Players, Bumps and Cocktail Sausages (7 page)

BOOK: Players, Bumps and Cocktail Sausages
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Cole had stopped drinking when she was pregnant with Everleigh. Well, when they were out together anyway. On lads’ nights out he was as trashed as the rest of us.

I shrugged. “I won’t have to worry about that for a while.”

She put down her pad of scribbled notes and figures. “Oh? I thought you were trying soon.”

Yeah me too.

“No,” I replied. “Postponing for a year.”

Or longer.

“Ah. Okay. I thought you were all set but at least you get more time together without being woken up in the night or at the crack of dawn.”

I smiled tightly. “Yeah.”

She could see right through me. Her eyes narrowed the tiniest bit.

“This wasn’t your decision, was it? I thought it was odd; you’ve been so excited.”

“Abby wants a career.”

“That’s understandable. Believe me, everything is harder with a baby.”

“I’m ready for harder. I want harder. This fu–”

I stopped myself as Oakley’s eyes widened. We both looked over at Everleigh, who was too absorbed in Beauty and the Beast to have heard my near slip up.

“This sucks,” I said quieter. “I hate that she just decided on her own. We were ready. She said she was ready. Christ we’d even picked out the soft lime paint for the damn nursery.” I scratched my forehead.

Why couldn’t I let it go? I was stuck on having a baby. It was on my mind most of the time, driving me crazy.

“Jasper, why are you so desperate for a family? It’s not like either of you are pushing fifty. There’s plenty of time to have children. Trust me, enjoy the peace while you still can!”

My grip on the mug tightened. “I’m not desperate.”

My once sweet little sister raised her eyebrow. “Sure you’re not.”

“I’m not.”

She looked up, pained. What was going through her head?

“Our family was ripped apart in the worst possible way.”

“Oh, fuck that.” I stood up, raising my hands. “I’m not trying to recreate a family because I feel like I’ve lost out on something.”

“If that’s not it then why are you reacting so badly?”

“Because I don’t want to talk about that arsehole,” I hissed and spun around, ready to make a quick exit. But I couldn’t leave. No one else was here, and I didn’t want to leave her alone if she was thinking about what our sorry excuse of a father did to her.

I turned around and sat down. She smiled half-heartedly, eyes watching Everleigh, who was still too into her film to notice us.

“Do you want to talk about him?” I asked, praying she’d say no.

“Not him. I want to talk about you.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not but you’re too stubborn to admit it. Come to therapy with me.”

I laughed and shook my head. “I’ll pass, but thanks.”

“Please? I think it’d be good for you. For both of us. Since the trial that subject’s been pretty closed–”

“And it still is.”

She sighed and her eyebrows knitted together.

“Whatever you say and however much you try to be the strong one that’s not affected by anything, I know how badly it’s hurt you. Jasper, you don’t go through something like that and get to walk away without scars. He was your dad–”

“Shut up, Oakley!” I clenched my fists and took a deep breath. My world turned red, and I wanted nothing more than to smash something up and go get wasted.

“Please come with me. I hate seeing you like this. Just go for a couple times and if it does nothing for you I’ll never mention it again.”

She gave me her pleading look, and I groaned.

“Fine, I’ll give you two sessions and then I’m outta there.”

“Thank you. You’re not going to regret it.”

 

Carol wasn’t what I expected. I thought she’d be in a black suit, notebook and pen in hand and instruct me to sit back on a reclining chair. Her office was relaxed, warm and welcoming with cushions, pictures on the walls and crystal figurines on a bookshelf.

Carol herself was a welcoming person too. She had her long wispy hair pulled back in a bun. She looked as if she was about to bake for us, not tell me where I was going wrong and how to fix my life.

Oakley sat bedside me, leaning back on the sofa with her legs crossed at the knee. She looked the picture of ease while all I could think about was getting the hell out of there.

“So, Oakley tells me she practically had to drag you here,” Carol said, smiling.

I glared at my sister out of the corner of my eye. She wasn’t supposed to tell her that! “I don’t need therapy.”

“What do you need?”

“A drink.”

Carol laughed. “I’ve heard that one before. In our sessions, Oakley has expressed concern for how you’re coping with what happened.”

