by Kate Forster
Grace paused, and then small fragments of memory of the day before came back to her. She remembered Matthew and his announcement and then coming home with Violetta. She drank the vodka as fast as she could while she was out, then it got hazy after that. There was throwing. And Violetta and Jeff? No, that couldn’t be right she thought.
‘Why did Violetta ask you to come to be with me? Where is she?’ asked Grace, embarrassed that Thea had to babysit a twenty-five year old woman.
Thea walked over and took Grace’s hands. ‘There’s more,’ she said uncertainly.
Grace felt herself become faint. She sat on one of the kitchen stools for support.
‘What?’ she asked.
‘It’s your mom,’ said Thea. ‘She’s awake.’
*
Grace stood outside the door of Birdie’s hospital room, waiting to be allowed in. The doctors were with her, said Spencer, and Violetta was down the hall on her phone.
‘Will she know who I am?’ asked Grace to Spencer.
‘Yes, she will,’ said Spencer gently. ‘She woke up asking for you,’ he added.
Grace rubbed her head, which was thumping from adrenalin and hangover. Why wasn’t she there, she admonished herself. Instead she was blind drunk, rampaging through her apartment, breaking everything in sight. Even a quick scan of her lounge as she was leaving her apartment in a hurry had told her enough about her behaviour.
And Frank hadn’t called. She probably wouldn’t see him again, she thought, and the sadness of everything that had happened threatened to overtake her. She was saved by Jeff coming out of Birdie’s room.
‘Hello, Grace,’ he said. ‘Are you OK?’ he asked, his face filled with concern.
Grace looked at him. Perhaps he was there after all, watching the debacle of her life unravel.
‘I’m OK,’ she said slowly.
He nodded, not wanting to say any more in front of Spencer. ‘Let me know if you need anything,’ he said, and briefly touched her arm.
Grace nodded; his concern moved her and she thought for a moment what a lovely man he was.
‘How is Mom? Can I see her?’ she asked, wanting to take the conversation away from herself.
‘In a moment. I’m not sure what your sisters have told you,’ he started.
‘What?’ asked Grace, worried.
‘Your mom has suffered a little memory lapse. We don’t know if it’s long term. Unfortunately, only time will tell.’
‘What? What doesn’t she remember?’ asked Grace.
‘She doesn’t remember your father,’ said Spencer quietly.
‘That’s no great loss,’ said Grace bitterly.
‘She thinks that she and I are married and I’m your father,’ Spencer continued.
‘What?’
‘I know.’
‘We have recommended you don’t push this at the moment,’ said Jeff. ‘I want to keep her calm.’
Grace nodded her consent and looked at Spencer, as Jeff was taken away by a nurse to attend another patient.
‘Are you serious?’ asked Grace to Spencer.
‘Yes, I know it’s quite odd,’ said Spencer, not looking at Grace.
The door opened again and another doctor and a nurse left the room. ‘You can go in now,’ said the nurse to Grace and Spencer.
Grace entered the room apprehensively, unsure of what state her mother would be in. Birdie was sitting up in bed with a fresh nightgown on, her hair brushed. She looked so normal that Grace burst into tears.
‘Mom,’ she cried, and ran to her mother.
Birdie held her youngest daughter for the longest time. ‘Oh Gracie, Gracie, Gracie,’ she repeated.
Finally she set Grace upright and held her face in her hands. ‘What have you done to yourself, darling?’ she asked.
Grace looked down at herself. What did her mother mean? She was dressed appropriately. Granted, she wasn’t wearing makeup but she didn’t look too bad, she thought.
‘What do you mean, Mom?’ asked Grace like a little girl.
‘Why are you so sad?’ asked Birdie.
Grace leaned against her mother’s breasts and sighed. ‘Are you OK now, Mom?’ Grace asked, sitting up after a while.
‘I think so,’ said Birdie, adjusting her nightgown. ‘I just want to leave here and go home with your father.’
Grace looked at Spencer who had come into the room. He raised his eyebrows slightly.
‘Sure, Mom,’ Grace said, wondering how the hell they were going to deal with this.
Violetta came into the room again. ‘Hi, Mom,’ she said breezily, as though everything was normal.
