by Emma Browne
One morning in the spring, I had been feeling particularly stressed. Mum had had chemo the day before, and the effect had kicked in today, which meant that she spent most of the day exhausted. She had slept most of the evening after I got home from school, and when I went in to check on her, she seemed disoriented. She hadn’t eaten much and was clearly losing weight. All she wanted was ice chips to crunch on, so we had made sure the freezer was full of them.
Seeing Mum – who was usually full of life – struggling like this was painful, and when I went to bed that night, it took me a long time to fall asleep.
I woke just after 4am, when Dad knocked on my door. ‘Miranda?’
Instantly awake, I sat up. ‘Yes. What is it?’
Dad put his head round the door and said, ‘You coming with us, or what?’
‘Where? What’s going on?’ I rubbed my face. Had I forgotten something? Was everything ok?
‘Everything is fine. We just need to go do this thing. Come on.’ He left my room, and I got up and went after him.
‘What thing?’
‘Get dressed – you’ll want something warm.’
I returned to my room, pulled on jeans and a warm jumper over my pyjama shirt, and tied my hair into a ponytail. Mum and Dad were standing by the front door when I came back. I put my coat and boots on, and we went out to the car.
‘Where are we going?’
Mum shook her head. ‘He won’t tell me either.’
It was still dark outside, but on the horizon the sky was starting to brighten slightly. Dad drove us to the Dunsapie Loch car park on Arthur’s Seat, and I realised he wanted us to go up the hill.
‘Do you think this is a good idea?’ I frowned. ‘I don’t think Mum can walk all that way.’
Mum was struggling to get out of the car. ‘I’ll be ok. We’ll go slow, right?’ She smiled and I knew this kind of thing was part of what she loved about Dad. Still, I would have been surprised if she could walk across the car park, never mind up the hill.
‘You’ll have to carry the picnic.’ Dad handed me his rather heavy rucksack. I slung it onto my back, and he went and squatted in front of Mum. ‘On you get.’
Mum smiled. ‘Are you sure? I’m sure I can walk it.’
There was no way she could have walked it.
‘Why walk when you can ride, though?’ Dad said, and Mum put her arms over his shoulders and hopped on, wrapping her legs around his waist. Dad stood up and let out a loud ‘Neeeiiiggghhh!’ and Mum’s embarrassed smile melted into a laugh.
I shook my head at them, and we started our walk. Dad sang silly songs and Mum joined in. I wondered how many of my class mates had ever been woken at 4am because their Dad wanted to carry their cancer-sick Mum up a hill to watch the sunrise, and thought I was the luckiest girl in the world to have parents who loved each other so much.
By the time we got to the plateau, the sun was starting to push its way over the horizon. We decided not to scramble our way up the last bit to the top. Instead, I set out the blanket I had carried, and Dad set Mum down onto it. Out of the rucksack, I pulled out the coffee he had packed for himself, ginger tea for Mum and me, three small bottles of water, a freezer bag filled with slowly melting ice chips, a container with sandwiches and a big tub of cut up fruit.
‘Aw, Jimmy.’ Mum sighed, and though she had big dark circles under her eyes, she looked happy.
‘Now then.’ He rubbed his hands together before sitting down on the blanket behind Mum for her to be able to lean on him. Dad wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close, and she closed her eyes and settled in. He muttered something in her ear, and her eyes flew open with a laugh as she slapped at his leg.
‘Jimmy!’ Mum’s cheeks took on a more healthy-looking tone.
‘Uh-huh.’ His eyes sparkled as he looked at her. ‘Be a dear and pass me my coffee mug, Miranda, would you?’
We ate, mostly in silence, as we watched the sun rise. Mum had half a sandwich and some fruit along with her ice chips, and Dad and I both felt better for it.
I was late for school that morning – it took us quite some time to get home – but I didn’t mind. That morning was a slice of heaven for me.
Later, when I told Julia about it, she suggested we start a tradition of going up Arthur’s Seat to see the sunrise once a year. Going up Arthur’s Seat with Julia and, later, Sophia, was different than going up with my parents, but it still became one of the highlights of my year.
***
Jack
When Miranda first told me that Lisa had been diagnosed with cancer, I said, ‘They can cure cancer now though, can’t they?’
I didn’t mean to be insensitive, but I couldn’t handle the worry that was in her eyes, so I figured I would play down the scary bits and help her see things from a more positive perspective instead. Crying about things that couldn’t be changed had never helped anyone, in my opinion.
She nodded. ‘Yeah, but it sounds like the treatment might be pretty intense. She’s likely to lose her hair, and she’ll be sick for a long time.’
I shrugged. ‘I’m sure it’ll be a challenge, but she’ll be ok. It’s Lisa, right?’
Miranda nodded again. I could tell she wanted to cry, but I couldn’t have that. Instead I set out to distract her, so we went into the city for an evening at a comedy show. There was an age restriction on the show, but we snuck Miranda in, and we had a great time. And for the next few months, whenever Miranda seemed down, I came up with a new adventure for her. We didn’t talk about the cancer, or anything related to it. Instead, I insisted everything was fine, and tried to make sure that she would relax when she was with me.