“I cope fine.”

“He doesn’t,” Oakley said. “He’s too stubborn and selfless to think about what he’s feeling or what he needs. Drives me crazy.”

“Sorry, should I be a selfish prick?”

She frowned and elbowed me in the ribs. “You should be more selfish, yes. I don’t want you to hold it all in because you’re scared of what it’ll do to me and mum. You can talk about him.”

“Why would I want to?” What possible reason could I ever have to think about that man ever again? After everything, I didn’t get why Oakley would want to keep on going over it.

“Because he hurt you too! It wasn’t just me, Jasper. He hurt all of us.”

“Okay,” Carol said, “let’s cool down for a minute.”

I didn’t want to ‘cool down’ I wanted to leave. I scratched my jaw and took a deep breath.

“Jasper, how do you feel about your father?”

“How the fuck do you think?”

Oakley scowled at me, telling me to stop, but I carried on regardless.

“I hate him. He could drop down dead right now, and I’d throw a party.”

Carol said nothing. Oakley lowered her head. She couldn’t tell me she didn’t feel the same.

“Have you grieved for the loss of your father? You’re allowed to miss that part of him; it’s only natural.”

I stared at her. Had she lost it? “He stopped being my father the day he let his sick pervert friend touch my little sister.” I heard Oakley’s gulp, and I took her hand. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I want you to talk about how you feel, remember. I just want you to be okay, Jas.”

I’d not heard her call me Jas in a fucking long time, not since we were really little kids and she used to say it to annoy me. “Well I’m fine so stop worrying.” I looked back to Carol. “She thinks I want kids to recreate a family I lost. Crazy.”

“That doesn’t sound crazy at all. In fact, it’s natural to want a family, Jasper, especially if it’s something you feel you’ve missed out on,” Carol said.

“I have a family.” Beside me, I felt my sister tense, growing frustrated with my lack of cooperation. I had to keep reminding myself that she worried about me and was only trying to help. “Look, I want a family because I want one. Not because I’m trying to fill some hole.”

I should have told her that as excited as I was to have children I was also terrified. I would never hurt my kids the way my father hurt Oakley but what if I hurt them indirectly? If I didn’t protect them from something else? The way I didn’t protect Oakley.

I was haunted by a vision of Oakley as a child, scared, alone and crying every single day. Then when Everleigh was born she was standing right beside her, scared, alone and crying. And when me and Abby were all set to start trying before she changed her mind, a girl that looked half like me and half like Abby joined them.

I didn’t want to admit that out loud and have Carol analyse it, and I didn’t want my sister to know it at all.

Carol nodded. “Good. Oakley mentioned you and your wife have put those plans on hold.”

“Did she now,” I muttered.

Oakley winced. “Sorry. I know I shouldn’t have said anything, but Carol asked if you were trying now so…”

Apparently I featured in Oakley’s sessions a lot. I had no idea how much she worried.

I shook my head. “It’s fine. That’s the point of therapy, right, to talk?”

“Was that a mutual decision, Jasper?” Carol asked.

I looked at my sister and knew she’d not discussed why me and Abby had stopped trying.

“No. Abby was being shady about it until I asked her outright. She wants a career first, and that’s fine.”

“Is it fine?”

Oakley sank back in the sofa, into the background as Carol fired her questions.

“Yes. What’s not fine is her making the decision before discussing it with me. We were all set for Operation Knock Up, then she avoids the conversation and then she tells me it’s on hold.”

“Your anger is understandable but have you considered that it may have been difficult for her to tell you how she was feeling?”

“Maybe. I hadn’t thought of that. We’ve always been able to talk about anything though.”

“What is it?” Carol said, prompting me to explain what my deep frown was about.

“Recently I’ve not been feeling like I can talk to her either.”

“Why do you think that is?”

“I’m not sure. She’s been working a lot more. Sometimes I feel like she’s moving on and changing and I’m still the same guy I was when we got back together.”

“Back together?”

“Yeah, we went out when we were teenagers.”

“How did it end?”

Oakley looked up at me, and I could tell what she was thinking. Maybe Abby was distant because she was cheating again.

