Chapter 50
SPENCE
Georgia is sleeping. Dark shadows beneath her eyelashes, her cheeks flushed. Alice is sitting opposite, next to the bed. Heather has stepped out to get us all a drink.
Beside my daughter, the monitor beeps, numbers flashing.
My eyes keep catching them as her levels stay stable.
I’m holding her hand, still small, even though they’re starting to look more like a woman’s rather than the chubby hand that held mine when crossing the road.
Long fingers, her blue nail polish with silver stars at the tips.
‘Thank God you were there,’ I say, eyes still on Georgia.
‘It wasn’t her fault; the ingredients weren’t clear. It’s only because she had a reaction to that vegan chocolate when she was seven that I even thought of it.’
‘I shouldn’t have left her.’
‘Don’t be daft. You can’t be by her side 24-7.’
‘Still, when I think about what could have happened—’
‘But it didn’t.’ She meets my eyes, and I think of all the things I’ve said in that letter, Alice looks at me as though she knows already. ‘Spence, there are things that need to be said, I—’
The sound of the curtain sliding back interrupts. Heather comes back in, all the things left unsaid, well, are left unsaid. She looks worse than all of us. Eyes red-rimmed, nails raw around the edges as she grips a bottle of water. I take one with a thanks.
Her hand rests on my shoulder. ‘Any change?’
I shake my head. ‘She just needs to rest now.’
Alice moves her chair back quietly, leans in and kisses Georgia on the cheek, brushing a lock of hair away. ‘I’ll get going. Keep me posted?’
I nod.
Alice hesitates by the curtain, her eyes on Heather, then me.
‘Alice?’ Heather steps forward. ‘Thank you. I don’t know what I’d have done…’ She pulls Alice into a hug. I return my attention to Georgia.
‘Call me if you need me,’ Alice says quietly, then closes the curtain behind her.
Heather sits down beside me. Shoulders shaking. ‘I’m so sorry.’
‘I know. It wasn’t your fault. This isn’t the first time.’
‘What if…’ Her eyes fill. ‘What if I’m not cut out for this after all? Maybe leaving was the best thing I did. I shouldn’t have come back, I…’
I turn to her. ‘Do you think I haven’t thought about all the things I’ve done wrong? This is what being a parent is. We don’t get it right all the time. Most of being a parent is being terrified of something happening to them.’
‘Still. Alice knew.’
‘Alice was here, Heather. You can’t replace thirteen years in a few months.’
‘Do you want me to go?’ Her voice is a whisper.
‘No. Hopefully, she’ll be discharged soon.’
‘No…’ She clears her throat. ‘I meant… go. From your lives.’
Her words catch me off guard. I bite back my anger. One little – OK, not little – mistake, and she’s already about to quit?
‘I can’t make that decision for you. But if you’re going to go again, Heather, that’s it, do you understand? I can’t watch you earn her trust then just bolt.’
‘But…’
‘Like I said. This is parenthood. You need to make a decision, and if it’s too hard, if you’re not 100 per cent in, then yes. You should leave.’
She nods. ‘But if you want to stay in her life, then that’s OK too. But as a mother. Not as… anything else.’
‘I understand.’ We’re quiet, just the sound of the hospital beyond the doors filling the space. Heather takes a deep breath. ‘You’re… you’re not coming, are you? Back home. With me?’
If anything, today has taught me that Heather’s not ready. Yet. And I can’t risk taking Georgia away from her friends, from our home, from Alice just because I’m afraid of telling Alice how I really feel.
I give a small shake of my head. ‘No.’
She nods. ‘I understand. I think… I think I fell in love with her. And maybe you a bit too…’
‘No, you didn’t.’ My voice is tired. ‘You fell in love with the idea of a happy family, of righting all your wrongs. But I can’t be that for you. We don’t fit, Heather. Not as a couple. But as a slightly dysfunctional family? You fit right in.’
‘Alice fits… doesn’t she?’
I let out a long breath.
‘You’re in love with her.’
I give the smallest fraction of agreement.
‘It doesn’t matter how I feel. She doesn’t feel the same way and…’
She lets out a small laugh. ‘Still the same old Spence. Can’t see what’s right in front of you, can you?’
‘It’s not… That’s not…’
‘Do you really think I didn’t know why you slept with me the night of our prom?’ She shakes her head, a wry smile. ‘I was there, remember? I saw the way your poor heart damn near fell out of your chest when you saw her snogging that guy. What was his name?’
‘Jared.’
‘Yeah. Jared.’
‘Funny how you still remember his name, after all these years, when the rest of us can barely remember him at all.’
The curtain pulls back, the doctor coming in with a smile. She tucks her dark hair back, looks up at the monitor then back to us. ‘So, it’s all looking good, but we’d like to keep her in overnight.’
I sit up, anxious.
She smiles. ‘Just as a precaution. It’s late, no use trying to get the paperwork through at this hour. She’ll be a bit under the weather over the next few days, so keep an eye on her and bring her back if you have any concerns.’
‘Thank you…’ I breathe out.
‘And maybe keep her away from artisan bakeries,’ she adds, but it’s in good humour. Seeing Heather’s face, she places a gentle hand on her shoulder. ‘It was an easy mistake. Just be vigilant, especially where things are branded as being extra healthy. Nut milks can often sneak in under the radar.’
The monitor keeps beeping, her heartbeat, steady, controlled.
Mine isn’t.
I should have left that letter ripped up. Instead I started it again, like an idiot.
I shouldn’t have sent it.
Fuck.