Saving from Monkeys (35 page)

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Authors: Jessie L. Star

BOOK: Saving from Monkeys
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Looking at my mum, though, at her familiar face and genuine expression, the shame and disappointment that sat heavy in my stomach lifted slightly. It was a little thrill, a moment of buoyancy that said 'hey, maybe if you stopped being so dramatic and in your own head about this it could work out.'

And then the most awesome thing in the world happened. I realised I
wanted
the buoyancy. Not that I was leaping to hugs and screams and eternal exoneration from the whole thing for Mum and Elliot straight away, but I had a quiet, absolute feeling that the lightening of the weight in my stomach was a good thing. More than that, it was a knowledge that, with a little bit of time and patience, the hard knot in my gut would keep loosening until it unravelled completely.

My face had an annoying habit of showing exactly what I was feeling and this time was no exception. I wouldn't have thought it was possible
, but Mum squeezed my fingers even tighter and a glimmer of a smile hovered around her lips.

And
there we were, a family finally without secrets. A family with a whole set of issues, sure, but most excitingly, a family with all the potential and intention to do a hell of a lot better by each other in future.

 

~*~

 

"So that's where we're at," I said an hour or so later, picking at some blades of grass and then letting them blow off my palm with the breeze until they drifted up against Nan's gravestone. "Mum and I are on the mend and that's great, but now..."

I looked across at the marble and tried to imagine Nan's face, the way her eyes would be all creased up with laughter even as I tried to tell her something serious.

"So come on then," I said with a good attempt at hearty, "where's my spectral advice? I'd like a cold brush against my cheek and vague, yet meaningful counsel from beyond the grave, please."

I thought I'd been joking, but still I found myself waiting, and hoping, for an answer.
Needless to say, it didn't come. Fine, so it was all me then.

"Because the thing is that he's actually kind of amazing, your grandson. Amazing and really,
exceptionally
irritating. He does this thing where I want to grin and frown and smirk all at the same time, and
no
," I said with a roll of my eyes as if I'd heard her throaty chuckle, "it's not a dirty thing. It's just because he makes me happy and he makes me frustrated and then the smirk...I don't know what that represents, everything in-between I guess. So how can all that be true, and then he can be so clueless?"

I faltered because, actually, it was kind of tricky carrying on a conversation on your
own, especially when you have questions that you really,
really
want answers to.

"Urgh, the two of you are so annoying," I exploded after a lonely, quiet couple of seconds. "Him with his not getting it and you with
your...being dead." A vicious lump caught in my throat and I was barely able to add, "it really sucks."

I gave myself some time to indulge in missing Nan then, not too much, but enough to wring a little of the sadness out of my chest.

"I just want to know how I can lay it out for him, you know?" I said when I'd pulled myself back together. "How can I cut through the stupid stuff so he knows that he's more important than my pride without me feeling like I've just given up on what's important to
me?
Oh...
monkeys
!"

I like to think that somehow the answer had come to me from Nan; it certainly seemed to pop into my head fully formed. No matter, however it had arrived, it was brilliant.

Grabbing my bag, I snatched out a notepad and pen and flipped to a clean page like a woman possessed.

"
OK, Nan," I'd started writing furiously, but I threw her headstone a quick smile before focusing again, "you dictate, I'll write."

 

----------

 

"Oi, Sinclair!"

He'd been
brooding, he wasn't ashamed to admit it. Brooding about his screw ups and her screw ups, and his pride and her pride, until he couldn't think about it anymore and just sat there listlessly staring at the TV. So, when Rox's voice came slicing through the door well after midnight, he was awake, but out of it enough to wonder whether he was hearing things.

"Rox-?"
He asked, starting towards the door, but stopping as she barked,

"No, don't open the door! We need non-face-to-face negotiations first."

He clenched his fists and then pressed the heel of his palms against his eyes in frustration. Seriously, just once he'd like a simple interaction with her.

"You've got to be kidding me," h
e said, not bothering to keep the annoyance out of his voice. "Come on-"

"Please."

