by Melissa Hill
The sound of a car in the driveway broke Grace’s thoughts and she went downstairs.
“You’re early today,” she said to her husband.
“Yes, I wanted to surprise you guys,” Kevin said, dropping his laptop on the small table by the hallway and loosening his tie.
Grace tilted her head and smiled fondly. Kevin looked perpetually harassed. His short hair, dirty blond and curly was untidy from constantly running his hand through it. His tie hung askew on the left side and his eyes looked tired.
“You look like you could do with a rest.”
“Yes, but that’s not going to happen,” he said tersely. “Let’s go into the living room for a second, OK?”
Grace’s insides twisted immediately at the realisation that something was wrong. Had Kevin lost his job? Her heart beat fast, knowing what a disaster that would be. They had a huge mortgage and she was just thinking of returning to university for her master’s degree and then get a job, after four years of being a (part-time) stay-at-home-mum.
Oh no, please don’t let it be that he has lost his job.
She clenched and unclenched her hands as she followed her husband into the living room. She sat on the edge of the chair facing Kevin, the coffee table between them. Her brain which had been swarming with jumbled up thoughts was now still, as she waited to hear his news.
“It’s about this Lakeview trip…” Kevin began.
Her body relaxed a little. Maybe he hadn’t lost his job after all.
“I can’t go, honey, not now. Back in January when we booked it, all seemed fine but there’s just too much going on at the moment with the takeover. I can’t just take off for two weeks straight. Not now at least. I can maybe try and go down there at weekends though?”
Grace’s first reaction was relief. Relief that normal family existence could continue uninterrupted. It didn’t last long though. Her mind shifted quickly to the upcoming summer holiday to Wicklow, and her eyes widened.
“So I’ll be going to Lakeview alone with the boys?” She wasn't sure if this notion was more terrifying than the idea of Kevin losing his job.
“You’ll be fine. In fact you’ll be better off without me. You get to do what you want whenever you want without three men in the mix.”
“No. Let’s cancel the trip altogether,” Grace said, a panicky feeling crawling from her toes so that by the time it got to her chest, she felt incapable of thought.
“What? Why? Of course you’ll be fine. Besides, the boys are so excited about going to the cottage.”
“But what if something goes wrong while we’re there?”
“Like what?”
“What if they get sick?”
“There are GPs in Lakeview,” Kevin pointed out.
Grace tried to think of the million other things that could go wrong with her taking care of the twins on her own in a strange place for a whole two weeks.
Kevin sounded so confident in her abilities, yet, that heavy feeling in her stomach refused to go away. In theory, going to the small holiday town with her twin sons didn’t sound so difficult, but in practice, it was a whole different ball game.
Grace found herself nodding and agreeing although she didn’t have much of a choice really. As an executive of one of the top marketing firms in the country, which had just been taken over by the biggest, Kevin’s job was a big deal, and they couldn’t jeopardise that for a holiday.
The shrill of the landline broke the silence in the house. Grace stood up quickly and went to the hallway hoping the noise had not woken up the twins.
“Hello.” She said into the receiver.
“Hi Grace, its Christine. I was just calling to remind you about those summer classes for the boys? I’ve signed my two up for life skills classes for next week and taekwondo after that. There’s also piano lessons at the - ”
Once again Grace felt her anxiety levels rise. She’d completely forgotten about booking summer classes for the kids. It was hard enough trying to remember everything they might need for their upcoming trip.
“I’ll look into it when we come back from holiday OK? Thanks for reminding me though. Coffee when we return?”
After she and her friend exchanged a few more pleasantries, Grace replaced the receiver, and stood in the hallway rubbing her forehead. Sometimes she felt as though motherhood was one huge roller coaster, with no breathing space in between. There was always something that the boys ‘should’ be doing, and for a moment she thought again of her plans to go back to college or the workplace, and wondered how she would juggle all of it.
“Mum!”
“Mummy!”
Grace looked at the top of the stairs and saw Jake and Josh standing there rubbing their eyes after their nap. A few subtle differences helped to tell them apart. Josh had a small mole on his chin and Jake was a little bit taller.
At four years old, they still had that impish cuteness, but it was fading fast. They were growing up so quickly.
With a shriek, they ran down the stairs, taking two at a time and coming close to falling head first.
“Stop it!” Grace cried, images of a screeching ambulance racing down their street on her mind. “You’ll get hurt.”
“Relax, it’s just a little rough and tumble,” Kevin said from behind her.
She glared at him. “Don’t you know how dangerous those stairs are?”
“Grace, they’re just being kids. Hello boys, give your daddy a big hug.”
Kevin tickled each of the boys, until all three of them laughingly fell to the carpet.
Grace found herself smiling despite her panic. Kevin always had a way with the boys. She thought again of the looming trip to Lakeview and her smile froze.
She couldn’t handle the twins by herself, they were just too much. Sometimes they could be sweet, but those times were now increasingly a rarity. The majority of the time they were like twin tornadoes, destroying everything in their path.
