shirt and tried to step around Megan to get to the bag I held. “Auntie Jen? Auntie Jen, I asked for peppermint ice cream.”
“She got it, Freddie.” Megan edged him back with a hand to the shoulder. “Daddy put it on the list,” Megan grabbed my arm. “Didn’t he, Mommy?”
“Yes, sweetie,” I assured her. “Come on, everyone inside before the ice cream melts.” That was all it took for them to rush back into the house. Megan tugged at the handle of the bag and I sighed before handing it over. With a triumphant noise, she led the charge and I murmured a weak, “Don’t run,” to them all.
My steps were laboured as I walked into the house. Would this dread ever leave? Mom was waiting in the entrance hallway, she did nothing to hide the concern in her expression.
“Are you alright, Jennifer? Why didn’t you ask me to go with you to the store? I was looking for you then Connor told me-”
“Mom,” I interrupted her mini-rant with a tired smile. “It’s fine. I wasn’t gone that long.” I actually wished it had been longer.
“Hmph,” she huffed and shook her head as she moved off. “If you had told me you were going to the store I could’ve asked you to bring back some antacids for me.”
“Isn’t there any in the medicine cabinet?” I asked, following her further into the house.
“Connor checked, there isn’t any.” she advised.
“Ok, I’ll head back to the store,” It wasn’t as altruistic an offer as it sounded, my suggestion was self-serving. I really didn’t want to be here.
“Don’t be silly,” Mom waved a hand through the air. “Have you eaten yet? Betty wants to discuss Megan’s birthday with you, she mentioned something about having a little get-together at theirs,” Mom checked my reaction with a sidelong glance. Seeing no change in my demeanour, she carried on. “I told her we’ll see what happens. Are you ok, Jennifer?”
“I’m fine, Mom,” came my assurance. How many times had she asked me that since we’d arrived? The last thing I wanted was my mom worrying about me. “And I’m not hungry,”
“You should eat something,” she ordered as we passed by the doorway of the living room. Mom sent a small wave to someone inside the room, I didn’t notice who. “You barely ate anything at breakfast and you didn’t eat with Megan and me for lunch.”
“I’ll get something,” I mumbled to get her off my back.
When we got to the kitchen, it felt manic, at least to me. The children were swarming around the centre island while Connor tried to systematically portion out equal amounts of ice cream of all the flavours for their taste comparison. Lala and Derek weren’t in here, and I didn’t blame them – the excited shrieks were enough to have me backing out the kitchen, except my mom was behind me and she absent-mindedly pushed me forward. Muttering something about getting food inside my stomach and herding me towards the table laden with goodies, it was better to simply acquiesce. I sidestepped a few people with a small smile of acknowledgement and headed for the table. How much had Connor spent on the food? If things had been normal, we would’ve done the food ourselves, maybe a dish or two from his mom. My mom would’ve done what she did today and brought her delicious ribs, sometimes she would do a veggie dish also. She hadn’t felt up to it this time, not with me and Megan getting underfoot in her kitchen.
“Hey, boss lady,” a soft male voice was quickly followed by a light touch on my arm.
I turned sideways with a genuine smile. When had he gotten here? “Hi, Martin,” There was an awkward pause, one where I could see him silently deliberating on whether to go in for a hug. Martin was cool, but he wasn’t Ben or Eddie. They were the first staff we’d ever taken on at the company and there was an unspoken hierarchy between our employees, one I didn’t dare fiddle with. I knew he was weighing up what would be considered inappropriate, and I knew he was stressing over it if the anxious glint in his eye was anything to go off. Ben wouldn’t have hesitated to squeeze me into a bear hug, nor would Eddie. Martin hesitated so I made the choice for him. Leaning forward I gave him a loose hug and asked, “How are you? It’s been a while.”
He was smiling when I broke the hug and stepped back. “Yes, it’s good to see you. I’ve been alright,” He shuffled on his feet, scratched his chin then tugged nervously at his shirt. “Erm, how about you?”
“I’m fine,” I replied. “Did the others come with you?” I hadn’t really looked in the living room on my way to the kitchen. The whole gang could be here.
“No, uh,” Martin adjusted his collar. “Eddie’s away with his family this weekend. Angela and Owen are on call today – I think they had a residential job this morning.” He was listing it off on his fingers, divulging the information as if we were on the warehouse floor and I was still an active boss. “Yuri’s sick-”
“Who?”
“Yuri,” Martin repeated blandly.
“Oh, yeah,” I remembered now. “Yuri, the new guy.”
Martin nodded then his eyes widened with embarrassment when he deduced why my memory of Yuri was vague. Martin’s gaze darted around the room as he awkwardly cleared his throat. “Er, yeah, he’s sick.”
There was an uncomfortable pause between us. I didn’t know Yuri very well, he had started working for us about a month before Cory’s – I exhaled loudly and forced a smile to my lips. With a light an
d friendly pat on his upper arm, I rescued us both from the awful moment by saying, “It’s nice to see you, Martin.” I gestured to the food. “Better get something to eat before it all goes. I’m going to get some grub myself.”
He made a sound of agreement, or perhaps relief, as I moved off towards the table and grabbed a plate up. I hoped these disposable plates were recyclable, otherwise Connor would face Megan’s disappointment. Puffs, a couple slices of honey-glazed ham, mmm, a couple of those battered prawns. The one tray of ribs I saw on the table was empty. I guess Connor was being frugal with the...his ribs. Where had he put the other two trays? Probably in the oven, definitely hidden somewhere out of Lala’s sight.
“Jennifer, pass me the salad dressing, please.” Came from behind me.
I knew the voice and urgh, don’t let him be a dick again. My patience was thin. I reached over to nab the bottle then turned around to hand it to him. “Here you go, Paul.”
“Thanks,” he replied and deftly flicked the lid open with his thumb before drizzling the dressing over his salad. Ah, maybe I should put some salad on my plate too. Paul’s eyes searched the table, zoning in on the empty tray. His mouth curled downwards as he asked, “What happened to the ribs?” He checked my plate, which I thought was bold of him. What were his intentions if there were ribs on my plate? Try to convince me to share? Paul’s frown deepened as he looked around, scanning the counters and even leaning sideways in an attempt to catch a glimpse of the centre island. “I thought there were a couple of trays. Are the ribs all gone already?”
I shrugged and turned back towards the table. “I’m not sure, Paul. I haven’t had any.”
“Hmph,” he grumbled and moved up to my side, close enough that his arm brushed against mine. “Is that all you’re eating? You’ve barely got anything on your plate. Put some more food on there.”