Bondi Beach (19 page)

I love this man
. The man who knocked me out cold at Bondi and had insisted on taking care of me. I still had some things that I needed to sort through for myself, but I couldn’t imagine a better partner. Jack would have been pleased.

It had been a long day – act
ually, a long few days – and I was sure that Martin was tired. Regardless, he undressed me and held my hand while I got into the tub. I closed my eyes and leaned back while he bathed me, running the sponge over my body and rinsing me off when he was done. I felt like a child again.

He helped me from the tub
, and I dried off before we walked into the bedroom.

“Thank you,” I said, climbing into bed
before he tucked me in.

He walked around the bed, took off his clothes, and climbed in
on his side. He moved his body behind mine, putting his arm under my neck and spooning me.

“I love you,
Eva,” he said quietly into my ear. “And, for the record, we already have variety.”

He kissed the back of my neck, and I smiled before falling asleep.

Chapter 3
5

APRIL
6 – APRIL 21

The next few weeks went by without incident
. I felt more at peace about our relationship, not worrying about Martin leaving or what I’d do next in life. Somehow, sharing our insecurities had brought us closer together. I just hoped that we wouldn’t have to do it too often.

Martin had decided to stay
with me until his original May 17
th
departure date. He’d urged me to resume my painting class and to get together with friends – just as I’d do if he hadn’t been there – and he used that time to work. We’d gone on some outings with the outdoors club, been to two concerts and a new gallery opening in Asheville, met friends for dinner, and made it a point of walking up my mountain every day.

I felt like I was creating a new life
, but I wasn’t alone. I would miss Martin when he returned to Sydney but knew that I hadn’t become so dependent on him that I would fall apart when he left. Somehow, his coming into my life had made me stronger, not weaker, and I was grateful for his presence. He was almost always happy – except when problems arose at work – and made a point of making me feel loved. Truly, I had never met a man quite like him.

We’d developed a nice rhythm of living our lives together under the same roof
. With only a month left before his departure, I thought that he might like to see more of the U.S. When I asked him about it, though, he only smiled and kissed me. “I don’t care where I am. As long as we’re together.”

*****

Tess came over for dinner on April 21
st
. John had asked her if she wanted to get back together, and she was feeling conflicted. Martin knew the lay of the land – I was sure the topic would come up so I had felt compelled to fill him in on most of the sordid details.

She showed up at the door in a
khaki jacket, blue jeans, and short brown boots, and we hugged. She made it inside just before the downpour started. “Hi, there,” she said, sounding perky.

“Hey, Tess!  It’s great to see you,” Martin said, giving her a big hug and
taking her jacket.

“Well,
look at you! You’re looking a lot better than the last time I saw you.”

“
Thanks,” he said. “Can I get you something to drink? Hot tea?”

“Oh, t
hat sounds good.” She rubbed her arms. “It’s cold out there!”

“I know,” I told her
. “Every time I think that spring is here, we end up with a cold snap."

Thunder rumbled in the distance
.

"Tess, do you want to sit down?"

“Sure.” We moved over toward the living room, and I sat on the sofa while she sat in a chair. There was a fire in the fireplace that warmed the room.

Martin brought a cup of hot tea over to Tess and sat beside me.

“So,” she started. "What have you two been doing lately?”

We told her
about our trip to the beach, my art class, and Martin's work. However, I knew why she’d come here tonight. “Tess, how are you doing?”

Her demeanor cracked a little
.

Martin excused himself. "I'll go check on dinner."

"Is he always so great?" Tess asked.

"Pretty much.
” I hesitated. "You know, we really don't have to talk about John."

"No. I told you on the phone
that I need to talk to somebody. I also need a guy's perspective. Is Martin okay with that?"

I nodded.

He returned to the room a moment later. “Another twenty minutes or so,” he said sitting back down beside me.

“Thanks.
” I put my hand on his knee. “Tess wants to talk about her relationship with John, and she would love to have a man’s perspective.”

"Okay."
He nodded. “Where do you want to start?”

“
As I told you on the phone, John wants to get back together," she began. “I guess being on his own wasn’t everything he thought it would be.”

“What do you want?"
Martin asked.

