Husband Sit (Husband #1) (36 page)

I
made myself smile. “Mrs. Ferris. Good to see you.” In fact, it
was
good
to see a familiar face. I could feel a kernel of sunshine open up inside me.

“Jillian
Wilson!” She slapped a hand down on the counter and broke into a wide, genuine
grin. “Lordy, you’ve grown up. My Bruce always had a torch for you, you know.”
She was short and stout with toilet brush hair, and had always reminded me of
Beatrix Potter’s
Mrs. Tiggy Winkle.

I
smiled as sheepishly as I could. “Don’t embarrass me, Mrs. Ferris. How is
Bruce?”

“Got
two littlies now. I’m a grandma five times over.”

I
remembered that Bruce had a younger sister, but I couldn’t remember her name.

Before
I could comment on that she said, “What are you in town for? Not to see your
Grandma. I was sorry to hear about her passing.”

“Me
too.”

Neither
of us mentioned the fact that I hadn’t come home for the funeral. I’d never
wanted to see Dakaroo again. I was such a coward.

Clearly,
nothing had changed.

She
took her attention off me to glance at the petrol bowsers where a big rig had
pulled in, and she flicked something on her computer. “Visiting friends, then?”

“Having
some time out. Got sick of the big smoke.”

Her
grin came back. “Good for you, girl. Have you got a place to stay?”

“Not
yet. I’ve just arrived.”

Something
on her console started beeping and she muttered, “Hold your horses,” at the
truckie outside as she pushed buttons until finally it stopped. Then she turned
back to me. “Got a spare room myself. Could use a boarder, helping me make
rent. My Barney passed a few years ago.”

“Oh,
I’m sorry, Mrs. Ferris.”

Something
in her kindly expression made me want to burst into tears and I told myself it
was just tiredness, but she must have sensed something else. She patted my hand
on the counter and then reached under it and pulled out a set of keys. “At
least stay today, until you get sorted.” She slid one off the keyring and put
it down in front of me. “Back door. You remember where I live?”

“Sure.
66 Baker.” I could probably have remembered her phone number if she’d asked me.
Our childhoods in this town had been so simple it felt like every detail was
engraved on my mind.

“Good
girl.” She nodded. “Grab a shower and some sleep. The bed in the front room’s
made up. I’ll be home around midday and we can talk.”

I
nodded, suddenly too choked up to speak.

Why
in the hell had I run away from this place? I was every sort of idiot Finn
imagined me to be, and more.

“See
you then,” I said, and snatched up the key as the door jingled to announce the
arrival of the truckie.

Mrs.
Ferris shouted over my head. “You’re an impatient bastard,” and he laughed out
loud.

“And
you’re a saucy wench. So when are you running away with me?”

I
let myself out and drove to her tiny white weatherboard home with its iron
roof, and managed to get inside before I started crying. Despite the fact that
it was pre-dawn, the inside of the house was baking hot—I’d forgotten how cruel
summers were here. Every surface was covered in ornaments, doilies and her
biscuit tin collection. I threw open casement windows to let in the feeble
breeze, but a storm was brewing so I hurried to look in cupboards for a towel
and had a quick shower. When I was clean, I shut the house up again, in case
the storm didn’t wake me and her worn regency rugs got wet. That wouldn’t be
the best way to thank someone for their hospitality.

Then
I found the front room and crashed onto the dusty single bed, thankful for the
oblivion of exhaustion, but there was no escaping Finn. Even my dreams were
wracked with torturous images of him drowning and me drowning, and neither of
us able to see each other over the huge waves surrounding us. In the dream I
was sure I would die.

Reality,
however, had other plans.

I
lived.

I
took a temporary job in the local child-care centre wiping small bottoms,
dishing out finger-paint and peeling play-dough off miniature tables and
chairs. The kids were rambunctious one minute, and endearingly cute the next,
and probably the best thing to distract me from a broken heart and ticking
biological clock.

