“‘I can’t watch you do this to yourself.’
“‘Okay,’ Mary said.
“And that was the end. You were playing with my youngest in the other room. My baby was blue from crying and you were panicked when we got there. Mary took you and left and I had no choice but to calm mine so he could breathe.
“I’ve never forgiven myself,” Aunty Nicole says, “because she was right about some stuff. I was that pathetic person who did everything right in life, like everyone expected and urged me to do. I hated weekends and weeknights because I had no friends who wanted to see me anymore, and your uncle would be either watching TV or on the computer or having a beer. Sadly, the week after, when I knew Mary was serious, I decided to take leave without pay for several weeks and do everything that didn’t have to be done, but I’d been wanting to do for years. It was bittersweet not experiencing it with my sister.”
Aunty Nicole pauses for the briefest moment and I realise my tea is the same temperature as my skin now. That fact engrosses me, and I stare at the top of the cup where the steam has died away. All this time I’ve been lost in my family’s past.
“Mary was so close with our mum and I was forever jealous of that bond. After she died, Mary was hollow. Neither Dad or I could understand her because she wouldn’t let us. It’s just …”
Aunty Nicole leaves that hanging there.
… just too long ago.
… just too painful to deal.
… just too, too much.
She doesn’t say any of that. She finishes, “It’s just such a damn waste.”
I find myself replying, “I know” even though I barely register saying those words. I’m in my own bubble, being tossed and turned by the event that ripped my family apart.
Nicole chucks my tea down the sink after that, much to my insistence that I’ll just drink it cold, or she can warm it up.
“I’ll make a new one. It’s not worth the trouble trying to save.”
As I leave, I’m flooded with so many thoughts about Nicole and Mum and me, because I can see myself following in my grandma and mum’s footsteps, and I’ll be damned if I’m headed that way, knowing I’m worth saving.
• • •
Four days. It’s four days since I saw or spoke to Nate. It’s four minutes to midnight, too. So there’s no use texting him now since it’ll be about ten at night across Australia. Chances are he’ll have to be up early for a shoot or whatever it is he’s doing, and his phone is already on silent for the night.
I open my messages anyway and tap at the screen every minute so it won’t go black. It ends up oily and smudgy from my fingers and I have to wipe it down.
Breathe.
I take a deep breath and repeat to myself to say something. After what I’ve done, I can’t expect him to text first.
Kalli: I’m so stupid. I did it coz I was afraid. Sorry means little now but I’ll show u how much I mean it if u will see me again.
I send that and then agonise over if I used a wrong word, or if I should have just bloody said a proper “sorry”. I watch the screen darken, and tap it so I can watch his incoming message, but it never comes. At 12.20 I shake my head and sit up. Grabbing my phone, I text again:
Kalli: I freaked, but understand now it’s coz I wanna go further with u. I’ve never had a bf before so I thought I was doin what was normal or right. I fkd up so bad, coz in the end I kept imagining Donovan was u the whole time & I know that sounds more fkd but I couldn’t stand the thought of anyone else touching me but u. I successfully made myself feel gross & embarrassed. Feels like fkn crap.
I regret knowing u r the best thing that’s happened to me & I hurt u in the worst way.
I notice the time as I send that text: 12.35. I agonised over those stupid words for a quarter of an hour, and not only do they sound try-hard, but I’m certain he’s sleeping by now and so I could have thought about the words till morning. I change into my flannelettes and tuck my sheets just under my chin. Phone in hand, I grip it close to my body so even if I fall asleep, I’ll hear the beep or feel the buzz.
I’m lying in a sweet, dazed world when I startle and feel for my phone. One new text.
Nate: We’ll talk about it when I’m back.
We could talk about anything and it’d be okay, so long as he’s willing to give me some type of chance.
So long as I never make a damn waste of the best guy that’s ever happened to me. I look at my dark ceiling and tip my head to Scout. Fine, I’m damn afraid of falling for Nate in case I make us fall and fall and fall … somewhere darker than this.