by Jane Lark
“How is she?” Ester asked.
“Not good, I guess. Shall I help you with the coffee?”
She nodded and like old times, I followed her into the kitchen to talk. “Rachel seemed really down, and yesterday she was really up.”
“Saint was crying,” Ester said. “I have been telling Rachel all day, it is just how babies are, but the poor girl takes everything so personally when she hits a low, and then of course there is this thing with the father. He refuses to do a DNA test, and they need to prove he is the father before they can get him to sign any papers to allow Jason to adopt Saint.”
I hadn’t known any of that. I knew he wasn’t Jason’s. I just hadn’t known it was complicated, or that Jason was trying to adopt Saint. But I should have known he’d do something like that, that was Jason all over. He was the saint-like one. Maybe that was why Rachel had picked the name.
An odd part of me was proud of Jason.
Ester turned with a mug in each hand. “And how are you, dear? We haven’t spoken to you for so long, and it is such dreadful news about Miriam. If we can do anything…”
I took the mugs from her, leaving her to bring the others as déjà vu tumbled through my head. I’d done this numerous times when Jason and I were together.
When I walked into the living room, though, it was Billy sitting on their couch. His big, muscular body making his presence known. I didn’t miss Jason, or the life I’d had with him anymore. I was happier and better with Billy.
When I sat down, I told Darren I’d work in the store again for as long as he needed me. He seemed pleased. Then Billy and Ester started planning the rota Mrs. Worrall and Ester would create, so Mom could have a visitor every afternoon.
This was all weird. Mom and I had been completely isolated and we needn’t have been.
A whimpering sound disturbed the conversation. I saw a row of red lights on a monitor on the side play up and down in time with the sound. The pitch got sharper and and the lights swung right to the end of the line when a full-on wail rang out. It was a call. Someone come get me!
“Saint. He’s due a feed,” Ester clarified.
I smiled as she got up.
“It will be the first time he’s been fed from a bottle, so let’s see how we get on…”
It would be a big deal for Saint not to have his mom feed him.
A couple of moments later Ester walked back into the room carrying the sweetest baby. He had dark hair, but it was just a cloud of fine, wispy strands like a halo around his head. His little cheeks burned red and warm as his sleepy eyes blinked at me.
He had a stripey baby-grow on and his chubby long legs dangled. He’d be tall, but then Rachel was tall.
“Do you want to hold him while I go warm his bottle?” Ester said to me. My gaze lifted from Saint to his grandma. Odd sensations twisted and tied a knot in my belly.
Want. Longing. But not jealousy.
“Yeah.” I lifted my hands and she came over and gave him to me. He weighed more than I expected.
I balanced him on my lap, my arm cradling him as Ester disappeared. He looked at me––the stranger––and grasped my hair. He was so cute.
Billy’s palm settled on my back and rubbed it.
I’d told him after I’d taken the overdose that I’d done it because I couldn’t stand seeing Jason with this kid. Billy probably thought this was hard for me. It wasn’t. Not at all. Not now. Nothing that had happened in my life was the fault of this tiny little human being.
I gripped his hand, getting him to free my hair and his fingers closed around my thumb instead. I looked at Billy “He’s sweet.”
When I’d been with Jason all I’d wanted was the two of us to settle down with a house and kids––I’d been desperately seeking “normal”. With Mom sick and me messed-up, I’d thought being a mom and wife would put everything right. It wouldn’t have.
I still craved those things, eventually, just not yet.
There would be a right time for me and a right person––I hoped the right person was Billy. I felt like it would be Billy.
Ester came back into the room, carrying the bottle.
“You can try feeding him if you want, Lindy.”
I wanted. I lifted my hand to take the bottle.
“Try leaning him back and then put the teat to his lips, and let’s hope he doesn’t think about the different feel when he starts sucking and gets the warm milk.”
I did. He fidgeted a lot, whining and pushing the teat out of his mouth, but I cooed and persisted as Billy watched and rubbed my shoulder.