A
fortnight in I received an email from Sieu, informing me that they’d organized
a bank loan for
Bohemian Brew
, as Fritha had called it, and no further startup
funds were required.

I
was relieved beyond measure that I’d never have to husband sit again, and
sickened by the thought that even though I’d been horrible to Finn, he would
have organized that to help Fritha and I. So I didn’t fight it. I just signed
the paperwork and sent it back. I knew it would make him feel better, to know I
wasn’t sleeping with strange men. It was the least I could do to make amends
for the pain I’d caused him.

Mrs
Ferris was lovely, but I needed my space, so soon after I got Sieu’s email, I
moved into my own flat. Unfortunately, five weeks later I was still crying
myself to sleep at night over Finn, wondering if Lizzie had birthed his child
yet, and if they were one big happy family, maybe even living in the same
house. Every morning I woke up with a sense of
why am I bothering
because the future looked anything but bright.

I
got emails from Fritha, with pictures of the shop fit out, and despite my
ennui, I followed her Facebook page and
Liked
everything she posted.
Sieu sent me financial statements, and I started answering calls from Ange
who’d moved in with her cousin, was working at a local delicatessen, and had
filed for divorce. Missy Lou and I were on a text-only basis, and that was
okay. I’d formally apologized to her and Ange for bailing that morning when
they both needed moral support, and she’d accepted that. Things were stilted
but that was fairly normal with Louella.

I
did my best not to think of Finn, and I didn’t drink. I didn’t dare, in case I
Googled
him and set the whole ‘healing’ thing back. But he filled my dreams, and
when the kids made me laugh, as they inevitably did, that reminded me of him
too. Every meal I ate reminded me of his cooking, conversation about cricket
reminded me of that first night before we’d even kissed.

In
hindsight, it was easy to see why I’d fallen in love with him. It wasn’t
because of the sex, although the desire between us had been furnace hot. It was
about the everyday moments that had made me feel cherished. The way he fixed
the zipper on my laptop bag when it stuck. And when he found out I was a
vegetarian, he cleared the refrigerator of meat and put it all in the freezer,
which was really thoughtful. 

He
never called a plumber for the tap in the main bathroom, but I suspected that
was because he liked me bathing in his ensuite, even though he was awkward
about it. And after I’d stormed out and left my shampoo there, he told me he’d
stiffed it from time to time, to remind himself of how I smelt. And maybe that
was about sex, but it was also incredibly sweet.

He’d
loved me with desire, and thoughtfulness, and fun and sharing, and no other man
had done that. Finn had always held my hand when we crossed the road, and
waited for me to go first through doorways or into elevators, scoping my ass
for sure! But it was still the sort of old fashioned manners that I adored,
especially when it was clearly second-nature, and not put on to impress.

I
tried hard not to dwell on what I’d lost, but Mrs. Ferris forced me into
catching up with old school friends, and their happy banter with their husbands
and wives couldn’t help but reminded me of all the things I
wouldn’t
be
having in my own life. I felt bad about not visiting the girl’s parents while I
was in town, but I just didn’t feel strong enough for an inquisition, and the
girls understood. Ange specifically told me to stay away from her mother if I
wanted any privacy! So I did.

Brittany
rang me every Sunday when
Jase
was at footy and she was bored, and I
tried to sound interested in their ‘domestic bliss’ in Tottenham, down the
street from his parent’s house. I wanted to imagine that her regular phone
calls were a result of guilt at what she’d put me through, but it was probably
just boredom, as she’d said.

I
didn’t hear from Finn, not even when I stupidly sent him a text that said
I’m
sorry. I didn’t want to hurt you.
Not that I could blame him. Talk about
trite.

Unfortunately,
it was true. I deeply regretted the way I’d treated him, especially that last
horrible outburst. And I loved him enough to want him to be happy. I knew he
never would be with me, because I could never imagine being un-jealous about
Lizzie and her baby. I couldn’t ask him to strip away parts of his life,
particularly the child he would want to interact with as it grew. So I could
only hope he met some rational woman who would accept his situation and not
turn psycho about it like I had.

