Always You

by Belle Brooks

  “Hello, dear. Are you hungry?” Twisting my body so I can see behind me, I’m met by a lady with permed white hair falling onto her rounded face.

  “Hello.”

  “Would you like something to eat, dear?” Lime green eyes surrounded by heavy bags blink in wait of a reply.

  “Yes, please. You wouldn’t happen to have burgers on your menu?”

  “I can have one made for you. Would you like steak or chicken?”

  “Chicken, please.”

  “All the salad accompaniments?”

  “Yes, please. Except tomato. I’m not much of a fan.” Instinctively my nose scrunches up.

  “No tomato. Done.” She writes my order on a notebook small enough to be cupped in her hand before delivering me a sweet smile.

  “Can I get some mayonnaise as well?”

  “Of course.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Take a seat and I’ll bring you a jug of water. You look parched.”

  “I am. Thank you.”

  Drawn to a corner table, I drop my bag to the floor and look out a window situated beside my head. It’s oddly quiet here. I don’t remember the last time I’ve seen a café in a residential area like this.

  Staring at a few long and out of place strands of grass growing from the top of the gutter across the road, I try to put in order how and when I will inform the people who matter in my life what I’ve learnt in the last few days.

  “Water, dear.”

  Shaking my head, I blink twice before eyeing the lady I met on entry. “Sorry.”

  “Water, I’ve poured you a glass and set the bottle down for you.”

  “Oh, sorry, thank you.”

  “What’s the matter? You look as though you’re carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders. This can’t be healthy for a young lady like yourself.”

  “It’s okay,” I mumble.

  “Here, I have two perfectly working ears.” This lady radiates caring and politeness. Without invitation, she sits down in the chair across from me. “I might be old, but I still have the hearing of a bat. Why don’t you tell me what’s bothering you?”

  “Oh, I don’t want to be a bother.” Why does she care, anyway?

  “No bother at all. I’m Estelle, by the way, and you are?”

  “Maybelline…but everyone calls me May. I prefer it actually.” The corner of my lip pushes upwards in an attempted smile.

  “Maybelline. That’s very pretty.”

  I project a soft half-hearted laugh.

  “So, Maybelline, what seems to be the problem?”

  “Where do I start?”

  “I’ve always found at the beginning works well.”

  We sit and talk for over an hour. Estelle only leaves once to collect our burgers. Not only did she have one made for me, but she also had an identical one made for herself. Turns out we were not alone here in this café. Someone was cooking out back.

  Each bite satisfies my hunger and in between my crazed bites I explain my current predicament to Estelle. By the time I’m dabbing the napkin to the corners of my mouth she says, “Maybelline, you have many decisions to make, you’re right. But only you know what’s best for you. Nobody knows you better than you do now, do they?” She places her hand on top of mine when I lay them and the napkin back to the table. “I’m sorry to hear of your cancer, dear. You’re very young to go through such a thing.” The strain on her lips tells me her heart is saddened for me.

  I have a strange sense of comfort when I allow myself to smile momentarily at Estelle. It’s amazing what someone just listening can do.

  With a gentle hug on my departure, Estelle breathes, “If your end is coming, Maybelline, make sure you leave every piece of you that you can behind.”

  “Thank you, Estelle.”

  Finding the doorway, I turn back once more. “One question, why is the café called Layla?”

  “Loss is hard to swallow for everyone, Maybelline…we all do things to try and keep a piece of our loved ones with us. Layla was my sweet little daughter and this café here I created for her, an image of a dollhouse we spent countless hours playing with.”

  My heart is breaking when I walk out of Layla’s. I don’t need to reply because Estelle already would have sensed my instant sympathy for her loss. I believe it would have been evidenced in my expression.

  The ignition turns over and as it does I look at the sign reading Layla once more and allow a relieved breath of air to pass my relaxed lips. Maybe I need to start figuring out how to tell Willard.

