Love Hurts (5 page)

A loud rumble came from the highway. The bus pulled up as the passengers gathered their belongings and began to line up. Jilly pushed past Gregg and took her place. She wouldn’t let him deter her from the path she’d decided on the second she saw the double pink line. There was no way she would have a baby.

Gregg stood off to the side. He watched her, but kept silent. He’d already learned that arguing with her was futile. It only ever set her more resolutely on the path she’d chosen. As the line moved forward, Jilly began to feel the tug-of-war between Gregg and her path. She took a step and felt the counter pull of Gregg’s desire to keep their baby. She took another step, putting all her strength behind her decision. She couldn’t see him anymore, but she felt him behind her, his blue eyes probably now filled with tears.

Jilly reached the step, looked up and saw the driver, a bored expression on his craggy face. She hesitated.
Fuck.
She stepped onto the first step, and was carried the rest of the way up by the impatient passengers. She pushed her way to the middle of the bus and found a seat, dropping her bag on the floor.
Shit. I should have sat on the other side.
She could see Gregg, still standing where she left him. His shoulders drooped and, although he still watched her, she could see grief etched into his face.

Don’t do this to me!
Jilly watched Gregg while the bus filled and people chatted with their seat mates. She had the row to herself, as if she had a communicable disease. In that moment, Jilly knew if she went through with her decision it would be over for them. Gregg would never get past her discarding their child. Their five-year relationship ended now.

Before she could think further, Jilly grabbed her bag and marched back down the aisle. She hesitated at the top of the steps, feeling every look from the passengers boring into her back. Gregg’s hopeful smile pulled her the rest of the way to his side.

“I love you,” he said.

Jilly turned and threw up into the bushes beside him.

She watched as her husband served up her eggs and bacon. She knew without him saying that he’d taken the day off work. He had done it before and would again. He knew when she needed him.
I wonder if Gregg will ever tire of me.

The eggs were perfect. Gregg enjoyed cooking and had natural talent. Another thing he was better at. Jilly stared at her breakfast, tears pooling. She blinked them away before looking up again. All the good things about Gregg only made Jilly’s flaws stand out in stark relief.
How can you both love and hate someone at the same time?

Mamma did.

Jilly’s throat closed, the bite of egg stuck halfway.
Mamma said she loved me but she also hated me. She didn’t have to say it. It showed.
She forced the egg down and placed her fork on her plate. She reached for her glass of orange juice and downed it, then pushed her plate away. She could feel Gregg watching her, but he didn’t say anything. As usual, Matthew’s chatter filled the quiet where her words should have been. Gregg put down his own fork and started clearing the table. Jilly should have helped, but her hands stayed limp in her lap.
What is wrong with me?

Chapter 4

Matthew answered the door and dragged Anna inside. "Auntie, quick, come see what I built."
 

Jilly barely glanced at her when normally they would have laughed together at Matthew always commandeering his aunt the minute she showed up at the house, as though she only ever came to see him. Anna followed the little boy, heart heavy with thoughts of Jilly’s pain. She’d guessed that Jilly would stay home from work. Anna had a deadline for a piece for tomorrow’s paper, but she had it mostly written. Her sister needed her, though, and that was more important.

Gregg had tucked Jilly into bed the minute they’d gotten her home the night before. Anna had hovered, feeling useless in the face of Gregg’s competence. They talked for a few minutes, but his ashen face told her she needed to go home. She wouldn’t let him drive her, instead she walked the two kilometers in her heels and red dress. Her feet were still sore where she’d gotten a few blisters from the new shoes. She did a lot of thinking on that walk.

Anna settled onto the floor in Matthew's room and listened to his explanation of how he built his many-winged and storied Lego house. She let her gaze wander, all the while giving him the expected responses to his monologue.
 

Matthew's room was a little boy's haven. It was all done in red and blue, Spiderman colors, his favorite. He had several figurines from the movie on a shelf over his bed, although Jilly wouldn’t allow him to play with them just yet. He didn't understand ‘collectible,’ but he did understand special. Jilly had painted a huge web on the wall over his bed. On the other wall she’d hung a poster from the Spiderman movie with Tobey Maguire. The dark blue of the carpet against the red of the walls seemed like it should be overwhelming, but Jilly's artistic ability enabled her to carry it off, and the end result was a young boy's fantasy room. It was one of the few places she’d allowed her art free rein since Matthew’s birth.

"Auntie, you're not listening."

"Oh, sorry, Matty. I’m admiring your awesome room."

"Miring?"

Anna smiled and ruffled his hair. "I like it."

He grinned and jumped to his feet. Anna got up much more slowly, and he reached out his arms. "Up," he demanded and Anna obliged.

Jilly looked up as they entered the kitchen. “You ready for some lunch?”

“Sure.”

Matty climbed onto his chair.

“We’re having spaghetti.”

“Yeah! Sgabetti, my favwit.” Matthew banged his spoon on the table and bounced in his chair.

Jilly smiled and put his plate in front of him before he could get too worked up.

Anna sat at the table and tried to keep the thoughts off her face while Jilly served up two more plates. “Gregg at work?” she asked.

“Yeah. He spent the morning at home, but I couldn’t handle his hovering so I made him go in.”

Anna didn’t say anything, but her heart went out to her brother-in-law. He’d gone through a lot with Jilly. She’d have had to beg Rob to stay home with her and even then he’d probably claim he had unmissable appointments.

“Wine?” Jilly asked.

“Sure.”

The cork popped and Matthew grinned. He loved that sound. He mimicked the cork, shouting, “Pop! Pop! Pop!” and Jilly decided to clean him up and send him to his room.
 

