‘Hey, man, I never touched her,’ I said.
He laughed, and for a moment we were just two guys chatting, and not at someone’s funeral.
Then he sobered. ‘No man, me and Jess. That night at your place, it gave me the courage to stand up for myself, and to fight for what I wanted. Jess and I got married two years ago, and she means everything to me. Teresa is four months old, and I’ve never been happier. I’ve never been more tired, but it’s awesome. So thanks.’
‘You’re welcome,’ I replied. I hoped for his sake this was real life and not a Possibility.
‘At least Dad got to meet Teresa. Have you spoken to Elissa?’ he asked.
I shook my head, scanning the room but not seeing her. ‘How is she?’
He frowned slightly. ‘I’m not sure. Not good, I think.’
‘It’s understandable – you’ve just lost your dad.’
He shook his head. ‘There’s something else going on. I’m not sure what though. You should go talk to her.’
‘Where is she?’
He pointed towards the back door. ‘Probably out the back smoking.’
‘I’ll wait till she comes back in. Anyway, she probably has a ton of people that want to talk to her.’
He grinned at me.
‘What?’
‘Go talk to her, numbnuts.’ He laughed.
I punched him on the arm; it was like hitting concrete. He laughed again and walked off in the direction of his family.
I picked my way through the crowd and slipped out the back door. She was leaning against a tree, a trail of smoke spiralling up from her hand. Behind her, stone testaments to the long gone stood waiting to welcome their newest addition.
She saw me coming and guiltily stubbed the cigarette out on the ground. Close up I could see Steven was right – she wore a lot of makeup, but it wasn’t enough to completely cover the dark mark bleeding out from the edge of her sunglasses.
‘Hi, Troy.’ She leaned in for a fleeting hug, but not so quick I couldn’t feel the bones beneath the dark jacket and blouse.
‘Hi, Elissa. I’m sorry about your dad.’
She nodded sadly. ‘How’ve you been?’
‘Can’t complain. You?’
She looked away.
‘Sorry. Of course you’re not okay,’ I apologised.
She turned back and offered me a dialled down version of the smile I remembered. ‘I’m doing okay. Sydney is great. I have a great job and a wonderful boyfriend. We’re in love.’ Her voice had a robotic tinge to it.
‘Is your boyfriend here?’
‘He’s inside. He’s been so supportive during this.’ But the way she looked over my shoulder didn’t gel with the words.
‘And you’re an aunt.’
This time her smile was genuine. ‘She’s beautiful, isn’t she? Steven is a big sap around her. It’s so cute.’
‘No kids for you?’ I asked.
She shook her head. ‘No. Geoff wants to wait until we’re married.’
‘So you’re getting married? Congratulations.’
‘We’re not engaged yet. We will though – when he’s ready.’ Again there was something not quite right about her tone. ‘How about you? Girlfriend? Wife?’
My turn to shake my head.
‘That’s sad,’ she said.
‘I’ll find the right someone eventually.’ I looked at her a little too long; she shifted uncomfortably under my gaze and I diverted my attention to the graves stretched out beyond the tree. To me each marble stone represented a Possibility, a life been, gone, never was. I didn’t like cemeteries.
‘I should get back inside,’ she said, briefly touching my arm.
A warm feeling flooded my body. ‘I offered to help you once. Do you remember?’ I said softly.
She nodded, ‘Of course I do. I appreciated it.’
‘The offer still stands,’ I told her. ‘You’re smoking, you’re thin as a rake, and if I’m not mistaken you have a black eye. Are you telling me you’re okay?’
‘You don’t know me,’ she said.
‘I know who you could be,’ I fired back.
Again she looked confused, then angry. ‘I know what you’re thinking and it’s not true. I have a wonderful relationship. He would never treat me the way I wouldn’t deserve.’
It was a curious way to put it. ‘You deserve to be treated like a queen. Is that how he treats you?’
‘You don’t know me,’ she repeated.
‘Maybe not, but I want to help you.’