We started running together. At first, we did a couch to five kilometres program, but soon we were going further, and signing up for races. I enjoyed running, but Miranda caught the bug – and soon it was she that kept insisting we go for runs. Even on days when we didn’t have time, we would run down to the sea and turn at the edge of the water before running home again.
If it was hot, or Miranda seemed particularly down, I would chase her down the beach, pick her up as we got to the edge of the water, and keep running into the sea as she would squeal and giggle in my ear. Then we would run back home, sopping wet but happy.
I think the reason her parents didn’t have a problem with us hanging out that much was that they saw how her mood was lighter when she had spent time with me. They could see she needed to be away from the cancer at home.
Still, they must have worried about us and all our hormones. And they would have been right to worry. I was a year and a half older than Miranda, and she was hot.
Really hot.
We became an item when Miranda turned 13. I was still 14 then, and at that point we were happy to hold hands and kiss. We stuck to the rules set out by our youth leaders – and though I can see why they talked to us about boundaries in relationships, I also wonder what on earth they were thinking. Considering the level of power they held in our lives at the time, one might think they could have been more careful to invite us into conversation – instead of setting down a bunch of rules none of us were that committed to keeping in the long run. Even so, we did stick to their rules for a few years.
As we grew older, though, we both found it harder to keep our hands off each other, and we were both starting to question a whole heap of the rest of the things they were telling us at church.
By the time I started uni, we weren’t far off sleeping together. If we had still cared about what God thought at that time, the rules and the resulting guilt from breaking them might have been a big enough deterrent.
I doubt it, though.
Keeping our hands within the boundaries had become increasingly difficult. And seeing as we’d had plenty of conversations by then about how we were coming to the conclusion that God was actually not somebody we wanted much of a relationship with, we weren’t all that affected by the guilt involved with breaking the rules. Particularly, the idea of how God appeared to enjoy inf
licting all kinds of hardship and pain on us in order to grow our character was disturbing to us both.
No, breaking the rules wasn’t a deterrent, but it was important to me that we only did what we were both comfortable with. I never wanted to pressure Miranda in any way, especially as I knew she had a load of crap going on at home.
It wasn’t until my second year of uni – when I had moved out of my parents’ house and in with Nick and Michael – that we actually slept together.
By then, Lisa was finished with her chemo, and had been told the cancer was gone. She was free.
And, as we all breathed a big sigh of relief, Miranda turned seventeen and I moved into the new flat. I decided that, when the opportunity next presented itself, we should hold off so we could talk about it. I didn’t want our first time to be something that just happened. We had waited a long time and I wanted it to be special.
Talking led to Miranda going for an appointment at the Family Planning clinic, where she got birth control pills and condoms. Then, we decided on a date when we knew Michael and Nick would both be away. After all the planning and anticipation that went into it all, we both had high hopes for the evening.
Way too high hopes.
But even though our first time was terrible in many ways, it was also special. And things got better as time went on.
***
Miranda
When Mum was diagnosed with cancer, it felt like the world fell out from under my feet, and though we got through it one step at a time, I spent the whole year worrying. I worried about Mum dying or reacting negatively to the chemo, and about Dad starting to drink again.
Any peace I had felt when Dad went to rehab and came home in recovery dissipated.
Karen saw that I was worried and kept telling me God was in control and I didn’t need to worry, giving me Bible verses and telling me she was praying for us.
And as thankful I was for all Karen did for us, her words also frustrated me.
If God really was in control, it was within his power to fix Mum, and help Dad stay sober and dependable. Then why didn’t he fix things? Did he want us to suffer? Was he sitting on a cloud laughing as we went through this hell?
If so, he wasn’t someone I wanted to have anything to do with.
Or, if our suffering wasn’t for his enjoyment, then was he making us go through this in order to show us that we could depend on him?
If so, how very insecure of him.
Or, did he make us go through this suffering in order to grow our characters? Or so we would have an amazing testimony of his faithfulness at the end?
If so, his plan was flawed and failing. My character wasn’t getting any better. And if we got through the whole ordeal, then I would thank the doctors who had treated Mum, not God.
Though Jack switched off or changed the subject every time I tried to talk about how I was feeling, hanging out with him did help take my mind off things.
We explored parts of Edinburgh I hadn’t known existed, started running, and hung out with his friends from uni.
And we made out.
A lot.
I would have slept with him a lot earlier, but though I knew he was eager to be with me too, he was a lot more principled than I was, and kept us from going there for a long time. He didn’t want us to sleep together whilst Mum was sick, because he wanted to be sure I didn’t sleep with him because I was feeling upset about something.
Mum finished her chemo about nine months after her initial diagnosis, and then we spent the summer holding our breath, before receiving the news that the cancer was gone, and she was in the clear. Finally, we could relax, and life could go back to normal.
By then, Jack, Nick and Michael had moved into a flat closer to the university and were about to start their second year at uni. I had just started my last year of high school.
Jack and I planned the evening we were going to make love for weeks before it happened.
I was on the pill, and we also had condoms, because you couldn’t be too safe, right?