‘Hello, darling. You look lovely,’ said Birdie.
Violetta was taken aback, Birdie never complimented her. Jeans, silver Converses and a T-shirt with a dancing hot dog on the front was her outfit of the day, the only clean things she could find in her apartment. It was certainly not an outfit Birdie would have liked before her head injury.
‘Thanks, Mom,’ said Violetta.
Birdie smiled at her. ‘You have great style, Violetta. You need to work in fashion.’
Violetta bit her lip to stop herself from laughing. ‘Yeah, Mom. I kind of am at the moment.’
‘Oh lovely. You have a job? Where?’ said Birdie, patting the bed for Violetta to sit down on the other side of Grace.
‘At Pajaro.’
‘I’m not familiar with that company. Are they good?’
Violetta and Grace looked at each other and then to Spencer who interjected. ‘They’re the best, Birdie,’ he said quickly.
‘Of course they are,’ said Birdie. ‘Clever girl, you just needed to find yourself. I knew you would get to where you needed to be eventually,’ she said, satisfied with her daughter’s new career.
As Grace walked from the room Violetta saw tears on her cheeks. She followed and then Carlotta came, leaving Birdie with Spencer. Grace walked into the small waiting room and her sister came in after her.
‘You OK, sweetie?’ asked Carlotta gently.
‘No, I feel fucking terrible,’ said Grace. ‘I should have been there. Instead I was passed out drunk in my bed.’
Carlotta and Violetta looked at each other.
‘I’m sorry, but you aren’t perfect, Grace. She’s fine. She’s OK,’ said Violetta.
‘She asked for me and where was I?’ asked Grace hatefully, as she slumped in her seat.
Violetta sat next to her. ‘Do you know what I was doing when I ignored the calls from Thea about her accident?’
Grace shook her head.
‘Fucking the producer of the stupid reality show I am doing. Nice, huh?’ Violetta’s face was flushed with shame.
Grace looked at her, her eyes wide.
Carlotta sat on the other side. ‘And you know how I said I was going back to Connecticut on the night of the accident?’
Violetta and Grace nodded.
‘I went to a hotel and slept with Berconi.’
‘So none of us are perfect. Your halo slipped, Grace, but I think it makes you a little more interesting,’ said Carlotta.
Violetta started to laugh. ‘We are tragic, all of us.’
‘No, we’re interesting,’ said Carlotta firmly.
And even Grace laughed.
As the sisters left the room and went back to their mother, Violetta saw Jeff waiting for the elevator. She walked up to him. ‘Are we going to ignore the fact that we are mad for each other?’ she asked.
‘It’s not right, I’m treating your mother and while I don’t think it’s not allowed as such, I feel it’s unethical.’
‘So if my mom wasn’t here then you would consider seeing me?’ asked Violetta.
Jeff waited for a moment before he spoke. ‘If your mother wasn’t under my care, then I don’t think you would be remotely interested in me and our paths would never have crossed.’
Violetta scuffed her shoe on the dull carpet. Was he right? She wasn’t so sure of anything any more.
‘You know I
’m right,’ he said softly.
‘But I do like you now,’ she said, looking up at him.
Jeff laughed a little. ‘Your world is so different to mine. TV, parties, magazines, even money. I’m not part of that.’
He walked away from her as Violetta went to speak. Under her breath she said to no one, ‘I’m not a part of that world either.’
But he was gone.
23
Grace was walking from her apartment towards work when Frank walked up beside her.
‘I haven’t heard from you. What is going on, Grace?’ asked Frank.
‘I can’t remember that Frank. I thought you weren’t calling me.’
‘I hear your mom’s awake.’
‘Yes,’ said Grace, as she walked quickly along the footpath, her black Jimmy Choo heels clicking on the ground.
Frank struggled to keep up with her while wheeling his bicycle among the other people.
‘Did I do something wrong?’ he asked desperately. ‘You were so upset and wouldn’t explain.’
Grace turned to him. ‘Listen Frank, I think you are great. You are the greatest, in fact, but I have some stuff going on in my life right now that is crazy and it means I have no room for anyone else.’
