‘Han … ? What date?’
When her face appears from around the fridge door, she looks more worried than anything else. ‘Seriously, Jess. How much did you have last night? I’m started to get a bit worried. It’s not like you to drink like that.’
I know, I know … But I can’t tell Hannah the truth, can I? Firstly, she wouldn’t believe me and, secondly, I’m not sure if I know what the truth is myself. I must look fairly pathetic, because she relents and answers me. ‘May the fourteenth.’
Staring straight ahead, I pull out one of the chairs by the small square dining table and my backside meets it with a thump. I knew she was going to say that, but I also didn’t know she wasgoing to say it at the same time.May the fourteenth. Exactly one year after the day I lived yesterday.How is that possible? What is happening to me?
But now I know exactly what party I’m supposed to be going to. The twins’ birthday is on the eighteenth, so their celebrations often fall around that date. Hannah is watching me as she leans against the counter, sipping her tea. ‘Are you okay? Did you and Luke have a fight?’
I stare ahead, feeling hollow inside. ‘Something like that.’ And the last thing I want to do is go out with Luke this evening. Not just because he’s planned the most stupidly romantic dinner and it would just be too soul-gutting to sit opposite him after all that’s happened, but because I remember exactly what Luke did on this night in 2015 – he asked me to marry him.
I go to work at Dobson’s because I don’t know what else to do, but I hardly get anything done, partly because I’m struggling to remember what used to be routine tasks, but also because I can’t stop checking my phone. I’m waiting for a call I remember getting this afternoon, but I can’t recall the exact timing.
At 2.45 p.m. my phone lights up with my stepmother’s name. Finally! I snatch it up. ‘Hi Lola!’
I know what she’s going to ask, but I can’t interrupt her to let her know that, so I’m going to have to wait for her to spit it out.
‘Jess! Praise Jesus you picked up. I know you often let it go to voicemail when you are at work.’
I usually would. I did last time, if I remember rightly. ‘I’m glad I picked up too,’ I tell her, and I am. I regret not getting closerto Lola and the girls over the years, but I always felt like the fifth wheel when I rocked up to their house and stayed over. They seemed such a perfect family unit on their own. Why would they ever need me to intrude upon it?
And the secrets kept a wall between us too, I realize now. Not my secrets, but Mum’s. Maybe I should have told them how hard it was, how alone I felt, but I think I’d just unconsciously adopted my mother’s proclivity for sweeping everything under the rug. Deny, deny, deny.
‘With God’s grace, you said you may be able to attend the girls’ birthday party this afternoon?’ Lola says hopefully.
‘Of course!’ Even though I’d been a bit irritated Dad and Lola had scheduled it the same day as my one-year anniversary with Luke the first time around. You would have thought a Thursday night would be safe, but I remember something about a teacher training day, meaning their school will be closed tomorrow. ‘Wouldn’t miss it.’ Last time I’d dropped in as a duty visit and fled as soon as possible so I could go and get ready for my big romantic night with Luke. But this is my chance. This is my get-out.
‘We have eight girls for a sleepover – the twins and three friends each – and before that we have pizza and cake, a karaoke session and then a movie to, hopefully, get them all settled before bedtime. My sister was going to help me with it, but she has come down with a stomach bug that has been going round her school.’
Lola’s sister is a teacher, so that makes sense.
‘I wondered … ’ she pauses, and it makes me sad that she’s hesitating to ask for my help ‘… if you could be here to help when we serve the food? I think it’s going to be … What does your father say? I think it’s going to be “mayhem”.’
‘Eight seven-year-olds sounds likea lot,’ I tell her. ‘Why don’t I just stay all the way through?’
‘Oh, I cannot ask you to do that!’
‘Sure you can. And, anyway, you’re not asking, I’m offering.’
‘But are you not celebrating your anniversary with Luke this evening?’
I take a breath. Now’s my opportunity. ‘Yes … but we’ll have been together a year whether we eat a meal together tonight or not. It won’t take anything away from it if we postpone until tomorrow.’
‘No … No, Jess … Honestly. I do not want you to change your plans. There may be someone from church I can ask … ’
There is. Was. Whatever tense we’re supposed to be in, it doesn’t matter. One of the ladies from her Bible study stepped in last time and they all had a whale of a time, adults included. But it doesn’t suit my purposes to let that happen tonight.
‘I’m sure. And don’t feel bad. I’d love to share this moment with my sisters, and besides … ’ I smile to myself as I prepare to roll out one of my husband’s favourite phrases ‘ … family is family.’
Despite Lola’s protests, I assure her I’ll be there to help wrangle the seven-year-olds later, and before I put my phone down, I shoot off a text to Luke. I don’t risk calling him. Too many conflicting emotions I don’t want to feel might be triggered if I do that.
I just want to get through this bizarre dream – or whatever it is – with as little fuss as possible. If I’m going to take a break from my disaster of a life for a few days, then I’m going to do it properly. I’m going to take myself out of the situation that’s causing me all this distress as much as possible. How can I evenbegin to work out how to go forward unless I do that? Besides, I don’t want to feel sad or angry or hopeless or rejected. I don’t want to feel anything at all.
So sorry, I type.Family emergency. I need to help with the twins’ birthday party this evening. Can we do dinner tomorrow instead?
And then I press ‘send’ and let out a huge sigh of relief.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
