Cross My Heart

by Pamela Cook

  ‘Is it, now?’ Her mother plonked a plate on the table beside Tess and an opened beer on the coaster. She turned to Josh with a saccharine smile. ‘Watch the plate, love, it’s hot.’

  Tess bit into a forkful of gnocchi, the metal grinding against her teeth. Her mother’s eternal fussing was almost sycophantic. Why was she the only one it seemed to bother? The conversation rolled on, with a backing track from Andrea Bocelli until Ethan pitched his rattle across the table and it landed right in the middle of Tess’s plate, sending a splash of tomato sauce down the front of her white shirt.

  Great. The evening was getting better by the minute.

  Muffled laughter erupted around the table. Tess grabbed a serviette and dabbed at the stain. Nothing better than being the butt of everybody else’s joke.

  ‘That’s a first-grade bowler’s arm, right there.’ Rob beamed.

  ‘Sorry, Tess.’ Ally, at least, looked vaguely embarrassed.

  Tess wiped the rattle and, resisting the temptation to aim it at her brother’s head, passed it back to the baby. Ethan squealed and a bubble of warmth expanded inside her chest. He really was the cutest little thing and she never bothered paying him much attention.

  ‘He must keep you on your toes.’ Awe, and maybe a hint of fear, permeated Josh’s contribution to the conversation.

  ‘That’s an understatement. But parenthood is the best thing that’s happened to me.’ Rob winked at his father. ‘Apart from marrying my beautiful wife, of course.’ He put an arm around Ally and gave her a hug.

  Ally elbowed him in the side, but the corners of her mouth lifted in a coy smile. Despite their ten-year age difference, they were a very well-suited couple.

  Rob chugged on his Corona and banged it on the table. He’d clearly been here well before dinner and downed a few birthday bevvies. ‘Speaking of which, are you two all set for your starring roles?’

  ‘Starring roles?’ Josh looked at her, equally puzzled.

  ‘Sunday fortnight.’ Her mother piped up, positively bursting. ‘I’m sure they’re both looking forward to it. Make sure you’re not late, though, Tessa. Father Rafferty likes everyone to be on time.’

  Oh shit! The christening. Grace would have been home with them for just over a week by then. Would it be a good idea to take her to such a huge family gathering so soon? Probably not, but she could hardly announce that now, even if they had been railroaded into being godparents. There was your first mistake, Josh had said this morning in reference to her saying yes to the same request from Skye. In this case he was actually right. The whole thing was a farce. ‘I don’t really get why you’re having him christened, to be honest. It’s not like either of you is religious.’

  ‘I really don’t know why you’d say that, Tessa. You were all christened and it’s never hurt any of you.’ Her mother had her scolding voice well primed. No doubt she’d had a hand in organising the whole shebang.

  ‘No, but, well … we are both Catholic, and it’s just something we want to do.’ Ally looked as if she was about to start crying.

  Oh Lord, please let it end. ‘I never said it hurt anyone.’

  ‘Anyway … Since we are having him dunked, thanks again for agreeing.’ Rob de-escalated things before they could get any worse. ‘I know kids aren’t really your thing, so it means a lot.’

  ‘Our pleasure, mate.’ Josh raised his hand and the two of them clinked bottles across the table. ‘It’s an honour to be asked.’

  ‘And I’m sure kids are their thing.’ Her mother lifted her fingers into air quotes. ‘They just haven’t gotten around to it yet. Being godparents will be good practice for when you have your own.’

  Josh was a straight-out liar, and as for her mother, if only she knew it was him providing the roadblock to her additions to Nonna’s Brag Book, she might not treat him like God’s gift to the De Santis family. Josh dropped his gaze to his meal and began eating with gusto. No help there. Tess let her knife and fork clatter onto the centre of her plate.

  ‘You can’t put it off forever, darling.’

  ‘And you can’t help yourself, can you, Mum? Maybe you should just mind your own business for once.’ Even as the words fell from her mouth, she wanted to suck them right back in, rewind the conversation to the usual inane topics, but it was already too late.

  Her mother lifted a hand to her chest, her eyes wide as the room held its breath.

  ‘Now, Tessie …’ Her father jumped in.