  You were four years old when you smiled at me in that open paddock and had me running after you to our tree. May, I knew then at the age of six that I would love you forever. It took me twelve years to find the courage to tell you just how much, even though I think you already knew. Thank you for giving me the world, its sounds, its smells, and its beauty. You are the gatekeeper of a perfect existence. Follow the clues, Maybelline. The next one is on the nightstand. When you get to the last one you’ll find me. Willard xx

  Watching my tears roll over the card I found perched on the kitchen table when I got home causes me to shake uncontrollably. Will is the sweetest man I’ve ever known and it’s an understatement to say I’m fearful of the news I have to deliver now. With shaky feet, I locate a single red rose and another card on the nightstand reads:

  Blossoms fall in April and they wither and lose their beauty only until they spring new life once more. You, Maybelline, are not a blossom because you never lose your beauty and you never fall, but you are blooming new life and I’m the happiest man in the world. Your next clue awaits at the place we had our very first, REAL date. Willard xx

  I scream, then scream louder as I clutch Will’s hope in my hands. Why is this happening to me? My tears fall freely as I take my handbag and car keys and climb into the car I’ve driven around in all day. I love Will, I do, but right now I don’t want to play find the treasure. I want to curl up into a tight ball on our bed and be a weak withering blossom that can’t sustain life anymore.

  The roads are hard to see through my hazy tear-filled eyes, but I could drive to Zando’s in my sleep. My favourite Italian restaurant and the place we had our first date is now my destination, but I don’t think I can do this today. Hobbling to the front door has me startling as Danny, the owner of Zando’s, suddenly opens the door wide.

  “Maybelline,” he cheers with a thick Italian accent. “You look more ravishing every time I see you.” The smile plastered across Danny’s plump lips is enough to tell me Will has already spilled our news.

  “Thank you, Danny.” He brushes his lips against my cheek before guiding me with a gentle touch between my shoulder blades to a table set for two. Another single long stem red rose sits in a crystal vase in the middle of the table. The warm ambience of Zando’s always flashes memories of our youth into my mind. I love it here. “Are we dining?” I lift my eyebrows, indicating my question. Danny’s smile only grows impossibly wider.

  “No. I have something for you, though. Wait.” He holds his finger upright before scurrying off.

  Slow breathing brings a gentle calm before unease settles in the pit of my stomach and bile works its way up my throat.

  “Here you go, Maybelline. That Willard of yours is a keeper.” He’s not wrong. On his outstretched hand sits a baby blue envelope. After taking it into my possession, I peel open the seal and pull out a card that reads, “It’s a boy.” But in a pink marker between these words is handwritten, “Maybe.”

  I giggle, because how can I not? It is sweet. Folding the card open, I read:

  Babies need many things, but nothing bought will ever give them the main ingredient…our love. May, your heart is filled with love so pure, our child will never need for anything. Store bought things will find us in plenty, but the sentimental ones will last forever. Your next clue awaits at the place we would go to buy baby gates. Willard xx

  Air whistles through my clenched teeth as I take the rose from the vase and t
he card so beautifully put together for me, then drive the two blocks to Bubaboo. A doorbell chimes when I push it open and approach a counter surrounded by so many different baby items, it has me swallowing hard.

  “May. I’m Lisa. I have something for you.” Her black hair frames her slender face before she ducks her head below the counter.

  “Oh. Okay,” I mumble. How did she know who I am?

  “Here you go.” Lisa smiles, passing over a neatly wrapped box, one covered in light pink paper. A hot pink envelope is attached to the top. Before I get a chance to peel away this envelope, a single long stem rose and a photo of me is placed on top by the assistant.

  Of course, that’s how she knew who I am. My lips tug wide from this realisation. “Thank you,” I whisper through a clogged throat.

  “It’s okay. Your husband is super sweet.”

  “That he is.” I’m blushing. I know I am.

  With the card now out of the envelope, I see the front is the same as the previous one, only this time it’s for a girl. The extra added written word ‘Maybe’ is added in a blue marker. Ripping the paper from the box, I open the lid and inside is a pink and a blue crystal bird. They are beautiful. Eyeing the card once more, I look for the next clue.