That
bullshit about
better to have loved and lost?
Well it was bullshit. Most
days I wished I’d never met him, because being without him was miserable.

I
did grow to love the kids I worked with, and I could see they doted on me. A
handful were real little cherubs, and their cuddles and enthusiastic kisses
made me feel as if I was doing good things on the planet, which was a bright
spot in each day. I might not be able to love Finn the way I wanted to, but I
could love them. And I did.

So
things were grinding along slowly and surely—
time was doing its work
—as
Mrs. Ferris would say. And I was okay.

Until
Lizzie arrived.

It was
the end of a work day and I’d let myself into my tiny furnished flat with its
overlarge flat-screen TV, giant recliner and huge fridge—clearly designed for
guys working mining shifts. I was on my way to the shower to wash off the day’s
finger paint when I heard a knock on the door.

That
struck me as unusual, because I hadn’t told anyone my address. I’d always gone
to their houses to protect my privacy. As Mrs. Ferris had said,
You never
know when you might cry
. It was best not to have awkward visitors. So,
maybe a door-to-door salesman?

No.

I
pulled the door open on Lizzie.

I
knew it was her straight away. Short, fluffy, blond hair. Wide blue eyes.
Golden skin and freckles. Tentative smile. I wanted to hate her. And I
particularly wanted to hate the conspicuous belly that poked out between her
cut-off jeans and her singlet. But damn her, she was adorable, like a golden
kitten.

Before
I could open my mouth, Sieu appeared in the doorway and put an arm around Lizzie’s
shoulders, completely ignoring me to say, “I told you to let me go first.”

Lizzie
shook her head like a recalcitrant child, her gaze never straying from mine.
“It’s my story. I’m telling it.”

I
shook my head. “I don’t want to hear it.”

Sieu
threw up her hands. “See. I told you she’d be a bitch and you’d get your
feelings hurt.”

That
stopped me in my tracks. I dealt with pregnant women regularly at work, and
even when delivering unfortunate news about playground mishaps, I tried hard
not to upset them. I didn’t like the idea that their little burdens would be
affected by angst. I certainly didn’t like the idea that Finn’s child would
ever be hurt by me.

So
I put out a hand. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to be rude. But I’m trying to get
over Finn. Dragging all this back up—”

“Lizzie?”
Sieu ignored me to speak to her wife. “Let me handle this.”

“Five
minutes and I’m coming back,” Lizzie told her.

Sieu
put the car keys into her tiny hand. “I parked in the shade. Turn the car on so
you have aircon.”

Little
Lizzie pinned Sieu with a surprisingly hard look. “Make this happen,” she said,
then without glancing at me, she tottered away.

I
folded my arms. “Make what happen?”

Sieu
watched Lizzie walk off, then she turned to face me. “May I come in?” When I
didn’t respond immediately she added, “I’ve just driven six hours from Brisbane
with my pregnant wife. For you. I would appreciate the courtesy of five minutes
of your time.”

That
put things in perspective.

“Sure.”
I pointed at the brown leather recliner. The only chair in the room.

She
walked over to it and sat down. I closed the door and turned to face her,
crossing my arms again.

She
looked every bit as hip as she had the first time I’d seen her, still in her
customary black jeans and black tee-shirt, but her long black hair looked like
it needed a cut, and her eyes, behind her trendy glasses, were tired.

I
opened the conversation with, “Thanks for the paperwork about the business.”

She
nodded. “
Bohemian Brew
is going to be successful. Your friend is savvy
about her market.”

“Good.”
There was a pause before I added, “How did you find me?”

“Facebook
and the electoral roll.”

“You
can search that?”

“Anyone
can.”

I’d
never tried to hide before, and it had never occurred to me that changing my
status from itinerant voter to a voter with an actual address, would come back
to bite me.

But
Sieu didn’t want to linger on that topic. She came right out and said, “If Finn
knew I was here I’d lose my job.”

“Okay.”
I wanted to be unmoved by her statement, but curiosity started stirring.