“Wow, you eat fast,” Anna told Matthew.

“Yup.”

“You’re like a human vacuum.”

Matthew grinned and started making suction noises. Jilly glared at Anna who just laughed and winked. Matthew could lighten the mood in almost any situation.

They ate in silence once Matthew ran off to his room. The spaghetti had a slightly burned taste. Anna smiled to herself, careful to keep her face lowered. Jilly had never gotten the art of cooking. In that way, she was just like Mamma. Remembered half-cold, half-burned dinners brought her back to their childhood. She had taken over the cooking by the time she was thirteen, if only because she’d gotten tired of eating the same few meals that Mamma had become proficient at preparing. That’s when Anna began to experiment with food and discovered she had a real knack for it. She’d gotten, if not outright thanks, at least a few smiles from Mamma over her meals. Jilly had privately thanked her over and over for rescuing their stomachs.

As Jilly reached for a plate, Anna gasped.

She snatched Jilly’s arm, and before Jilly could react, pulled up her sleeve. They both froze, their eyes on three fresh cuts across the inside of her forearm, intersecting many old scars.

"Jilly,” Anna whispered her name and snapped Jilly out of her stupor.
 

She ripped her arm out of Anna's grasp and glared at her while she slid her sleeve back into place. Her face became as shuttered as an abandoned house and just as forbidding.
 

Anna sighed and wished she knew the magic words to get her sister to open up.
 

Jilly refused to meet Anna's gaze. She stacked the plates, carried them to the sink and loaded them into the dishwasher.

“Jilly?”

“I’m fine. Don’t start.”

“Jill, if you were fine you wouldn’t be cutting again. I’m sorry about what happened last night, but we need to talk about it.”

“Mind your own damn business.” Jilly’s back was a sharp outline.

“It is my business,” Anna said, trying to keep her voice low. “I’m your sister.”

“Well, I’m not your little baby anymore. So it’s not your business.”

The all too familiar pressure began building at the base of Anna’s neck. She had no idea how to get through to her stubborn sister.

Jilly whirled and, like an electric shock, stared at Anna with her dark blue eyes. “You have no idea what’s going on in my head. If you could spend one fucking day in my head, you’d be in a rubber room.”

She pushed off from the counter and stomped into the living room.
 

Anna followed her, feeling at sea. Jilly sat on the sofa and began folding a pile of laundry. Her face was what Mamma used to call “la tormenta,” the storm.

Anna sat on the other side of the sofa and searched her brain for the right words. Jilly’s emotions were often overwhelming—she’d blow her temper at the drop of a hat—but this was different. Anna didn’t know what to say to calm her down.

“Jill, I’m sorry.”

“Oh fuck!”

“What?”

“Don’t start that sorry shit with me, Anna. You’re not sorry. You’re just trying to calm me down. Just say what you mean. Let’s have it out for once.”

Anna sat in stunned silence. There were no rules for this kind of behavior from her sister.

Jilly grabbed a towel from the pile of unfolded laundry on the couch beside Anna. She folded it in several quick snaps and dropped it onto the coffee table in front of them. She folded another and tossed it on top of the other, not even trying to make them line up. Anna’s fingers itched to straighten out the edges until they were perfectly aligned, and she only kept her hands in her lap with intense effort. She looked up to find Jilly watching her, her look accusing as though to say, “See, I’m not the only one with problems.”

Ashamed, Anna looked down at her folded hands.
 

“We’re screwed up, don’t you see that?” Jilly said. “Look what she’s done to us.”

“No. I don’t believe that, I can’t accept that. We moved away, found new lives. Mamma’s not a part of us anymore.” Anna squeezed her hands together until they ached.

Jilly studied Anna. “You can hope all you want, but hoping doesn’t make it true.” As if to punctuate her last words, Jilly snatched a candy dish off the coffee table and hurled it at the fireplace. They both watched, Anna in horror, and Jilly in what looked like fascination, as the thick glass shattered and sprayed all over the carpet.

A squeak of surprise came from the doorway and Anna turned to see Matthew, his mouth hanging open. “What’s wrong, Mummy?” he whispered.

Jilly didn’t even turn. Anna opened her arms to him. “It’s okay, honey. Mummy is just a little upset.”

She carried him to his room and put his pajamas on. “I think it’s time for your nap, pumpkin. Want a story?” Matthew definitely felt better because he giggled and said, “I’m not a punkin, Auntie. Silly.”

“Oops. Your big head fooled me.”

Matthew threw back his head and laughed and almost fell on his butt. Anna tossed him onto the bed where he bounced a few times and then wiggled under the covers. He looked up at her, his tiny face almost overpowered by his huge blue eyes. He had Jilly’s eyes, but without the shadows. Anna drank in his face, knowing the time would pass too quickly and he would no longer want stories from his aunt.

“Spiderman story, Auntie, please.”

“Are you sure?”
Dumb question
.

“Yes.” Matthew had already mastered the art of rolling his eyes.
 

They got comfortable and Anna read him the story, all the while keeping one ear open for more smashing glass. “Auntie? You stopped reading.”

“Sorry.” Anna finished the story and only by sheer determination kept her thoughts where they belonged.

Just as she finished the story, she noticed Matthew snoring, the usual result of a bedtime story. She kissed his soft hair and tucked the comforter around him, smoothing it over his tiny body. She saw a wrinkle and reached to straighten it out, but then she clenched her fist and pulled away.

“Is he okay?” Jilly knelt by the fireplace, picking up shards of glass. The rest of the laundry had been folded and put away. Anna wanted to help, but steered herself instead to the sofa, unwilling to endure any more of Jilly’s looks.

“Yes, he’s asleep.”