by Del, Lissa
“Being under pressure is no excuse to cheat on my wife!” I hiss, hating that she’s letting me off the hook, hating that I’m soaking up her words like a junkie needing a fix.
“Do you remember that weekend you and Ian went to Vegas?”
The abrupt change in topic throws me. “What’s that got to do with it?”
“Evie and I ended up down at Bar One, remember? We called you from the payphone because Evie lost her phone?”
I remember it clearly. It was a few months before our wedding.
“She left it on the bar,” I say, “and someone took it.”
Kat smiles. “She left it in the backseat of a ’93 Mustang. We hitched a ride down to the point with a pair of CU alumni. And before you freak out, no, Evie didn’t screw anyone. She did, however, spend at least four minutes in a lip-lock with a young man named Peter.”
Kat lets that sink in as the world falls away beneath me.
“Why?” I don’t know what else to say.
“Because I dared her to,” Kat answers simply.
I feel a dark, angry rage rise in my chest. “Why are you telling me this? What the hell are you trying to do to me, Kat?”
“I’m telling you because you think Evie is perfect. You believe it so deeply that you think nothing you do will ever be good enough. Every mistake you make, every action you take that doesn’t meet the standard you’ve set for yourself, you perceive as a failure, because you’ve never believed you deserve her.”
“I don’t deserve her,” I whisper through parched lips.
“Yes, you do, Nick. I’ve always known it, Ian’s always known it – why do you think he never tried to take her from you? Because he knew he could never compete with you.” She answers her own question.
My stomach twists. “I think I’m going to be sick.”
“Even Evie knows it, Nick. You’ve spent your life believing you weren’t good enough for her, but the truth is, Evie was always the lucky one.”
I can’t listen to her anymore. I lurch forward, snatching up the wastepaper basket beneath my desk and throw up.
Kat gets to her feet and moves to the door. She sticks her head through it and speaks to Amy in muted tones. I have no idea what she’s saying, but I suspect Amy’s taking the kids outside.
When I’m sure I’m not going to be sick again, I sit upright to find Kat back in her chair. “Feel better?” she asks.
“I don’t know why you’re saying all of this,” I croak.
“I’m saying all of this because Evie is going to die.”
“Don’t…”
Kat ignores me. “And I don’t want you to spend what time you have left trying to live up to your ridiculous expectations. It’s time to enjoy what you have, without pressure, without second- guessing yourself every single minute of every single day.”
“I don’t do that.”
“Yes, you do.”
“I have to tell Evie about Julia.”
“No, you don’t.”
“I can’t lie to her, Kat!”
“Do you really think she doesn’t know?”
It takes only a second for her words to sink in. Oh Jesus! I clap my hand to my mouth, dragging it over my unshaven chin. “I have to explain.”
“You’re not listening to me. You don’t. Evie wouldn’t want you to.”
“How do you know what Evie wants?”
Her smile is smug. “Because I’m her best friend.”
I’m so tired, so very tired and my head is pounding. “What do you expect me to do?” I croak.
“Enjoy your life, Nick.” She waves her hand in the air. “Live, laugh, love. Spend time with Evie, make memories and, when the time comes, let her go. Most importantly: forgive yourself.”
I nod bleakly. “For what happened with Julia?”
Kat shakes her head. “For not being able to save her.”
32
Evie
Ian arrives armed with roses, my least favourite flower, and, even worse, they’re red. Still, I smile as I set them down beside Casey’s messy bunch. It looks even sadder now that the flowers have wilted, but it’s still infinitely more beautiful than Ian’s bouquet.
“You didn’t have to come,” I tell him. “They’re letting me go this afternoon. You could’ve come around to the house.”
He averts his eyes and I know immediately that something’s happened. “Ian?”
“I don’t think I’m welcome at the house right now.”
“What happened?” I ask. What happened, not what did you do, which is what I really want to ask.
“Nick and I got into an argument the other day. We haven’t really spoken since.”
“Nick didn’t mention anything to me.”
“Yeah, well, it wasn’t pretty. I didn’t want to bring it up, but since you asked…” He wanted me to ask, I can tell, but I nod politely and repeat the question.
“What happened?”
“He kicked me out of the house.”
“Nick wouldn’t do that.”
He sits down on the edge of the bed. “Evie, how well do you know this nanny of yours?”
“Julia? As well as you can know someone who spends every minute of every day in your house. Why?”
“It’s just – look, I don’t want to start anything here, but I think something might be going on between them.”
“Between who?” I know exactly who he’s talking about, but if he thinks he’s going to disrespect my husband like this, I’m damned well not going to make it easy for him.
“Nick and Julia.”
“Why would you say that?” Calm, curious, no hint of the anger roiling inside me.
“I don’t know, it’s just a feeling. She shouldn’t be living there, Evie. And Nick shouldn’t have allowed it.”
“Julia has been an amazing help to me, Ian. She’s my friend.”
“She’s not your friend.”
“What did you do?” I ask. “Why did Nick kick you out?”
