by Evie Rose
The spare room is clean, so I skip it and move on to my son’s. It’s not too bad either, just some toys need to be put back in the toy box. I avoid the office for as long as I can, not wanting to deal with what I know is probably waiting for me. Instead, I tackle the bathroom and the toilet. Urine is all over the floor and I scrunch up my nose, yuck. I know it wasn’t my son who made this particular mess. I only cleaned here yesterday, and ever since Ricky has used the downstairs toilet. Joseph’s supposed to be a grown ass man, the fact he pisses on the floor and doesn’t even clean up after himself, makes me sick.
When I can’t avoid it any longer, I hold my breath and open the office door. The rancid odour gets to me anyway. It’s bitter and acidic and completely gross. I have no idea why they make the smell of semen sound so appealing in all the steamy books I’ve read. Maybe it’s just him; maybe it’s all the evil inside turning everything sour. Gluggy white gloop is all over the desk and the floor. It’s starting to dry up and going to be a bitch to clean. I’m sure he does this to punish me for not being more affectionate with him, for not willingly giving him frequent sex.
“Fucking pig,” I mutter to myself. “Haven’t you heard of a tissue?” Surely all men can’t be this vile? He has no shame. It’s even in the coffee cup that sits by the keyboard. I throw it in the bin and repeatedly gag, as I clean it all up.
Finally finished, I shower and put my happy mask back on while I go to pick up my son. I can’t let anyone see that there’s something seriously wrong with this family.
My phone rings again in the car, and I groan, expecting it to be Joseph checking up on how the cleaning went. A quick glance shows me it’s Rachel. Relief floods through me as I hit answer and talk on speakerphone.
“Hey.” I’m glad that I’m actually happy to hear from her, because she would instantly pick up on any false cheer in my voice. She’s one of the few friends that still bother to call. Since most of the time when people ring and want to catch up, I have to make excuses as to why I can’t. Joseph doesn’t like me out and about having fun and spending his money while he’s hard at work. He prefers me at home, doing the housework. I find it easier to just obey him, and therefore most of my old friends have given up on me.
Some were suspicious why I never came out anymore and why I’d become so withdrawn, so they tried to draw it out of me. However, lying soon became my second nature and they grew exasperated with me more and more each day, until the calls almost stopped. Rachel was a true friend though, she never disappeared. I know she worries about Ricky and me often, but doesn’t want to make my life any more difficult for me than it already is, so she tries not to be over bearing. She has no idea of the true extent of my problems, however.
“Hey girl! Long-time no speak. I’ve missed you.” She pulls me from my thoughts, making me realise how much I’ve missed her too. “I was just wondering if you guys want to come meet us down at McDonalds for a coffee, after school pick-up.”
“Sure that sounds great.” If she still takes the time to call and check up on me, the least I can do is make the effort to take her up on her offer for coffee. There’s only a small chance Joseph will find out and even then, it’s not like he can complain too much, because I was home cleaning all day. Well mostly. The unease I felt earlier at spending time with another man comes back to me. I wasn’t cheating though, and I’m allowed to have friends, I tell myself. Even if they are hot, male friends that make me think inappropriate thoughts.
“Awesome. See you in about half an hour, Roxi.”
“See you soon.” I click end as I pull into the parking lot and walk to the classroom to collect Ricky. He’s beyond excited that we’re going for a rare trip to McDonalds and darts into the play area with Rachel’s boy, Lachlan, as soon as we get there.
“So how have things been?” Rachel looks at me intently over the top of her mocha latte. I breathe in the smell of my own coffee and smile. This is nice. Normal. A real mumsy activity. I wish I could do it more often, even if I do have to keep to small talk to prevent lying to my best friend.
“Oh you know, the same old, same old. Busy, but good.”
“And what’s been keeping you so busy?” It seems like Rachel is in a digging mood today. It doesn’t happen often, usually only when it’s been a while since our last catch up. I sigh, defeated. I hate having to spin a bunch of bullshit to my bestie.