  ‘You must be exhausted, Tess.’ Ally rushed in, playing peacekeeper. Confrontation had never been her forte. ‘I don’t know how you stay on your feet half the time with the hours you do.’

  ‘Probably a little jet-lagged, aren’t you, love?’ Her father smiled softly, the warning tone now gone from his voice.

  ‘Yeah, I am actually.’ Under the table, Josh put a hand on her knee and squeezed. A reminder to count to ten. Or twenty. More likely a thousand the way things were going. Her dad had provided the perfect excuse for her appalling behaviour. She raised what she could of a thankful smile in both their directions and shot a more apologetic one at her mother. ‘Sorry, Mum.’

  Knives and forks scraped again as life returned almost to normal. Josh sipped quietly at his drink. Ally wiped Ethan’s cheek with her napkin and tickled him under the chin, releasing a burst of giggles. The small amount of food Tess had managed to keep down sat like a boulder in the pit of her stomach.

  ‘You do look pale, though, darling. Are you sure it’s just from the flight?’

  ‘It’s been a tough day.’ Finally Josh was speaking up, saving her from wreaking any more havoc. ‘Coming home to the bad news about Skye.’

  A wave of heat rolled beneath Tess’s skin. She locked her hands in her lap. Physical violence in front of her whole family would not go down well.

  ‘Skye Sullivan who you went to school with?’ Her mother, not surprisingly, was first to respond.

  Josh turned, waiting for her answer, and realisation rippled across his face. ‘Oh, sorry.’

  ‘Yes, Mum.’ Tess looked up. ‘That Skye.’ Her mother had never known about Skye’s decision to change her name after her grandmother’s death. ‘She died.’

  ‘Oh. What happened?’

  ‘I’m not sure.’

  ‘That’s awful, love.’ Her dad sounded genuinely concerned.

  Rob narrowed his eyes. ‘Didn’t she have a kid?’

  ‘Grace. She’s ten.’ If she spoke in short syllables, kept it factual, she might just manage to keep it together.

  ‘Yes, she was a single mother.’ Never one to miss an opportunity for moral judgement, her mother shook her head. ‘Poor little mite. What’s going to happen to her now?’

  Josh was busy finishing off his lasagne. It would serve him right if Tess dumped him in it, announced his new status as a father here and now, made him deal with it in front of her whole family. But then she’d be dealing with it, too.

  ‘She’s, um, been made a ward of the state. They’ll find a foster home for her.’ Please let Ethan start projectile vomiting, let his head spin and his screams be ear-splitting, anything to make this conversation end.

  ‘Wasn’t there another relative?’ Her mother squinted. ‘Surely they could take her.’

  A shrill ringing started up in Tess’s ears. She shook her head, simultaneously willing it away and answering the question.

  ‘She was a bit weird, wasn’t she?’ Rob picked at the crack between his two front teeth, removing a piece of parsley and wiping it on his napkin. ‘Into all that new-age crap.’

  ‘For fuck’s sake, Rob, just because someone doesn’t fit your idea of normal does not mean they’re weird.’ Tess shoved back her chair, picked up her plate and made a beeline for the kitchen. Scraping her leftovers into the bin, she turned on the tap too hard and sent a shower of water spraying across the parquetry floor.

  ‘Why don’t we have the cake in the lounge room?’ Her mother’s voice was an octave higher than usual as she circled the table collecting the d
ishes. ‘You all head in and we’ll be there in a tick.’

  Tess leaned against the sink, eyes closed, waiting for the knot in her chest to loosen. Even with the jet-lag excuse, her reaction had been uncalled for, bordering on hysterical. She was usually better at keeping things under control.

  ‘I’m sorry to hear about Skye.’ Her mother mopped at the floor with a tea towel, sounding mildly sympathetic.

  ‘You never liked her, anyway.’

  ‘That’s not true, Tessa. I had no problem with her when she was younger, but she did go a little off the rails when she left school.’

  ‘I think wayward was the adjective you most frequently used to describe her.’ She took the soaking cloth from her mum, wringing it out in the sink until her fingers hurt.

