Chapter 28 #2
The door to Dad’s office was ajar and the light was on, but he wasn’t there.
I stepped inside. Very little had changed since I’d last been there.
Behind his desk was a series of medical textbooks, and on the wall an array of framed degrees hung, his name inked in twirly lettering.
Every other space was filled with thank-you presents from people grateful that he’d helped their brothers, sisters, dads and mums. I wondered, in some parallel world, if Dad had seen Alex’s mum before it was too late, what Alex would have sent?
And what Alex would have got back, how his life might have unfurled.
On one corner of Dad’s desk were two framed photos. These had changed – when I was young, it had just been a single group shot of Mum, Nick and me. Now Mum was gone, and Nick and I each had our own frame.
Nick’s photo was his graduation portrait.
Mine was one of me at Oxford, grinning in front of the Radcliffe Camera.
Alex had been standing near me, but he was out of the shot.
There we were – Dad’s two overachieving kids.
Did he look at these on a busy day and silently congratulate himself for doing such a good job?
Before I could stop myself, I picked up my frame and threw it at the wall.
It landed with a crack and then fell to the carpeted floor with a dull thud.
I stared at it, shocked at myself. Had I developed an overnight anger-management problem?
What had happened to my usually overflowing cup of impulse-control?
‘Is everything all right?’ An Irish nurse, who though young had already mastered the art of authoritative brisk movements, burst into the room.
Her face darkened when she realised that it wasn’t Dad throwing things around, but rather a woman dressed like an eighties aerobics instructor. ‘You can’t be in here.’
She had the expression of someone about to call a Code Black, the code for a safety risk. Was it normal that I’d known all the code colours, almost as early as I’d known the colours themselves?
‘I’m John’s daughter,’ I said quickly. ‘He knows I’m here... My mum got admitted tonight and I’m a bit upset.’ She gave me a half-smile but I knew she wasn’t empathetic – I’d distracted her, no doubt, from an understaffed night shift.
‘I can’t leave you here on your own,’ she said.
‘I’m leaving now,’ I said. I picked up the frame from the floor. There was a crack down the middle of the glass. I carefully placed it back where I’d found it on the desk.
I didn’t sleep at all that night. After hours of tossing and turning and then a few more trying to dissociate on many social media apps, I drove to the market and chose two thank-you bouquets: a riot of colour for Lily and an enormous bunch of peonies for Stella.
And then at the last minute I added a bunch of tulips for Mum.
I dropped Stella’s bunch on her doorstep – her mum’s car was still in the driveway and I didn’t want to interrupt their family time.
Then I crossed the city to Lily’s store.
Since having Arlo, she worked on Sundays.
Lily Li Jewellery in Brunswick was like Aladdin’s cave. It wasn’t totally surprising that it was empty – it was only just after 10 am, which north of the river on a Sunday was the equivalent of dawn.
‘Lil?’ I called. I heard a sniff and decided to go through to the back, hoping I wasn’t about to terrify one of her casual staff. Maybe she and Stella had decided to have a lazy morning in the hotel room.
Then I spotted her. She tried to plaster on a smile when she saw me in the doorway, but it was too late and too obvious that she’d been in the middle of a proper cry.
‘Are you okay?’ I asked.
‘Yeah,’ she said. ‘I mean . . . not really.’
‘What’s going on?’ I asked. Was Arlo okay? Was something going on with Aaron?
‘I’m so embarrassed,’ she said, flopping down onto the stool next to her workbench.
‘About what?’ I asked gently.
‘The business is... not doing well,’ she said, dropping her head into her hands. ‘Actually... it needs to be taken off life support.’
‘God. Okay,’ I said. ‘I’m sorry.’
She slowly lifted her head, vertebra by vertebra.
‘Before Arlo, I was able to give it my everything. But now it’s impossible to be totally on top of it.
And no one is spending money on stuff they want but don’t need at the moment.
Small businesses are shutting all over the city.
It’s all just, I don’t know. I think we’re done. ’
‘You’re going to shut Lily Li?’ I asked, trying to keep my voice as neutral as possible.