“Well I’ve been helping Joseph’s mum with some renovation projects.” Not a complete lie. We had a few chats on the phone about the changes she was making to their formal living room, and I gave her my input. I just imply to Rachel that I was more involved than what I really was.
“It’s good to see you’ve been out and about instead of slaving over the housework for a change, even if it’s only with your mother-in-law.” She seems satisfied and I steer the subject to something new.
“What about you? What have you been up to?”
“We went to the Broncos game on Friday. I think they may actually make the finals this year. It’s been years since that’s happened. The last time I remember was the season that we did a pub crawl after every game. That was the best tradition ever, although I don’t think my liver would agree with it anymore.” I laugh with her, as nostalgia fills me.
I used to go with her and her high school sweetheart, now turned husband, Mark, to every game. That was before I met Joseph. Everything back then was so carefree and easy. When I met Joseph, he came out a few times with us, but convinced me more often than not, to do something with just the two of us. I used to think it was romantic. If only I’d realised back then how important friends were, and was more adamant that I continue to spend time with them. It’d be great to take Ricky to a game. Nothing beats stomping your feet, screaming and cheering in a stadium with thousands of other fans when you’re a kid. I should definitely get him a Titan’s jersey. There are too many damn Broncos supporters around me.
“Urgh. Luke’s a bloody Broncos fan too. What is wrong with you guys? This is the home of the Titans.” I roll my eyes good naturedly, when they land back on Rachel, she is giving me the strangest look.
“Who’s Luke?”
My heart stops beating. Everything stills. I don’t hear the chatter in the restaurant anymore, or the children frolicking in the play area. None of it, just dead silence. How did I manage to slip up twice in one day? My throat has gone dry and I try to swallow, buying time to figure out an answer. I’m sick of fibbing to my best friend about everything though. I suddenly want to share the giddiness I feel over my new running partner with her. I know I can trust her.
I tell her all about my bizarre and confusing encounters with Luke, how surreal it all is. The attraction and want that ran through my veins as his hands slid along my body and how much those things surprised me in their intensity.
“Do you ever wonder if you married the wrong man?” As soon as the question leaves my mouth, I regret it. Of course she doesn’t question that. She adores Mark, and rightly so, he treats her like a queen. “I guess it’s just been a while since Joseph and I had time for a date night. We’ve lost some of the sizzle.” I try to play it off.
“Wow. You have been busy since I last saw you,” she jokes.
“Never mind, I’m being silly. I’m sure I’ll never see him again.” Only old habits die hard, because that’s a lie. I’m already thinking about the next time I’ll bump into him.
*****
I just make it through the door when I get a call from Joseph. Good timing, he’ll never know I went out and had a coffee with Rachel today.
“Hey. What’s up?”
“Hey Roxi.” He hardly ever calls me by my nickname anymore. It’s usually ‘Roxanne, clean this,’ or ‘Roxanne, what did you do that for, you dumb bitch.’ Sometimes I get endearments, but it’s generally when he wants sex.
Don’t get me wrong, it’s not horrible all the time. If I’m lucky, we don’t see much of each other and it’s more as if we’re roommates than husband and wife. Very seldom
, but it does happen, he’s in a good mood and does something nice. Like take me to dinner and a movie.
These are the times he completely messes with my head. He manipulates me. Just when I feel justified in hating him and trying to find a way to safely leave with Ricky, he acts like a loving husband. He makes me feel like I was blowing everything out of proportion during the bad times.
“I was just calling to let you know that I’m getting pizza on the way home. So consider this a night off cooking for you.”
“Thanks Joseph.” I can’t quite bring myself to call him Joey like I used to. “I’d love pizza, and I’m sure Ricky will be very excited too.”
An hour later, he comes in the door with a pizza in his hands, true to his word. He even has a bunch of flowers and strolls over to give them to me with a peck on the cheek. I try my best not to flinch and to appear grateful.
I wonder why he’s in such a chipper mood. Maybe he was blown by his secretary at work today. I wouldn’t put it past him. He could’ve even stopped at a whore house on the way home. Who knows what he does with our money. The thoughts have crossed my mind several times, especially since it’s been months since I slept with him. Surely, his hand can’t keep him happy for months on end? His hand is never able to keep me happy, that’s for sure. It’s not very talented.