‘Not even me?’ asked Frank.
‘I have to be there for my mother,’ said Grace, remembering the guilt she felt about not being at Birdie’s side when she awoke.
Frank stood still for a moment but Grace kept walking. He chased her. ‘It’s because I’m a bike courier, isn’t it? I’m not good enough for you,’ he accused her.
She spun on her heel and faced him. ‘That has nothing to do with it. That’s your issue,’ she said.
‘So you tell me you love me and now you tell me you can’t be with me because you have to be there for your mother. Why can’t you have both? I can be there for you,’ he pleaded.
Grace stopped. ‘OK, it’s because you’re a bike courier. Happy now?’
She hailed a cab, which miraculously stopped. She jumped in and left Frank standing on the sidewalk.
Grace burst into tears in the cab. Facing up to her past was dividing her from Frank. Her first session back with her therapist made her realise how much she had to understand about herself and her life. She couldn’t do that while she was trying to start a new relationship, even her therapist agreed.
As the cab pulled up to Pajaro, she stood outside the building and set her shoulders. Time for work, she said to herself and put on her work smile. Fake it till you make it, she said as the door opened.
Frank stood where Grace had left him on the sidewalk. He pulled out his phone and dialled a number.
‘Chris Koch, please … Chris Koch, Frank Thurlow. I met you at the investor symposium on IT Entrepreneurs. Yes, that’s right. I spoke. I need a meeting. Today? Great. No, offsite would be good. Can you meet me at Soho Coffee in two hours? See you then.’
Frank hung up the phone. Now he would show Grace that he was more than she thought. He jumped on his bike and rode away, his mind whirling as fast as the wheels below him.
24
‘Thanks for helping me,’ said Carlotta as they walked into Chris’s apartment. ‘I really didn’t want to do that by myself.’ She looked at where the blood had been taken for the DNA test.
‘No problem,’ said Chris. ‘I was glad you asked me.’
Alexia wheeled herself into the hallway. ‘Hi,’ she said enthusiastically.
‘Hi yourself,’ said Carlotta, feeling really happy to see her.
‘What are you doing here?’ Alexia asked Carlotta.
‘Your dad rescued me from a shitty day,’ said Carlotta, and then covered her mouth. ‘Sorry, I shouldn’t swear.’
‘Are you kidding me?’ laughed Alexia. ‘I think my first word was shit. Dad is a prolific cusser.’
‘Fuck no,’ said Chris as he came into the room. ‘Hi honey, how are you?’
‘Great, I got my French results. Ninety-seven per cent,’ she boasted.
‘Bien joué!’ said Chris, kissing her head. He turned to Carlotta. ‘She is almost fluent, wants to go to the Sorbonne to study.’
‘Wow,’ said Carlotta. ‘Des felicitations, Alexia, vous devriez être très fier,’ she said in a flawless accent.
‘Merci,’ beamed Alexia.
‘You speak French?’ asked Chris incredulously.
‘Oui. And Italian and Spanish.’
‘Bien joué to you also!’ he said as he walked through the hallway into the living room.
‘Is Nancy here?’ he asked Alexia.
‘Yep, in the kitchen.’
An older woman came into the room. ‘Hi Chris,’ she said, smiling.
‘Nancy, this is Carlotta,’ Chris said, as he went through a pile of mail.
‘Hi Carlotta,’ said Nancy.
‘Hi,’ said Carlotta to the friendly woman.
‘Nancy helps me and Alexia out. Picks Alexia up from school, does some cooking and other things around the place to make sure Social Services don’t come and take my girl away from me,’ he laughed.
Nancy laughed. ‘I’m just gonna help Alexia with her shower and then I will head off. There’s some pasta there on the sink and a sauce I made earlier, just heat it up.’
‘Thanks Nance,’ Chris said, as Nancy bustled around them.
Carlotta put her bag down and looked out the window on the city below. ‘Christmas soon,’ she said.
‘Not for me.’
‘Of course,’ said Carlotta, remembering Chris was Jewish.
‘I do some stuff for Alexia as her mother didn’t convert but mostly we try and go away to a wheelchair friendly place in the sun.’
