9. Seph
CHAPTER 9
SEPH
R ose sat at the kitchen table with my parents, showing them a video on her tablet that went through the procedure she’d be having in a couple of weeks. She was matter of fact about it, able to explain in detail exactly what was going to happen and how it worked. There was no fear in her voice, or worry. None of that had been there since after her second appointment, when the specialist had spoken to her about what would happen rather than us and she’d asked most of the questions.
She was bright and quick and curious and I was so incredibly proud of her and the person she was already, never mind what she would become.
“How worried are you about this, Rosie?” My mum asked, offering Rose a chocolate which she took.
Rose shrugged. “There’s no point being too worried about it because the procedure has to happen. I’m nervous about it because I’ve never had anaesthetic before but I know it’s unlikely to go wrong.”
She spoke with precision which was a tell for me that secretly she was still holding everything together. When Rose was worried she really thought about her words and how to answer a question. She was rarely impetuous or impulsive, instead she was sometimes over-cautious and an over-thinker.
My mum knew that too.
“I think you’re being very sensible. I spoke to someone I know – another specialist – about what you’re having done and he said it was a very common procedure to do and wouldn’t be worried about it either. What are you going to do after it’s happened?” Mum sounded practical, which was meant to be reassuring, and it was.
Rose smiled, and this wasn’t a forced one. “Read. I can have a week off school so I’m going to read. I’ve found a new series and I’m saving reading it until after the procedure and I really want to read it now.”
“Tell me what it’s about?”
Rose was lost down a pathway to a mysterious forest of books, taking her grandmother with her.
I looked at Dad who’d gotten up to make another cup of tea. He smiled at me, putting the cup down and picking up a bottle of wine and holding it up and pointing to the fridge, basically asking if I wanted a wine or a beer.
“Beer, please.” It was rare I drank during the week, usually waiting until weekend for a few drinks with my brothers after rugby or cricket, and then wine with Sunday lunch. The big nights out had long since been left behind, which was probably better for my internal organs.
He took out two beers and opened them, bringing them over. “Fancy a game of pool?”
“Why not.” I hadn’t played for ages, although for a time we’d played a lot, a tournament between my brothers, Ava, Eli and Killian that lasted almost twelve months.
My parents had a pool table in the basement in the games room they’d put in there when Max was a teenager. It was staying put as the new owner had a son who was about fourteen, so we’d been told, and none of us had the room for it.
“How’s Georgia?” he asked, as we sorted out our cues.
I nodded. “Better than she was. I think she felt better once we’d told people.”
“Where is she tonight?”
“Her sister’s over, so they’re watching the kids while they eat take-out and drink wine. I said I’d bring Rose to see you and Luke’s staying with Payton. She’s taking him and Tomas to see some superheroes show tomorrow.” There wasn’t much of an age difference between them and they were in the same year group at school. They were close, more like brothers than cousins and I hoped that would carry on when they were older.
“Easy night for you then?” My dad bent down and broke, the balls scattering across the table, but none were potted.
He’d lined a red ball up nicely for me, which left me to put three away in a row.
“Does Rose’s biological father know what’s happening?” The question came out of the blue.
I froze for a second. “No. She didn’t want us to tell him – she doesn’t have anything to do with him and doesn’t want any contact. That’s her decision.”
He nodded, missing an easy pot after sinking a yellow. “You’re her dad anyway.”
“I am.”
He smiled at me. “I’m proud of how you stand up for her, Joseph. You and Georgia both.”
I laughed, surprised at the praise because my dad wasn’t free with his compliments. “It’s only what Marie did with the oldest four.”
He watched me miss an easy shot.
“Marie was a saint. It isn’t an easy thing to do, taking on someone else’s kid like they’re your own. I’ve noticed Max is calling her ‘mum’ more though.” He potted a yellow with ease.
“I’ve noticed that. He even yelled it before when he found those boxes from your wedding.” We’d cleared out what was in the loft today, the final bits left in there from years before.
Dad nodded, remembering what was in them. “That was your Aunt Bernie who insisted we box up the favours and some of the table decs. I don’t think we ever opened those boxes until now.”
“They were from your wedding in Oxford?”
“They were. Marie’s parents couldn’t get over for the wedding and what we had here was small and quick. They wanted a party for it, which your mum wasn’t keen on at first, but then once the house in Oxford was ready – we had it all modernised – we gave in because we thought it’d give the kids a new memory.”