After dinner, he sits next to Ricky on the couch and plays video games with him for a few hours, giving me time to read and relax, and I feel slightly guilty for the times I thought he was so evil.
“The house looks good, Roxi. Thanks for cleaning it up.” It’s nice to get some rare appreciation. “I’ve had a business trip come up last minute for tomorrow, just for the day. I’ll need you to accompany me to a business dinner at 6:00 p.m., before we get a late flight back.”
Oh, now the truth comes out. He was trying to butter me up so I’ll play the part of a happy little wife by his side in front of his co-workers. He likes it to look as though I worship the ground he walks on. His colleagues at the investment firm all turn their noses down at me as though I’m stupid, it won’t make for a pleasant evening.
“I’m not sure if I can possibly get a babysitter last minute,” I protest. It falls on deaf ears, though.
“Nonsense. My mother would be more than happy to watch him. I’ll call her now,” with that, he locks himself in his office for the night; leaving me to pack away the pizza boxes and put Ricky to bed. He doesn’t bother to let me know if his Mum can watch Ricky, so I go ahead and pack everyone’s bags just in case.
I guess my morning run is out of the question now. It’s probably for the best. I shouldn’t be spending so much time with another man anyway, even if we are just friends. It doesn’t mean I stop craving the attention he gave me though.
Chapter Four
“Most of us don't need a psychiatric therapist as much as a friend to be silly with.” - Robert Brault
Luke
I’m more than disappointed when I don’t see Roxi on my morning run the next day. By the day after that, I’ve come to the conclusion I must’ve scared her away, when I let my hands slide over her soft skin the way I did. However, when I get to the place we usually meet, she’s standing there, and it seems, waiting for me.
“Hey buddy.” She emphasises the ‘buddy,’ and I get her unspoken message loud and clear – keep your hands off me today, remember I’m married.
“Hey pal,” I joke back. What I really mean is message received. Friends, I’m okay with that. “What have you got there?” I ask, looking at the backpack in her hands.
“You’ll see.” She smirks. “You want to head over to the park on Main Street today?” Anything to spend some more time with her.
“Sure.” We jog to the park at a leisurely pace, chatting along the way. “So I didn’t see you yesterday.” I try to sound blasé, as if I’m not worried I overstepped the mark and scared her away the last time I saw her. As though I wasn’t anxious to see her again.
“I had to travel interstate for the day.”
I let out a breath at the realisation she wasn’t trying to avoid me. We’re okay, whatever we are. I know it’s supposed to be just friends, but it feels like there could be something more. However, neither of us are ready to face that. We’re content with this odd kinship just the way it is. “Sounds like fun,” I reply. She snorts and I love the fact that she doesn’t try and act like a lady in front of me, she is who she is, take it or leave it. “Or not,” I infer.
“Definitely not. It was a business dinner, a bunch of snooty people trying to outdo each other.”
“So you’re not the type of woman who likes to dress up and be the belle of the ball?” She scrunches up her face at this, as we come to a stop in the middle of the park.
“No. I’m the type to dress in a pair of cut-offs and a tank and kick around the footy,” she replies as she pulls a football out of the backpack. A Titan’s football. I can’t help but laugh.
“Awesome! I’d love to kick the crap out of the Titans.” The giggle that escapes her is the perfect balance, a tomboy that can have real fun, but still all woman.
We kick the ball back and forth for a while before playing a game. I resist the urge to tackle her, to pull her into my arms and take her down to the ground with me. We play touch instead. After dodging around me and sprinting down the field, Roxi scores again and walks back to me out of breath. Her smile reaches her eyes and her whole face lights up. She has a light sheen of sweat and a pale pink flush, the kind you can only achieve from a good workout. Even with the line of dirt that now trails down the side of her face, she’s healthy and glowing.
I stride up to her and glide my thumb down the mark, cupping her face in the motion. “Got it,” I whisper. Only my hand continues to linger around her delicate features.