Saint twisted toward me. It was like he was looking for a breast. I changed the angle of the bottle and ran it over his lips again, so milk leaked a little. Finally he opened his mouth, latched onto the teat and sucked, his little hand resting on my sweater over my breast.
It was awesome.
His eyes shut, and his tiny eyelashes rested on his cheeks.
Ester started singing a nursery rhyme and Darren whispered. “Rachel always sings to him when she’s feeding, it’ll make him a little more settled. I’m sure he knows you’re not his mom, but if we can keep things as normal as we can for him we will.”
Rachel had said she couldn’t do this, but it sounded to me like she was a pretty good mom, really.
When he’d drunk half the bottle, Ester told me to sit him up, and then she took him from me so she could wind him, walking around with him pressed to her shoulder as she rubbed his back. She gave him the rest of the milk.
“Rachel must be missing him.” I couldn’t imagine what it would be like to be separated from him if he was my son. My heart would ache so bad…
I thought of Mom, of how much it must be hurting her to leave Dad and me… But she was resigned to it, I knew that, because she was in too much pain now, she was ready to go. Dad was right. I really needed to help her go and feel comfortable and content to leave me. In the weeks she had left, I needed to find the person I was going to be when she had gone, and show her I would be okay. That was the best thing I could do for her.
Ester stood, with Saint held to her shoulder as she rubbed his back again. “We’ll make sure he goes in to see Rachel tomorrow. Hopefully she won’t be in there too long.”
I nodded.
“Jason said I should go visit her.”
“Oh, she would like that. She has kept beating herself up over hurting you.”
I nodded. The world seemed such a different place today. For years I’d been trapped by what was happening to Mom. Now I could see everyone had something going on in their lives. “Has Rachel made friends here?”
“Not really, the bipolar makes it difficult. She has us but––”
“Well, I’ll try and help her––”
“You have enough going on with your mom––”
“I know, but I could do with rebuilding friendships too, I’ve been hiding away because of Mom.”
“Well, we shall do what we can to help you and Miriam, Lindy. If you need anything you must call and I can make extra dinner for you to take home to feed you and Dwayne.”
“Thank you, I know Dad will appreciate it, and if I’m working at the store, I’ll want to spend my evenings at the hospital.”
“You can have some time out every afternoon too, Lindy, I can cope for a couple of hours on my own,” Darren added.
Déjà vu… How many times had I sat here listening to Jason’s parents offering to support me?
When Ester went to put Saint down to sleep, Billy and I left. We didn’t speak until we were back in the SUV. Then he said, “You okay?”
I looked at him. “I think so. I think I am better than I have been in a long time. I don’t feel jealous of Rachel. I am happy for her and Jason. Does that sound stupid when Rachel has just been admitted to the hospital?”
He smiled, his hand reaching over to grip my knee. “No. It’s good.”
“It’s thanks to you.”
“No, it’s just you learning to deal with it all.”
“Because you’ve helped me.”
“You’d have probably got there in the end anyway.” His hand came up and stroked through my hair before he turned away and started the engine.
I floated home like I was living in a dream, and I slept really well.
Chapter Twenty-two
Billy
When I woke, I had Lindy’s head pillowed on my chest. Her hair spread out tickling my skin as she breathed.
I lay still listening to her breathing, absorbing the weight of her small hand on my belly and her leg over my thigh, thinking about last night.
Shit her mom in the hospice, Rachel in the hospital… What was wrong with the stars?
Then I thought of Lindy holding Saint. She’d looked so natural feeding him. It had pulled a cord, excruciatingly tight, around my heart. I wanted kids with her one day––and a house, with a yard for our kids to play in.
But only when she loved me as much as I loved her.
I’d seen her look at me last night; when Jason had come to fetch Rachel. I’d watched her, watching them, and then she’d looked at me.
