by A. E. Murphy
“Yes, of course.”
“Good. Now get out.”
The door slams.
The sun is setting. It’s getting cold, but I can’t feel it on my skin. All I can feel is my hair whipping across my face with the strong breeze.
This is where we met, Caleb and I. It’s the first time I’ve been here since before he died. It’s shocking how easy it is to sit here, to remember the good times we had. It feels like a dream; it doesn’t feel real.
The only thing that feels real is my hate for him, my hate for Nathan.
My hate for the fact that I’m the one who got pulled into these sick and twisted games they’ve played.
And Dillan… poor Dillan. He’ll grow up without a father because his father was a selfish bastard, and then the person who took on the role of his father let us both down.
“Please don’t take him from me. If I lose her, he’s all I have.”
Get out of my head! Everybody just get out of my head!
My phone rings. It’s mum. I answer. “I’ll be home soon.”
“Where are you? You’ve been gone a while. Dillan’s getting hungry.”
“Just ten more minutes,” I breathe, my hands trembling from the cold I don’t feel.
She exhales a long breath. “Okay, but be quick. I’m not sure how much longer I can distract him and we’re out of milk.”
Damn it. “Okay, I’m on my way.”
“I love you,” she says and I hang up.
Love?
It’s nothing but a weakness. A plague.
I walk home slowly, taking the long way. I’m hoping for some kind of revelation, something that will make me suddenly feel better, like the punch line to a joke. Maybe Caleb will pop out from behind a car and go, “Just kidding!” Although right now I think that would make everything so much worse.
That’s what this is right? Just one big joke.
I close the door and rush to my fussy little boy. He goes to me eagerly and accepts his dinner without bother. Mum watches me, her eyes sad and weary.
“Do you feel better after your walk?”
“Not really,” I reply honestly. She can see from my face that nothing has changed.
“He was sitting up all by himself, though he fell a few times and got quite frustrated with himself.” She smiles and follows me into the room.
“Did you?” I grin, using my baby voice to Dillan, who’s still suckling away. His eyes come to me and I almost gasp at how much he looks like Nathan when he’s frowning. Shudder. That’s strange. “Don’t frown. You’ll get wrinkles.”
“The same can be said to you,” my mum says with a quirked brow.
I shrug and settle into the corner of the couch. My phone, which has been switched off since I left the other day, is sat on the desk beside the sofa and more than anything I want to pick it up and switch it on. It’s weird not using it. I use it for so much, but I just can’t handle anything right now.
“Is that Sasha coming up the driveway?” My Mum asks, peeking between the blinds over the window. “She’s carrying something. You stay there, I’ll get it.”
“Okay.” I wait and listen as the front door opens.
I wait and listen to hushed whispers. Then the door closes and mum returns to the room with a small box in her hands.
“What’s that?” I nod at the box as she places it on the coffee table. She shrugs. “No idea. Sasha said that Nathan asked her to bring it round. She said that he insisted you read them before you make any final decisions.”
I stare at the box, my mind completely blank. I’m not sure what to do with it. Should I read whatever is in there?
“She said he’s a mess,” she continues, her voice soft and cautious. “I told her it serves him right.”
Again I don’t respond.
“I’m surprised he didn’t follow you.” I know she’s referring to Nathan. That much is obvious. Honestly, I was surprised too. It’s one of the reasons I went to the beach. I knew he would never follow me onto the sand.
“He’s giving me space.”
“Well, that’s good.” She taps her fingers on her knee after taking the seat by the window. “Do you…”
“No.” I cut her off before she asks me for the hundredth time if I want to talk about it. “I’m fine…”
“I might be able to help.” Can she? She doesn’t know the half of it. I haven’t told her. I don’t want to tell her that her daughter fell for two arseholes from the same family and might be knocked up again.
“I just need to deal with things myself first before I let other people give me their input.” I stand with Dillan cradled to my chest. “Can you pass me the box please?”