  I’ve never met anyone in my life who lives as freely as you do, May. You have wings that soar higher than the sky allows…you know where I am now. Willard xx

  I do. Our tree. Our very special tree.

  Driving the remaining four blocks, I park by the lake and meander along a winding path, taking in the smell of eucalyptus and late afternoon fresh air, my favourite smells. Slipping my shoes from my feet, I leave them where they fall and allow the grass to tickle the soles of my feet, as I continue.

  Flicking my eyes upwards, I see my Willard. He stands tall, filling out a perfectly fitted black suit. He’s also positioned only a few steps away, waiting for me right in front of our personalised gum tree.

  As I fall into his open arms he takes no time enfolding them around my waist. In a whisper, he says, “Well, hello there, pretty lady…I’m married, but I’ll definitely take a hug from you.”

  With a sweet giggle slipping past my lips, I slap weakly at Will’s chest before pursing these same lips while arching my eyebrows. “You’re a cheeky shit.” I continue giggling as I step out of his embrace.

  “I’ve added to our tree, May.”

  “Really?” I beam, cocking my head to the side.

  “Yep. Come see.”

  Running my hand over the engravings on the thick trunk, I find myself starting from the very first one at a lower point on the tree. A drawn heart with W. C. above and M. K. underneath, the very first engraving Will put on our tree for me when he learnt to write confidently at age seven. He was pretty proud of himself even though I told him in a very stern and firm voice, “Yuck, Will, boys have cooties. I don’t like you.” I was five years old when he vandalised this tree for me. A strong-willed five-year-old, you might say. It was the day of Will’s Grandpa Murry’s funeral and he wrote it here while wearing his very first suit.

  Travelling my eyes upwards brings me to the next engraving. ‘Will and May’s very first date.’ I guess I got over the whole cooties thing. This one was left when I was sixteen and Will asked me out to dinner at Zando’s. He wore his very first grown up suit that night. Well, his very first non-funeral suit as he put it. Travelling my fingers up farther, I read our next engraving. “May said yes.” This one was written on our tree the day Will led me on my very first romantic treasure hunt and proposed to me right where I stand now. He wore another suit that day and he filled out that particular suit with a beefier frame.

  Placing my finger over the next engraving, I allow a soft breath to raise my shoulders on inhale, then on exhale they drop down calmly. “Mr. and Mrs. Connors. May said I do.” I close my eyes and picture me in my puffy princess wedding gown and Will looking dashing in his groom’s suit. The entire time Willard engraved our tree, the wedding photographer snapped precious photos. They are still my favourite images in the entire world.

  Opening my eyes, I look at the newest addition. It reads: 1 + 1 = 3 Coming Soon Baby Connors.

  I can’t help it. I burst into an ocean of tears and fall crashing hard to the ground. Quickly, my head is pulled against Will’s chest and the sound of his heart sprinting only causes my tears to fall faster.

  “May, what’s wrong? What’s wrong? Don’t you like it?”

  Shaking my head violently, I howl. I must tell Will now, but I don’t want to.

  “May, did you lose the baby?” His entire body tenses with his trembling voice.

  I continue shaking my head. “No.”

  His worry only intensifies.

  “I…I…can’t have…there will be…Will.” I’m struggling.

  “May, you’re making me worry.”

  “I can’t keep it,” I finally admit breathlessly. My head is tilted by my chin at his hand and through my clouded vision I see my Will, confusion written like a scripture across his face.

  “You’re just scared, May. It will be okay because I will be there through every step.”

  I shake my head once more, using the backs of my hands to wipe away the fresh tears falling. “Will—”

  “May.” His hands caress either side of my face.

  “Will, I’m really sick. I have cancer and it’s bad. I won’t be allowed to carry a baby.”

  Will’s eyes widen as they glaze over with moisture instantly. This moment will forever be planted in my mind, because this is the moment Will trickles water from his beautiful blue eyes out of pure sadness.

  “What?” He’s now breathless.

