‘You did,’ I told him.
I took the box of Scrabble from the linen closet, wiped a layer of dust away, and as we sat on the floor around the coffee table in front of the open fire, empty wine bottles gathering around us, he spelled out the words: IT HURTS.
I responded, tile by tile: I KNOW.
‘Then why do I do it?’ he questioned.
‘You do it because you can make a difference. Because you are hope when parents have lost all hope.’
But now, as I look at my husband, sitting across the table from me, I want to retract that statement entirely.
Thirty-One
Nick
Even though I’m around children every single day, it takes me forever to decide on a gift. I’ve been wandering through this toy shop for almost forty-five minutes after Paige decided she didn’t want to come with me after all.
‘Is there anything I can help you with?’ asks a shop assistant, a freckly young brunette with her hair swept into a messy bun. ‘Not to rush you, but it’s almost nine o’clock and we’re about to close.’
‘Um, yes, probably.’ I hold up the box of Lego and a science kit. ‘I can’t decide between these.’
‘Are you buying for a boy or a girl?’
‘A boy.’
‘Sure, and how old’s your son?’
‘My uh… no, this isn’t for my son.’ I practically croak the words out and she makes a face like, Why does this guy sound so weird about buying a box of Lego?
She waits for me to say more, and when I don’t answer she prompts me. ‘So how old is he?’
‘Um, he’s six.’
‘Has he got much Lego already?’
‘I’m not really sure.’
‘Oh, then I’d go for the science kit. If he already has one, you can keep the receipt for a full refund or exchange within thirty days.’ She smiles at me, revealing a mouth full of braces and pink elastics.
‘Okay, that’s settled then.’ I put the Lego back and settle on the science kit.
‘Oh, one more thing,’ I ask her as we walk to the counter. ‘Do you offer gift wrapping?’
By the time I make it to Miranda’s place, all the party guests are gone. My shift went overtime and it’s a miracle I’ve been able to show up at all.
‘Nick! I’m so glad you could make it.’
‘Looks like I’m a little late.’
Will enters the kitchen wearing his pyjamas. He steps over a pile of streamers, following a robot that walks and shoots laser beams out of its eyes.
‘Wow,’ I say.
‘Hi, Nick! You missed the cake. It was a space cake. Did you know NASA is going to send the first woman to the moon by 2024?’
Of course I know this. I am a NASA groupie. The question reminds me of Zac in so many ways. He would have loved Will. ‘I did not know that,’ I say, trying to sound impressed.
‘We saved you some cake anyway,’ says Miranda. ‘Did you come straight from work? Are you hungry? I could warm up some sausage rolls.’ She smirks. ‘Or some hot dogs. That’s pretty much all I have left. Unless you want some fairy bread?’
‘I’m fine. Really.’
‘Well, in that case, how about some wine?’
‘Sure,’ I say. ‘Hey, Will, I got you a gift.’
Will scoots over to me and looks up innocently. He extends his arms to accept the box. ‘Thank you, Nick.’
‘You’re welcome.’
He tears the paper away.
‘What did I say about cards first?’ says Miranda, but Will’s not listening.
He turns the box over to inspect it, his eyes brightening. He lets out a gasp. ‘Mum! Look!’
‘Looks like you just nailed Will’s birthday,’ she says to me. ‘What do you say, Will?’
‘Thank you so much. Mum, can I play with it now?’
‘Have you brushed your teeth?’
He bares his teeth to show her.
‘Good work. Fifteen minutes, and then it’s bedtime, okay, sweetheart?’
With that, Will retreats into his bedroom with the science kit, leaving the robot behind.
‘He’s wanted one of them for ages.’ She pulls the cork off a bottle of wine.
‘I won’t stay. It’s Will’s bedtime. I just wanted to bring him his gift. Sorry I couldn’t make it earlier.’
‘It’s fine, Nick.’ She picks up two glasses and hands me one. ‘Now, I’m going to ignore the mess for the time it takes to get through one glass,’ she says, motioning for me to follow her down the hallway. She retreats to the sitting room, the one she mentioned last time is out of bounds for Will. She flops onto the beige Chesterfield and tucks her legs underneath her, straightening her dress, a flowy navy material that falls around her ankles. I sit next to her, maintaining a safe distance, but I can still smell her perfume. Lemon and fresh flowers.
‘So, how are things? Any news? What’s been happening since I last saw you?’
I take a long sip of my wine while my brain tries to figure out where to start. I am sitting next to Miranda, at her son’s birthday party without Paige, and suddenly this is all I seem to be able to focus on. Paige. Risk. An impossible decision. A problem I can’t seem to fix.
‘Nick? Anyone home?’ Miranda waves a hand in front of my face to get my attention.
There’s a brass clock in the wall unit, and in the silence I can hear it ticking. Tick, tick, tick.
Then I feel Miranda’s warm, perfectly manicured hand on mine. She squeezes. ‘What are you dealing with? Is it that bad?’
Yes, I want to tell her. It’s that bad. But just then, Will appears in the doorway and yawns for so long it makes me yawn in response.
‘I’m coming, sweetheart. Just give me five minutes.’
‘Nick, could you read me a story tonight?’
‘I, uh…’ There’s no doubt about it, he’s caught me by surprise. I clear my throat.
‘Please?’
Miranda puts her glass down. ‘I’ll come now, darling.’ She mouths, Sorry, as she squeezes past me.
‘Please can Nick read it? I want to show him the book about the boy who went to space.’
‘Why don’t you bring your book out here and I’ll read it to you?’ I offer.
‘In the special living room?’
‘You don’t have to,’ says Miranda quietly.
‘It’s fine. Really.’
A minute later, Miranda goes back to the kitchen to tidy up and Will returns with no fewer than eight books. He settles himself onto the sofa, crosses his legs and puts a cushion on his lap.
‘Okay, so what are we reading?’
‘This one,’ he says, patting the cover. ‘My dad gave me this one. He used to read it to me every night.’ He hands it to me. ‘Now you can read it to me.’
‘You want me to read it?’
He nods expectantly. ‘I already know all the words.’
I start reading and he stops me after the first page. ‘You’re supposed to make the rocket sounds.’
‘Oh, okay.’
‘Just letting you know.’