24
Saskia
It’s early, and I am in the kitchen when Mum walks in, still in her pyjamas.
I am making my morning oat milk flat white on Brian’s espresso machine.
Brian only drinks ‘proper coffee’ – his words – so when he moved in, he brought along his top-of-the-line Breville espresso machine with him.
I did have to sit through a two-hour introductory session with Brian before I was allowed to use the machine – despite working as a barista for almost three years in my early twenties – but I’m glad because I love my morning flat white.
Mum starts pottering about the kitchen, and when I sit down with my coffee, she joins me.
Mum’s never been a brekky person and will often just have a cup of tea, or occasionally a slice of toast.
‘How ya goin’, love?’ she asks.
‘Yeah, good.’
‘I can’t believe you’re going to be thirty soon. It barely feels like a few weeks since you were just a kid. I remember you sitting there with your cereal, your dad getting ready for work, and you wouldn’t stop talking. Such an earbasher. Always yabbering on about something.’
‘I can’t believe it’s been ten years since Dad died,’ I say, and even now whenever I say the words out loud, I feel it in my heart like a dull ache.
‘I know, love. He would be so proud of you.’
‘You think so?’
‘Of course.’
‘What about you? Are you proud of me?’ I ask before taking a sip of my coffee.
‘You know I am, love, but I just worry, that’s all.’
‘I’m fine, Mum.’
‘Are you? What’s happening with you and this boyfriend of yours?’
‘It’s good. Brad’s nice, Mum, you’d like him. He’s got his own flat in Bondi, a thriving chiropractic practice and he’s very easy on the eye,’ I say and Mum smiles.
‘That’s good, love. It never hurts when they’re a bit of a dish. Your dad always made my heart flutter. It definitely helps in the bedroom.’
‘Mum!’
‘Sorry, love, but it’s true. Your father and I were, well, let’s just say we never had a problem in that department.’
‘What about you and Brian? Does he make your heart flutter?’
Mum looks at me, smiles, but it’s slightly bittersweet, and I can see it in her eyes, the way she always looks whenever we talk about Dad.
Ten years or ten minutes, the pain is still there.
Memories like echoes that never go away.
It’s one of the fallacies about grief I have never understood.
People talk about time being a great healer and how it gets easier.
I don’t think this is true. I still feel the grief of losing Dad just as strongly as I did right after it happened, but it’s just different.
When he died, it was like a punch to my stomach.
It was so painful, and the blow was so strong I felt winded, like I couldn’t catch my breath.
But now the grief feels like I am being squeezed ever so tightly, and sometimes it’s so tight I still can’t catch my breath, but on other days it’s looser and I barely feel it.
Grief doesn’t go away over time; it just changes.
‘He does, but not like your dad. I think we only get one love like that in a lifetime,’ says Mum, and it’s heartbreaking, even to me, who loved and lost Dad too.
‘Do you still think about Dad every day?’
Mum stands up, filling up a small watering can, and she begins watering the cacophony of potted plants she has in the kitchen. Although she doesn’t water Brian’s bonsai tree because that’s strictly off-limits to everyone except Brian. He even made a sign – a small sign, obviously.
‘Of course, love. Sometimes it’s first thing in the morning when I wake up on my own, or when I’m brushing my teeth, and I look next to me and remember him brushing his teeth too.
Your father was such a messy man. He used to get toothpaste in the sink, and he’d leave it there and it would get all hard.
Sometimes I’ll be walking along Glebe Point Road, and I’ll get a flash of a memory of being there with him.
Him pushing you in your pram or us going out for a meal.
He loved the weekend market, and we’d stroll around with coffee.
There are memories of your dad everywhere, love, so I can’t escape him. ’
‘Do you want to escape him?’
‘That’s the thing. I don’t think I do.’
‘But you’re happy with Brian?’
‘Yeah, I am. He’s different from your dad, but I think I needed that.
The thing about Brian is that he loves me, Sas, and he treats me the right way.
Yeah, I know he’s quirky with his bonsai tree, his erotic art, the foreign docos and I know he’s not everyone’s cup of tea, but he’s my Brian and I love him. ’
‘I’m happy for you, Mum,’ I say, taking another sip of my coffee.
‘Thanks, love. Right,’ says Mum sharply. ‘What’s happening with this gig of yours?’