She shook her head. ‘Why? Because you did once before? That doesn’t mean you have to spend the rest of your life looking out for me.’
‘What if I want to?’ Wait. Where the hell did that come from?
‘You don’t know me,’ she said for a third time.
‘You keep saying that,’ I pointed out.
‘Because you don’t seem to be listening,’ she responded with a hint of the Cat I knew. ‘Look, I’m about to put my dad into the ground, so this isn’t the time or the place for conversations about something imaginary you think is happening.’
‘I’m sorry, Elissa.’
She lightly touched my arm again, and my skin tingled under her fingers. ‘It was good to see you, Troy.’
My eyes followed her all the way back to the hall door, but my feet stayed where they were. Well done, Troy, you royally fucked that up.
She stopped halfway to the door and turned back. ‘Are you still building sand sculptures?’ she asked.
‘Sometimes,’ I admitted.
She stared into the distance. ‘Sometimes I feel like the moon,’ she said softly.
Stunned that she remembered the story, I took a step towards her, and she took an involuntary step back. I stopped and she flashed me an apologetic look.
‘You should feel like the sun,’ I told her.
‘I’m here for another week. Maybe I’ll see you at the moon.’
I didn’t understand the reference straight away. ‘You take care, Elissa.’
She made to turn, then paused. ‘Troy? I like it when you call me Cat.’ She walked inside, leaving me to ponder what the hell had just happened. I stayed outside for a while, turning the encounter over in my mind. It could be I was reading too much into it; maybe she simply liked me calling her Cat. Or maybe she was calling for help.
Hesitantly I picked my way through the older stones, faded names and memories, and came to a stop before a newer stone. Read the words, read them again, and felt the familiar swell in my throat. My eyes kept returning to the bottom two lines. ‘Died in 2006’ and ‘Our sunshine’.
When I went back into the hall Cat stood next to a tall, solidly built man, his arm possessively on hers. I didn’t try and talk to her again.
Emily and I spent the evening catching up, mainly involving drinking, and gossiping about things. Perhaps because of the reason she was down from Auckland, or maybe she picked up on my pensive mood, or maybe she thought she would cut me a break – whatever the reason, she didn’t bring up my lack of love life. A huge concession for her.
She peeked into my room at one point, saw the empty corner, and asked me if I’d finally finished the painting. I lied and said I’d thrown it out a few years ago. It was wrapped in an old sheet in the back of the wardrobe.
Sometime around midnight I crawled into bed, arranged the pillows around me, and lay staring at the ceiling. As I drifted off to sleep an idea began percolating in the back of my mind.
The next day I went to the beach. It was a work day, but my boss understood the need for a personal day, especially when I played up my relationship with Cat’s father. Emily offered to go with me but I said I needed some time alone. As excuses go it was pathetic, given I live alone, but she gave me a knowing look.
Traffic was light and it took only thirty minutes. The sky was bright and clear, but the day cool. The beach was mostly empty, just the occasional retired couple walking their dog. The sand felt damp beneath me as I sat and watched the w
ater sparkle with sunlight. I waited until the sun touched the horizon. No one came.
I went back the next day. Same spot, same outcome.
The third day I dropped Emily at the airport. At the gate she hugged me long and hard.
‘I hope she shows up,’ she said. Nothing gets past her. She walked through security while I tried to think of a smart come-back. I needed to start stockpiling quips so I had one ready when needed.
It was cloudy and cold at the beach. Not even the dogs wanted to walk. I sat in the carpark and wondered if I was being stupid. For all I knew she’d flown back to Australia. I was about to climb out when my phone rang. For a moment my finger hovered over the reject call button, but in the end I answered it.
‘Hey, Mum.’
‘We didn’t get a chance to talk the other day at church.’ Her voice calm but tinged with accusation.
‘Sorry. You looked busy,’ I pointed out.
A misty rain began to fall and the outside world slowly blurred and faded.
‘Fair enough, but this weekend your father and I want you to come over for lunch on Sunday. We have something to discuss.’ It wasn’t a request.