Carlotta smiled. What would happen this year she thought? Would Birdie be home in time? Would her sisters join Carlotta? So many questions now Birdie was conscious, and the sisters were speaking again.
Things had improved between Chris and Carlotta since their successful trip overseas. She had relied on him more and more, and his quiet strength and pragmatic way of looking at the world helped her calm down and take one day at a time.
‘What did you see in Berconi?’ asked Chris suddenly.
Carlotta shrugged. ‘He was powerful, arrogant, like the horses I like to ride,’ she laughed.
‘He’s a massive fuckwit,’ said Chris. ‘You deserve so much better.’
Carlotta was still. They stared at each other. ‘Like who?’ she asked.
Chris gathered himself. ‘Anyone but him. Wine?’ he offered, as he walked to a cupboard and opened it.
‘No, I don’t think so. My head is foggy enough,’ Carlotta said, wondering why she was here with Chris now. It seemed like a good idea when they left the medical laboratory where she handed in her father’s toothbrush and gave her own DNA sample, but now she wasn’t so sure.
Chris poured her a mineral water and went into the kitchen. She could hear pots and pans rattling and he emerged wearing his lobster oven mitts again. The sight of him, in his shirtsleeves and mitts made Carlotta laugh.
‘What?’ he asked, offended.
‘They really are the silliest oven mitts I have ever seen.’
Chris made snapping noises and walked over and tried to bite her on her arms and back. She fell against him, laughing, and then his arms wrapped around her.
She stood looking at him, slightly taller in her flats.
‘You sure?’ she asked
‘Are you?’ he returned.
‘No,’ she said, smiling.
‘Me neither,’ he said, and kissed her. It was a long, slow, languorous kiss, the type Carlotta loved. His strong arms were around her and she felt herself melt into them.
‘What are we doing?’ she asked into his neck.
‘I really want to fuck you,’ he said quietly, his voice husky with desire.
Carlotta pulled away from him a little. ‘You sure know how to woo a girl.’
Chris stood, his oven mitts still on. ‘Well, I do,’ he said simply.
‘Is that
an offer I can’t refuse?’
‘I’m very good,’ he said, smiling at her as Carlotta laughed a little. ‘It might be just what you need after sleeping with that shocker Berconi.’
Carlotta looked at him and frowned.
‘What? Have I offended you?’ he asked.
Carlotta was silent while she thought.
‘No, it’s just that when you mentioned Berconi, I realised that I was with him because I was lonely. I am still lonely. I don’t have a life. I have relationships with horses. Berconi was there when no one else was. I need to start to do more and meet someone and start my life Chris. Am I attracted to you? Yes. Do I know that you don’t do relationships? Yes. You have Alexia and I understand that she is the most important person in your world and how could you make time for another female when she needs you so much and will forever? She is special and wonderful and you are one hell of a father. I wish I had a father like you. You are amazing and right now, I don’t want to be just fucked by you, I want more from you and I know that won’t happen. So instead I need to find someone who can give me that. I’m sorry.’
And she picked up her bag and left.
Alexia came out in to the hallway, showered and fresh after hearing the door slam. Chris was standing shell shocked in the hallway.
‘What did you say to her, Dad?’ accused Alexia.
‘Nothing, I swear.’
‘Bullshit,’ said Alexia, her hands on her slender hips. ‘You like her, Dad, I know you do. You always talk about her and I think she likes you from what I can see.’
Chris stood in silence as Alexia continued. ‘Don’t be a fuckwit, Dad.’ Chris’s head jerked in her direction at her language. ‘You spend your whole time either at work or with me and one day I won’t be here. I will be in France or wherever and you won’t have anyone and you are too fucking great to be alone. I love Carlotta, she is amazing and you know it, so don’t be a loser. Go after her, OK?’
Chris nodded as Alexia wheeled herself to the hall table and picked up his keys where he had dumped them. ‘Now go, hurry,’ she ordered, and she threw the keys at him.
Chris ran down the stairs, knowing the elevator would take too long, and ran into the street. Where was she? He had forgotten his jacket and was freezing in his shirt. He glanced up the street. It was dark and he could see a sea of heads but not Carlotta’s.