“He’s
a wreck.” She shook her head, then leant back on the big recliner, like a
liquorice stick in a baseball glove. “I’ve never seen him so despondent, and
we’ve worked together for five years.”

I
swallowed down a sick feeling in my belly and said, “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“You
look no better.”

“Thanks.”
Nice to know my cheery demeanor wasn’t fooling anyone. “So you came here to see
me...?”

“Lizzie
wants to talk to you about Finn. I told her it was pointless. You’re too
pig-headed. But she wants her say.”

“I
see.”

Sieu
stood slowly then, and though her hands were at her sides, there was something
menacing in her stance. Or perhaps it was the way one eye twitched. “If you
upset her…” She nodded slowly. “I think you know how angry I’ll be.”

Okay.
So they were coming with unwanted conversation and now threats. I really wanted
to get my back up about this, but...pregnant woman, six hour drive. It had to
be important. So I held back my snarky comment and said, “Okay, I’ll listen to
Lizzie. I assume it won’t take long. I’ve been invited to dinner tonight.” That
was a lie, but I could always visit one of my school friends if Sieu followed
me. The locals seemed happy with unexpected visitors, even if I didn’t.

But
Sieu was frowning. “A date?”

“
No!
”

Both
her eyebrows rose and I realized too late how appalled I’d sounded—as if it was
the most ridiculous thing in the world to have moved on. When really, that
might have nipped any matchmaking she’d planned in the bud.

Instead,
she said, “Of course. You look as depressed as he does.”

I
drew in a calming breath. “I promise to be nice to Lizzie. The fact that she’s
waddling around with Finn’s baby in her belly, clearly isn’t her fault.”

Okay,
so that was narky.

Predictably,
Sieu arced up. “Listen, sister,” she said, and pointed a finger at me. “If I
can live with that, you sure as hell can. That’s my
wife
out there,” and
she pointed to the door. “And having to wait around while she was inseminated
with some man’s sperm was
way
harder than you hearing about it. So if she
wants to talk, you’ll damned well listen. Got it?”

For
a slender woman, she sure had ‘menacing’ down pat. I just nodded. The last
thing I wanted was detail about Finn’s sperm in Lizzie’s twat. I was sure that
would hurt. But maybe that’s what I needed. Lately I’d had to re-read my
journal to remind myself why I wasn’t crawling on my belly over cut glass to
get to him. He was having a baby with another woman. Hearing the details might
just help me move on.

I
shrugged as nonchalantly as I could. “Bring it.” And I gestured to the door.

Sieu
marched out, glaring at me on the way. I waited at the door while she went to
the rental car and tenderly helped Lizzie out. For such a tiny thing, her belly
was big, and it took her time to make her way back to my door. I let her in and
gestured to the recliner which she slid into with a sigh.

“Cold
water?” I asked and she nodded gratefully. When I had that out of the way, I
returned to the closed door, leant back against it with my arms crossed, and
said, “Let’s get this over with.”

“Do
you love him?”

That’s
not what I’d expected her to say. “More than I’ve ever loved anyone,” I said,
because I couldn’t see any point in lying.

“But...?”

I
pointed at her belly. “You got there first.”

She
stared at me with wide anguished eyes, as though struggling to cope with the
fact that her baby stood between Finn and I, when I’d imagined that was a
no-brainer.

She
didn’t respond so I decided to cut to the chase. “I’m not sure how telling me
the gory details of how you talked Sieu’s boss into getting you pregnant is
going to—”

“He’s
my cousin,” she cut in. “Sieu met him through me.”

“Pardon?”
My mouth wanted to hang open and I struggled to close it. “He’s your cousin.
Ew!
”

“Not
by blood.” She flapped her hands as though to push the idea away. “I was a
foster child in his aunt’s home. He’s like a big brother to me.”

I
was pulling a face but I couldn’t help it. “And he...
Yuk
.”

Her
eyes narrowed determinedly. “I wanted our baby to have genetic material I knew.
Not some random donor. I wanted… family.”

