‘What are you staring at?’ he asked.
‘Oh, sorry. I was just looking at your eyes. They’re lovely.’
‘Thanks,’ he said, confused, guarded.
‘You’re welcome.’
There was a pause and Dougal pulled out a stool at the bench and hitched up his pants to sit down. He’d lost some weight, she realised. He had been working quite hard for some time now. Maybe he wasn’t eating enough.
‘It’s probably a waste of time to speculate,’ he said evenly. ‘Why don’t you just take the test and then we’ll deal with this discussion if we have to.’
‘Deal with it?’
‘Tansy, please don’t do this. Don’t try to trap me with my own words. Not right now. Please just do the test. I think it’s better if we don’t say things now that we might regret later.’
‘Regret?’
‘Tansy, please.’
She raised her chin in defiance, something that was unconscious but she noticed as it happened. Her defences rose, ready to do battle if necessary. But she tried to rein them in. He was right, of course. Whatever conversation they had now would be a total waste of time if there was nothing to talk about.
Or would it be? Even if she wasn’t pregnant, was having a baby something they should be reconsidering? Just over a week ago she’d convinced herself that this was something Dougal wanted, and she’d found herself elated at the prospect. Then she let it go, convinced she’d been caught up in the idea, spurred on by her falling fertility. But maybe it wasn’t just a passing ‘moment’. Maybe it was what she wanted.
Without another word, she took the paper bag from the bench and retreated to the black-and-white-tiled bathroom to pee on the stick. When she was done, she clipped the cap back on, put it on the edge of the vanity and studied herself in the mirror, illuminated by the row of warm bulbs across the top edge as though in a makeup studio. And it was while she was looking into her own eyes that she knew, without a shadow of a doubt, with every flicker of her nervous heartbeat, that she wanted this test to be positive. She wanted a baby.
‘And?’ Belle asked frantically. In the background, Tansy heard a truck roar past and could almost feel Belle’s car rock in its wake. ‘Was it? Are you pregnant?’
Tansy left the test in the bathroom, without waiting for a result, and returned to the kitchen.
Dougal jumped up from the stool. ‘Well? What did it say?’
‘It’s not ready yet,’ she said. ‘But I think we should talk.’
Dougal let his head fall back on his neck to look up at the ceiling for a moment before rocking forward to look at her and sigh.
‘I know,’ she began, speaking as slowly and reasonably as her emotions would let her, ‘that we discussed children right from the start.’
‘We did,’ he said.
‘And I knew how you felt then, and I think I know how you feel now.’
‘You think?’
She bit her lip. ‘But I think my feelings have changed. And I’m wondering if you . . . would you consider . . . is it possible . . . ?’
He cocked his head to the side, his fingers gripping the back of the stool. ‘What? Want a baby?’ He seemed horrified.
Her heart plummeted. Then anger rose. ‘I know it’s not fair,’ she said. ‘I didn’t set out to feel this way. I didn’t try to make this happen; this is as much of a surprise to me as it is to you. I want you to know that.’
‘Okay.’
‘You believe that, right?’
‘Yes.’
‘Good. Because I want that test to be positive.’
Dougal’s countenance crumpled and he ran both hands through his hair and linked his fingers behind his head, flapping his elbows like a bird as he paced the room.
She waited for him to stop pacing, which he did, placing both hands on the edge of the sink to gaze across the island bench at her, his jaw working and his chest rising noticeably.
‘Well?’ she prompted.
‘I don’t think we should talk about this until we’ve seen the result of the test,’ he said.
‘Well, I do.’
‘Why do you have to push?’ he groaned.
This was not the first time she’d heard this lament from her husband. Usually it was in response to her attempts to hustle him into taking Latin dance lessons with her, or hassling him about taking extra fibre each day because bowel cancer killed more people each year than breast or prostate cancer. No, it wasn’t a pleasant thing to think about—no one wanted to think about their poop—but it could save his life. Why wouldn’t he just take the damn psyllium? It wasn’t that big a deal, surely. He was being such a baby.