“I told him exactly what I’m telling you. That I think he’s developing feelings for Julia and that it’s not right that she’s staying in your house while you’re… while you’re here.”
“Let me get this straight,” I say, smoothing the blanket over my legs. “You think that something is going on between Nick and Julia, and that she shouldn’t be there when I’m not?”
“Well, I don’t think she should be there at all, but certainly not alone with Nick.”
“And if something was going on between them, how do you think me being there would make any difference?”
He gapes at me, lost for words.
“If Nick and Julia are set to have an affair I’m pretty sure they’d make it happen whether I’m around or not. I’m not omniscient, Ian, I can’t be everywhere at once.”
“You don’t seriously mean that? You can’t be okay with this?”
“Okay with what?” I ask innocently.
“With your husband lusting after another woman!”
“I don’t believe he is. I’m just pointing out the flaw in your logic. The thing is, Ian, I trust Nick. And if he kicked you out of our house then he must have had a damned good reason.”
Ian recoils but recovers quickly. “Evie, you’re sick. And what is Nick doing? Nothing! He’s not making the tough calls, he’s not making any calls. Instead, he’s letting himself become distracted by a newer, shinier model. If it was me, I would’ve turned this country upside down to get you better. There are specialists, new treatments…”
“Stop!” I yell. “Just shut up and listen, for once in your life! Nick isn’t making the calls because they’re not his to make! This is my life, my body, my decision! Do you really think Nick wouldn’t have dragged me to every oncology specialist across the country if he thought for one second I would go? Do you think he hasn’t begged, sobbed and screamed at me for exactly that reason? Because he has. He has, Ian, and he only stopped when he realised that all it was doing was killing me faster.”
; Ian’s face is a mask of pain, but I don’t care.
“You’ve never understood us,” I continue more calmly, “because you’ve never known what we have. You think that Nick’s screwing up, but he lets me be me. He lets me decide.” My voice breaks but I push forward. “He loves me that much.”
“I can’t listen to this.” Ian gets to his feet, but I’m not finished, and I hurl the words at his back.
“And the fact that you have the nerve to come over here and try to turn me against him after everything you’ve done, is disgusting.”
He whips around to face me. “After everything I’ve done?”
“Do you think Nick doesn’t know how you feel about me?” It’s a sucker-punch, right to his gut. It’s also the first time I’ve ever brought it up and Ian is gobsmacked. “He knows, Ian. He’s always known. And yet, he’s never said anything, never done anything to make you feel uncomfortable. Because he’s a better man. A better man than you could ever be.”
Ian’s jaw clenches, his eyes narrow and I can see he’s trying to salvage a scrap of self-respect. “I don’t want to fight with you. We’re both overwhelmed right now. We should talk later.”
“By all means,” I gesture at the hall, “there’s the door. And Ian,” I add, as he walks toward it. He turns back, his expression a blend of righteous indignation, shame, and hope. “Don’t ever badmouth my husband again or Nick kicking you out will be the least of your worries.”
As if by speaking his name I had summoned him, Nick walks through the door, right into Ian. Their eyes meet. I can’t see the expression on Ian’s face, but Nick’s is smug satisfaction, with a hint of amusement.
“What she said,” he tells Ian, before Ian stalks out.
Nick’s eyes find mine, warm, loving, vindicated. “Wow,” he says, stepping closer to the bed.
“It had to be done,” I say simply. “How long were you listening?”
“I followed him down the hall,” he grins. “I wanted to witness his big reveal.” He sits, taking my hands. “About what he said – about me and Julia… there’s something you need to know.”
I lift my finger to his lips. “Do you love me?”
He nods, the truth molten in his eyes.
“Then get me out of here.”
Ten minutes later, with all my discharge paperwork taken care of, we walk, hand in hand, out of my ward. I spot Doctor Moxley coming down the hall and I pick up the pace, hoping he won’t see us before we round the corner. Only when we’re safely out of sight do I release the breath I’ve been holding. Nick is still smiling. There’s something different about him, something I can’t put my finger on, but I like it. He’s standing taller, his shoulders relaxed, as if a weight’s been lifted from his shoulders, as if he’s discovered a new strength.
“Well, this is a disaster,” I say, as we round another corner and an open empty hallway beckons, nothing but gleaming tiles stretching on forever.
“What is?” he asks, all curiosity and not concern. My heart does a giddy backflip.
“What would we do if the floor was lava?” I tease, squeezing his hand. I give a startled cry of delight as, without any warning, Nick scoops me up into his arms and continues onward, one arm beneath my knees, the other supporting my back. I feel safe, and loved, and strangely, a little bit shy as he carries me determinedly all the way to the car.
When we get home the children are still at school. I make my way upstairs while Nick brings in my bags. Julia’s room is empty. Not a trace of her remains, save for the bottle of perfume on the dresser. I reach for it and bring it to my nose. The citrus and freesia lingers in the room, but other than that there is no sign she was ever here. I hear Nick moving around in the kitchen downstairs and I quietly exit the room, closing the door behind me.