She places it on my free arm, where I grip it tightly to the side of my ribs. “If you need me, I’m here until ten, then I have work.”
“We’ll be fine.” I ascend the stairs, the box digging into my side.
I shouldn’t want to look inside it. I shouldn’t want to think of him anymore. I’ve made my decision.
Stupid curiosity.
When Dillan has finished eating, I sit him between my legs and pass him his favourite lady bug shaped teddy with shiny eyes that crackle when slapped or crushed by his tiny fists. He babbles happily to himself and his bug, squealing when he tries to chew on it but his own hands move it out of the way.
Mum was right; he is sitting up almost all by himself.
“Mum!” I call, making Dillan jolt. His chubby arms spasm mid-air and his legs kick out, causing him to fall backwards against my knee. I laugh and help him back up while waiting for her to respond. “Can you bring me my phone?” It’s the only camera I have.
I hear her grumbling as she comes up the stairs. She throws my phone at me and grumbles all the way back down.
“Granny’s mardy,” I say to Dillan as my phone loads. “I think she’s unhappy because Mummy is unhappy and Granny doesn’t like it when Mummy is unhappy. Just like Mummy doesn’t like it when Dillan is unhappy.” He tilts his head and gives me a wide mouthed smile. “Are you following me?”
Ignoring the numerous texts that begin assaulting my phone, I quickly start snapping pictures of Dillan sitting up all by himself. This is the first time I’ve felt something all week. I feel warmer, like I’ve been sitting in a fridge for a really long time and the door has finally opened.
As much as I want to, I don’t read my messages. I’m too emotionally exhausted. I do, however, answer my phone when it rings and only because I know immediately who the number belongs to.
“Is it done?” I ask, chewing on my lip and praying that I sound confident.
“Yes. We sign everything Wednesday morning.” I almost shudder at the sound of his voice. It makes me feel physically sick. “I’ll collect on Wednesday, at five as agreed.”
“And then you disappear and you never bother any of us again.” I repeat what I said the last time we had this conversation.
“How do I know it’ll all be there? How do I know you don’t have more copies?”
“I have nothing I want from you.” I laugh incredulously. “Nathan has everything he wants; you’re still getting money. I haven’t been unfair. If anything, I’ve saved the family business by forcing you to make a smart choice.”
He harrumphs and clips, “Five. Wednesday.”
“It’ll be on the table in the dining room as promised. All of it. Or all of what I’ve found, anyway.” My heart thrums a heavy beat and excitement floods my veins. “Bye Mr Weston.”
He hangs up and I fall back onto the bed, wanting to cheer at my own brilliance at the same time as wanting to vomit from the immense fear and guilt I feel. I’ve never been reckless. I’ve never been mean, yet here I am blackmailing my son’s grandfather.
I couldn’t not do anything though. As much as I despise Nathan right now, he didn’t deserve to go to prison or sully his reputation after everything he’s been through. According to Mr Weston, Nathan accosted him in his office and beat him rather badly, breaking two of hi
s ribs and his nose. I don’t condone violence, but I can hardly deny that, if this is the truth, Mr Weston definitely deserved it.
“Come on,” I say to Dillan after sliding the mystery box under the bed. “Let’s go and book Granny for Wednesday. Mummy has things to do.”
“Mum,” I say, my voice sickly sweet. “You know you love me?”
“The question is, do I love you enough to say yes to whatever it is you’re about to ask?”
“I have to go out on Wednesday. I’ll be leaving at ten, but I won’t be back until late. Can you watch Dillan? Please?”
“Where are you going?”
“I just have some things to sort out.”
She frowns, wanting to press me further but not knowing how to. “What about work?”
“I’m on the rota: Tuesday, Thursday and the weekend.” Thanks to Valentine and her sympathetic ways.
“You need to express then.” She grabs the breast pump from the cupboard and places it and four sterilised bottles on the counter beside me. “Think you can manage it?”