‘I need to hear your thoughts,’ she said now. He wasn’t getting out of this. She needed him to open that man cave of a brain and share.
He looked to the ceiling again, wrestling with his emotions. She waited. ‘We’re leaving for Canada next week,’ he said.
‘We might need to review that if the test is positive.’
‘But I need to go now,’ he said, straightening again.
‘Well, I don’t think babies like external schedules and rules. They tend to do what they want when they want.’
‘I love that you’re a dreamer, but you only ever dream of good things and happy endings. I’m past this. I did this when I was young, and my life was on hold for years and I was financially ruined for so long. Now Leo’s nearly out of uni. I should be preparing to be a grandparent in the next five years, not changing nappies and drowning in sleep deprivation. This is not what I want and you knew that. That was part of the deal.’
‘Deal? I didn’t realise this was a business transaction!’ she shouted. She was in full flight now, a mother lion protecting her cub and nothing and no one was going to stand in her way. She didn’t even know the result of that test, but some kind of raw, primal fierceness had risen up inside her at the mere suggestion that there was a baby.
Dougal swallowed. ‘That’s not what I meant. This wasn’t the conversation I was expecting to have today, or ever. Because we’d decided. Years ago. And now you’re saying you’ve changed your mind. What am I supposed to do with that?’
‘Things change. Life throws curveballs. I’d accepted that agreement, but I was young. Maybe too young.’ Her voice wobbled. Dougal’s eyes flashed fear as he suddenly realised that this could be a Very Large Problem. ‘I’m nearly thirty. Time isn’t on my side anymore. Things seem clearer. I want a baby.’
‘And what if I still don’t?’ he all but whispered. ‘I get no say in it. Just like last time.’
‘“Last time” had nothing to do with me. This is an entirely different situation. I’m not Rebecca.’
She burst into tears then, went back to the bathroom, locked the door and sobbed, sitting on the edge of the spa bath.
There was silence from outside the door. She had no idea if Dougal was even still in the house.
Then, abruptly, she stopped crying and wiped her nose, stood up and picked up the test stick. There was one pink line.
She wasn’t pregnant.
‘Schlock.’ Belle let out a long slow breath on the other end of the phone. ‘What happened then?’
‘I waited a while, took some deep breaths. Then I went out to the lounge, where I found Dougal distracting himself with a glass of scotch, handed him the stick, told him I didn’t want to talk about it and that I was going to Jordan and Katarina’s for the night.
‘He tried to grab my hand but I shook it away and left. I’m still here. They clearly know what’s going on but they’re not asking questions. Katarina just said they were there if I wanted to talk, otherwise they’d just feed me and make me tea till I was ready to go home.’
‘What are you going to do?’
‘I don’t know,’ Tansy whimpered, barely holding back tears.
Belle ummed and murmured sympathy for a few moments. Then she said, ‘Can I make a suggestion?’
‘Yes, please do.’
‘I know you’re hurting rig
ht now and everything seems awful, but this could be a good thing in the long run. It’s not ideal, the way this came up, and if I was going to offer some tough love here it would be that, maybe, pushing him to have that discussion while a pregnancy test was ticking away in the next room wasn’t the best time.’
Tansy didn’t say anything, embarrassed and annoyed to acknowledge that she’d let her feelings override Dougal’s. Belle was right, but she couldn’t admit it out loud.
‘I think you’re going to need to give him some time to come to terms with this. Maybe some space today is exactly what you both need. Let things settle. Try to get some clarity on your feelings.’
Hamish began to mew in the background. ‘Oh, he’s awake, I’ve got to go. But you’ll be okay, I promise. It will all work out in the end. Text me when you’ve gone home and talked to Dougal so I know you’re okay.’
‘Okay.’
‘Love you.’
‘Love you too.’
‘It’s too good a day to spend inside moping,’ Katarina declared in her mother-cum-teacher voice. ‘Let’s head to the marina.’