“I'm not sure. When he left me, I was really hurt. I cried for two
weeks straight. Well, more like a month. When I finally realized it was over, I also realized that I could restart my life. I kind of felt – free.”

“Tess,” h
is brows furrowed. “Were you happy with him?"

“We were together for twenty-eight
years. Two kids. Three dogs. The house we built together. I saw him through the death of his parents. He saw me through the loss of my mother. I don't think either of us was really happy for the last ten years or so, but we stuck it out."

We weren't, yet, clear on whether Tess wanted to get back together with John
or not. She continued, "Then, a few weeks ago, he saw some program on TV about how couples need variety to keep their marriages interesting.”

Martin glanced at me and back at Tess
. “Did you see it?” she asked.

“For a
few minutes,” I told her not wanting to get into it.

“Anyway, John got all excited because he thought that maybe we were just in a rut
. Maybe we just needed to make our relationship more interesting.” She hesitated before looking straight at Martin. “I just wanted to know, from a man's perspective, is it true?"

Martin raised his eyebrows a little
. “Is what true?” he asked.

“If I become a more interesting person, will John stay?"

“Is John an interesting person?" Martin asked.

She leaned forward as if she was about to say something that she shouldn't. "I'd say that John and I are both a little bit boring."

"Tess," Martin began. I watched as he struggled for the words. "John can't ask anything of you that he isn't willing to do himself. He can't expect you to change yourself to become more interesting to him if he's not willing to do the same for you. It's not even right for him to ask that of you.” Martin leaned forward. "Exactly what does he want you to do?"

“Well,” s
he sat back and looked at us. “He wants to spice things up in the bedroom.”

“Has he been seeing other people?"
Martin asked.

She looked
at me and, then, at Martin. “At least two women that I know of."

Martin said,
“What happened to them?"

“I think they left him."

“Why?"

“He said they wouldn't do what he asked them to."

Martin asked, “Then, why should you?"

A tear rolled down her cheek
. “Because I'm lonely," she whispered.

“
Would you be happier in a bad marriage than no marriage at all?" he asked.

She shook her head not knowing how to answer.
“I don’t know.”

“Tess, once you'
d gotten over the initial shock that John left, were you happy?"

“I was getting that way."

“Were you ever as happy when John was around?"

“
Well, not for a long time,” she whispered and, then, sighed. “I think I have my answer."

I reached forward and squeezed Tess's hand
. “Tess, you don't have to decide anything now. Let's have some dinner, and we can talk more later.”

*****

We did talk more, and Tess realized two things during our conversation. First, she didn’t want to be alone. Second, she didn’t want to go back to John. Regardless of their history together, unless he changed his expectations and changed himself, she would continue to move forward without him.

When she left that night, she seemed to feel more at peace and knew what she
wanted to do. Martin and I both felt sad for her. We loaded the dishwasher and, then, sat in the darkness on the sofa, his arm around my shoulders and his head resting back on the cushions. He sighed, and I put my hand on his knee.

“Tess is a real sweetheart," he said
. “Her husband sounds like a jerk."

I chuckled. "
Yeah. He always seemed to think about himself first. Even if Tess and I were out to dinner or out shopping, John would call to find out what was for dinner or ask her to do something for him. She never had time for herself."

Martin's phone rang.
He reached down and pulled it out of his pocket, looking at the screen. “It’s Janine.”

I only heard Martin's side of the discussion, but I got the general idea
. Flo had been visiting a friend’s home when her shoe got hung up on the hem of her long skirt, and she fell down the steps. At first, they hadn’t thought it was serious – she’d had a bump on the head. However, over the course of the next few hours, her speech had become slurred, and she could hardly walk on her own.

Now,
she was at the hospital in critical condition. It didn't sound good. While Martin was in the grip of the conversation with his sister, I walked into my office to get my laptop and brought it back into the living room. Martin was rummaging through the desk in the kitchen with a pen in his hand looking for some paper. I found some paper and handed to him, and he wrote down the information that Janine gave him about the hospital and Flo’s condition.

I got online and onto Expedia's website where I looked for flights from Charlotte to Brisbane
. The next flight that would get us there the quickest would leave at 11:30 the next morning. Martin was looking over my shoulder and told Janine that he could be there in two days.