He sighed, but he knew that voice; it was the one she'd used when she'd turned up on his doorstep with the image of her ex's penis stuck in her head, the one she used when she was desperately trying to swallow her pride. And, considering where they'd left it, well...

He
continued towards the door, but instead of opening it, he turned, sliding down until he was sitting with his back against the wood.

"Fine, non-face-to-face negotiations."
He stared straight ahead and tried to keep his voice calm. "I assume you want to kick us off?"

In answer he heard a rustle of paper and then a corner of white appeared, sliding under the door next to him. He pulled the page through and opened it up to read,
The following documents the standards and principles of Rox and Elliot (the parties), which, upon agreement, will be binding and absolute.

His eyes travelled down, taking in the number of clauses and subclauses, and then he banged his head back against the door in disbelief.

"You've contractually arranged our relationship?"

"Yes!"

Oh dear Lord, she sounded pleased with herself.

"This is not normal, Rox," he called through the door. "This is a very long way from normal."

"That's because it's genius," she replied, her excitement fairly radiating through the wood. "I was sitting there, trying to get Nan to talk to me from the afterlife so she could tell me how to just let go and be with you, when it hit me. If it's all laid out, and we agree to it, then you and I both know the deal and there'll be no quibbling about what is or isn't a breach of the terms of us."

He took some time with this, turning her words over in his head before asking, "That's what you think I did, then? I breached the terms of us?"

There was a long pause and he wondered if he'd pushed her too far too fast, but then he heard her say quietly, "Yes, but then so did I. You'll note that item number 1 states that we must talk to each other about things that affect us and, further, that it is the responsibility of both parties to listen in a non-judgemental way to what we're being told."

He looked down at the paper in his hand, not quite able to believe it could be as straightforward as that.

"Yeah, OK," he said slowly, "but what about previous breaches?"

Her was voice was slightly mumbled as she replied this time and he didn't need to see her to know it was because she was biting her lip. "All matters pertaining to events that may or may not have occurred previous to the drawing up of this agreement are void."

"Void?" He asked incredulously, turning his head as if he could stare through the door at her. "Just like that?"

"No, not
just
like that! After talking with you and Mum and Nan's decidedly unresponsive ghost, and two mega-long bus trips worth of introspection. Trust me on this, Sinclair, there was no
just
about it."

She wasn't done, he could tell, so he kept his mouth shut and waited for her to finish.
He heard her breathe out heavily and then there was a thump that suggested she'd banged her head back against the door like he had before.

"I understand why you and M
um acted like you did; your motivations were noble and above-board although your execution left something to be desired." She sounded as if she was presenting her findings to a board, but he ignored the delivery so he could concentrate on what she was actually saying. "Right now, however, I can't reconcile the actions of all parties involved, including my own, with how I view myself, and you and us together, so I deem the situation annulled."

"You can do that?" he asked sceptically.

"You'll note under Item 6 that, yes, I can."

Elliot sought out Item 6, remarking, "And 6.2 is a 'no throwing back into each other's faces later' subclause. Nice."

"Right?" She agreed.

His smile at her enthusiasm for her paperwork faded after a few seconds and he tapped his fingers against the 'contract' before saying softly,
"It's not forgiveness, Rox."

"No," she admitted. "Not quite. I'm not completely over all the stuff from when we were
younger and the months you and Mum kept stuff from me.
But
," she was suddenly firm, "I figure that an annulment gives me time to work on that without it being an issue. Because I think I
can
get there, I really do, as long as you understand why it's not something I'm able to immediately arrive at."

He absorbed what she'd said, processing it until he was able to say honestly, "I do. I get it."

"Well, OK then!" He heard a scrabbling that suggested she'd just got to her feet. "I'll draw up a separate contract relating to paying you back every last cent you gave my mum, but for now, I believe these negotiations can proceed to the face-to-face phase."

"Not so fast, let me just grab a pen." He pushed himself off the floor and headed towards his desk, grinning as he heard her release a few squeaks of outrage.