“Go on to the kitchen for your tea guys, Marie is waiting,” she told them.
“But we want to eat our tea in the living room with you and daddy,” Josh complained.
“Let them.” Kevin said.
Grace sighed. “OK but you must promise to behave.”
“Promise!” they chorused.
Grace went into their huge sunny kitchen and carried a tea tray to the living room. Then she went back for the boys’ milk and cookies. She placed their cups of milk and cookies on a square stool and arranged two small chairs opposite each other on the stool.
“Did you have a good day at work today?” she said to Kevin, enjoying the silence.
For a moment she felt at peace, the boys were eating their cookies quietly and she and Kevin could catch up, and they could all just be a family together. But before her husband could answer, a quarrel arose.
“What is it?” she said sharply, turning to the twins.
“It’s Josh,” Jake said. “Dipping his cookie in my milk. Disgusting.”
“Stop it Josh, please,” Grace said, feeling her blood pressure rising yet again.
“But mum, he did it first,” Josh said in a whiny voice.
“I don’t care who started, just eat quietly.”
“You shouldn’t let them get to you like that, hon. They’re just being kids, let them be.”
Grace deliberately picked up her tea and swallowed a huge sip, hoping to push down the eruption of annoyance. She didn’t know how Kevin did it, keeping his cool with the boys like that. Most of the time they drove her so crazy, she couldn't think straight.
Like now.
She could see their feet kicking each other’s shins under the stool. She tried to ignore it, but it felt like a pressure cooker, with the steam building every second.
Unable to bear it anymore, she put her cup on the table and stood up.
“I need some things from the shop; I’ll just pop out and get them,” she said and left.
How would she cope alone with them for two weeks, Grace thought as s
he backed the car out of the garage.
If only Marie didn’t have to travel back home.
She felt the tension leave her body as she drove and listened to jazz music coming from the speakers.
Their departure date was a week from now; still time to get used to the idea.
Or talk herself out of spending summer in Lakeview at all.
5
Marianne Cohen looked at herself critically in the bathroom mirror.
Her sleek long bob looked perfect, nothing was out of place. She leaned further towards it and looked at her face. Her skin had always been spotless, even when as teenagers her friends had been breaking out with acne. Hers remained blissfully unaware of the raging hormones coursing round her veins.
Her lipstick needed retouching and she did this, giving the activity one hundred percent concentration, as she did with everything else. She took a step back and observed her reflection again.
Perfect.
Her black skirt suit and white shirt contrasted sharply with each other. She felt ready for the interview.
Marianne glanced at her wrist watch, it was nine o’clock, and she had thirty more minutes before her scheduled interview.
She gathered her folder and left the ladies room, walking confidently down the carpeted hall and into glass doors that led to the office reception area.
“Morning Susan.” Marianne said cheerfully to the stern middle aged receptionist.
She smiled back. “Morning Marianne, you’re early. Your meeting is not until half past.”
“I know, I just like to be early. Oh and it’s an interview, not a meeting.”
“Marianne you’ve been with us for seven years, this doesn’t really seem like an interview,” Susan said.
Marianne smiled and made her way to the black leather couches arranged around a glass table. She chose a seat that faced her boss’s office.
“Tea?” the receptionist asked.
“Yes please.”
A few minutes later, Susan placed a hot cup of tea on the table and Marianne murmured her thanks. She held the cup in both her hands as if for warmth, but the truth was that she was now feeling a little nervous. The implications of this interview were huge. If successful, Marianne’s new post would be the head of sales for the Dublin region.
Who would have thought she would end up working for a cosmetics company? She who had abhorred anything girly like make-up and any of that pink shrilly stuff that girls liked. Growing up, she had fancied herself a boy like her three brothers and could kick a ball as high as they could.
Sitting in the plush office, Marianne realised how lucky she was. She had everything a woman in her late thirties would want. She had a great job and a wonderful husband, whom she adored and got along well with.
Her mood clouded a little. That wasn’t quite right. They used to be happy together but these days, Donal did not seem to even remember she existed. He was obsessed with work. The only thing he understood was ambition. Last night he had been even more nervous than she over this promotion.
When it came to work, Donal gave Marianne a hundred percent concentration. Take this morning. He had woken her up an hour earlier than usual and they had practiced the interview.
He had asked her all the possible questions that would come up during the interview. She had answered with confidence and knowledge, and now she felt sure that she would do well. Of course it was impossible to be completely at ease; after all, this was something that she really wanted.
“Marianne, I’ve told Ms. Walker that you’re here and she’ll see you now,” Susan said.
She drowned the rest of her tea and stood up to follow Susan into the office. Her boss was on the phone but when she saw Marianne, she waved her in.
Marianne sat down on the leather chair next to the desk. The office was medium sized but with rich furnishings and beautiful pieces of art hanging on each wall. Behind Ms. Walker’s head was a glass wall that overlooked the city.
