Liam had woken her with coffee and orders to get moving.
Rochelle had phoned and was expecting her for a meeting at nine.
Icy wakefulness shot through her—Rochelle had spoken to Liam. Rochelle knew there was a man living in her house. She didn’t know there was a locked door between them, so who knew what conclusions she’d draw. Bel groaned and would have hit her head on the doors, but they opened.
She found Rochelle around the corner, sitting in front of Bel’s own easel from the night before. She was studying Isobel’s portraits with no expression on her face. The pencil in her hand tapped nonstop in her palm.
Suddenly Bel’s feet felt far too heavy. It took all her effort to keep walking.
Rochelle patted the barstool next to her. “These are good.”
“Thanks. It was…challenging.”
“I’ll admit you’re the first to run.”
Bel didn’t know what to say to that, so she didn’t say anything.
“Let me tell you what I see. You are gifted with many talents. Before—you saw life in the fullness of its beauty, and because of your gifting, you could capture those moments on canvas with such clarity that others could share in it too. That is a unique and rare thing.”
“You said before. Before what?”
“Something traumatic hit your life with enough force to break you into a thousand tiny pieces. It broke you, Bel.” With the pencil, she gestured to Bel’s missing eye. “And it stole your ability to see.”
She stood up and turned towards Bel’s shattered face. She began sketching, adding to the drawing, “You think you are broken and there is no hope of ever being whole. I tell you now, being broken has not stolen your sight. It has increased it.” The pencil tip darted over the canvas like a dragonfly on a pond. “You see, Bel, life is beautiful, and that beauty has value. But life is also fragile and difficult. Tragedy and pain are real.”
Bel’s missing eye was coming alive beneath her skilled fingers. “Once you’ve walked the road of suffering, been broken by the weight of that which you were never meant to bear—you realize, He has been carrying you all along.”
Strong hands were taking shape around her face. “In His hands, being broken does not rob you of all value. In His hands, being broken allows His life inside of you to spill out, and bring His Life to everyone you meet.”
The cracks that destroyed her face, were slowly transforming into blazing light beams. Light that shone and sparkled, stretching beyond the confines of the canvas. Rochelle leaned close to add the last few lines. She put down the pencil and stepped back with her arms crossed.
Bel stared. Her pencilled face, radiant—so bright and beautiful that the unmarred face of her first portrait paled in comparison.
“It’s incredible.”
“His ways are incredible. You, my dear, have a class to teach.”
The lift pinged and the room filled with happy chatter.
15
By the time Isobel got home, Mia was fast asleep. She’d nodded off halfway through her lunch, and Liam had managed to carry her upstairs and tuck her in without waking her. He had an irritating way of handling her that Bel hadn’t quite nailed yet. Show off.
“Are you feeling better than last night?” He sported a checked dish towel in one hand and a squeeze bottle of double-strength lemon dishwashing soap in the other. He wielded them as a knight would his sword and shield. If any dirty dragons happened to show up, they’d be in some serious trouble.
“I am.”
“Good. That makes me happy.”
She found herself mesmerised.
He picked up a dripping plate and started drying it. The plate seemed to shrink in his hands. He worked his way methodically through the stack on the drying rack.
Bel leaned back against the door frame and watched. “Liam, I need to tell you something.”
He stopped washing and took a cloth to dry his hands. “Should we go sit in the lounge?”
“No, just keep washing. It will be easier that way.”
To his credit, he didn’t say a thing about how weird women were, but picked up the cloth and carried on. “I’m all ears.”
She floundered, not sure if she really wanted to do this. She thought about the last ten years, ten years of running. Hiding the past away as if it would magically dissipate like morning mist under the gaze of the sun. It hadn’t; she knew that now. Instead, it had all gone sour in her belly. Where to begin?
“Last night in art class we drew a self-portrait. Two in fact. The first was easy—it was just my face in a mirror and I actually managed to draw. The second part was awful.”
Liam had run out of dirty dishes and was now re-drying the dry ones to keep her talking.
She noticed, but couldn’t bear the thought of looking him in the eye while unpacking her insides. She pretended not to see. “We had to break the mirror and redraw our portrait. It was like being slapped in the face over and over with my own brokenness. It took a single hit to shatter my image, and then I knew that’s what happened to me. It was one event that broke everything about me. That’s why I couldn’t draw, couldn’t move on.”
Liam had put the cloth over his shoulder and turned to face her. He towered over her, and she breathed in his closeness. Part of her wanted to run. The rest of her wanted to lean into the strength of his chest. Never mind lean, collapsing would do just fine too.
“Tell me, Bel.” His voice was barely a whisper.
“I was in art school ten years ago. My mentor was—”
The doorbell rang.
Isobel didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
“I’ll get it. You hold that thought.” Liam left her in the kitchen.
“No! Liam!” She ran after him. This could not be happening. She got to the door to find him introducing himself to Melindi as Mia’s doctor.
Her friend’s gaze took in his shorts and bare feet, the soggy cloth over his shoulder. This would go down as the weirdest house call in the history of medical science.
Melindi must have drawn her own conclusions. She grinned broadly at Bel. “Sorry to bug you guys. I really need a favour.”