‘What?’ I asked, suppressing a sigh.
‘Sunday, eleven-thirty. Bring cheese.’
‘What sort of…?’ But she was already gone.
Irritated at the interruption, I emerged into the rain, zipping up my coat and pulling the hood over my head. I trudged over the dunes, half sliding down to the sand. The water churned and struggled its way to shore, and a lone seagull above me issued a forlorn cry across the wind. The rain lightly kissed my jacket before sliding to the sand beneath my feet.
‘This is stupid,’ I called out to the universe.
‘Just a bit.’ Cat stepped up next to me. She wore a blue rain jacket, the hood casting her face into shadow, plus faded blue jeans, and running shoes. Her hands were shoved deep into the jacket pockets. We stood in silence for a while.
‘No playing in the sand today,’ she noted.
‘A bit wet for building sandcastles,’ I said.
‘I came yesterday. Saw you waiting, but I couldn’t get out of the car. Silly, I know, but I couldn’t do it.’
‘At least you came today.’
‘I felt bad for you,’ she said with a hint of mocking. ‘Standing alone on the beach is sad.’
‘So this is a pity visit.’
‘Why else would I be standing in the rain?’
‘You tell me,’ I said.
She didn’t, not straight away. Then she slipped her arm through mine and leaned her head against my shoulder. I was too afraid to move, the last time I’d tried comforting her still fresh in my mind.
‘Why do I feel so safe around you?’ she asked softly.
A thousand quips formed and died on my lips.
‘You don’t know me,’ she said in an echo of the churchyard. ‘But you said you know who I could be. What did you mean?’
I thought about my response carefully. ‘You’re right, I don’t know you – not any more – but back then I saw something in you, Cat. Some spark, some strength, some light. I don’t really know how to describe it. It’s like you were whole, but you were also a promise of something great.’ I sighed, let down by words.
‘Wow. It almost sounds like you were in love with me.’
‘Wouldn’t that have been a fine thing?’ I said quietly.
‘Wouldn’t it?’ she said wistfully.
I wasn’t sure I’d heard her right. Maybe I was too afraid to believe the words. For a glorious moment we stood in our own world, flashes of colour in the grey, the only two people who mattered. I wanted to stay there forever. I wanted it to be our forever.
Then the spell broke. ‘I have to go,’ she said reluctantly. ‘Geoff will start asking questions.’
‘He’s abusing you.’
‘He gets a little over-excited sometimes.’
I felt sick. ‘Are you listening to yourself?’
She extracted her arm and straightened up. ‘I know how it sounds, Troy, but he loves me. He would never – ’
My head exploded, darkness flooding my sight, senses shutting down … nothing. Then hearing roared back and my face felt funny. I realised I was lying on wet sand, voices jumbling and jostling in my ears. Light edged back into my eyes I took a ragged breath, inhaled sand, could taste it on my teeth, my tongue, tried to cough it out. I tried to move and failed. Nothing worked right – arms, legs, brain. I heard a scream and something fell to the ground in front of my face, a white blob with tinges of blue around the edge.
‘I told you,’ shouted a man. It didn’t make sense, none of it made sense. My eyes refused to focus; the white blob remained tantalisingly elusive. ‘I told you what would happen, you worthless bitch.’
My face was wet, the sand or the rain, or tears. I suddenly knew what was happening. ‘Leave her alone,’ I shouted, but it was in my head, my mouth not working. I’d failed, I didn’t protect her. It can’t end like this. I didn’t try my hardest, I didn’t save her.
Darkness nibbled at my eyes. I’d been here before, dying, and I fought it, raged against the encroaching darkness, pleaded with the universe, yet still it came.
I closed my eyes…
And opened them again. I was sitting at the kitchen table at home. The laptop lay open in front of me. Instinctively I reached up and touched the back of my head, expecting blood and bone. My face felt damp with wet sand. The hands in front of my eyes shook badly. Nausea gripped my stomach, and I had to force bile back down my throat. I took several deep breaths and the knot in my stomach loosened. With shaky hands I grabbed the bottle of vodka from the bench and took a swig. It burned my throat but slowly warmth made its way to my limbs and I stopped shaking.