  I try to wipe away the lines streaking Will’s cheeks, but it’s useless because his tears fall too rapidly.

  “I have cancer, Will.” I know I’m speaking, but I can’t hear my own voice.

  “No.” Will’s head drops and his hands cover up his face. “Fuuuuuccccck!” he roars into his cupped hands. It’s a painful roar and it causes me to suck a quick breath before holding it in.

  As Will leaps to his feet, I fall backwards from his suddenness, and my head lands against lush green grass. Looking at the setting sky, I watch the last of the clouds dance against the pinkish blue skyline and for a split second I pretend this isn’t happening, before forcing my head to turn to my side. Will’s shoes drift farther off into the distance. He’s leaving?

  Bolting upright, I scream, “Willard. Stop.” He doesn’t. He only quickens his pace.

  I run. It hurts so much to do so, but I must get to him. “Will, stop. Please. Stop!” I shout.

  He doesn’t and my heart pains. It shoots stabbing daggers when I try to catch my breath.

  “Will. No. Don’t walk away,” I implore weakly.

  He’s not stopping.

  “Arrrrrggghhhh!” I scream as my leg gives way and I land with a thud against the ground. “Will, help. Help me! Help!” I’m desperate and my voice does not falter in portraying this desperation with an increased volume. Pressing my palms into my eyes, I cry so forcefully my body jolts with the sounds escaping my mouth.

  “Maybelline! Maybelline!” His tone is panicked as he yells my name.

  “Will,” I answer with little air as a strange warmth travels from the top of my head to the tip of my toes. What’s happening? Dizziness spins my head and my body follows…I’m out of control. I don’t fight the feeling, because I can’t, and the darkness provided by the firmness of my palms to my eyes causes me to remain there, even when my hands fall away.

  Slowly my head rolls from left to right. I feel as though I’ve been hit by a bus. My entire body aches. Carefully lifting my eyelids, I’m alerted to a white roof and then a constant beeping noise. Where’s the sunset? Where’s our tree? “Will.” My voice cracks as I speak his name. His soft flawless face appears from above me before my hand is clasped in his.

  “May, you frightened me.”

  “I’m so sorry, Will. I’m so sorry.” I plead fo
r him to allow me mercy for my deceit.

  “I know you are,” he speaks softly, and I watch as his mouth strains with an obvious twitch. Will is still mad. This twitch is a dead giveaway. “Why didn’t you tell me, May? Why didn’t—”

  “I was going to.” I’m quick in my own defence. Still unaware as to where I am, all I know is, wherever it is, Will is here with me.

  “I know everything you’ve been going through. I called Gemma in the ambulance and your doctor…Doctor Brown, I think he said his name was, has shown me the images and reports. You don’t have to tell me now. You don’t have to say anything.”

  But I do. I must tell Will everything. I must explain why I kept this from him. Before I get a chance, Will lays his lips tenderly against mine in a kiss. I’m instantly relieved by this act.

  “I’m sorry, Will.” I sob against his mouth, causing him to pull away.

  “I’m your Willard and you’re my Maybelline. I don’t understand why you kept this from me. I should have been with you, May. I should have been by your side when you got the news.” Will’s lips now quiver when I look at his mouth that only moments ago brought comfort to my own.

  “I wanted to save you, to spare you any heartbreak until I had no choice but to tell you.”

  “It’s my job to save you, May.”

  Closing my eyes, I focus on trying to return my heart back into my chest cavity, because it feels as if it has dropped low into my stomach.

  “May, we are going to organise the paperwork this afternoon for you to have a termination when it is viable to do so. They just had to wait until you woke up to bring them. Tomorrow morning, the biopsy will be done and then we’ll know what we are dealing with. May, we will fight this together.”

  “No,” I huff. “No.” Ripping my hand from Will’s hold, I try to sit upright. It’s difficult at first, but I manage. It’s now I realise I’m in a hospital.

  “You have no choice,” he barks.

  “I do. It’s my body, my baby, and I’m not taking its life, Will. I know now I can’t…I can’t. Don’t make me do this.”