I took a sip and placed it down again on the marble island. I began tidying up after Elliot, gathering the Lego blocks and diecast cars and putting them into the toybox in the playroom. I filled the dishwasher and wiped down the countertops. Then when I had everything in its place, I pulled the door closed and went into the living room and pointed the remote at the TV. I flicked through the channels absent-mindedly while scrolling on my phone.
It was after nine when I saw the beams of Hugo’s headlights in the driveway outside. He seemed to be getting later and later every evening. I knew he had a lot on at the minute – he was working on a development that was running over time – but another part of me wondered if he was avoiding me. I felt my stomach clench and I hated how this was now my reaction to my husband returning home from work. I remembered what Julia had said about not attacking him as soon as he came in the door. I was trying so hard since our last session. I had beenbiting my tongue all week, feeling the knots tighten and clench around the muscles in my shoulders and neck. Even though I had only been implementing her advice for a few days, I had to say she was right. Although the atmosphere between us was still strained and we were nowhere near loving, the constant bickering and attacking one another seemed to have calmed down. However, there were no concessions coming from Hugo; he was still working long hours and was never around so unless that changed, I couldn’t see how we’d succeed in the long term.
As I heard his key in the lock and footsteps coming down the hall, I took a deep breath. I stood up and made my way back into the kitchen to him. I placed my wine glass down on the island. ‘Hi there,’ I forced my tone to be light, easy. ‘How was your day?’
‘Busy,’ he said distractedly as he read something on his phone. He never asked me about my day or what I had done. It was as if it never occurred to him that I might have my own life. Not that my day had been very exciting; I had gone to the supermarket after dropping Elliot to playschool, then after I had picked him up, we’d headed into town to get his uniform. We had grabbed a hot chocolate and cookie in a coffee shop before coming home. He just wasn’t interested.
‘I kept dinner for you; I can heat it up if you’re hungry?’ I tried.
‘I’ve already eaten.’
‘No worries,’ I said, lifting my wine glass and taking a long sip. I rested my elbows on the marble countertop and turned in his direction. ‘I brought Elliot into town to get his uniform for St Fintan’s today,’ I went on, to make conversation. ‘I can’t believe how grown-up he looks in it.’
He looked up from his screen. ‘He starts next Monday, isn’t it?’
I nodded. ‘Those years have gone so fast.’
‘In the blink of an eye,’ he agreed. He put his phone in his back pocket, then ran his hands through his wavy hair. ‘I’m going to go have a shower.’
My heart sank. It was almost as if he couldn’t bear to be in the same room as me. I was trying. I was trying so hard but it was one-way traffic – he was making no effort. Had he even listened to what Julia had said? It was as if her words had had no effect on him or he thought they were just something relevant to me. Did he think he was blameless? That our issues were my fault alone? Why was I wasting my time going there every week? I didn’t want to give up on my marriage, I really did not want Elliot to come from a broken home like I had, but was it time to accept that he was never going to change?
‘Oh, by the way,’ I said, desperately scrambling for something to say, for some crumbs of his affection. ‘Elliot asked if you could kiss him goodnight when you came in.’
‘All right,’ he sighed as he headed out the door.
I went back into the pantry and had to open a new bottle to refill my wine glass. As the barley-yellow liquid glugged into the glass, I felt anger writhe inside me like an eel. I took a sip, clenching my fingers tightly around the fine stem of the glass. I went back out to the kitchen, pulled out a chair at the island and plonked myself down on it. I never could have imagined how you could live with another person, share a life with them and yet be so lonely.
7
LIV
I held my phone out in front of me and waited until Finn’s beautiful grin appeared in the frame on my screen. I pressed the button to take the photo but he had run off before I had even finished. I checked to see if I had captured anything remotely decent but his body was a blurry smear of navy across the photo.
‘Come back, Finn,’ I coaxed. ‘Just one more, lovey. Then I promise I’ll leave you alone.’
‘But Mammy, you already gotted one!’ he protested.
‘I know but you’re just so cute,’ I said, ruffling his curly hair. He still wore it long. We had never taken him to a barber and I trimmed it myself because I couldn’t bear to cut it up short like most boys his age. ‘It’s not every day our little boy starts big school. I need one to send to Granny and Grandad and Aunty Linda. Please,’ I begged, clasping my hands together in a mock-prayer. ‘They’ll never speak to me again if I don’t.’
Today was the day that Finn was starting primary school. I was excited for him setting out on a new adventure, gaining a little more independence and making new friends. His little mind was always active and I knew he’d relish the challenge of learning new things but I couldn’t help feeling a bittersweetpang because my baby boy was growing up fast. I had seen how my nieces and nephews entered the classroom as babies in September and after a few weeks, changed and grew so much. I knew it was nature’s way and I needed to let go but it was hard. Perhaps it might not have been as poignant if Finn had had a younger sibling but because he was my first child and my last, everything felt heightened, my feelings intensified. If we didn’t have another baby, every milestone that Finn approached would be our only time to do it. When he had taken his first steps, when he had first called me Mama, his first day at school would be the first and last time I would get to experience it if we didn’t have another baby. I could see why Jay fought so hard to give Finn a brother or sister; it was also a way of holding onto the short years of parenthood for a little bit longer. Time was ticking and the pressure to make a decision felt so heavy on my chest that sometimes, I couldn’t breathe. And at the back of my mind was the reality that it had taken us two years to conceive Finn so even if we decided to go for it, it might not happen for us.
Finn walked back over, giggling. He started to pose with his arms folded across his chest and pouting.
‘Finn, you are a right monkey this morning,’ Jay laughed, scooping him up into his arms and burying his beard into the impossibly soft skin of his neck.
The child convulsed into laughter. ‘Stop, Daddy, stop! It’s too tickly.’
‘I’m not stopping until you let us take a photo. Do you agree?’
‘Okay, Daddy,’ he finally conceded through his giggles.
‘Right, then,’ Jay said as he placed him back down on the floor. ‘Here, you stand in beside him, Liv, and I’ll take it,’ Jay offered.
I walked over, bent down to Finn’s level and put my arm around him.
‘Stand a little more to the right, Liv.’
I did as instructed and grinned at the camera.