By mid-morning, Dougal still hadn’t texted or called and Tansy was worried and stroppy. They’d never had a fight like that before. Never. And on the odd occasion that she’d left the house to go for a drive to cool off, he’d always texted her minutes after she’d left, assuring her he loved her and he was sorry. She hadn’t texted either, of course, but she was old-fashioned like that and deep down felt it was his job to chase her.
But he wasn’t chasing. And the silence was deeply disturbing. Maybe Belle was right and they both needed some space.
The marina was festively busy, with a small collection of market stalls lining the wide boardwalk on the river, the cruise boat hooting as it left the dock, the sky as blue and the sun as bright and warm as they could be.
Toby led the way to Chocol’Arte, tucked in between a clothes shop and a florist, and they all took up residence on small wooden stools at the table where they could gaze through the glass at the handmade chocolates and the cakes and biscuits in their jars.
‘Hot chocolate all round?’ Katarina suggested, getting up to order. They all agreed and she waved away Tansy’s money.
Jordan—a theatre nurse at Noosa’s small private hospital—worked rotating shifts but had today off. He was unshaven but still handsome, his blue eyes the same colour as the water outside. He’d always been a heartbreaker as a teen, living life on the coast with Florrie and Alastair as an only child. He’d been a member of the surf lifesaving ‘nippers’ club from a small boy, and weekends spent in the sand, training hard, had given him a permanent golden glow, along with salty, sun-bleached hair and toned muscles that kept the girls interested. He was two years older than Tansy, which had served her well once boys had made it onto her agenda, Jordan’s friends bringing a constant supply of new dating opportunities. As for him, he’d met Katarina at a uni soccer weekend and she’d quickly become a permanent fixture in Tansy’s visits to the coast. Luckily, they’d hit it off from the beginning and if Jordan was the brother she’d never had, Katarina had been the other sister. Which was a wonderful thing at this moment when she needed their support.
But not in the mood to chat just yet, Tansy gazed out through the doors to the white pop-up tents of the stalls and the tall masts of sailing boats beyond, and a squadron of pelicans flying in a straight line high in the sky. Toby wandered around the gift section of the store, picking up brightly painted wooden eggs, patchwork owl doorstops and a porcelain teapot shaped like a chook before Jordan called him back and directed his attention to the game of Jenga stacked on the bench where they were seated. He was showing Toby how to play the game when Katarina returned, sliding her purse into her handbag.
She sat down next to Tansy, tucked her blond bob behind her ears and adjusted her green-framed glasses on her nose. ‘I got us a gingerbread man each too,’ she said, reaching for the sugar sticks in preparation to add extra to her hot chocolate when it arrived. Tansy must have looked surprised, because Katarina said, ‘I tried starting the day with your kale juice and wheatgrass and I was as green as the ingredients. I need coffee in my life. And chocolate. And sugar.’
Tansy smiled and held up her hands. ‘I’m right there with you. You couldn’t keep me away from it today if you tried.’
‘Do you want to talk about it?’ Jordan said, extracting a piece of Jenga from the stack while Toby bounced up and down in his seat waiting for it to fall.
‘No,’ Katarina intervened. ‘She’s here for chocolate, not to be interrogated.’
‘It’s fine,’ Tansy said. She paused while their beverages arrived, big deep mugs of frothing hot milk with a wooden stick weighed down with Belgian chocolate.
‘Yum,’ Toby said, pulling out his stick of chocolate and sucking on it.
‘You’re meant to stir it in,’ Katarina said. ‘Otherwise you’ll eat it and just be left with hot milk.’
Toby studied the stick for a moment but clearly decided it was worth it. He shrugged his shoulders and shoved the stick with the huge lump of chocolate into his mouth.
‘Thattaboy,’ Jordan said. ‘You enjoy it any way you like.’
Katarina watched her son, a small amused smile on her lips, then enjoyed sharing the moment via eye contact with Jordan. Tansy felt a tug of longing, watching them mist up over something so little, something that their small person could do that could enchant them so much.