Mia started crying upstairs and Liam excused himself to go see to her.
Melindi grabbed Bel’s arm, whispering furiously, “What on earth, Bel? What a catch! I’m so happy for you!”
“It’s not what you think, really.”
“Well it should be. He’s adorable!”
“No, trust me. He drives me nuts. I pity the poor woman who gets him.”
Melindi was smiling and nodding with oh right, written all over her face.
“You needed a favour?”
“I do. I’ve been invited to a single moms’ thing tonight. I was wondering if you could watch the kids? But no, I can see you are busy. It’s fine. I’ll go next week.”
“So there’s no hope then…you and your husband?”
Melindi shook her head. “It’s been too long. He doesn’t want to stay.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be. It is just the way things are.”
Liam came downstairs.
Mia was snuggled into his neck, fuzzy from her nap.
“So, who are we babysitting?”
****
Isobel sat on the couch with her feet drawn up. The buttery smell of popcorn drifted through from the kitchen accompanied by Liam’s torturous rendition of Old King Cole—the only nursery rhyme he could remember.
Ben was swatting a ball with his cast, taking turns to aim at Lilly and Mia. Lilly was besotted with Mia and watched her every move.
When Melindi had dropped them off, Mia had taken time to study Lilly and Ben with her serious eyes before trying to stick her finger up their noses. Lilly had taken it in her stride, blinking and then letting out an enormous sneeze. Ben had swatted her hand away and laughed. That laughter had sealed it for Mia. She’d made up her mind: they would be friends. Probably forever.
Ben rolled the ball and it bumped i
nto Mia’s foot.
She looked straight at Isobel and said, “Ball.”
Isobel wasn’t sure she’d heard right.
“Liam! Come hear this!”
He came through with a mouth full of popcorn. “Huh?”
“Listen. Ben, roll the ball at her again.”
Ben rolled it too hard, and it shot past Mia.
She turned and pointed. “Ball.”
Liam dropped to the floor next to her. “What’s this, Mia?”
She ignored the ball and pointed at his nose. “Mine!”
Ben slapped the carpet and laughed so hard Lilly started crying.
Liam picked up the tearful baby. “Mamma Bel, I think it’s bedtime for these little people. What do you think?”
Bel was at a loss for words. Liam was in his element, surrounded by little people. The whiffs of popcorn in the air had home threaded through them. It felt like a dream, a dream she didn’t want to wake up from.
Three stories and a tall glass of water later, quiet descended on the house.
Liam flopped down in the corner of the couch. It would have been the most natural thing in the world to shimmy in next to him and lay her head on his shoulder.
She sat in the far corner, drawing her knees up between them like a wall.
“Should I bring some dishes and a cloth?”
She swatted at his leg, and he caught her hand, laughing. The laughter faded and his voice sank to little more than a whisper. “Seriously Bel, it’s time you got that stuff inside, out. You were telling me about your art mentor.”
“There’s not much to tell, really. I was young and naïve. He was compelling and brilliant. It took many months, but he was patient. Persistent. I fell for him. I fell hard. He took me in and taught me art. He told me that…making love was the ultimate key to releasing your emotions. That was the one thing that would take my artistry to the next level.”
Liam’s fists clenched.
There was no emotion in the words that left her lips. She spoke as a news reader would from a teleprompter. The emotions were buried, and that’s where they were going to stay. “Idiot that I am, I believed him. I was not the first he had his way with. According to his plan, it was all working out beautifully.” Her eyes lost focus as she confronted the Pandora’s box that she’d been denying so long. “The baby wasn’t something he’d factored in though. That’s where his plan fell apart. I suppose he thought I was like the other girls, that I was prepared. I wasn’t. He was my first.”
Liam reached across to take her hand.
She pulled away sharply and scratched an itchy spot on her head that wasn’t itchy at all. “I was scared when I found out that I was having his baby. It wasn’t the way these things are meant to happen. But to be honest, I was also excited. From the moment I knew, I loved this little person growing inside of me. I was so besotted with him, I hoped the baby would tie us together in some real, tangible way. I thought we could be a family.” She floundered now, unable to put words to the unspoken horror she’d lived through. Ravenous pain that she’d never spoken out loud for fear of feeding it.
In an instant, Liam shifted closer and put his arms around her shoulders.
She stiffened against his touch, but he didn’t back off. He said nothing, but he held on. She closed her eyes and surrendered to the safety of his arms.
“I remember waking up in terrible pain. My baby was gone. Stolen from me. The last thing I remember was him saying we’d be going out to celebrate. He bought me a drink—fruit juice, not alcohol. He insisted on it. To me, it was his way of acknowledging the baby was real, a little life worth protecting. I was so happy. I was with the man I loved most, and we were having a baby together. Life felt complete.”
“So what you’re saying is that he drugged you and took you for an abortion?”
“He had connections with some people on the medical faculty. They offered the service to students. It was all very hush-hush.”
Liam’s arm around her was shaking.