"Seriously, I haven't run my fingers through your floppy hair in almost a fortnight," she called out. "I'm willing to make a verbal agreement binding at this stage."

"Agreement?"
He repeated as he snatched up a pen. "Have you forgotten who my parents are? I'm not agreeing to any contract that I haven't amended to my satisfaction."

She growled some predictably unflattering reply, but he ignored her.

He worked fast to alter Item 4 from them always paying their own individual bill at restaurants to invalidate it on special occasions. With a frown he then scratched out Item 8, which related to a sex ban during exam periods, altogether. That done, he shoved the paper back under the door and waited for her response. There were two beats of silence and then she groaned loudly.

"Fine."

"Fine?" He checked.

"Yes, your amendments are approved. The contract is agreed."

"Thank God for that," he muttered, before yanking open the door and pulling her to him in a way that made Rox squeak "monkeys" and Elliot promise himself he'd never let her go again.

Epilogue
– The Birthday Present and the Happy Forever After

 

Six years later...

 

"Morning, Smelliot!"

I yanked back the curtains letting the crisp early morning light flood into our bedroom.

Elliot, sprawled across the bed in a hot mess of tousled dark hair and tanned shoulders, groaned and threw a pillow in my general direction. I dodged it easily and tutted.

"Is that any way to greet the love of your life," I asked, walking over to prod at his arm, "the nectar of your soul, the spark of your heart, on your birthday?"

He stayed with his face buried in his remaining pillow for a moment, but then slowly rolled over and smiled sleepily up at me in a way that still made my stomach flip over.

"I could say the same to you," he stretched luxuriously and then reached forward to tug gently on the hem of my tank top. "As it's my birthday, I think I deserve a better wake up than that."

"Better?" I reached down to smooth out his crumpled hair flop, settling it more attractively across his forehead. "What are you talking about? That 'throwing back the curtains' thing is my best material."

"Trust me," he murmured, suddenly pulling harder on my top so that I fell down on top of him with a little shriek, "it's really not."

I laughed and cupped his face, pressing my lips to his and wishing him a very thorough good morning. A long drawn out birthday pash was to be expected, but as I felt his hands slide up under my tank top and start to brush up and down my spine, I broke the kiss.

"Hold up," I batted his arms away and sat up, straddling his stomach. "I have to get to work and I want to give you your present first."

"Thanks, this is just what I always wanted." Elliot sat up and undid the tie on my pyjama bottoms with a flourish. "My only complaint is that there's too much wrapping paper..."

"Uh-uh," I grabbed his wrists and gave them a little shake. "Cool it," I told him firmly. "I have an extremely important present to give to you and I need some blood in your brain for it."

He stared at me mutinously for a long moment, but finally he released a heavy sigh and flopped back onto the mattress. "Fine, but know that you've broken my heart."

"I haven't broken your heart," I disagreed, "I've just...disappointed your penis for a little while."

"Oh well, at least the 'for a little while' is encouraging," he said, his eyes bright with laughter. "Where's this present, then?"

"Close your eyes," I instructed him, determined to add a bit of fanfare to the occasion even if he didn't seem all that bothered, "and hold out your hand."

With only the slightest quirk of an eyebrow he did as he was told and I reached into the pocket of my pyjamas to pull out his present. Giving it a quick rub on my top so it shone proudly, I placed it on his waiting palm.

"
OK, open."

Elliot, with all the patience of a six year old on Christmas morning, immediately snapped open his eyes and focused on his outstretched hand. A moment passed, then his brow furrowed and he picked my present up between his thumb and forefinger, bringing it closer to his face for a better look.

"It's a dollar," he said finally.

"Yep," I agreed.

"A one dollar coin."

I nodded. "You're very astute."

His gaze slid past the small gold coin to fix on me and he raised his eyebrows.

"You might be the love of my life, nectar of my soul and the spark of my heart, Rox-honey, but I've got to tell you, you're also a
rubbish gift giver."