We’d stopped playing now, drinking our beers slowly and leaning against the wall. I’d heard lots of stories from my siblings and parents, as well as from Aunt Bernie who had her own take on everything. My dad occasionally told us something we hadn’t heard before, but usually he liked to listen instead.
“How was it for you when Marie came here and made you be more hands on?” It felt like an impertinent question to ask. I’d seen my dad solely as a father figure rather than a person in his own right for most of my life, and it’d only been in the last year or so I’d started to develop a different relationship with him.
He laughed, which made me feel better. “A shock, but that wasn’t because of Marie. I knew the kids needed me around; I should’ve been around all the time and not left their mum on her own as much and I felt really guilty about it. When I was in New York for that mediation and the court case I didn’t actually want to be there. I could see Max was struggling and trying to be the man of the house when I wasn’t there, which I knew wasn’t fair. My dad wanted me to send all of them to boarding school, but I knew Rachael had never wanted that and I didn’t really want to either, so I knew there had to be a change. If I hadn’t had Marie with me, I think I’d have been overwhelmed. Instead, I kind of copied her. How did you learn to parent Rose?”
It was my turn to laugh. “I don’t know if I do parent Rose. I knew when I met her and Georgia that I loved them and I’d do anything to look after them, so I suppose I just did that. Is that the same as parenting?” Unlike my older brothers, I had no difficulty saying how I felt. A lot of that was because of Marie and how open she was with her feelings, so different to my older siblings and father.
“I think you do more than just look after her, for what it’s worth. I don’t think she’d have chosen to call you dad if it was just caretaking.” His smile was knowing. “I think it’s a lot more than that.”
“Maybe. I hope so. It’s weird thinking how much she’s growing up. She’s second year of high school and in another four years she’ll have done her first set of exams, starting college and thinking about going to university. She’ll have boyfriends or girlfriends and I’ll be the awkward parent who embarrasses her.”
“That’s the fun bit. Bringing up kids is never easy but I liked it when you lot got older and started becoming adults. We still worried about you and we couldn’t be in charge of you like we could when you were young, but it was still fun. The chaos was just different.” His eyes were misty, as if he was seeing memories peel through his mind like a movie. “I’m enjoying it now most of all – seeing you all with your own kids and careers and relationships.”
“I can imagine it’s satisfying.”
“It’s happier than I ever thought it would be.” He looked around the room. “I hope the people moving in here have as much fun as we did.”
I wondered how much of the move was Marie’s doing. “Do you want to leave here?”
He looked at me and smiled. “Yes. I mentioned selling to your mum a year or so ago and she was adamant that she didn’t want to go. Sometimes she needs a bit of time to think an idea’s actually hers then she’ll go along with it. This place is too big and it’s a waste if it’s not filled with people. We have other places where we can be.”
“You have plenty of those. I don’t think you’ve been at home – the apartment – much at all. Max said you’d emptied their fridge.” I’d been surprised at how much we’d seen of them this week.
Dad laughed. “Revenge. No, I don’t see as much of Max usually, so it’s been good to hang around there.” He paused, smirking. “Max isn’t a great bowler and Maddox is going to be really good – I didn’t want Maddox learning any bad habits.”
“I take it you don’t want me to repeat that to Max?”
“Feel free. I’ve told him myself and he did well, he only sulked for fifteen minutes.” Dad put his bottle down and picked the cue up again, taking his shot which wasn’t as impressive as his bowling skills.
“Max always said he didn’t want kids, which I never believed.” My oldest brother was probably my best friend, despite blaming me every time the photocopier broke. “He was great with me, Payts and Ava when we were kids.”
“He was good with Callum too. The night Marie got there, he showed her how to look after Callum, and he did better than I ever did, or had done until then. I think he worried that he couldn’t have a successful career and be the dad he wanted to be. He’s actually been amazing at both. I couldn’t be prouder of him. Take your shot.” He pointed to my cue.
I took it, potting a ball, starting to recapture my form – which had never been the best. “Have you told him that?”
My dad paused for a moment. “No. I don’t think I have.”
“Maybe you should. I think he’d like to hear it.”
Rose held my hand when we walked home, the sun already having disappeared into the August evening sky. It wouldn’t be long before she stopped holding my hand, probably not doing it again until I was an old man and she was looking after me. I didn’t like that thought, so I didn’t linger on it.
“You don’t have to pretend you’re not worried about the procedure with me, Rosie,” I said as we walked past Claire’s house. We all lived far too close to each other.