  ‘Well she was, Tessa. Even you have to admit that. Out at all hours of the night, worrying her poor grandmother out of her wits. Is it any wonder I didn’t want you hanging around with her?’

  They were both upright now, her mother shuffling dirty plates into the dishwasher, Tess stationary against the bench. She should muster the energy to help, but her legs refused to move. Skye had been the scapegoat for her ‘going off the rails’ as a teenager, for her ‘wild’ behaviour, the tattoo, and the Goth phase her mother had so detested. It was a mutually convenient rationale that Tess had never bothered to challenge. ‘It was all a long time ago.’

  ‘Yes, it was. And I am sorry to hear she’s died. She didn’t have an easy life. And that poor child of hers.’

  Children were her mother’s Achilles’ heel; her concern for Grace was genuine. Maybe confessing her decision to her mum would be good practice for telling Josh. She peered back over her shoulder into the lounge room. Josh seemed to be occupied, deep in conversation with Rob. Now was as good a time as any. She took a deep breath. ‘I never told you this, Mum, but I’m Grace’s guardian.’

  Her mother, retrieving dessert bowls from the cupboard, literally froze mid-movement. ‘Do you mean guardian as in legal guardian?’

  Tess nodded.

  ‘No, you didn’t ever tell me that.’ She placed the bowls down without looking up.

  ‘We were going through one of our no-speaking stages at the time. I never really thought it would matter that much, but now …’

  Her mother took the cake from the fridge and placed it on the island in the centre of the kitchen. You could almost hear the wheels clanking inside her skull. ‘So, what does that mean exactly?’

  ‘A letter came from Family and Community Services. It’s up to me—well us,’ she motioned towards the lounge room to include Josh, ‘to decide whether or not we want to foster her.’

  ‘And what does Josh think?’

  ‘He pretty much dismissed it without a discussion.’ This morning’s conversation, the letter, all of it was still surprisingly raw. She folded her arms across her chest.

  Her mother placed the birthday cake on an engraved silver tray and positioned gold candles around the circumference, her frown lines deepening by the second. This could go either way, but it was better to give her mum time to think it through before jumping back in.

  ‘Taking on someone else’s child is a huge decision, Tessa, especially a child of her age. And it’s not like you and Skye were that close anymore.’

  ‘This is a little girl we’re talking about, a little girl I agreed to look after if anything happened to Skye.’ She shook her head. Why had she expected her mother to understand? How could she? ‘Anyway, you’re always saying you want me to have kids.’

  Her mother walked across the kitchen and picked up a box of tissues. She sat down on a stool, patted the one beside it and waited.

  Snatches of conversation filtered through from the lounge room punctuated with an occasional baby squeal. This was her father’s birthday celebration and she shouldn’t be making it about her own problem. She was being selfish. Petulant. Acting like the spoilt child she’d been once. Her mother seemed to be waving a white flag. It would be foolish not to offer one of her own.

  ‘I went to see Grace’s caseworker today.’ She sucked in a short breath as she sat on the proffered stool. ‘There’s a possibility that Skye killed herself.’

  ‘Oh no.’ Her mother’s hand came to rest on top of her own.

  The touch bolstered her courage. ‘I told them I’m willing to go ahead and foster Grace.’

  ‘But I thought you said Josh was against the idea?’

  Tess met her mother’s gaze. ‘He is.’

  A look towards the other room, an unexpected gleam in her mother’s watery eyes. ‘Well, sometimes things happen for a reason. It’s not the ideal way to start a family, but I’m sure Josh will come around. And who knows? It might be the push you both need to start a family of your own.’

  A raucous squeal rang out with almost perfect timing.

  Grabbing the cake in one hand, her mother stood and handed across a stack of dessert plates. ‘Come on, let’s get the birthday boy to blow out his candles.’

  And that was that. Her mother breezed out of the kitchen, leaving Tess alone and floundering. Had she really just suggested that fostering Grace could be a good idea? And then used it as ammunition for her baby campaign?

