Chapter 16
Kyle
Now
Somehow, I make it home, even though I have no memory of driving. I head upstairs, wanting to crawl into bed, then I remember Jeff and the crew are still working in the ensuite. I need them out of the house. Blinking away tears, I try to compose myself before walking into the bathroom.
“Sorry guys, family emergency. You’ll have to finish up for the day.” They all turn and stare, so I figure I must look as shit as I feel.
“No worries, mate. We’ll just pack up and get out of here,” Jeff says. “I hope everything’s okay, man.”
“Yeah, can you just do it fast?” I step out of the ensuite and wait, listening to Jeff make a phone call.
“Hey Brendan, just letting you know we’re finishing up at the Johnson house early today. The client has an emergency.” There’s silence while Bren replies, then: “Sure thing, boss. See you Monday.”
I follow them downstairs to see them out, then return to my bedroom, crawling into bed and hiding under the covers.
I sob. I’m not coping. I’ve been spiralling for days, agitated and hyper, my mind jumping from one thought to the next.
It’s all been too much lately. Bren coming back into my life, deciding to study, realising I’ve let Lu down, and, on top of all that, I still need to find a divorce lawyer.
I really want to call my brother, needing a voice of reason, but I doubt he’d have any sympathy, and I can’t blame him.
There’s blood on my shirt sleeve—Bren’s blood—and hasn’t there already been too much blood shed between us? Did our love only ever cause pain?
Snatches of sickening memories stain the back of my eyes.
Maybe Bren’s right and we were never good for each other.
Not back then and certainly not now. What fucking right do I have to do this to him, anyway?
To push myself on a man that has clearly moved on and doesn’t feel the same.
A happily married man. I need to stop. I owe him that much at least.
Shoving the doona down, I blink as my eyes adjust to the light, then I sit up and call my doctor’s office. “Hi Mary, it’s Kyle Johnson. I have an appointment booked with Dr. Riley in four weeks, but I really need to see her sooner.”
“Kyle, you don’t sound too good. How urgent is it?”
“Not sure,” I admit. “I’m not making good choices and I’m having trouble sleeping.”
Mary puts me on hold, and I take the chance to blow my nose and wipe my eyes.
Mary is back on the line within a minute. “Kyle, the best Dr. Riley can do is Monday week at 5:00 PM. She apologises for not being able to see you sooner, but she has an interstate conference next week. She wanted me to check that you’ll contact emergency services if you need to.”
“I will, I promise. Thank you and please thank Dr. Riley too. See you Monday week.”
After ending the call, I check the time. Thank God another parent is dropping Lu home after dance class today. I curl up under the doona again and try to block everything out.
I’m being shaken.
“Dad? Are you okay?”
Forcing my eyes open, Lu slowly comes into focus. She’s seated on the edge of the bed, looking down at me with concern.
“Dad, are things bad? Are you having a depressive episode?”
It’s been so long since she’s spoken to me like this—with tenderness and patience. Lu would’ve only been nine or ten years old the last time I experienced a full-blown depressive episode. For years I’ve been existing in a state of numbness, walking through my days without really feeling anything.
But this feels different. I had been more concerned about mania—up until now.
“I don’t know, pumpkin,” I say honestly. “I’ve got an appointment with Dr. Riley in about a week. She’ll be able to help me sort it out. Did you have a good day at school?” I pull myself up to a sitting position, but my body is heavy and lethargic.
“Yeah, it was okay. Dad…” She pauses, eyes scanning my face. “What’s going on?”
“What do you mean?”
“You’ve been different the last few weeks.”
I weigh up telling the truth versus lying and decide being honest is the best option. “I ran into someone I hadn’t seen in twenty years,” I explain. “Someone I cared for when I was a teenager. I guess it brought up a lot of old memories. Stuff I should’ve dealt with a long time ago.”
“Someone that you once loved. A boy?” she asks tentatively.
I smile. She’s perceptive and sensitive even though she’s been trying her damnedest to come across as anything but these last couple of years.