I began to book the ticket. Departure city: Charlotte. Destination city: Brisbane. Date: to
morrow. Round trip: nope, one way. Number of passengers: two.

Martin looked at me
.

"I'm coming with you,
" I told him.

His eyes filled with tears
. “Eva and I will be there as soon as we can,” he told Janine. “Yeah,” he nodded, looking at me. “Eva is coming, too.”

Chapter 3
6

APRIL 22

We flew out of Charlotte the following morning. We had a layover in Dallas and arrived in Brisbane about 27 hours after we’d left North Carolina. Because of the time zone change, we arrived in Brisbane two days after we’d left since Australia was already ahead by one day. We caught a taxi at the airport and went straight to the hospital.

Janine was in the waiting room
. As soon as she saw Martin, she flew into his arms, and they stood together as she cried.

“How is she?”
Martin asked softly.

She shook her head.
“She’s not gonna make it, Martin” she said between sobs. “Mom’s dying."

"Jan
ine, I'm so sorry I wasn't here," Martin said, tears rolling down his face.

"Me, too,
" she sniffed, her red face pressed against his chest.

I sat down with our suitcases
. I felt terrible that Martin had been with me and away from his family when they had really needed him especially given how close they all were.

A doctor
walked out of the ICU and over to Janine, who introduced Martin and me. He suggested that Martin go see his mother.

Martin glanced back at me, and I nodded.
“Go.”

He followed the doctor back
into the ICU, and Janine collapsed into the chair beside me and wept. I put my arm around her and talked to her quietly. She looked like she hadn't slept in a couple of days. Apparently, she had been trying to sleep in the waiting room chairs and had hardly managed to get any rest at all. From what I could tell, she hadn’t been eating, either.

Martin emerged about forty-five minutes later, his eyes red
. He’d held his mother’s hand and spoken to her for a little while before she’d managed to open her eyes. He had told her how much he loved her and how sorry he was that he hadn’t gotten there any sooner. She’d smiled at him sweetly before looking up toward the ceiling and drifting away. It was as if she had been waiting for him to come before she would let go. Once he’d been there to say goodbye, she felt that she could leave.

The doctor walked out with Martin
. We could tell when he emerged from the ICU that Flo was gone. Janine was grief stricken and began sobbing. Martin sat down beside her, and the two of them held one another for a long time and cried.

I put my hand on his back. “Martin, I’m so sorry.” He reached over and squeezed my hand, his head still buried in Janine’s neck as she tried to keep from hyperventilating.

The doctor walked over, and I stood up and moved a few feet away to talk with him. He suggested that we would need to make arrangements for the body. I followed the doctor back to Flo’s room to get her things and returned a few minutes later.

Martin appeared by my side. “Mother wanted to be cremated."

I wrapped my arms around him and held him. “Okay. I’ll make the arrangements.” He nodded and returned to Janine.

I got a taxi, and the three of us rode
in relative silence to the house where Flo had lived. It was a little brick house located in a pleasant older neighborhood in a suburb of Brisbane. The taxi driver helped us unload our suitcases, and I paid him before he drove off. Martin walked ahead of me, his arms around Janine. I didn't want him to have to worry about any of the details when he should just be able to grieve.

*****

The rest of the day was dedicated to selecting the funeral home, making arrangements to have the body picked up from the hospital and cremated, and notifying family and friends. Despite being emotionally and physically exhausted, Martin insisted on making all of the telephone calls to family and friends. I worked with the funeral home, the hospital, and the church where Florence's service would be held to arrange the transfer of the body and the church service.

Father Bartholomew stopped by the house that evening to talk with Martin and Janine. Both of them had gone to Catholic school when they were younger
. Although Martin had been the first to quit, Flo had continued to be actively involved in her church. She was a well-respected member of her community and loved by many. There were several people both within and outside of the church who had offered to help in any way that they could.

As
strange as it was to be back in Australia and in an unfamiliar place, my purpose in being here was to support Martin and Janine. During the day, I tried to remain in the background to take care of any business or details that they didn't want to deal with. At night, Martin and I stayed in one of the guest rooms, and I held him as he cried quietly until he fell asleep.