We don’t mention Julia. From what I gather from Dylan, Nick has told the children that she’s gone away for a while, but he didn’t say when she would be back. Dylan seems to think she’s gone on vacation. Casey insists she can’t perfect her princess drawing without her and leaves her book open on the page to pick up when Julia returns. Jesse says nothing, but his glittering eyes follow us around the house as if he’s searching for answers. The house is strangely silent, as if a piece of us is missing, but the change in Nick fills the void. We get through the first day, and the day after that. Kat is helping more with fetching and carrying the kids, as, to my utmost surprise, is Mary-Anne. Mary-Anne still annoys me, but we’ve come to a mutual truce and she doesn’t hang around, for which I’m grateful. As the days go by, Nick and I discover a new-found peace which is built on truth and acceptance and taking each moment as it comes.
33
Nick
I never thought I’d see the day that Kat introduced a man as her boyfriend, or that she’d gaze up at him with such adoration. It’s so out of character that I’d almost feel uncomfortable if she wasn’t so ridiculously happy. It’s a balmy Saturday afternoon and the barbecue is hissing merrily, a dozen burgers on the go. The kids are splashing around in the pool, Casey’s luminous pink water-wings providing a splash of colour in the clear blue. Evie is in a one-piece costume, soaking up the last of the day’s sun on her favourite lounger, the one with the cup holder in the side. Kat is perched on the single chair beside her, a ridiculously floppy hat protecting her face from the effects of a gentle sun.
Evie’s eyes are closed and I don’t know whether she’s simply content, or if the dull drone of Kat’s endless monologue has put her to sleep.
“So,” I ask Jack, the “boyfriend” who is helping me at the barbecue, “how did you and Kat meet?”
I expect him to say through work. Kat meets everyone through work, not that anyone has lasted beyond the first date – the second, if they happened to be spectacular in the sack.
To my surprise, Jack tells me they met at a singles club. I choke on my beer and he laughs.
“Believe me, no one was more surprised than I was. I’ve heard so many horror stories about those sorts of evenings.”
“It’s not that,” I say, giving Kat a sideways glance. She can’t hear us, but, as if she knows we’re talking about her, her sun-shaded face turns toward us. I angle away so she can’t read my lips. “I just never thought Kat was the type to go to things like that. She’s always working and… well, no offence, but she’s never seemed that interested in a relationship.”
“Really?” his blond head rises. “That’s weird.”
“Weird how?”
“She seems ready to me. In fact, I was the one who asked if it might not be too early to meet her friends. She called me right out, asked me if this was just a fling or whether I saw something serious between us.”
“Wow.”
“Yeah,” he laughs again. “I was a bit taken aback, but it made sense, what she said. That life is short and that she didn’t want to waste any more time with someone who didn’t want anything more than sex.”
Life is short. I turn back to where Kat is now refilling Evie’s drink. Unnoticed by Evie, she swivels her chair so that it shields most of Evie’s bald scalp from the sun. I’ve done a lot of thinking since Kat came to see me that day in my office almost a month ago. I’ve come to realise that Kat is a true friend to both Evie and I, and that Ian was neither. I also took heed of her words, letting them fill me with faith and forgiveness. I had decided that day that I would accept what was happening and that none of it was my fault. All that was left to do was enjoy what time I have left with Evie, and to make the most of every precious second. It was easier than I thought it would be and, for the first time in a long time, I feel content.
Sensing the absence of sun, Evie opens one sleepy eye to glare at Kat, but the returning grin is unapologetic. So much love, so much consideration, all cleverly disguised by sarcasm and trickery. All along, Kat was the only one who knew what Evie really needed. She alone understood, and, in her own way, she made it happen. How did I never notice it before?
“Kat is a remarkable woman,” I tell Jack, a
s I flip the burgers. “You better hold on to her.”
“I intend to,” he replies evenly, and I can’t help but smile at the territorial tone in his voice.
We eat on the patio, the warm breeze lifting the edge of the tablecloth lazily.
“Can we swim again?” Jesse asks through his last mouthful of food.
“No, it’s getting cold,” I tell him. “Why don’t you guys go and play upstairs for a bit and leave the adults to talk?”
“Can we play X-box?” Jesse asks, sensing weakness. I look to Evie and she nods.
“Okay, but not for too long.”
Immediately a mad scramble commences as they race upstairs, no doubt to secure the first turn.
Evie sighs, leaning back in her chair. Her appetite is declining, but she managed to eat half a burger and a few slices of salted tomato, one of her favourites. Doctor Moxley isn’t concerned, she told me after her visit last week, so I shove down the lump in my throat and stay quiet.
“We should get a dog,” she says, eying her plate. “I can’t stand to waste so much food.”
“We already have a cat,” I point out, taking her plate and stacking it on top of mine.
“We’ll do those,” Kat says smoothly, giving Jack a pointed look that has him on his feet and gathering up the dishes. Evie giggles as they disappear into the cool depths of the house.