She said nothing. These were words she’d never expected. Usually, he used veiled threats, he never apologised or admitted fault.
‘I don’t deserve you, being here now,’ he said.
All she could say before she left him to it was, ‘I’ll see you tomorrow.’
Because Maya could only agree with what he’d said. He didn’t deserve her at all. Not then and not now. But she’d do this for Isaac, for the sake of father and son, and because if she didn’t, she knew full well how hard he would make things for her.
8
‘Come on, Eva…’ Noah knew getting irate wasn’t going to help matters but he was tired – new job, new town, surprise parenthood, all of it was taking its toll. All he wanted now was for Eva to eat the cauliflower cheese portion he’d heated up followed by the stewed apples and settle down for the night so he could do the same. He was on the early shift tomorrow and needed a decent sleep.
But it seemed like he was asking for a miracle for Eva to cooperate. He grunted in frustration, Eva let out an ear-piercing wail, went rigid in her highchair, bright red in the face with anger at him, her food, the world.
‘I know how you feel, Eva!’ he yelled before stomping over to the window.
He wasn’t proud of himself for losing it. But some days were easier than others. Some days, he felt in control and on top of things, in a routine. On other days, like today, he didn’t.
He pressed his forehead against the glass and closed his eyes.
Eva was still wailing and he turned to look at her. They were both as helpless here as each other. She wanted this less thanhim, he suspected. She’d lost her mum, she had a poor stand-in parent with him, and here he was being an absolute arse.
He went over to her, unclipped the highchair harness and scooped her up in his arms. ‘I’m sorry, I’m really sorry.’ Her wet cheek, stained with fat tears, pressed against his.
He went out into the kitchen, the cauliflower cheese abandoned, and took out the nice cold portion of stewed apples Geraldine had put in the fridge in a little plastic pot.
A bit calmer, he said, ‘Why don’t we try this one?’ And instead of taking her back to the restrictions of her highchair, he collected a kiddie spoon from the drawer and went outside to the back porch. ‘At least if you smack this away like you did the cauliflower cheese, we’re outside so no clearing up involved.’ The cauliflower cheese had gone all over the arm of the sofa when she’d unceremoniously hit out at the spoon he was holding because she wouldn’t pick it up. Of course, the mixture had run down into the groove of the material too, which meant it would be harder to clean it all off.
Eva could lift up the spoon and feed herself but sometimes Noah had to take the lead and this was one of those times. He settled her on his lap and as the spoon went towards her lips, rather than her turning away or keeping them tightly shut, she opened wide and in went the stewed apples.
He’d never felt such relief, and at something so simple. ‘You like this one? Thank goodness for that.’ He got a second spoonful in before she could change her mind. Her forehead was sweaty, her hair stuck to her skin and her eyes were red from crying. Every now and then, she took in a ragged breath as she slowly calmed down.
As Noah fed Eva, he talked about the cottage that had once belonged to his grandparents, about Dorset, about the town of Whistlestop River. ‘Your mum loved it here; even as a kid, she used to say she’d come back some day. Our parents were forevermoving us around, but your mum said the countryside was the only place to bring up kids. Personally, I thought she was mad, I’m more of a city guy, but sitting out here, I’m inclined to admit she had a point.’
The sun had begun to set, the sky taking on a burnt-orange hue that fell across the river to give it a mystical sheen. The leaves on the trees beyond lost their colour with the fading light and silhouettes of branches danced across the water’s surface. As Eva’s body relaxed against his and she had more of the stewed apples, he looked down at her. ‘I’m not very good at this parenting business, Eva. But for some reason, your mum, my sister, thought she was doing the right thing leaving you with me and I wanted this to work, I really did…’
His voice caught and he stopped talking. It didn’t matter that Eva would have no idea what he was saying; he did, and he hated himself for it. He hated that he was a failure at the role he’d been given to do. He’d had no preparation, neither had Eva, and if it wasn’t for Geraldine and having a job to escape to every day, he was pretty sure he would have totally lost it by now.
When Eva began to fuss again, not long after she finished her apples, he felt his tension rise. What if she was only a fidget away from a full-scale meltdown again? He wasn’t sure he could handle much more. Not tonight.
He rocked her gently; that didn’t work. He stood up and paced with her up and down the porch; that didn’t work either. He sat down again and thought perhaps she wanted to look out to the river like he was rather than her view being of the side of the porch, but by now she was drooling and chewing on her fists.
Noah was close to calling Geraldine to ask what to do when he remembered his brilliant nanny had bought these funny rings she called teething rings and put them in the fridge. He’d seen Eva with one in her mouth before Geraldine left; he’d washedit when she dropped it and popped it back in the fridge before attempting the fiasco that was dinner.
He went into the kitchen and plucked the bright-orange ring from the top shelf next to all the little portions of Eva’s food in their tiny containers. As soon as he handed the ring over, Eva grasped it and put it straight in her mouth.
And she calmed down again.
Reprieve… for now.
‘See what I mean by I’m not very good at this,’ he said as darkness replaced any colour in the sky and the only light came from the wall lights out on the porch. ‘Geraldine knew what to do when I didn’t. She’s the sort of parent you need, not me. Cassie was crazy to think this would work.’
They stayed out on the porch until Eva stopped sucking on the teething ring and her eyelids grew heavy. He’d learnt along the way that at this stage, it was a case of getting in there quick – when a baby was soothed and on the road to slumber, you didn’t push it and make them overtired. He’d done that more than once and always paid the price.
Inside, he changed Eva’s nappy with the lights in the smallest room of the cottage down low, he warmed her a bottle of formula and she drank every last drop, the latter part while she was almost asleep, before he settled her into her cot.
He tiptoed out of the room and pulled the door to behind him.
Another day, another bedtime, another tick on the survival spreadsheet for him.
