Inherited: Baby

by Nicola Marsh

  ‘Hi Mum, it’s me.’ She poked her head around the door, stunned by the sight that greeted her.

  ‘Come in, my darling girl.’

  The OT hadn’t been wrong when she’d said her mum was having a good day. Apart from the fact she’d actually recognised Maya for the first time in months, she sat on a small sofa near the window, dressed in a carnation-pink leisure suit with her face made up and faded blonde hair arranged in a loose bun on top of her head. She looked lovely and exactly how Maya remembered her on her few ‘good’ days growing up.

  ‘You look great, Mum.’

  Maya smiled, crossed the room and planted a kiss on her mum’s lined cheek, the skin way too thin and papery for a woman in her late forties, alcohol having drained more than her mum’s brain cells.

  ‘Thanks, sweetheart. How are you?’

  ‘Fine.’

  Okay, so that was stretching the truth. She hadn’t slept a wink last night after Riley’s impromptu visit and, with the growing ache in the vicinity of her heart, she doubted she’d get much sleep for the next year.

  ‘You look tired. Here, come sit next to me.’

  Her mum patted the cushion next to her and Maya sat, knowing she must look a fright if her mum had picked up on how exhausted she was.

  ‘Do you know what I’ve been doing today?’

  Maya stared at her mum, blue eyes bright, an animated look on her face. She stifled the edge of bitterness that came with the wish that her mum could be like this all the time. She had to shrug off her depression, be grateful for small mercies, and if today was a good day for her mum, she needed to make the most of it.

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘Writing my memoirs!’

  Her mum reached for a tiny green and purple spotted notebook tucked into the sofa and caressed the cover lovingly as if she’d written the next New York Times bestseller.

  ‘Wow, that’s great,’Maya said, though a shiver of apprehension skittered down her spine.

  Maybe it wasn’t such a great idea that her mum spent her time reminiscing about the past considering the pain she must have been in to have had to drown her sorrows most days.

  ‘It’s part of our memory training. That lovely occupational therapist said it would stimulate our brains.’

  ‘Sounds interesting.’

  Maya kept her answers brief and non-committal, expecting her mum to revert to her usual taciturn self any second. Besides, even if her mum wanted to delve into the past, she certainly didn’t. She may be a lot of things but a glutton for punishment wasn’t one of them.

  ‘I lied to you about your father.’

  Maya stiffened and glanced at her mum’s face, wondering if this was the start of her wanderings. However, her mum’s eyes hadn’t lost the spark of intelligence that signalled lucidity and Maya held her breath, wondering what deep, dark secret would be revealed. She’d harassed her mum for so long when she was growing up, pestering her about who her father was, why he wasn’t around, did he love her, why had he left them.

  Her mum had ignored her at first, before finally giving her a few snippets which Maya had taken and wound into a brilliant fairy tale. She’d envisaged her father as some sort of heroic nomad, travelling the world working with poor children who needed him more than she did. This was the only reason that made sense, which gave her some comfort at being abandoned, before she had hit her teens and blamed her mother for everything.

  She’d once accused her mum of driving her father away with her drinking. Maya had hated her for it. Her mum hadn’t cared at the time. She’d coped by going on one of her worst blinders on record, succeeding in wiping herself out for twenty-four hours straight.

  Just another day in the Edison household.

  ‘We don’t have to talk about this,’Maya said, sending the little polka-dot book the evil eye.

  ‘Yes, we do, my girl.’

  To her surprise, her mum reached out and took hold of her hand, the first time she’d instigated physical contact in years.

  ‘Your father wasn’t a philanthropist or a do-gooder or a man who spent his life helping others. He was a bum, a drifter who couldn’t commit to anything, who couldn’t last at a job more than a few months. He gambled, he smoked, he played around on me and he drank. A lot.’

  Her mum’s steady gaze flickered and she glanced away but not before Maya saw the agonising pain.

  ‘He was the one who started me drinking. It was the only thing we had in common towards the end and I joined in, hoping he’d love me, love us…’

  ‘Mum, don’t.’

