Chapter Forty-Two
JESS
Luke got me a beautiful anniversary gift.
Seven years is wool apparently. Don’t ask me why.
As well as a lovely bracelet, he got me this beautiful sort-of cardigan, sort-of wrap thing from Etsy that you can wear in different ways, depending on how you put your arms in the sleeves.
It looks like something Claire from Outlander would wear but in a soft pale green rather than a muddy brown or grey. I love it.
Luke is out longer than I expect. It turns out his brother needed help measuring his bathroom because he’s going to do a refit.
What puzzles me is that he has a partner who is quite capable of holding one end of a tape measure, so I have no idea why he needed Luke to go over there and do it.
He probably didn’t remember it was our anniversary, and Luke probably didn’t remind him, not wanting him to feel bad.
Don’t get me wrong, I love the fact that my husband is the guy that everyone can depend on, but then I remember the weariness in his expression this morning over breakfast. Matt is only three years younger than Luke.
Surely, he could have worked it out by himself?
But I think Luke’s family have got used to him being in big-brother mode, charging in to the rescue, sorting out their problems for them, and I’m starting to wonder if they ask too much of him.
It gets me thinking about his professional life too, taking over the business from his dad.
Is that what Luke wants, really? Or is it because it’s what his father wants?
As I wash the spinach for a bacon, mushroom and spinach salad, I mull over the situation.
I know it wasn’t exactly like this last time we lived these years, because Luke didn’t have these side projects, he wasn’t renovating houses, losing himself in original features and dreams of family homes, but does that mean he wasn’t as frustrated with the day-to-day work of Harris & Sons? Is this something else I missed?
After we’ve eaten our steak dinner and tidied away as much as we can be bothered, Luke and I snuggle up on the sofa with a glass of red wine each and start watching one of their big action film hits of the previous summer.
We’ve just got through the credits, when I reach for the remote control and hit the pause button.
I turn to Luke. ‘Are you happy?’
He blinks and looks at me as if I just asked him if his leg fell off. ‘Of course I am! What do you mean?’
‘It’s just … I was thinking about what we were talking about this morning over breakfast. I know you love working with your dad, and there have been plans for years for you to take over the business, but I don’t see you get excited about that the way I can see you get excited about doing up your own houses, selling them on.
Wouldn’t you rather be doing that full-time than giving it up? ’
Luke looks as if I’ve just punched him in the face. Talk about hitting the nail on the head. But he doesn’t seem very pleased about it.
‘I know your dad likes having you there because you’re good – you keep an eye on things, you keep the standards high – but even if Warren isn’t a great second in command, it doesn’t mean you and your dad can’t find someone who is. That would leave you free to do what you love.’
Hope flares in his eyes and then dies again just as quickly. ‘It’s fine. I don’t mind stepping up for the family.’
Luke would never regret supporting his family, but I’ve had the benefit of seeing our life play out two different ways.
‘Of course, I know that’s true, but I’ve never seen you as happy at work as when you’re trying to source the right age of fireplace for a property or when you come home and show me the pictures of the parquet floor you found underneath a carpet. ’
‘Jess … It’s fine.’ He’s starting to sound a little irritated now.
‘But—’
‘But nothing. I’m going to take the business over from my dad when he retires and that’s all there is to say.’
Can I please add ‘pig-headed and stubborn’ to the qualities of loyalty and dependability when it comes to describing my husband? ‘Surely there’s some way to find middle ground?’
‘That’s what I’m doing now, and it isn’t working, is it? Or I wouldn’t be getting calls like I had this morning.’ He looks me dead in the eye. ‘You just don’t get it, Jess. How could you, when you decided to walk away from someone in your family? I just don’t have it in me to do that.’
I stiffen. ‘That’s not fair! You know this is a different—’ I catch myself.
There was something in my tone just then that made me sound just like my mother.
This is what she does … did … whatever. Flare up and get defensive any time anyone says something negative about her, even if it’s true.
I take a breath and delete the sentence already composed in my brain and ready to come out of my mouth.