“Got what?” She mummers back.
Under any other circumstance, I would reply “I got you,” and kiss her, however I drop my arm and step back. “Just a smudge, it’s gone now.” The spark that was flaring to life between us moments ago, fizzles away. This is one type of fire I’m not trained to deal with, and I’m starting to get the feeling I might get burnt.
*****
I wake up from the most restful day’s sleep I’ve had in ages. I’m unsure if I was just exhausted from all the strenuous exercise this morning, or if Roxi is causing this new sense of peace to wash over me. What I do know is I’m thinking of my new friend way more than I should. I don’t think about other friends like this.
My mind wonders to what I’m going to make for dinner tonight at the station. Most of the guys eat at work when it’s my turn in the kitchen, because I’m one of the only crew members who can actually cook. I had to learn from a young age. I never got the chance to move on from my mum’s homemade meals to a girlfriend’s dishes, like a lot of guys I know. If the team had it their way, I’d be the chef every night. Too bad for them, I’m there to save lives, not their stomachs.
The microwave dings in the kitchen, and it looks like Jake is eating two meals yet again. Since he’ll probably be ready soon, I get up for a shower and get ready for work.
I’m not surprised to see all of the eight other guys sitting around the table when we get there. As usual, they give me shit about the apron I insist on wearing. “Cute apron, I really think it matches your eyes.” Dex bats his eyelashes at me, no doubt thinking he’s absolutely hilarious. “What’s cookin’, good lookin’?”
“Shut-the-fuck-up pie.” A few of the others give their best shot at riling me up too, but they still have no problem eating every last bite of the food I prepare for them. I chuckle to myself as I speculate if they liked the extra spit flavour I put in, just for them.
We’re sitting down around the table later, playing cards and shooting the shit, when Jake reminds me of plans we made for the weekend. “Lukey boy and I are hitting the town Saturday night, if you fellas want to come. He’s getting a bit cranky lately, if you know what I mean.” He raises his eyebrows suggestively and makes a jacking off g
esture, getting a few laughs. I on the other hand, don’t find me having to service myself so funny.
“I’m only moody ’cause I have to listen to you and your latest conquest, constantly screaming down the hall. I’d get more sleep here, even with the regular alarms waking me.” Only that comes out short-tempered and jealous, not exactly giving strength to my argument. Which I guess I kind of am, but I’m grumpier at the fact I might miss a chance at an early morning run with Roxi, if I’m out on the town all night. Since when do I want to go jogging with a friend more than going out to get lucky? This thought makes me even more irritable. I guess I really do need to go out and get over the strange fascination I have with this new friend I hardly know. However, I’m still more excited over the prospect of running with her tomorrow, than partying with the guys on Saturday night.
Jake sits up straighter in his chair. “I can’t help it if I please the ladies. I’ve tried asking them to keep it down before, but when it comes to me, they just can’t help themselves.”
He’s too much sometimes. I don’t think he’ll ever grow up. I’m not denying I’m not a horn dog, right along with him. My thoughts can be pretty obnoxious too. Nevertheless, I never speak disrespectfully about the women I’m with.
A shrink I went to for a while after my family’s deaths, told me I most likely act this way, as a coping mechanism. I distance myself from emotion and getting close to anybody, because I don’t want to replace the family I lost. The family I killed. I don’t think I deserve to. She’s probably right. I’ll do whatever it takes to stop craving the love and affection I’m not entitled to have in my life.
Dex, Toby, and the newest recruit, Jy, all say they’re in and we agree to meet up at Dollie’s at ten p.m. Hopefully, I can find a hook up quickly, so I won’t have to endure the place long. As long as I can keep my mind off Roxi that is, because even though I know I shouldn’t be, I can’t seem to concentrate on anything else.
Not much of consequence happens through the night. Mrs Jones, an elderly woman in the Lockwood Retirement Village, causes her alarm to go off at around 2:00 a.m. She decided to put on a piece of toast and forgot about it. There’s no risk of fire, but the bread went black before it popped, and the small amount of smoke set the process of us going there in motion.