I hope so. “Yeah.”
“Please smile again Gwen,” she whispers. “I miss it. You’re so beautiful when you smile.”
My bottom lip trembles at her words. I daren’t speak, so I nod instead.
******
I roll the dough out, my usual joy in baking non apparent. Normally it would relax me, but with everything that’s happening tomorrow, my nerves are on edge. I have this awful feeling that something is going to go horribly wrong. I’m probably just being paranoid.
“You have a visitor in the front,” Elle calls and Valentine doesn’t even bother turning around. She does however grumble about her friends never coming to see her.
I stiffen as I wipe my hands on my apron. It’s Nathan. I just know it. Or Sasha, somebody else I refuse to talk to right now.
When I glance beyond the counter, I’m shocked to see my visitor isn’t Nathan; nor is it Sasha.
I stare at the handsome blonde with a dimple in each cheek, smiling nervously at me with his hands tucked into his pockets.
“Eric?” I know it’s him, so I don’t know why I’m saying his name in such a questioning tone.
“Hey,” he says, still smiling nervously. “How are you?”
I move towards the counter at the corner where we’re mostly out of earshot and give him a smile as nervous as his is. “I’m okay. How are you?”
“Good… so… I am here for a reason,” he states, scratching at the light stubble along his jaw. “Actually I came to ask a favour.”
“Go on…”
“Well, it’s the kid’s birthday tomorrow.” He chews on the inside of his cheek. “And she really, and by really I mean really, wants a cake shaped like a castle with these Disney characters or something.” He holds up his phone and shows me the movie.
“By tomorrow?” I blink, staring at the snowman on the screen of his phone.
“I understand if you can’t; it’s just Mum ordered one two weeks ago and, well… they called us this morning and said they couldn’t do it. I figured I’d cash in that something special.”
I can do it… I’m sure I can. “It’s no problem, but I’m not at work tomorrow. Can you come by later? At around sixish? Or I’ll…” Crap, I don’t have his number. “Call me at about four and I’ll be able to give you a time to pick it up.”
His shoulders sag with relief. “Are you sure? I mean, after everything my friends said. They were dickheads.”
“I deserved it.”
“No, you actually didn’t. We never promised each other anything.” He smiles again, this time it’s less nervous and friendlier. “So I’m sorry.”
“Me too.” I clear my throat and nod towards the customers. “I should go. Do you have the character figures? That would help. We might have some in stock, but with how new it is…”
His eyes light up. “No, but I could go and get some?”
“I won’t need them until the cake is done anyway, but you should be able to get them from the supermarket. Also, what flavour were you after?”
“Any, surprise us. Whatever you have going.”
“Right.”
“Brilliant, thank you.” He beams, rubbing his hands together. “I’ll call.”
I give him a wave as he exits the store and then get back to work. This is going to be a very long day, but I do owe him one and I’m not one to renege on a promise.
“Who was it?” Valentine asks, watching as I grab the ingredients I need.
“Eric. He needs a cake by tomorrow.” I draw a quick picture of the cake I’m going to make and she winces along with me. “Yep… this is definitely going to be a long day.”
“We can get it done if we work together. I’m not letting you outshine me just yet.” She winks playfully and goes back to her scones.
Shaking my head, I go back to mine. Well, mine are croissants not scones.
As promised I got a call at four from a happy sounding Eric, who managed to get hold of the figures we need to make the cake perfect. He dropped them off and has now returned to pick up the final product.
“It’s a little bigger than we were planning on making it, but with the turrets and icing… it was hard to estimate,” I say apologetically when we place the large white box on the counter.
I duck under and stand beside him as Valentine lifts the top off and shows him the cake. His gratitude comes in no small amount, if his smiling and praise is anything to go by.
“I’ll help you put it in the car.” I make my way to the door and hold it open as he carefully carries the box through.