  Tess made her way to the lounge room, moulding her expression into party mode and mouthing the words of ‘Happy Birthday’. As her father blew out the candles, a starry-eyed Ethan nestled on his lap, she looked around for Josh. He was huddled in the corner at the far end of the room, a hand over one ear, an intense expression of concentration on his face as he spoke into his phone. Work, no doubt. It was always work. There was barely room in his life for her, let alone a child. Would he really agree to take on someone else’s daughter? Someone else’s possibly disturbed ten-year-old daughter?

  Hip hip hooray.

  Hip hip hooray.

  Hip.

  Hip.

  Hooray.

  There was only one way to find out.

  Four

  The drive home was painfully silent. Josh pulled into the underground carpark and they stepped into the steel tomb of the elevator, Tess watching the neon numbers increase as they stood on separate sides of the lift. She’d been the classic ice queen ever since they left her parents’ house. It was their tried-and-tested method of dealing with an issue. Usually she was the first one to thaw; there was no way that was happening tonight.

  ‘I’m sorry I let slip about Skye.’

  He must really be feeling guilty to back down so soon, but if he thought that a simple apology was going to cut it he could think again. ‘I did ask you not to say anything.’

  ‘I just said I’m sorry, didn’t I?’

  The doors slid open. She pushed past him and strode along the landing to their apartment. This was not a conversation she wanted to have in a public space. Inside, she headed for the kitchen while Josh gravitated towards the lounge, their respective corners separated by the island bench. Bizarrely, it struck her how good he looked in a suit, the same thing she’d thought when she’d first met him—the sharp, straight lines of his shoulders, the long, muscular stretch of his legs. Even at eleven pm he was scrubbed and polished, his honey-brown hair perfectly coiffed, only the light shadow on his jawline giving away that it was over twelve hours since he’d dressed for work. This morning’s conversation was long forgotten if tonight’s dinner fiasco was anything to go by, yet for her it had been silently simmering all day. He’d been so sure she’d agree with him, and at the time she’d almost convinced herself she did. Then she’d stepped inside that office and everything had changed.

  ‘I spoke to Grace’s caseworker today.’ It came out so casually, like she’d had a lovely chat with an old work mate in the middle of the street. She grabbed a glass and filled it from the chiller in the fridge door, let the rattle and clunk of the ice machine fill in the gap left by her opening statement.

  ‘And?’ He peeled off his jacket and laid it over the back of the lounge, then began undoing the buttons on his shirt.

 
Tess took a mouthful of water. There was so much riding on this conversation, she had to get it right. But which piece of information should she lead with? Starting at the beginning, the reason this was even happening, made the most sense. ‘Skye …’ Another sip. ‘She killed herself.’

  ‘Shit.’ Josh pushed his hands into his pockets. ‘How?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ She should have asked for more information, or called back later, but it had been so much easier to hide behind her workload. It still didn’t seem real, except the visible tremor running through her limbs was proof this was more than a bad dream.

  Josh took a tentative step forward and ran a hand roughly across his chin. ‘What about the kid?’

  ‘Grace.’ Blood pounded in her ears. She placed her glass very carefully on the bench as she waited for the noise to recede. ‘Her name is Grace. She’s been temporarily declared a ward of the state.’

  He nodded. As if that fact was actually okay. ‘Must be tough for her.’

  Tough. Like losing a teddy bear or scraping a knee. Was he actually fucking serious? ‘Yes, I’m sure it is. That’s why I told them we’d foster her.’

  His eyes rounded, then narrowed again. ‘You did what?’

  ‘I made a promise. I’m going to honour it.’

  ‘Except it’s not just you, is it? There are two of us here, last time I looked. You know how I feel about this, Tessa, we discussed it this morning.’ A tiny ball of spit rested on his bottom lip as he came closer, hands perched on the back of his hips.

  ‘No. You made a decision.’ If he wanted a shouting match she was happy to oblige. ‘Without knowing the full story. Without even asking how I felt.’

  ‘I didn’t need to know the story. We decided years ago we wouldn’t be having kids.’

  ‘Again, you decided.’

  ‘And you agreed.’

  She glared right at him. Let him see the challenge in her eyes. Let him work it out for himself.

  He turned away, his shoulders heaving as he paced across the room and then rounded on her. ‘Are you telling me you lied? That all this time you really did want kids?’ His voice was deathly quiet now, his cheeks a giveaway shade of crimson.