I cross my arms over my body and instantly feel the soft wool of the present Luke gave me under my fingertips.
Wool … I’ve been thinking what a strange material it is to use to celebrate a wedding anniversary.
Last year, iron made sense. It’s strong, solid.
In comparison, wool seems insubstantial, too light and fluffy to matter.
But it’s also warm, soft, comforting. Wool is what Luke needs from me right now, not iron.
Not the hard-headed defensiveness I inherited from my mother.
I remember the anger I felt when Luke walked out the door on our tenth anniversary, how wounded and sorry for myself I was, but haven’t I been doing the same to him the whole way through our marriage?
Physically, I stayed, but emotionally I’ve been walking out the door on him for years, every time a conversation or a situation got too difficult.
If I want him to open up to me, then maybe I need to practise what I preach. ‘Okay, that came off a bit harsh, but I do understand what you’re saying.’ I shift to get more comfortable. I don’t think the action heroes on the TV screen are going to get unfrozen anytime soon.
‘Sorry,’ Luke mumbles. ‘I didn’t mean it to come out that way.’
‘Thank you.’ I reach out and touch his arm. ‘But I’m not surprised you don’t understand. There’s a lot I haven’t told you.’
I go on to tell him, in detail, of the nights I cried myself to sleep, of feeling so alone in our family unit of two that I might have been better off if it was just me in the house.
I wouldn’t have had to deal with the anger, the blame, the shouts of ‘I wish I’d never had you!
’. That’s something you shouldn’t yell in a ten-year-old’s face, isn’t it?
I tell him about the embarrassing things Mum did when she was drunk, filling him in on the ‘falling down the stairs naked’ story, and many others like it.
‘The worst thing is,’ I say swilling my wine round in my glass and then taking a sip, ‘that she made me complicit. It was like being in a cult. I was conditioned to not say anything, even if teachers asked if I was okay, even if – in later years – my dad tried to check if everything was good at home. She made me keep her secrets, and then she hated me because I knew them. And I had to keep everything I felt about it all secret, too. I couldn’t share it with anyone.
I’m still not good at sharing things with anyone. ’
I swallow, because the next bit is the bit I’m going to have to drag out of myself.
‘And I think this is why I’ve been so vague when we discuss babies, why I joke but never actually get around to doing anything about it.
’ I look down at my lap. ‘Because I’m worried that because I didn’t have good role models, I’ll be a bad mum.
’ I have to pause for a moment, because a lump forms in my throat and moisture fills my eyes.
Luke gently lifts my chin and makes me look at him. ‘I don’t believe that.’ He waits until the truth of his words sinks into me. ‘I think you’re going to be an incredible mother.’
I lean my head against him and let the tears fall quietly, just for a minute or so, and then I take a deep breath and sit up again.
‘Families are strange … We’re part of them, but we’re also our own people.
But sometimes the lines get blurry, and that’s why I did what I did with my mum when I cut her off.
I had to make that dividing line hard – set a boundary – because I felt as if I’d lose myself if I didn’t.
I wanted to know for sure than I’m different from her. ’
His expression is full of such love. And pain. I know he would absorb it all from me and bear it himself if he could. ‘I think I actually understand that now.’
I nod, feeling oddly peaceful. ‘Good. But maybe it’s not a bad thing to find that balance with your family too.
’ I hold up a hand as he starts to speak.
‘And, yes, I know they’re not toxic and dysfunctional, but it’s not wrong to want what you want, Luke, to do something for yourself.
What do you want? Not your family, not your dad. You.’
‘I can’t let them down, Jess.’
‘But finding a balance between what they need and what you need isn’t letting them down. It could make all of you happier. Why do you find it hard to say no to your family?
He sighs. ‘You’re right. I do love flipping houses, especially the hidden gems. But I also want to take up the legacy Dad wants to leave me. I don’t want to hurt him.’
I smile gently at him. He almost said it. I know there’s more. I know there are things he wants that maybe he’s not even ready to admit to himself, let alone me. But … baby steps. After all, it took me a while to figure this out. I just need to show Luke the same patience he’s shown me.