She’d looked at me in a different way, as I treaded on nails and eggshells, trying not to break anything, but let this be what it should be, and hoping the music that I heard playing between us would start playing in her head too.
She knew what I felt about her. I was just gonna keep saying it, and showing it, and hope the spell of it wrapped around her and made her feel the same.
I shut my eyes and a deep breath sucked into my lungs. The movement made her stir and start to wake.
Images of Mom’s and Eva’s angry, disbelieving faces hovered behind my closed eyelids. I needed to get them on my side. On mine and Lindy’s side. I’d have to take her ‘round there today.
She sat up a little, blinking sleep from her eyes. My fingers stroked through her hair.
“You okay?”
“Yeah.” She turned away to get up, though. “I’m gonna go call the hospice and check Mom had a good night, then I’ll call Jason and find out how Rachel is.”
“Okay, but let’s visit your mom later and I’d say it’s best we don’t crowd Rachel for a couple of days. Why don’t I call my mom and ask if we can go ‘round for lunch. Then we can tell her about this rota thing…” and make them fricking like you again.
She smiled and nodded. “Okay.”
After she stood, she slipped on her dressing gown, then left the room.
She had no idea my family hated her now and I wasn’t gonna tell her. She didn’t need to know.
When we walked in to my house, Mom, Dad and Eva stood in a row, like the bloody defense on a football pitch, about to charge.
My hand rested on Lindy’s shoulder, making it clear I was gonna protect her. I stared at them, saying without words––don’t cause any trouble, be nice.
Lindy’s arm surrounded my waist in return and she leaned into me.
Eva’s gaze dropped, looking at Lindy’s fingers as they pulled at my waist.
I hoped Eva saw things were different.
“Lindy.” Mom said stiffly, turning away. “Do you want to come help me dish up.”
Shit, if she was gonna interrogate Lindy I’d strangle her.
“Billy,” Dad said, “Let’s lay the table.” Frick this was an ambush, they’d planned to split us up for some reason. Eva smiled at me, confirming it, then disappeared into the kitchen, following Mom and Lindy.
“If Mom says anything mean to her…” I ground out as Dad turned and gave me the tablecloth.
“She won’t, she’s just––”
“Testing her. I know. It’s bullshit, Dad.” I flicked the cloth out over the table then grabbed the cutlery from his hand, trying to get this done as quickly as possible so I could get into the kitchen to help her.
Lindy
“It’s nice to see you, Lindy.”
Some sort of undercurrent flowed into the room, right along with the Mrs. Worrall’s words. I glanced at Eva. There was something in her eyes as she smiled.
Neither of them sounded like they were really happy I was here.
“Thank you, Mrs. Worrall.”
“How is Miriam?”
“Not well, but coping better now she’s in the hospice.”
“Here, would you tip the salad into this dish and toss it in the dressing while I get the plates out? Eva, can you put the lasagna on the table?”
An empty bowl and a large packet of salad leaves stood on the side. I pulled the packet open as Eva took the lasagna away.
“So Billy said you two are dating now…” Why did that sound like annoyance?
My forehead scrunched, at the cold and clinical pitch in her voice and I glanced at her, but she wasn’t looking at me. “Yeah.”
“And how long have you liked him for…?”
She was asking something else, not that, but she still didn’t look at me. I picked up the bottle of dressing and drizzled it over the lettuce. Eva came back in.
I swallowed, trying to work out the answer to whatever Mrs. Worrall was not asking… “I’m sure you heard we got closer before Christmas.” There were enough rumors. Heat brewed under my skin. “And Billy took me away a couple of months back. We have kind of been on and off since then, because of Mom being ill. But now we’re properly on. You don’t mind him staying over mine do you?”
I looked at Mrs. Worrall and saw Eva standing behind her glaring at me.
Didn’t she like me?
Mrs. Worrall faced me, a look of speculation and deep intensity in her eyes. Like she was trying to look inside me to see an answer to the question she hadn’t asked. She judged me badly.