On the laptop was a message window open from Cat. This was her explanation and apology, so we were in 2016. I got up from the table and went down the hall to check on Emily. She lay buried under the duvet. I retraced my steps, sat back down at the table and stared at Cat’s message. My response sat waiting to be sent. Slowly I reached out and lightly touched the back button, erasing letters, deleting sentiment, leaving a blank window, a fresh start. I sat for a long time thinking what to say.
I couldn’t jump in with Don’t get into a relationship with someone called Geoff. She probably hadn’t met Geoff yet, might never meet him. It was important to keep things generic but try and get the message across. I got the vodka out of the cabinet, rinsed a dirty glass and poured some, then sat back down in front of the laptop. Nothing came. Actually lots of things came, but none of them were right. It would be easier to do this face to face, or even over the phone, but I didn’t have her number. Frustrated I paced the kitchen, winding myself around the table like a spring, each revolution tightening the tension, even when I changed direction to loosen things up. Each time I passed the blank screen the cursor blinked invitingly at me, teasing me for not know what to say.
‘That looks like fun.’ Emily stood in the doorway. She wore her plush, purple dressing gown, and bunny slippers. Her hair was tangled from the pillow.
‘Sorry, did I wake you?’ I said.
‘No, just had a bad dream,’ she replied, coming into the room and rinsing a glass for herself. I glanced sharply at her. ‘Not about that. It was about Elissa.’ She poured herself a gin and sat at the dining table. ‘I don’t remember it, just bits and pieces. I woke up with a sense something wasn’t right. What’s this?’ She turned the laptop around and read Elissa’s message. Her face clouded, then looked thoughtful. ‘Are you going to reply?’
‘I’m trying to, but I can’t find the right thing to say.’
‘How about, please don’t stay in Australia because I’m in love with you.’
I choked on my drink. She watched, amused, as I regained the ability to breathe.
‘Jesus, Ems, where did that come from?’
‘Ha. You think I haven’t noticed how much you’ve been moping around since she went to Australia? You don�
��t do that unless you have some strong feelings.’
‘I wasn’t moping,’ I protested. She looked at me over the edge of her glass. ‘Fuck.’
She laughed. ‘This is a good thing, Troy, I think it’s the first time I’ve ever seen you like this. So we should be celebrating.’
‘Yeah, right,’ I retorted. ‘For a start I never said I was in love with her. And secondly, even if I was – and that’s a massive if – what’s to celebrate? She fled the country. Yay me.’
Emily studied me with pity. ‘No one said love was easy, Troy.’
‘Is that why you’re living with me and not the man of your dreams?’ I said with half-hearted spite.
‘I’m selective.’
‘You’re high maintenance,’ I quipped.
‘I’m adorable,’ she shot back. Emily had brought home plenty of guys over the years. Most I met for the first time at the breakfast table the morning after. Usually they only lasted a few months. The dumping always seemed to be initiated by her. I didn’t understand it, had asked her about it a couple of times, but she said she was looking for the right guy.
I threw my hands up in mock surrender and we drank, like we’d both lost some weird game.
‘Do you want her back here?’ Emily asked.
My lack of response was answer enough.
‘Then start with that.’ She kissed me on the top of the head and took her half-empty glass back to bed, leaving me alone once more with the blank page and blinking cursor.
Finally I placed my fingers on the keyboard, stroking the keys for a moment, one final hesitation, one final chance to think or rethink. Then I typed.
I think it’s a mistake, I said to her, and quickly pressed send before my brain or heart changed my mind. I poured another drink, a healthy buzz now permeating my body, my mind softening at the edges.
I was about to close the messenger window down when a response popped up. Just the one word. Why?
Because your friends are here. We can help you.
She came back straight away. I have friends here, and it’s far away.
What about your family? I typed.
They understand, she replied.
Will distance help? I asked. Really?
Troy’s Possibilities Page 14