4. So Many Memories
SO MANY MEMORIES
ANNELISA
On Friday night, I’m sitting at Tara’s dining table once more, trying not to think about my chance meeting with Morgan that morning.
I haven’t mentioned it yet to my sister, knowing full well that it would cause Tara to launch into a lecture about the way I’d left seven years ago.
Another well-worn topic of conversation between them.
“So, I spoke to Mum today. She’s having a great time,” Tara says, while she sets the table.
Since Mum retired two years ago, she spends more time travelling than she does at home. I think it’s fabulous, but Tara is convinced it’s because our mother can’t settle down and is miserable at home with nothing to keep her occupied. Pretty similar to how Tara views my life back in London.
While I don’t agree with her about Mum, she’s pretty close to the mark when it comes to me. Not that I’d ever admit it to her.
Our father left us when I was sixteen, causing both of us to develop abandonment issues in our later years. Tara has worked on her issues with a therapist after Dad passed away four years ago, while I’ve preferred to just ignore the issue, never having been one to enjoy discussing my feelings.
Mum originally struggled through the first few months after he left, having always devoted herself to her family.
But almost twenty years on, she now looks back with gratitude at the woman who took him off her hands.
They even have regular coffee dates, which is so bizarre.
While Tara has developed a relationship with Jo, I’ve kept her at arm’s length, unable to move past her involvement in destroying the perfect family I thought I’d belonged to.
I’ve always held onto grudges. Something I inherited from my father.
Despite my mistrust towards Jo, I’ve been working on trying to spend more time with her two daughters, my younger half-sisters, Jordan and Piper.
Tara had pushed me to admit that they played no part in our family’s demise, and after I’d returned to London after Dad’s death, I’d begun to build my own relationship with them both with regular video chats.
Although it still feels foreign to have teenage sisters while I’m in my thirties.
“I haven’t heard from her in a few days. Where is she now?” I ask while I help Brandie get ready for her bath.
Aiden had to work late as a chaperone for some school activity, so I’d offered to help. It’s nice feeling useful after all these years of not being around.
“Somewhere out west. She found another bloody bus tour to go on and said she’s just going to keep booking more til she’s due back.”
Mum has developed a passion for bus tours, which I find entertaining. Tara doesn’t get it though, thinking that she could surely find better ways to holiday, rather than being surrounded by old people in an enclosed space for days on end.
Refusing to join her in judging Mum, I shrug. “Good for her. I’m glad she’s getting out there.”
Besides, the more fun she has, the more likely she is to keep extending her trip, and there’s less pressure on me to decide what I’m going to do once she gets back.
As much as I don’t want to admit it to Tara, the longer I’m away from London, the harder it is for me to imagine going back.
Not that there is much for me here these days, either.
Tara rolls her eyes and I grin at her, before heading into the bathroom and helping Brandie get her bath toys sorted out, listening intently while she tells me the names of each of her mermaid Barbie dolls and their intricate relationships.
I love having the opportunity to spend time with my niece, who provides me with hours of entertainment with her sassy ways. Yesterday’s Elsa incident was only one of many exchanges where she put me in my place with regards to right and wrong. She seems older than her years - four going on forty.
After I get Brandie settled in the bath, I take a seat in the armchair that gives me a full view of the bathroom while facing the couch, where Tara sits with her laptop, finishing up a few loose ends with work.
She recently earned a promotion to senior partner at the insurance brokerage where she has been working for four years, and she appears to be very happy there.
“Should we put a movie on?” I ask, grabbing the remote and flicking over to Netflix.
Tara regards me for a moment. “Shouldn’t you be out, enjoying your singledom at some pub? Isn’t that what non-parents do?” She has made it clear that she’s worried about my lack of social life on more than one occasion.
I just shrug, knowing there is no use admitting that I have an extremely limited circle of friends these days. My social circle is comprised of Tara, Aiden, and the girls.
For someone who used to be a social butterfly with a large network of friends, the last seven years have seen quite a few changes on that front. I don’t like to think about it, knowing that it was through no one’s fault but my own.
But in every breakup, someone always loses out in the friendship game, and given how I’d left things with Will, I’ve figured it was safest just to stay away.
I’ve made a few friends in London, but they are mostly just acquaintances I met through my flatmate, Sebastian.
They don’t really check in on me, and vice-versa.
I haven’t even heard from either of my flatmates in weeks, which is a little depressing.
But then, I spend most of my time keeping people at arm’s length, so it’s hardly surprising.
I’m not sure that’s something to be proud of, though.
“As a matter of fact, you’ll be happy to know that I’ve been invited to a party tomorrow night.”
This announcement causes Tara to close her laptop with a smile. “Really? What party?”
I hesitate before answering, regretting opening my mouth. “Morgan’s birthday party.”
Tara’s eyebrows shoot up, just as I’d expected. “How did that happen?” Tara has been at me to reconnect with the old group, and I can almost see her inner-self rubbing her hands together.
“She saw me out running this morning and bailed me up. Are you going?” I ask, praying she says yes.
“No. We’re going to Damien’s wedding, remember?”
“Oh, that’s right. Need me to babysit Brandie?” I ask, looking for an excuse to cancel.
“Nice try. Jordan is coming to look after her. You can’t take a paid babysitting gig away from a fifteen-year-old just to get out of going to a party.”
I sigh, wishing I’d never agreed to go to this party.
While I’m trying to think of another way to get out of it, Tara asks the question I’ve been dreading. “Did Morgan say if Will is going to be there?”
My stomach clenches at the mention of the name that is rarely said, yet is always in my thoughts.
“Morgan assured me he wouldn’t be there, otherwise I wouldn’t have even considered going.”
It’s Tara’s turn to sigh. “That’s a shame… I still think you need to see him again. I know it would be good for you. There’s so many memories there. So much history.”
“And that’s all there ever will be. Memories. So why bother stirring it all up again? I’m sure he’s moved on and found someone new. A guy like Will is the perfect catch for anyone.”
Tara gives me a look that tells me she has information on that subject, but I refuse to go fishing for the gossip. I turn on a random movie, letting Tara know that the conversation is over as far as I’m concerned.
I know that Tara still see’s them all semi-regularly. She works with Morgan’s husband, Chris, and they all still get together once a month or so when Morgan’s younger sister, Bri and her husband, Jake, are in town with their kids.
Because I’ve refused to ask questions about Will, I’ve allowed myself to imagine him with a beautiful wife on his arm at those dinners. Maybe a few kids of his own. It’s what he deserves. Someone who can make him happy and give him the life he always wanted. A life I could never give him.
After dinner, I offer to put Brandie to bed, and lie down with her in her canopy bed to read her a bedtime story.
“This is one of my favourite books,” I say, showing her the front cover of The Paperbag Princess .
“What’s it about?” She snuggles into my side, resting her little head on my shoulder.
“It’s about a princess who has to save the prince from a dragon. It’s all about girl power,” I reply, giving her a kiss on the head.
“Girls rule and boys drool,” she says.
I laugh and cuddle her close. “Damn straight, little princess. Couldn’t have said it better myself.”
She looks up at me with her big blue eyes. “I love you, Aunty Lissa.”
Screw it, I’m just going to hang out in this bed forever with this tiny human and hide from the world a little longer.
“I love you, too, munchkin.”