I keep reminding myself that it has hardly been any time at all and grief takes time to settle. It’ll always be there but it will settle eventually. I’m still grieving… aren’t I?
Sure I get sad when I think about Caleb, but other than that I don’t feel anything at all. I’m in a constant state of numbness.
******
“I don’t agree,” I add to the conversation between myself, Paula and her friend Daisy who has met us for lunch. “The best unscripted ingredients are a dash of cinnamon and a spoonful of mayonnaise.”
“Codswallop.” Paula waves me off. “Everybody knows if you warm the batter first and add nutmeg it tastes divine.”
Daisy chuckles. “Let’s agree to disagree.”
It feels good to be talking about food again. It feels like it’s been years since I last attended University. In reality it has been a little over four weeks. It’s only been a little over five weeks since the love of my life died and I’m feeling something other than numb.
It’s not happiness or contentedness, but it’s something above the darkness that I’ve succumbed to of late.
It makes me feel guilty.
I was happy over food. If anything could spark an emotion after Caleb’s death, food would be it. Food has always been my passion. Cooking, baking, frying, stewing…the list is endless.
Caleb used to love how excited I became when I successfully made a dish. Any kind. As soon as it was done, I’d practically jump for joy, force it down his throat and pant at his feet until he told me how good it was. Sometimes I wondered if he just told me it was good so I wouldn’t get disappointed.
Caleb wouldn’t do that. He knew how important honesty was to me, especially when it came to my craft. I’d only learn by trial and error when experimenting.
“What do you think?” Daisy asks me.
I blink a few times and shake my head. “Sorry, I was miles away.”
“We were talking about Nathan. Paula was just informing me of his rude behaviour towards her the other day. Is he like that with you?” Daisy asks.
I shake my head. “He mostly just keeps to himself.”
“It’s nice that he’s taken you in after Caleb’s unfortunate demise,” she says quietly and I want to walk away from this conversation. Like now. “It’s almost unheard of in this day and age. It’s very gallant of him.”
“Especially considering his parents. Ugh. I had the pleasure of meeting his mother once. Foul woman, absolutely foul.” Paula adds with a cluck of disgust. “She used to be awful to those boys. They weren’t allowed to do anything wrong.”
“They grew up in the city,” I say, but it’s more of a question than anything else. “How’d you know this?”
Daisy leans in, eager to tell the gossip. “They did but Nathan also spent a lot of time here. The house you’re in now is the family home. It’s Caleb’s grandfather’s home. They came back and forth quite a bit. She usually dropped Nathan off when she’d had enough, which was more often than not.”
“Yes,” Paula agrees, also leaning forward. “Nathan was unruly. He was a menace. Always causing trouble, always speaking badly to his grandfather. Caleb however, now he was the happy one although we didn’t see too much of him growing up. Always daydreaming, always smiling and playing. Such a lovely boy, he didn’t spend nearly as much time with his grandfather as Nathan did though.”
“If Nathan hated his grandfather so much, why’d he claim his house?” Daisy asks the question I was thinking but wasn’t going to ask.
Paula shrugs. “I’ve no idea. What’s it like inside? Are there still portraits on the walls?” I think about it for a moment. Now that I am, I realise I haven’t seen a single picture anywhere. How odd.
“Hmm,” I agree and sip my decaf latte. “So, what is there to do around here?”
“Not much.” And just like that the conversation changes to better things.
Chapter Eleven
It’s the morning after my outing with Paula. I haven’t seen Nathan for a few days. He came back on the Tuesday morning as he said he would and I borrowed his car to go out, but that’s the extent of our conversation. I’m not sure what’s wrong with me right now. I’m in such a bad mood. I have been since I woke up thirty minutes ago. Even the fact that I can eat whatever I want for breakfast again without throwing it up doesn’t cheer me up.
My movements are heavy because even my body is angry.
I stomp into the kitchen and slam cupboards as I prepare food. Even the mushrooms are pissing me off. Stupid food. Stupid house. Why is everything hurting? I don’t mean my body, I mean my mind.
“Morning,” Nathan says cautiously. I’m ignoring him. I’m ignoring everybody. “This looks good.”
It tastes like ash and brimstone. What would he know?
“Seriously good.” He moans a little and takes another bite.
Why is he talking to me?
I eat another mouthful of ash flavoured food. Huh, Jeanine is here. I didn’t notice. She eyes me warily but I barely glance at her as I pick up my plate and walk past. I do notice them both exchange a look of concern, which just makes me worse.
They don’t know me, but I guarantee when my back is turned they’ll have quiet words and Nathan will probably blame me and say its hormones. I’m not hormonal. I’m tired, my back’s hurting, I can’t get comfortable… and oh yeah. Caleb is dead!
“Hey, my darling,” Jeanine says and stands by the counter as I wash the dishes. “I think that plate’s clean now.”
What would she know? Are her hands in the water? No. It’ll be clean when I say it’s clean.
“Are you okay?”
I nod and scrub the plate some more. Jeanine reaches into the hot water and takes the plate from my hand. “I’ll do this. Why don’t you go and rest?”
“I don’t want to,” I snap, instantly feeling guilt but also not caring much.
“Okay, why don’t you bake or something?” Her warm eyes search my profile and I feel her concern piercing my bubble of fury.
“I just want to be alone,” I say quietly and brush past her. “Sorry.”
Their hushed tones follow me up the stairs. I can’t hear what they’re saying and honestly I don’t care. As soon as I enter my room, I put the photo frame face down without even looking at it. I can’t deal with your smile today, Caleb. Life isn’t always a fucking joy. Clearly.
Look at me. I’m a mess. Pining for a man that’s ash on his mother’s mantelpiece.
Not to mention that I’m in a house that doesn’t belong to me, using money that I didn’t earn, with a man who practically hates me, because of reasons I don’t fucking know.
There’s a knock at my door.
“Go away.”
“Is this mood due to something I’ve done?” Nathan starts but I’m not in the mood to hear him.
I open the door, my eyes narrowed and hopefully shooting daggers. “Not everything is about you. Leave me alone.” The door slams with a little more force than I intended.