She’s referring to my gig in front of Fudge Cake, so I tell her all about it and how excited I am. I tell her that it could be my big break if it goes well.
‘But what if it isn’t your big break, love?’ asks Mum, and she looks across at me while watering a small rubber plant. ‘What are you going to do if it doesn’t go well?’
‘I can’t think about that. I have to believe it’s going to be it. Positive thinking!’
‘Then I hope for you it is,’ says Mum with a pinched smile, before she adds, ‘I know your dad always believed in you.’
‘Yeah, he did,’ I say, looking at Mum, who stops what she is doing for a moment and gives me an encouraging smile.
‘Then I believe in you, too!’ says Mum, before we stay in comfortable silence for a few minutes, while she finishes watering her plants and I sip my coffee.
When it seems like we’re both done, she says she has to get on, things to do, as always with Mum.
She always has something to do or somewhere to go.
She’s always been full of energy and seems unable to relax for more than five minutes without finding something that literally has to get done.
I don’t have that problem, and I can easily do nothing for long periods of time – just like Dad.
Mum gives me a kiss on the top of my head before she leaves the room, and I sit and finish the last dregs of my coffee.
I have the day off today, and I really want to FaceTime with Ben.
I feel like we have barely spoken recently, and I am feeling the need for him.
Brad wants to meet up in Bondi later, so I’ll pop over there and see him.
I have also been thinking about Jess because I miss her, and I can’t stand the thought of us not being friends anymore.
I need her in my life. Before any of that though, I need time to practise my set for my gig with Fudge Cake.
Joe keeps texting me and telling me he’s excited about it, but I know he’s just excited for whatever he thinks he’s going to get from me afterwards.
He’s such a perv, and I can’t wait to be done with him.
Maybe bringing Brad to the gig will finally expel any ideas that Joe has of something happening with us.
Brad is quite intimidating, and if there is something I know about Joe Thompson, it’s that he is intimidated by men like Brad.
After a few hours of practice, I am sitting in my bedroom staring at my phone. I need to text Jess and arrange to meet. I can’t stand not talking to her. I have already written and deleted five messages, and I am attempting a sixth.
Jess, can we talk? I miss you. Let me know. Sas x
I look at it, remember how cruel she was and some of the nasty things she said, and decide to try one last attempt.
Can we talk?
I push send and then put my phone down on my bed.
I need to have a shower and then I’ll head over to Brad’s flat.
He finishes work at one and wants to take me to his mate’s house and do a cold plunge and have a sauna together.
I am dreading the cold plunge, and I have never been very good with saunas because, and it might sound bloody obvious, but they’re too hot!
I need a constant temperature, so saunas and cold plunges go against every instinct in my body, but if it’s something Brad wants to do together as a couple, then I can’t really say no.
Maybe it’s time I started doing more things outside of my comfort zone. It’s how you grow, right?
Brad is standing next to me in a pair of tight red budgie-smugglers, and he does have an incredible body, which makes me feel a little insecure about mine because I am standing in front of him in just my bikini.
My body is fine, I guess, and it doesn’t usually bother me much because I accept who I am, and in front of most blokes it wouldn’t worry me, but standing next to Brad, it’s hard not to feel a little insecure.
He’s also completely hairless – and I mean completely hairless – which is something I have always struggled with.
I am not a totally hairless woman, don’t want to be because it’s bloody annoying, and again with most blokes, it’s not an issue, but next to Brad with his less than ten per cent body fat, perfect tan and literally zero hair, I do feel a little self-conscious about my slightly squishy, pale white and definitely not hairless body.
We’re in Brad’s mate’s backyard, and it is beautiful. They have a gorgeous house in North Bondi, which must have cost millions, and the yard has a swimming pool, palm trees, and then at the back they have the plunge pool and the wooden sauna. It feels like we’re at a fancy resort.
‘How cold is it exactly?’ I ask.
‘Eight degrees,’ says Brad with a smile. I don’t think he should be smiling like that. ‘Do you want me to go first, Sas? Show you how it’s done?’
‘No, I’ll go. I just want to get it over and done with,’ I reply, and I guess I am really going to do this.
For the record, I don’t go into the sea, and I take my showers hot.
I don’t, as a rule, like being cold, so choosing to go into a freezing cold plunge pool is against all my natural instincts. My brain is saying: NO FUCKING WAY!