"Hey!" I protested, giving his chest a thump with my fist. "Show a little respect, that dollar is the very last one I owe you from your stunt at uni."

He looked back at his present, understanding dawning. "Ah," I saw him swallow almost nervously, "a
symbolic
dollar."

"Exactly.
I've been putting the money into an account since third year so with that plus the interest I've been paying,
plus
the interest the bank's been adding, it's a tidy little sum." I could feel myself glowing as I talked and I wasn't surprised because I was, down to my very core, happy. "So I'm not sure what we should use the money for," I continued, swept away on a joyful wave of financial security, "maybe towards a deposit on a house, or a holi- where are you going?"

His face suddenly set in a determined
line, Elliot had gently lifted me off him, placed me back down on the bed, and headed towards our dresser in the corner.

"Oi!"
I called after him. "We’re having a moment here, what are you doing?"

"It's...there's just something I told myself I'd do as soon as you were happy that you didn't owe me for that uni stuff anymore," he explained, somewhat cryptically, as he started to dig around amongst his t-shirts.

"OK," I said slowly. "I hope it's not 'murder me so you can have all the money to yourself' because I'm in a great mood and that would be a real downer at this stage."

He didn't say anything in response to that, which was fairly unsettling, but the taut muscles in his back told me that something important was going on, so I didn't push it.
I got the explanation I'd been waiting for as soon as he turned around with a small, dark blue ring box clasped in one hand.

"Huh," I said quietly, followed by a much louder, "woah!" as he opened the box to reveal an absolutely
mammoth
diamond swamping a simple silver band.

Without really realising it
, I found that I'd shot to my feet and backed up a couple of steps so I was staring down at Elliot from up on the middle of the bed.

"You alright up there?" He asked, my reaction seeming to go some way in calming him, which was just perverse in my opinion.

"No!" I snapped. "No, I'm
not
alright. Are you out of your mind, Sinclair? You, no
we
, can't afford that. Look at the size of the monkey! What is this? Some latent rich boy thing? Because, I've got news for you, normal people don't wear rings like that! This will bankrupt us, or, worse, get me killed, because if I go walking the streets wearing that on my hand, every man and his dog will mark me as their way to an early retirement and...oh!"

My rant was cut off as Elliot silently gave the 'diamond' a twist and it came off the
band into his hand in a shower of glitter.

"Oh my God, I love it!" I dropped down onto my knees and leant in for a closer look. "Is it one of Nan's novelty ones?" I asked and he nodded.

"It was the most 'engagement-like' one I could find so I thought it'd be appropriate."

"Awesome!" I clapped my hands in excitement, but then sobered as I cottoned on to what was really going on. "Oh, right, so...engagement…
marriage
…" My heart started beating so loudly I could hear the pulse in my ears.

"It's just...is it really
necessary
?" I asked, concentrating on a fleck of glitter on Elliot's hand as I tried to process it. "I love you, you love me, that's been a contractual obligation between us for years now, do we really need
another
document to prove that?"

"Then again..." the memory of Abi, in a bustier as red as Jonah's hair, riding around on her husband's shoulders encouraging everyone to dance at their wedding suddenly made me grin
. "Jonah and Abi's wedding was the best thing I've ever seen in my life. And, let's face it, mum would
love
to see me do the whole big dress palaver, so I guess that's points in its favour…"

I pondered it for several seconds more and then nodded decisively. "Yeah,
OK, I think we should go for it. So how about it? You keen?"

I looked up to see that Elliot had pressed a hand against his forehead and was massaging his temples.
"Rox?" He asked.

"Yeah?"

"Did you just propose to me?"

Oh.

I realised my error and smiled somewhat sheepishly at him. "Um, yeah...did I steal your thunder?"

"Little bit."

I covered my mouth with my hands, trying to hide my sudden fit of the giggles. "Sorry," I managed to gasp out, "you want to try again? I bet you could be a lot more romantic than 'you keen?'"