She nodded, not looking at me. “I know you and Mum are worried about it. I’ve overheard you and I can lip read a bit. My friend Eloise taught me.”
Eloise was a girl in her class who was hearing impaired. She’d taught Rose sign as well, which Rose had passed onto Luke so the two of them could communicate without me and Georgia knowing what they were saying.
I’d ended up learning some just to annoy them. That had been one of the greatest days when I signed back at them when they were plotting raiding my chocolate stash that they’d discovered.
“We are worried about it. I know it should be okay. I’ve read loads about it too. But my worst fear is something bad happening to you and your brothers and sister.”
She stopped walking, still holding my hand. “But I’m going to be okay, Daddy. Better than okay and I don’t think you need to be worried. I’m scared about hospital, but that’s normal, I think.”
“It is.”
She put her arms around my waist and I hugged her back, half wishing she’d stay this age forever, but I’d thought that every time she’d hugged me.
“You’re the bravest girl I know,” I said, picking her up to twirl her round, getting in the way of someone on their way somewhere.
“You said that to Mum when she had Luke.”
“I probably did. You’re the bravest one of three girls I know. We have to include Evie too.”
“We should do. What do you want to do tomorrow?” Tomorrow was Saturday and we had no plans, as far I knew.
“Can Eliza come for pancakes for breakfast? Then she’s got kickboxing, so I thought I’d read – not that series though. I’m saving that.”
“Pancakes are fine. I’ll text Auntie Claire. What book are you going to read then?”
That was it then, it was book talk all the way home. Not just about what she was planning to read, but what Payton was reading and Claire, and about my book – a thriller – and what Georgia was reading.
I lapped it up. Every word of it.
I phoned Max just after eleven, Rose fast asleep in bed, having nodded off while reading, which wasn’t unusual. I put the bookmark where I figured she was up to and tucked her in lightly, turning off her light and leaving the door slightly ajar so if she woke, the night light outside her room wouldn’t make it seem as dark.
I knew Max was up because our group message was pinging away, the one with all the partners and cousins in. There was some banter about a famous singer being on the Welsh island where the Holland brothers lived and one of them embarrassing himself in front of her, with video evidence, so everyone was in uproar.
Max answered straightaway.
“Is Rose okay?” Were his first words.
“She’s really good actually. I spent the evening with her at Mum and Dad’s.”
“Oh yeah. Were they okay? I know they’re fine – they were here this afternoon. Dad was pretending to coach Maddox. I think it was the other way round actually.”
I decided to leave that one there.
“Dad’s really proud of you, you know.” I thought he did need to know that. Max and our dad were crap at communicating with each other.
“Where’s that come from? Have you been taking drugs?”
“No. We were talking today about how you looked after Cal and Dad said a lot of really good stuff about you. I know you think he’s judging you a lot, and he is, but what he sees is all the stuff you’re doing well.”
There was silence at the other end. I wondered for a moment if he’d hung up.
“Thanks. I appreciate you telling me that.”
“You’re welcome. I think our dad’s a pretty good one too. I know he wasn’t at first, but he is now.” I let the words hang there, unsure whether Max would take them or not.
“He is. He is now. He’s a good grandfather too. Can’t fault him there.”
“I think you need to tell him that.”
More silence.
“I think you’re right.”
I left it there. It wasn’t often my biggest brother (not in height) told me I was right, so I was taking that one.
I slipped into bed next to my tipsy wife, who’d been experimenting how to make sangria with her sister. Georgia stirred, half clamouring onto me, half asleep.
“Have you checked the kids?”
Such romantic words.
“I have. All asleep. Evie had about twenty teddy bears in with her. I moved some out.”
“Thank you. Is Rosie okay?” She was still half asleep.
“She’s fine. Fell asleep reading, so nothing new there. Have you had some painkillers?” If I knew her, she’d brought them into the room and hadn’t taken them.
“No. I’ll have them now.” She sat up, her hair loose, the vest she’d worn to bed not concealing much.
I watched as she took a slug of water and the tablets, wondering how I’d managed to have her fall in love with me and stay that way.
“What’s your favourite thing about me?” I decided I needed a compliment. The day had been fairly short of them.
She started laughing, almost choking on the water.
“Seriously.”
She settled back down next to me, still coughing a bit. “What do you think it is?”
“My penis, probably.” I half hoped it was.
“That’s in the top ten.”
“What’s number one?”
“That you’re mine.”