Her boss’s fingers were adorned with gold rings, but her ring finger was bare. Marianne recalled that in all the end of year parties, Ms Walker had attended alone and afterwards left alone, in her darkened Mercedes. She always cut a figure of a recluse, but in meetings with clients she came alive, leading the conversation with witty insights and brilliant ideas.
For as long as she could remember, from the moment she started working here, Marianne had admired Ms. Walker. She was so focused and worked damn hard. She was always the first to reach the office and the last to leave for home. She was Marianne’s beacon of hope and proof that hard work paid off. Marianne wanted to follow in her footsteps and even surpass her achievements. Who knew, perhaps one day, she would be the CEO of Prime Products.
Marianne took this moment when Ms. Walker was engrossed in her conversation to look at her. She was very thin, fashionably so, with short hair that fell just below her jawline. She was in her late forties or even early fifties, it was hard to tell. She had aged well, but then she never drank, at least from what Marianne had observed at company parties, and she didn’t smoke. Now that Marianne thought about it, Ms. Walker seemed to live a very severe life.
She was always here at the office, working at making Prime Products even more visible in the market. Rumour had it that she had a few shares in the company, perhaps that’s where her dedication stemmed from. Marianne looked at her huge desk. There were no pictures of children or loved ones.
Wait, there was one. It was at an awkward angle and Marianne couldn’t quite see it.
When Ms. Walker swung her chair to face the glass window, Marianne reached for the photograph and turned it her way. It was a picture of Ms. Walker holding a black and white tortoise shell cat, her features looking soft.
The picture was oddly disturbing, though. She was a mystery Ms. Walker. If the clues were correct, she lived her life entirely for Prime Products.
She looked at the picture again of Ms. Walker with her cat. It depicted a very sad life. Was her cat all that she had in the whole world? Who hugged her in the dead of the night, when she got plagued by worry or sadness? Who did she talk about her day with in the evenings? What about children?
Marianne thought about never having children, and her heart constricted with pain. She had always wanted a family, but the timing was never right.
Maybe Ms. Walker had once been like her. Perhaps she too had wanted children but ‘the timing was never right’?
Just then her boss finished her phone call and turned to Marianne, who gulped.
Show time.
6
That evening, as she prepared dinner for herself and Donal, Marianne realised what an uphill task faced her.
She had come to a realisation earlier in Ms Walker’s office. She remembered in the early days of their marriage, the feelings of giddy joy and the absolute belief that this would be forever.
But people grew apart, a day at a time. These days Donal’s work came first, or so it seems.
Marianne admitted that for her, work was important, but after looking closely at her boss today she had seen that as important as work was, relationships were the most important. And like gardens, they needed tending.
She and Donal had not tended theirs for a very long time.
Donal was either on his laptop, or his phone. The only way to bring back the magic was to perhaps return to where it all started and try and recapture that.
Feeling excited at the thought of lazy days in the sun, Marianne poured sauce on top of the lasagne and slid it into the oven. She rinsed her hands and went to the dining table where her laptop was. There’s was an open plan kitchen, chosen for the flexibility of cooking while talking.
A few clicks away and Marianne found the pretty little artisan cottages in Lakeview, a hug improvement from the small rundown hotel they had first stayed in all those years ago.
They looked quaint and quiet, just the perfect place for a couple to escape from the pressures of city life.
She browsed through several option
s until she found one that was perfect for them. Without giving it much thought, she filled out all the booking details, including her credit card details. Her hand lingered over the send key, and finally she hit it, and it was done.
Their summer holiday was booked.
Donal walked in at seven, holding a phone on one hand and a bag swinging from his shoulder. As he walked in, he finished talking on his phone and snapped it shut.
“Hi, welcome home,” Marianne said.
“Hi yourself. I see from how happy you look that the interview went well?” he said his face creasing into the devastating smile that had first captured her attention way back in college.
“Interview?”
Donal looked at her puzzled. “Yes, interview, remember. The thing we woke up early this morning to practice for? The thing that you’ve been looking forward to.”
“Oh, yes the interview. I’ll tell you all about it over dinner.” Marianne said without much enthusiasm.
He contemplated her for a moment, and then went into their bedroom, across the living room, and down the corridor. Meanwhile, Marianne set the table for dinner, and brought out lasagne. She also arranged wine glasses and took out a bottle of red wine from one of the kitchen cabinets.
Donal returned minus his jacket and tie, and the two top buttons of his shirt undone. He really was very handsome this husband of hers, Marianne thought.
She hadn’t quite ‘seen’ him in years. It wasn’t just his fault; she shouldered some of the blame too. She looked at him as a stranger might. He had black wavy hair, eyes that were green or blue depending on the angle of the sun, and full lips that were glorious to kiss.
He was tall and on the slim side, and he wore suits as though they were designed for his particular body alone. “What is it? You look like something’s bothering you,” Donal said.
“Nothing at all. Everything’s fine.”
Unconvinced, Donal sat down anyway and whistled at the wine. Usually they drank a few glasses of wine with their dinner on Friday or Saturday nights. Never on a Tuesday.