“I didn’t know how to handle it, so I left. As far as I know, he’s still there, teaching. It’s as if it never happened. Some days I wondered whether it was all just a very long nightmare. But every time I faced a blank canvas, I knew the truth. I would never be whole again.”
Liam drew her closer into his arms, as if he could absorb her pain if he just squeezed hard enough. “Which is why we can’t let anything happen to Mia.”
She pushed herself away from him. “Stop it, Liam! Let it rest. Nobody is hunting for her. Nothing bad is going to happen. Why do you keep bringing it up?”
He sat silent, stewing.
“Why does this bother you so much anyway?”
He breathed out, and the fight drained from him. “It just does. I have no evidence for you other than what my heart says. There must be some sort of syndicate, a group to draw in single moms. From there…who knows? Isolate and brainwash them? It sounds far-fetched, but it’s possible.”
“Isolate and brainwash? Liam, listen to yourself. You are sprouting ideas straight from the plot of some low budget movie. Even if you’re right, what do we do? You can’t keep living on my couch. Have you thought about how weird this arrangement is? You’ve got to get back to your practice. It’s one thing to feel something is out of whack, but quite another to turn life upside down for a whim—a feeling that might not even be real.”
“All the leads I’ve followed have come back with nothing. But I know things aren’t right. If anything happened to Mia…”
“There is something you’re not telling me.”
He pointedly ignored her accusation. The man was selectively deaf.
“I don’t know where to go from here,” he said.
By the lamplight, she could see determination set in his jaw.
“But I know Someone who does. Pray with me, Bel.”
16
Melindi was singing as she hung up washing in the morning sun.
Isobel could hear her from the kitchen.
Melindi had collected her two late the night before, but hadn’t said much about her evening out. In hindsight, she was probably trying to give Isobel and Liam time alone.
Isobel cringed, realizing how wrong her friend’s assumptions were.
Melindi’s lilting song filled the crisp morning air with a lightness that had little to do with the rays of the sun.
Why was she so happy? Isobel wanted to go see, but Mia had her legs in a vice grip.
“Joooos!”
“You want some juice?” Isobel marvelled at the change in Mia since Liam had been living on the couch.
The baby had discovered a deep well of words within her and wielded them with determination. She seemed intent on catching up for the weeks of silence.
Isobel poured apple juice into a sippy cup they’d inherited from Ben. It sported red cars with fat yellow tyres.
Mia clapped, took the juice, and then flopped down onto the kitchen floor, her nappy wedged between her skin and the chilly floor.
Isobel unlocked the back door, latching it as she went out. “Hey, neighbour. You are very cheerful this morning!” She leaned on the jasmine that hung in thick, fragrant clusters over the wall. The air filled with the sweet scent.
Melindi pegged a pink baby bodysuit to the line, left her washing, and walked over to where Bel leaned over the wall. “I feel like a new person. Last night was amazing.”
“Tell me.”
“There were eight other moms there. The lady running the meeting got us all to talk about how we came to be single moms. Each person had a chance to share. It was so good to realize that I’m not alone. I really think this group will be a lifeline for me.”
“That’s great! I’m so happy for you. You really need a good group of friends right now, especially if they can relate to what you’re going through.” The silence from the house set off alarms in her head. “I’d better go see what Mia is up to.” Isobel squeezed her friend’s arm and turned to the house.
Mel
indi called after her. “And you know the best part? They say that I’ve qualified for free one-on-one counselling.”
Bel froze. She turned back. “Say that again?”
“I know! Too good to be true, but it really is happening. I’ve wanted to see a counsellor or someone just to get perspective, but money won’t allow it. Now, it has found me.”
“With whom?”
“I don’t know. It doesn’t really matter. Apparently, they use all the latest techniques to help you get to grips with your emotions. Isn’t that awesome? The most amazing thing is that I’m the newest in the group and I’m the only one that they’ve chosen. Incredible, hey?”
Cold ice shot down Bel’s spine.
Melindi laughed and covered her mouth with her hand. “Oh, flip. Bel, I’m not supposed to tell anybody. Forget that I told you, OK?”
“Why would you need to keep it secret?”
“I suppose they don’t want to be inundated. It is free, after all.”
Melindi had just described Liam’s bad movie plot: Isolate and brainwash.
It made Bel’s belly twist. She shook her head as if she could physically dislodge Liam’s paranoia. He was driving her crazy on every level. Liam’s theories aside, it still didn’t sit right with Isobel. ”Are you sure it’s wise? You don’t know much about these people. Besides, I don’t trust anything that’s offered for free. They will make you pay somewhere down the line.”
Melindi deflated. “But they said”—she hesitated—”anyway, I’ve always thought I was a good judge of character, and it feels right to me.” She turned back to her washing.
Bel had hurt her friend. It would have been better to keep quiet. Now was probably also not the best time to bring up Melindi’s choice of husband. At least she’d managed not to blurt that out too.
****
Bel took the wet plate from Liam and dried it. Mia was asleep upstairs but Bel wished the little girl was awake. She needed an excuse to get out of the kitchen and away from Liam’s questions.
“All I’m asking, Bel, is why you haven’t gone for counselling? After what you’ve been through, it would really help.”
Finding Mia Page 8