We told my parents I was going on a youth group trip.
Then Jack took me out for dinner, and afterwards we went back to the flat he shared with Nick and Michael, who were both in North America for a few weeks before their school year started.
Jack had cleaned the flat, and there were rose petals scattered across the bed.
I smiled when I saw them, and he blushed and rolled his eyes.
‘So...’ He closed the bedroom door behind us. He seemed nervous. ‘I know we said we would make love tonight, but we don’t need to do anything you don’t want to do.’
My smile grew. ‘Uh-huh.’ I grabbed his belt and stepped up close to him, looking into his eyes. I ran my hands up his strong chest and behind his neck. ‘It’s ok. It’s just us. Let’s just be together and see where things go.’ I pulled his head down and kissed him gently before nipping his upper lip.
Soon we were on the bed, and clothes were coming off.
Afterwards, as I lay with his arm wrapped around me, and my head rested on his chest, I wondered if there could be anything better than being together with the person you loved.
Chapter 16
Present
Miranda
Jack had, predictably, been disappointed when I had told him I hadn’t changed my mind about the fling ending when we landed back home in Edinburgh. He told me he was thankful for the time I had given him and spent the remainder of the flight from Helsinki to Edinburgh with his arm wrapped around me as I pretended to sleep.
I couldn’t actually sleep – I was enjoying being close to him too much and wanted to soak up the last few hours of him before we landed, and I had to return to reality. But I was worried that Jack would try to convince me to change my mind if I appeared to be awake, hence the pretending to sleep.
Whilst I hadn’t changed my mind about wanting a long-term relationship with Jack, I knew I would miss the companionship and excitement that came with this type of relationship. I would miss feeling close to somebody.
All this did give me pause, and I wondered if my determination never to have a long-term committed relationship was realistic. I knew a relationship with Jack was out of the question – that had been established a long time ago – but maybe I could find somebody a little safer? Someone I could live a nice enough life with, and have all the benefits of a relationship, but without the risk of falling in love or, God forbid, having children.
I shivered as Jack stroked his hand over my arm.
A few minutes later, we started the descent, and I had to fake wake up before putting my seat belt back on. I glanced at Jack, who was smirking knowingly at me.
‘Nice nap?’
I gave an embarrassed laugh as I stretched my arms over my head. ‘So nice.’
He smiled wryly. ‘Come here. We still have ten minutes before we’re on Scottish ground again.’
I leaned close, and he wrapped his hands around my neck, thumbs stroking my cheeks, and fingers under my ears – much like the first time he kissed me properly on the way to Hong Kong.
He took a deep breath. ‘I won’t push, Miranda, but the offer to keep going like this will always stand.’
My eyes flew to his. ‘Jack…’
His eyes were steady and determined. ‘There will never be anyone other than you for me.’
‘Don’t say that. You’ll find a nice girl to marry some day and have lots of little adventurous children with messy blonde hair and gorgeous blue eyes.’
His eyes narrowed. ‘Are you done? ‘Cause I’m going to kiss you now.’
I gulped and nodded.
Leaning in, he kissed me as though his life depended on it, pouring himself into every bit of it.
And I couldn’t help but reciprocate.
Whilst I hadn’t allowed myself any wistful dreams of what if, I was uncomfortably aware of how right it felt to be with Jack.
Later, I told myself I got so involved because of our history, but I knew it was more than t
hat.
I knew I would always love Jack.
Love just wasn’t enough to base a long-term relationship on.
Chapter 17
Past
Miranda
When Mum finally got the all clear, we all took a deep breath and thought we could relax. Life could go back to normal again. After the summer of not being in treatment, she was starting to look healthier again, and her hair had started to grow back.
I came home late one night, a few days after getting the test results, and found Mum sitting alone in the living room. Dad still hadn’t come home. She had texted him and left messages on his cell phone, but so far, she hadn’t had any reply.
We later found out Dad had met an old friend at the bus stop after work, and when he told him about Mum’s recovery, the friend wanted to take him out to celebrate.
And that was that.
Dad couldn’t stop after one drink, and he couldn’t handle the shame of coming home drunk. So, he stayed away for ten days. When he finally came home, he found out he had lost his internship at the mechanic because he hadn’t shown up for ages. With Mum back at work and all the extra time on his hands, it wasn’t long before it happened again.
And again.
The relief and celebration of Mum being cancer free turned sour, and now coming home either meant Dad was home and hung over, or he was out drinking. Money started being tight as Dad spent what money there was on alcohol, and I knew it wouldn’t be long before things would start going missing.
It became clear things weren’t going to change.
I came home one day and found Mum with John and Karen in the kitchen. Mum wiped her hands across her face as I came in.
‘Hi Miranda.’ Karen stood up. ‘Cup of tea?’
‘Sure.’ I set down my backpack. ‘I’ll make it.’
When Mum had been in treatment, I had cut out caffeine – I was already stressed enough – and had started drinking herbal teas instead. I found a camomile tea I liked and poured hot water over the teabag as I took a deep breath. I knew what was coming, and still I cried as Mum told me.