“But
you just said he’s not.” I couldn’t stop myself being reactive. This was just
too bizarre.

“I
know Finn,” she went on firmly. “I’ve been with his aunt since I was six.
That’s when my mother died.”

Lizzie’s
mother died?

The
wind went out of my sails and my
Yuk
reaction faded in the face of our
connection. We were two little girls who’d been shunted to new mothers—her to
Finn’s Aunt, me to my Gran.

“Finn
is perfectly healthy,” she went on, “and he’s also gentle and kind and lovely.”

Tell
me about it.

“…and
I wanted a baby who’d grow up to be gentle and kind and lovely.” She stopped
talking then, and I thought I saw her lips quivering before she added, “I
deserve that baby,” so conflicted, so damned endearing I wanted to step over
there and hug her. “Finn...” She shook her head. “He didn’t want to do it. He
thought it would be weird.”

“It
is weird.”

She
ignored that. “But I talked him into it. No-one else knows he donated the
sperm. People think it was a random donor. I don’t know why he told you.”

Because
he was honest
.

But
I had to say, “He didn’t tell me you were his cousin.”

She
raised an eyebrow. “Considering your
Ew
reaction, he probably did the
right thing.”

I
wasn’t sure about that, but I did know there was a final question that had to be
answered, and I was terrified to ask it. Still, I forced myself to look her
straight in the eye and say, “Can you honestly tell me you’ve never wanted Finn
to be the father of your baby?”

“But
he is,” she answered straight away, in apparent confusion. “We’re not telling
the child he donated the sperm if that’s what you mean?”

“No.
That’s not what I’m asking.”

I
waited her out and she looked puzzled for all of five seconds, as if she was
replaying my question inside her mind looking for meaning. Then her mouth
twisted abruptly in distaste. “Are you saying… me and Finn… a couple?” She
sounded as if I’d just suggested that a cat mate with a dog.

“I
take it that’s a no.”

“That’s
an
Ew, what the hell are you thinking
?” Her voice rose an octave. “What
part of
He’s like a brother to me
did you not understand?
Ew!
”
She even wriggled on the chair, presumably shuddering.

“Okay.”
I held out a hand. “I just thought—”

“No.
Just… 
no
!”

“I’m
sorry.” I’d clearly offended her, so I waited patiently while she calmed down,
taking sips of her water and shivering again, as though to shake off the idea.
Finally I said, “He told me you were bi, and I didn’t realize you’d grown up
together, so I thought…” I shook my head.
I thought the wrong thing.

“That
I’d ditch my wife and take up with Finn?” She looked so incredulous, I finally
realized I could let that fear go. For the second time in my life, I felt my
heart soar like a cork rising through water. Finn would clearly never be on her
relationship radar. But she continued to gaze at me pensively for a long
uncomfortable time before saying, “Did you break up with him because you were
jealous of me?”

There
was zero value in bullshitting to this girl, so I nodded.

“But
he loves
you
,” she said softly. “And he so deserves to be happy.”

“I
know.”

I
just stared at her, trying to work out how to go forward. Now that the crazy
jealousy was unraveled and dismissed, I felt stupid, and a bit lost.

She
gazed back at me, and this time it wasn’t uncomfortable. At last she said, “On
the day of the appointment, Finn didn’t think he could...you know, especially
not when I was in the building waiting to be impregnated. He thought it was…
Ew.
”
Her lips were trembling again as her beautiful smile broke through. “But he did
what I asked him to do. He gave us a baby. And I love him so much for that.”

I
could feel my eyes prickling as a gush of emotion swept over me. That was
so
not the story I’d been imagining. “I’m so happy for you,” I said, with
genuine sentiment. The poor kid deserved whatever joy life brought her,
including a protective wife and a doting ‘big brother’, not to mention the
beautiful baby she was growing. I could only feel happy for her, and not
jealous on any level which was
such
a relief. “Thank you for telling me
that story. Not that I deserve to know, bitch that I am.”