  Maya squeezed her mum’s hand, hating her devastated expression. So her father hadn’t been the super-hero she’d built him up to be in her imagination? So what? She was a big girl now and she’d given up believing in fairy tales a long time ago.

  ‘I have to tell you. You’ll understand why in the end.’ Her mum took a deep breath, blinked rapidly several times and continued. ‘You were such a good little girl, the perfect daughter, always looking after me. He left when you were three years old after I kicked him out for belting you one day. You’d knocked over his beer can and he lashed out, going ballistic, and I knew in that second that I’d made a horrible mistake in staying with him.’ Tears filled her eyes and trickled down her cheeks. ‘I put up with a lot but the minute he laid a finger on you, I could’ve killed him. So I kicked him out before I did anything that drastic.’

  ‘My God,’Maya murmured, more traumatised by how rough her mum had had it than by any memories. ‘Then why did you build him up to be some kind of hero?’

  Her mum swiped at her tears, her eyes clearer than ever. ‘Because you needed him to be. Because I was such a failure as a mother, because I took the easy way out and drowned my sorrows rather than facing up to the mess I’d made of both our lives, because I wanted you to think that I wasn’t always such a loser, that a prince-like man could go for a pathetic woman like me. But, most of all, to give you the self-esteem that I never had, the self-esteem which would stop you from making the wrong choice like I did.’

  Maya’s heartbeat sped up and she broke into a cold sweat. It couldn’t be genetic, surely? She’d blamed her own lack of self-esteem for taking up with Joe in the first place and believing his smooth lies. And her mum had tried to avoid this very situation by telling her a bunch of lies about her loser dad? How ironic.

  ‘You did the best you could, Mum. You tried to protect me and that’s what counts. As for the rest, alcoholism is a disease and you’ve come so far. Why are you telling me this now?’

  Her mum looked uncomfortable for the first time since she’d arrived. ‘Because I made a mess of my life and I don’t want you to do the same.’

  Maya frowned, having no idea where this was going. A big part of her was thrilled that she was actually having a long lucid conversation with her mum, the kind of conversation she wished she could’ve had over the last few months following Joe’s death and the ensuing dramas with Riley.

  ‘I’m fine, Mum.’

  ‘I saw your picture in a magazine, kissing a man,’her mum blurted out, releasing Maya’s hand and fiddling with the ring binding on her notebook.

  ‘That was nothing,’ Maya said quickly, hoping she didn’t blush. The memory of that scorching impulsive kiss with Riley had been replayed numerous times, usually in the wee small hours of the mornings when she lay awake, sad, lonely, wishing things were different.

  Her mum chuckled. ‘If that was nothing, wish I’d had more of it in my day. Is he special? He must be for you to go around kissing him so soon after the other one died.’

  Maya smiled at her mum’s derogatory reference to Joe. She’d introduced them on another of her mum’s good days and Jill had hated Joe on sight, visibly recoiling from him at one stage. The feeling had been entirely mutual.

  ‘He’s a friend, nothing more.’

  Though that was a lie. After Riley had left last night, she doubted he’d ever come knocking again in a friendly capacity or otherwise. It was the
‘otherwise’ that kept her up at nights, fantasising about how good it could be if he was anyone but Joe’s brother.

  ‘The article said he was the other one’s brother.’

  Great. Her mum had just about echoed her thoughts.

  ‘Yes, Riley is Joe’s brother.’

  ‘And?’

  Maya sighed, choosing her words carefully. She didn’t want to talk about her feelings for Riley and the uselessness of her situation and she sure didn’t need her mum dishing out agony aunt advice.

  ‘Riley has helped me out a fair bit. He’s a good man.’

  Her mum nodded, apparently satisfied. ‘Thought so. Handsome devil too by that photo. If I’d had a man like him, I would’ve hung on to him for grim death. Instead, I botched things up by choosing a loser and, rather than moving on afterwards, I wasted my life regretting it every day. A stupid, pointless waste of time when I could’ve found a better man and had a better life for myself and for you. You were practically a baby when your father left and I could’ve found a good man, given you a proper family of your own.’