“She slept with my friend.”

“But you’re past that now.”

“I am.”

“Am or was? Is that why you don’t feel like you can talk to her any longer? The distance you feel as a result of her focusing on something else is creating doubt in your mind.”

I hated her for being able to talk me round and make me look at something in a new light. Or for just getting the truth out of me from what I didn’t say.

“I guess,” I replied, half sulking. “But it’s not because she’s concentrating on something else and not giving me enough attention. I’m not that self-absorbed.”

“That’s not what I was suggesting.”

“Then I suppose you’re right. A part of me does think she could be seeing someone else and I hate myself for it. When I forgave her, I made a promise to myself that I’d let it go and never throw it back in her face, and until now I haven’t.”

“Have you spoken to her about your fears?”

“No. She has no idea what I’m thinking, and I don’t want to tell her.”

“Why not?”

“Because if I’m wrong she’s going to be crushed.”

Carol nodded once. “And if you’re right you’re going to be crushed.”

“You have a knack for hitting the nail on the head.”

“I hope so,” she replied, “or I’m not doing my job right.”

“So is this the part where you tell me what to do?”

“I can’t do that. What you do with your life is entirely up to you, Jasper. I’m here to listen, help you identify the root cause of your issues and suggest ways you can address them. But I can’t do any of it for you.”

“Alright, what do you suggest?”

“Having an open conversation with your wife is a start.”

Oakley played with her fingers, and I knew she wanted to know Carol’s thoughts on what I should do about the man rotting in prison. He was locked away, so he wasn’t a concern. All I wanted was for things with Abby to go back to normal so we could be happy again.

My father was nothing. My wife was everything.

 

Chapter Eight

 

 

“I’m home, sweetie,” Abby shouted from the front door.

“In the kitchen.”

“Okay. I’m just going for a quick shower then I’ll be down. I’ve had a nightmare of a day, had to fill in for a double period of year ten PE. I’m sweaty and exhausted. Won’t be long.”

Her footsteps thudded up the stairs. I ran my finger around the rim of my mug.

What the fuck is going on?

She never ran straight to the shower from work. What the hell was wrong with me? She’d just explained why. Everyone wanted to shower after exercise. I would, although I would’ve said hello properly and given her a kiss before going.

Here I was all ready to take Carol’s advice and talk to Abby and hopefully get us back on track, and she was running off upstairs to shower.

Since I admitted out loud that I was worried she was cheating, it was constantly in my head.

All I could think was that she had to be cheating. And along with Oakley, Everleigh and my child’s terrified faces all I could see was my wife in the arms of someone else.

“What would you like for dinner?” she asked, kissing the top of my head as she walked by ten minutes later. I was so grateful for her coming back at that moment and stopping the mental images that plagued my mind.

“Since you’ve had a long day why don’t we order Chinese?” I replied.

“Sounds good to me. Shall I order?” she asked, ruffling up her damp, dark blonde hair.

I nodded.

She was being weird, acting as if we were practical strangers. I’d seen her be warmer towards traffic wardens. “Are you okay?” I asked.

“Yeah, fine. Sorry, I just need to relax and forget about work. Why don’t you pour me a glass of wine, and I’ll call the take-away.”

I stood up, eyeing her suspiciously as she unlocked her mobile. She used the house phone to call landlines. Why was she keeping that so close to her? I forced myself to look away and get on with making her a drink. Second-guessing everything she did made me feel like shit.

I trusted her. Nothing was going on. Nothing could be going on because it’d crush me and end us. I wanted our marriage to work. She left the kitchen, but I heard her placing our usual order. My stomach turned. What if she was cheating?

There was no way I could forgive her again. We’d be over. The thought of her with another man was painful. Did he get her fun playfulness and leave me with the withdrawn distant woman?

“Abby,” I called as I heard her say bye.

She stepped out from the living room. “Yes?”

“What’s going on? You’re distant, and it’s more than work.”

She froze for a second and then frowned. “It’s not more. Nothing is wrong. I’m tired, Jasper, that’s all.”

Tired all the time? I didn’t believe that. It was a copout.

BOOK: Players, Bumps and Cocktail Sausages
2.97Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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