Katarina still worked a part-time arrangement with a fellow teacher, job-sharing a Year Five class of students, a position she’d secured when Toby was small. Even though he was at school now, she felt that teaching full time took too much out of her and didn’t leave enough left over for her own child. ‘He’ll be a man before I blink,’ she’d often say, already sad for the day when she was no longer the centre of his world.
The gingerbread men arrived and Toby dunked his into his hot milk and sucked it dry, giggling as milk ran down his chin.
‘I thought I was pregnant,’ Tansy said.
Katarina nodded, waiting for her to go on. Jordan looked surprised and cast a glance at Katarina, but didn’t say anything, instead taking a serviette and wiping up Toby’s spilled milk on the bench.
‘But I’m not. And Dougal and I had a nasty fight about it.’
‘About you not being pregnant?’ Jordan asked.
Tansy gave a weak smile. ‘No. Because before I took the test I told him I wanted it to be positive, and that I’d changed my mind and I wanted a baby.’
Jordan let out a low whistle, and husband and wife exchanged another glance while they absorbed this news.
‘And he didn’t take it well?’ Katarina asked, sipping her drink. ‘You could say that.’ Tansy gulped down her drink. Even though it was dark chocolate, it was incredibly sweet, and she felt the sugar rush to her blood instantly.
‘So, just to be clear, Dougal doesn’t want any more kids, is that right?’ Katarina said.
‘Correct,’ Tansy said.
‘And that’s definitely non-negotiable?’ Jordan asked.
Tansy shrugged. What she’d hoped was that she would announce her feelings and he would have a swift turn-around and come on board. Part of her still believed it was possible.
‘Well,’ Katarina said, ‘just to play devil’s advocate, it’s not exactly something you can negotiate, is it? I mean, you either have them or not, there’s no halfway, is there? You both need to be in sync for something as life-changing as that. It’s a huge, gigantic commitment. You just never know what you’re going to get on the other side. You need to be a totally united team.’ She spoke decisively, as many parents did, about the rigours of commitment to child rearing.
‘That’s probably not what she wants to hear right now,’ Jordan said.
‘No, it’s okay. It’s what I need to hear,’ Tansy said, before her eyes spilled over and tears fell down her cheeks. ‘I did go into this marriage knowing that was how he felt. It’s not exactly fair to h
im.’
But is it fair to me?
Katarina rubbed her arm for a few moments as the pan flutes of the Andean music in the shop filled the silence.
‘So what are you going to do?’ Toby asked, a gorgeous milk moustache on his upper lip as he looked up at Tansy. She hadn’t even thought he’d been listening or comprehending.
‘Well, I don’t know yet,’ she said to him.
‘Mum says when you have a fight you should say sorry.’
‘Your mum’s wise,’ Tansy said.
‘You know you’re welcome to stay with us for as long as you need to,’ Jordan said.
‘Thank you.’
‘But one of you has to make the first move,’ Katarina said.
‘I’m just not ready,’ Tansy said. Tears threatened once more and she made her apologies and hastily picked up her bag to escape to the boardwalk and the fresh air. She headed down past the day spa and kept going towards the end of the marina. It was quiet here; the open water stretched out in front of her and she watched black birds bobbing up and down on the floating pontoons, and could even see an iridescent blue jellyfish blobbing against a barnacle-encrusted pylon.
Katarina was right, of course. One of them had to make the first move. But stupid, injured pride meant she didn’t want it to be her. She wasn’t ready to accept that, just possibly, neither of them was in the wrong here. And neither of them was right. They were at a stalemate.
She leaned on the metal railing at the end of the wharf and let the breeze dry her tears. And at last, there came a text from Dougal. She tapped it open, her heart in her throat, hoping for a tremendous apology and gushing pleas for her to come home and talk. Maybe even an admission that he secretly wanted a baby too.
Instead, it said, I know we still need to talk about yesterday, but you’d better come home now. Your mother’s here and she’s brought suitcases.
12
When Tansy arrived home, Enid was already unpacking in the guest room, carrying her toiletries into the ensuite, and hanging up clothes.
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