"Come here," he held a hand out for me and helped me off the bed. "You," he tucked some of my hair back behind my ear and gazed at me, the tiniest smile curling his
lips, "are the oddest person I've ever met."

OK
, maybe he
couldn't
be a lot more romantic...

"Uh...thanks?"

"I wasn't finished," he assured me. "You are also the cleverest, funniest, sweetest person."

That suitably mollified
me and I gave him a little thumbs up with my free hand to let him know so.

"I take your point about weddings being kind of unnecessary," he went on, "especially since we already have our contract, and I don't want you to think I want things to change. I don't. In fact, if you think getting married would change anything about us then don't take this as a proposal, just take it as a morning where I said some nice stuff and showed you Nan's glitter ring. I just..." he paused, apparently looking for the right words, and then suddenly grinned. "Nan would hate this, but I think I'm that dick that likes the idea of saying you're my wife."

He stopped again, as if expecting me to make some sort of comment, but I just stared at him. Elliot loved me, I wasn’t in any doubt about that, but he wasn't the type to go on about it so this sudden rush of words was definitely something new.

"I've been waiting for that money stuff to be over, really, properly over, before I did this because that's not us now," he continued. "That was just the stupid way we kicked stuff off. I don't want us to be defined by a drunken one night stand, or money, or any of that. I want it to be me reaching for you every morning and you losing your mind over
glitter rings, that's what I want."

And then, his piece clearly said, he looked to me, as if there was any doubt about my response.

"You," I pointed a finger at him and found that I was shaking, crying and giggling all at once, "you I want forever."

It wasn't as long as his declaration,
nor as eloquent, but I think it got my point across just as well. Certainly he didn't seem disappointed if the way his face split into a wide grin and he grabbed me up and kissed me was any indication.

"I'm going to wear a different one of Nan's novelty rings every day," I declared as Elliot put me down and slid the glitter ring onto my finger. "Then I'll not only be the top employee at my company, creating higher revenue than anyone else my age in their history, but I'll be doing it in costume jewellery no less! Ha!"

"Yes, yes, you're an employee extraordinaire," Elliot said with a smirk, cool as ice now he'd got that sentimental stuff out the way, "but you're also about to be late."

"
Monkeys
!" I looked across at the clock and then back at him in a torment. "I'm so glad you love me and we're going to get married and everything," I said quickly, "and I don't want to pre-emptively end our newly engaged clinch, but-"

"Go on, then." He released me and gave me a little bump towards the bathroom.

"See, this is why we're good together," I called over my shoulder as I bounded away. "Appreciation of each other's priorities. You better hurry too, birthday boy," I added as I started to the shower and hopped into the cubicle. "Those kids aren't going to teach themselves the horror and misery of war."

"Ah, would that they could." His voice sounded suspiciously close so I wasn't all that surprised when, in the next second, the shower curtain was pulled aside and he climbed in under the water with me.

"Sinclair!" I laughed as he reached past me for the shampoo, ever so conveniently pressing himself against me whilst doing so.

"What?" He asked innocently. "I just thought I'd show you another reason why we're good together. Plus, two showers in one, it's a timesaver."

 

----------

 

It wasn't a timesaver, a fact Rox took great delight in informing him approximately once a second for the rest of the morning.

He didn't care. It was his birthday, what better present than spending some quality time in the shower with his fiancée?

Damn
. His fiancée.

He couldn't stop the smile, just as he couldn't stop himself reaching for Rox as she shot past him holding a piece of toast in one hand and a shoe in the other. A shoe that, he noticed, didn't match the one on her foot.

"No!" She laughed and squirmed out of his grasp, shoving the piece of toast into his mouth as if it was a replacement for her.

"Your other present, by the way," she called over her shoulder as she dug through her shoes, trying to find a pair that matched, "is a boys' weekend away with Jonah to watch the rugby. And so help me, Sinclair," she suddenly whirled around to glare at him where he lounged against the wall eating her toast, "if you so much as
look
at a slingshot..."

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