“Yes. He was my first love. I was about your age when we first got together. We went through a lot of bad stuff. His foster dad was a sorry excuse for a human being, and we had to hide our relationship for a long time.”
“What was his name?” she asks.
“Brendan.”
Lu tilts her head to one side, contemplating. “Is he the boy in the photos?”
I frown. “What photos?”
“Not long ago I saw you looking at photos of you and another boy on your phone. You looked really young.”
Picking up my phone from the bedside table, I open the hidden photo folder. A picture of me and Bren fills the screen. We’re smiling, cheeks pressed together, and arms slung around each other’s shoulders. I face the screen towards Lu. “Is this what you saw?”
“Yeah, can I?” She holds out her hand for the phone.
“Of course, I have a few.” I scroll to the next photo, a shot of Bren on our beach, smiling at the camera, sun shimmering on the water behind him. He looks happy and free, something he often wasn’t back then.
I pass the phone to her. She studies it for a moment, then swipes forwards and backwards between the five photos. “You must have loved him a lot to still think about him after all these years.”
“I did. So much.” A tear spills over before I can stop it. I’m embarrassed crying in front of Lu, so I quickly flick it away. “I broke up with him. I thought I was doing him a favour so he wouldn’t have to put up with my mental illness.”
Lu wraps her arms around my neck and pulls me into a hug. It’s been way too long since we shared one, and I hold onto her for dear life. When she releases me, her expression is kind.
“Dad, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately and I wanna do better, too, because I miss you. I miss how it used to be between us. And I’m really sorry about Brendan.”
I swallow hard, overcome by her words, then place a kiss to her forehead. “I’d like that. I’ve missed you, too. And it’s okay about Brendan. I met Papa and I got to have you, and you’re the best thing in my life. I love you, Lu.”
“I love you too, Dad.”
“What’s going on in here?”
We both turn to find James standing in the bedroom doorway.
“Papa, nothing’s going on. Dad’s just tired.”
“Kyle, is that true?” James comes and stands over me. “I asked you if you needed to see the doctor and you said you were fine.” He sighs loudly when he takes in the state of my face. “You look awful.”
“I’ve made an appointment. I haven’t been sleeping well but I’m sure it’s nothing.”
Lu’s hand slides into mine and I almost weep at the gesture.
“I hope so because I’ve got the Sydney trip coming up and you can’t have an episode while I’m gone.” James frowns down at me like he’s scolding a small child. “You remember what happened last time.”
“Papa don’t be such an asshole,” Lu interjects. “Dad’s doing everything he can and I’m not a kid anymore. I can look after him if something happens while you’re away.”
“Lucinda, Dad might let you get away with speaking to him like that, but you won’t get away with it with me.
Go and do your homework young lady. Besides, you’re on school camp when I’m in Sydney.
And you have absolutely no idea how to handle Dad when he’s” —James’s mouth turns down at the corners— “sick.”
“Lu, it’s okay,” I say, squeezing her hand. “You go and get started on your homework and I’ll get dinner ready soon.”
Lu stands and walks towards the door, turning at the last minute, eyes fierce with anger. “Papa, maybe if you didn’t speak to people like they’re shit then I wouldn’t have gotten so good at it, too. I’m fucking sick of living in this house.”
James points at Lucinda and yells, “One more word out of you and you’ll be grounded. This is between me and your dad. Now go!”
Lu pivots on her heel and storms out of the bedroom.
Pissed off, I stand to face James, pulling up to my full height so I can look down at him. “Was that really necessary?”
“If you’d done a better job at parenting, I wouldn’t have to come down on her so hard, now would I?”
“Fuck you! Things are going to change around here. I’m gonna do better. Maybe you should give it a try, too.” I shove past him, instantly hoping I haven’t pissed him off too much.
Fear wraps around my chest. I don’t want this to escalate.
“Just remember who pays for all your designer clothes, that Porsche you parade around in, and all the first-class overseas holidays.”
I keep walking and, fortunately, he doesn’t follow. I never needed any of that shit anyway.