Oh my God. They didn’t want him at my place, or me here. They didn’t like me. They didn’t want him dating me.
Billy came in and my heart leaped, flying out to grip a hold of him. Not literally, just metaphorically. Really Billy came to me, our gazes locking, and mine probably telling him how relieved and pleased I was he’d come in here.
His arm wrapped around my shoulders.
He knew.
He knew they didn’t like me.
“Mom,” he said in a deep pitch. It warned her to leave me alone.
What had I done to them to make them hate me?
Billy’s fingers squeezed me against him, like he knew I’d panicked. I turned to him, my arms wrapping about his waist and clinging as he talked over my head. “Have you heard about Rachel?”
“Yes, she’s in a hospital isn’t she?” Eva said.
“Yeah, she disappeared last night, Lindy and I found her down at the swings in the lower park. She’s been off her meds because she was feeding Saint and her bipolar has reared up. We saw Mr. and Mrs. Macinlay last night and told them what had happened.”
“Oh,” his mom said.
“Lindy and I are gonna go visit Rachel, tomorrow probably, after work, if Jason says she’s up to it. Lindy is going to go back to working in the store as well, until Rachel is better at least.”
“Oh.” The second, oh, of acknowledgement was different. Some thought had leaked into her pitch.
“Yeah,” Billy said in an odd tone, like it was meant to mean something.
Gaining courage and telling myself to stop being so stupid, I let him go and straightened up. “We talked to Ester last night about sorting out a visiting rota for Mom. Mom didn’t want visitors at home, she’s been too ill and too worried about what people think. She’s lost touch with everyone. But I’ve persuaded her to let people visit. She needs more company than Dad and I. We’ll bore her stupid if it’s us all the time, especially as the doctors think it will be weeks before…” I couldn’t say the word, die… “So it would be good if her old friends spend some time talking to her. She gets tired, so people would only need to pop in for half an hour. Ester has agreed and maybe you could help her set it up, if that would be okay?”
Sympathy touched Mrs. Worrall’s gaze now. Pity. Mom would hate it if she just turned up out of pity. “Of course, Lindy
. I’ll call Ester in the morning and we’ll sort something out, and maybe we can both go up and visit Miriam tomorrow while you’re working.”
“Thank you,” I nodded, and looked at Eva, who was still staring at me.
Did they not like Mom either? I wanted to ask… But how did you ask a question like that.
The conversation was stilted and awkward at times over dinner. But every time I felt uncertain, Billy caught a hold of my hand and squeezed it, and I glanced up at him and smiled a thank you. It didn’t really matter what his family thought. It only mattered what he thought.
Every time I looked at him a warm, mushy feeling tumbled around in my belly.
It really didn’t matter what anyone else thought about us being together. I was glad we were together.
Chapter Twenty-three
Lindy
Life was so strange. How could it settle into a pattern and feel normal when Mom was dying? But it did. It had.
Working back in the store gave me a new focus for my thoughts. I knew Mom was ill, but the hospice was safe, and she had friends again, who helped her. Every lunchtime I went there and did her hair, her makeup and her nails before she had a visitor so she felt good before they came in.
Billy and I visited early in the evening together and when Dad got there we left him and Mom alone. I know Dad mostly just sat and held her hand because by then she was really tired.
I had friends too, and my best girlfriend––Rachel. That is how bizarre my life had become. But she’s the only person who seems to understand how hard it is watching Mom die.
Rachel hadn’t seen her mom since she’d been really young. She’d run away from home. Her mom had bipolar too, but had never taken any medication. Rachel understood what it was like losing her mother, just in a different way.
Our friendship had started when Rachel had come out of the hospital. She’d been really doped-up, and not very talkative when Billy and I had visited her on the hospital ward, but after she’d got home they’d gradually balanced her meds, and we’d started having heart-to-hearts––about Jason and Billy––about love––about life.