  Her mum suddenly sat bolt upright, stuffed the notebook back between the cushions and grabbed both of Maya’s hands, gripping tightly. ‘That is why I told you about your father. The other one reminded me of him the minute I laid eyes on him. Scum of the earth, his type, despite the fancy clothes and crocodile smile and false charms. You could’ve done so much better but what could I say? Why would you have listened to me? But I can say this now: if there is anything behind that kiss, any feeling at all, you hang on to this man. Good ones like him don’t come along every day and you deserve the best, my darling girl. Something I could never give you.’

  ‘Oh, Mum.’ Maya fell into her mother’s arms, hugging her like she’d never hugged her before.

  In fact they’d rarely touched at all their entire lives, both women flinching away from human contact.

  Her mum pulled away first, gently wiping the dampness from Maya’s cheeks. ‘You know what’s in your heart, darling. Follow it. Do the right thing.’

  ‘I can’t,’ Maya whispered, while a tiny spark of hope flared to life deep in her soul, whispering back, But what if you can?

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  RILEY SIPPED AT his Scotch and grimaced, hating the kick-in-your-gut taste but needing something strong to fortify his nerves for the confrontation with Maya.

  For that was what it was—a confrontation, not a meeting. Her tone during their brief phone call had made that more than clear.

  It had been three days since his ownership proposal, three long days where he’d finalised countless business deals, tidied up the odd loose end at the office via phone and the Net and visited a travel agent where he’d picked up a stack of brochures. The stupid thing was, he’d only flicked through a few, his mind constantly drawn to Maya.

  The Greek islands looked good, but then he’d think of her and Chas beside him frolicking in the too-blue Mediterranean.

  Ireland looked good, but then he’d imagine them all touring the Emerald Isle, strolling through the lush countryside during the day and sleeping in quaint little B&Bs at night.

  Mauritius, the Maldives, Tahiti—they all looked great for a little time out and then he’d remember Maya’s infectious laugh or Chas’s cheeky grin and he knew that Melbourne held the greatest appeal by far.

  ‘Hi there.’

  Deep in thought, he hadn’t heard Maya sneak up on him and he accidentally sloshed Scotch over his trousers at the sound of her voice.

  ‘Hi.’

  There he went again, slaying her with scintillating conversation. Just once he’d like to have one tenth of Joe’s skill with the ladies. His brother might’ve had many faults but he could charm the tea cosy off a teapot.

  Maya frowned as her gaze strayed from his half empty glass to the spreading stain on his leg and he crossed his legs to hide it while quickly placing the remains of his drink on the small glass table in front of him.

  ‘Thanks for meeting me,’ she said, sliding into the chair opposite while he tried not to stare.

  For starters, she wore soft beige hipster trousers with a figure-hugging chocolate-brown sleeveless polo, a sassy outfit in total contrast with her usual casual attire.

  And, for a woman who never wore make-up, she’d done something to her eyes, making them appear wider and sparkling while a faint pink stained her cheeks and her mouth glistened with some sort of gloss.

  Whatever, he needed to focus on the words coming out of that sexy mouth and not his urge to plant his lips firmly on it.

  ‘No problem. After the other night, I didn’t think you’d want to see me for a while. A long while.’

  He opted for honesty, something he’d always been able to do with her. Except for the bit about how much he wanted to be included in the family package he envisaged for Chas, that was.

  She shook her head, tousled blonde curls cascading around her face, making him itch to reach out and twist one around his finger, the way she’d unintentionally twisted him around hers.

  ‘You blew me away with that ownership business, that’s for sure. But, like I said, I know you mean well. In fact, I think you’ve always had our best interests at heart, mine and Chas’s. You’re that kind of guy. Special.’

  ‘Too right,’ he said, a warm glow spreading through him at her praise. If only she meant ‘special’ in the way he hoped.

  ‘That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about.’