“It’s unlocked,” he says and I quickly pull the front door open. After placing the box on the front seat and strapping it in with the seatbelt, which he seems to think is funny for whatever reason, he turns back to me with his easy smile. “Thanks Gwen.”
I shake my head and pick at the drying mess on my shirt. “It was nice to see you again.”
“Yeah, I’m glad things haven’t been left the way they were.” He admits, pulling a tiny marshmallow from the ends of my ponytail. I wear a hairnet whilst working, so lord knows how I get stuff in my hair. “It was nice to see you again. We should get coffee or something.”
Yeah right. “Sure. Don’t be a stranger.”
He leans forward and brushes his lips against the corner of my mouth. I remain perfectly still, unsure of how to respond.
“For someone who works in a bakery, you’re getting way too skinny,” he comments playfully as he walks backwards towards his car. “You’re losing my favourite assets.”
I cross my arms over my chest, making him laugh, and roll my eyes. “Bye Eric.”
“See you later.” He taps the top of his car, waves and moments later he’s driving away.
“That didn’t take you long.”
Holy crap! I jump at the sound of his voice so close to the back of my head and turn to see a seething Nathan, his fists clenched around a large, elegant and beautiful bouquet of flowers. He looks terrible. I’m certain his shirt is buttoned up wrong and the fact he has the shadow of a bear across his jaw and lips isn’t a good sign. He’s lost weight and his eyes have dark rings beneath them. He looks how I look. Depressed. “Don’t do that!”
“Do what?” He holds the flowers out to me. “Here.”
I stare at them. Why is he giving them to me? I check his shoes, wondering if maybe he needs to tie his laces and can’t do it whilst holding a large bunch of flowers.
Staring at me expectantly, he shakes them slightly. “They’re for you.”
“No thank you,” I respond blankly and try to step around him, but he immediately blocks my path. “Can I help you with something?”
His eyes narrow and the flower wielding arm drops back to his side. “You and Eric?”
“He ordered a cake.” I don’t even know why I’m defending myself. “Excuse me. I’m trying to get back to work.” So I can finish and go home.
“He kissed you.”
&n
bsp; “Yes, he did, good observation.” I sigh, rubbing my eyes. Christ I’m tired. “Look, I need to get back to work so I can finish and go home to Dillan.”
“I said if you kissed him again I wouldn’t forgive you.” Is he not listening to a word I’m saying? “Are you dating him?”
“He ordered a cake,” I snap. “Is there something you need?”
He holds the flowers out. “I’ve known you for just over a year and I don’t even know what your favourite flower is.”
“It’s called move out of my way and it smells like bugger off.” I go to step around him and again he cuts me off. “Nathan!” I come very close to stomping my foot on the ground.
“So I got one of everything.” He shrugs, rubbing the back of his neck. “And now I feel stupid.”
“Because I’m dating Eric?” I ask sarcastically and his face falls.
“You’re dating Eric?”
“No, Nathan, like I said… he was ordering a bloody cake.”
He smiles slightly. “Okay. Good. I was thinking we could go to dinner this Friday.”
Blink. “You’re joking. Right?”
“No.” He definitely doesn’t look like he’s joking. What’s he playing at? “What time do you finish work?”
“I’m not going to dinner with you.” I laugh slightly at the hilarity of this situation. “I’ve made it clear where I stand on this…” My hand moves back and forth between us. “…situation. I want nothing more to do with you.”
His face remains impassive as he answers. “We need to be civilised for Dillan’s sake.”
“You need to leave… for my sake.”
“I want to see him. I miss him.”
“And we need to go to dinner to solve this because…?”
“That’s just because I miss you. And I’m not letting you ignore me anymore.”
Wait… what? “You’re not letting me ignore you anymore?”
“No.” Why does he look and sound so calm and collected when all I feel is agitation?
“And how’d you figure that one out?”
“I love you. That’s how. I miss you and I want you home.”