  Her genuine smile lifted his spirits higher than they’d been in days and he wondered how he’d survive without seeing her on a daily basis, spending quality time with her and the little guy.

  ‘Sounds intriguing, but how about a drink first?’

  And just like that, her smile faded—fast. ‘Sure, I’ll have the usual,’ she said, her lips compressing in that awful line that aged her ten years.

  He’d noticed that she never touched alcohol and had attributed her aversion to the way Joe had died. Yet maybe a shot of brandy or something similar would make this conversation easier for her?

  ‘Sure you won’t have something stronger than a lime and soda?’

  ‘No.’ Short, sharp, cold.

  ‘Okay.’ He placed her order quickly and took another fortifying sip of his own drink, trying not to pull a face as the liquid burned a trail down his throat. ‘Go ahead, I’m all ears.’

  Her eyes narrowed and she waited till he’d placed his drink down, as if assessing him. For what he wasn’t sure but the speculative gleam in her eyes made him uncomfortable.

  ‘I visited my mum yesterday.’

  ‘What?’

  He jolted forward, momentarily wondering if the few sips he’d had on an empty stomach had affected his faculties. He was sure Maya had just said she had a mother when he’d assumed she was dead from one of their early discussions.

  ‘You didn’t know she’s alive?’

  ‘No. From what you’ve said before, I thought you had no family.’

  Something in her eyes shifted. Guilt? Pain? ‘In a way, I guess I’ve felt that way for a long time.’

  She sipped at the lime and soda that had just been placed in front of her, tracing circles in the condensation on the glass and concentrating on the task as if she were trying to solve a physics equation.

  ‘Where is she?’

  He asked the question to bring her back to the present rather than any great need to know the answer. There was obviously a story behind her reticence and he wouldn’t push her. He’d tried that with the ownership papers and look how that had turned out.

  Maya slowly raised her eyes to meet his, glistening green clashing with confused blue. ‘Mum’s in a special accommodation home. She’s been there for the last three years after it got too much for me to look after her.’

  ‘Is she sick?’

  She nodded, pain flickering in the green depths again. ‘Yes. She’s an alcoholic.’

  Riley had been expecting any number of diseases like cancer or Parkinson’s or M
ultiple Sclerosis but the minute she told him several things fell into place at once—her aversion to drinking and her emotional shutdown after Joe’s death. Considering his brother’s death had been caused by a lethal combination of too much alcohol and speed, it must’ve torn her apart taking into account what she’d just told him.

  ‘She’s recovering?’

  ‘Uh-huh. She’s been sober since she went into the home. It’s part of their rules. Though in a way, she doesn’t have much choice. I pay the bills, she doesn’t have spare cash to buy alcohol with and even if she did, her mind wanders most days.’

  Maya’s bottom lip quivered ever so slightly and he knew things must be a lot worse than she was telling him.

  ‘I’m sorry. It must be tough on both of you.’

  ‘You don’t know the half of it,’ she murmured, taking several gulps of her drink and blinking rapidly. ‘I had a pretty hard childhood which is why I’m so protective of Chas.’

  She sighed heavily and leaned back as if she’d said something profound when in fact she hadn’t told him much more than he knew already. He’d always thought she was overprotective of the little guy but had put it down to the rough time she’d had with Joe rather than her own childhood.

  ‘He’s your child. You have every right to protect him.’

  Maya didn’t speak, staring into her almost empty glass, swirling the lime wedge with her straw in slow, lazy circles.

  ‘Is that what you wanted to talk to me about? To explain your reasoning behind refusing the apartment?’

  Silence. An awkward growing silence which had him shuffling in his seat and wondering what the hell was going on.

  He polished off the rest of his drink and all but slammed the glass on the table, anything to get her attention, to get her to say something.

  Finally she raised stricken eyes to his and said in a soft voice he barely heard, ‘I just wanted you to understand.’

  ‘Understand what?’

  ‘Everything,’she said, sitting bolt upright and sliding her glass on to the table. ‘But I can’t do this here. I need some air. Walk with me?’