But I was shocked – this business felt like it was part of her.
It had originally been a market stall, and then when her designs had blown up on social media, she’d opened the store.
The brand had instantly taken on cult status and developed a following among the coolest people in the city.
She’d bootstrapped the whole business into the success it was. Or had been.
‘I need to get a job,’ she said in a small voice.
‘Our rent’s gone up. Our basic bills just keep getting bigger.
And the little bit of maternity leave I took ate into our savings.
We want to start saving for a house, though that feels like a pipe dream at this point.
Aaron can’t work any harder – he’s already onsite all day and then doing handyman stuff after work and on weekends. And I want Arlo to have a sibling.’
‘I can—’
‘Don’t offer me a loan,’ she said quickly.
‘It wouldn’t have to be a big deal,’ I said. I’d been saving for a deposit too – Lily could borrow whatever she needed.
‘It would only be a Band-Aid anyway,’ Lily said. ‘There’s no point keeping someone alive if they won’t make it.’
‘What kind of job do you want?’ I asked.
She laughed, a resigned one. ‘I don’t know. Something entry level,’ she said. ‘I’m not really qualified to do anything.’
‘That’s not true! You have a master’s degree. You’ve run your own amazing business. You’re one of the smartest, most talented people I know,’ I said. I reached out and held her hand.
‘Could you get a job as a jewellery designer for someone else?’ I asked.
‘People kill for those jobs,’ she said, and sighed. ‘And I need a part-time job or the childcare gets too expensive. I’ll need something with proper benefits – nothing vaguely creative has those. Maybe I’ll go to law school, Mia might hire me to be her paralegal.’
I didn’t reply, fighting my instinct to try to solve the problem, to try to think through the issue. Maybe what Lily needed was someone to listen, a shoulder to cry on.
‘I used to judge you,’ she said, smiling as she rubbed at her nose with a tissue. ‘I thought the way you insisted on enrolling in a degree and getting a job you didn’t care about was so unbelievably stupid. Like you were willing the world to make you miserable.’
I looked at her. Is that what she thought? Is that what I’d done?
‘But now, I think you’re a genius,’ she said. ‘I followed my dream and it’s all crumbling around me. I can’t give my son the things I want to, or even show him that it pays off to go after the thing you love. And it hurts... it hurts so much.’
She held both her fists against her chest, almost bent over as if she was recovering from a physical blow to her stomach.
‘I should have listened to my parents. They wanted me to go to grad school so I could always fall back on a steady job. But I was so stubborn, I thought there was no way I’d want a mortgage or the white picket fence or private health insurance or a car that’s not falling apart.
But now I do. I actually really want those things.
But you, you’ve always been a realist. You’ve always listened to your head.
And look at you – you’re killing it at work, you’re marrying the nicest guy in the world, you don’t have to worry every time you tap your credit card. ’
I opened my mouth, about to tell her all the many ways that I’d failed. But then I closed it. This wasn’t about me.
‘God, how’s Helena? Sorry, I’ve been talking about myself when she’s in hospital.’
‘I’m so glad we talked. And I want to keep talking, okay? Whenever you need to,’ I said. Lily reaffixed her smile as she wiped her eyes with the back of her ring-covered hand.
‘Dad messaged this morning to say that the X-ray showed that it’s a pretty bad fracture.
Mum’s seeing the foot doctor today, so they’ll be able to tell us if she needs surgery.
I’m going to see her now,’ I said. I paused for a moment, wondering whether to tell her about the fight I’d had with Mum.
And Nick. Or that I’d acted like a brat in Dad’s office.
‘I’m sorry yesterday got cut short. I did have an amazing time,’ I said instead. My phone lit up. I smiled, expecting it to be Matt telling me all about his night and checking in on me and Mum. Except it was Belinda.
‘Sorry, I just have to take this . . .’
I stepped out into the shop, which was still empty.
‘Hi Belinda,’ I said, in the brightest voice I could muster. Though I could feel my heart beginning to pump faster. To date, unexpected phone calls from wedding vendors hadn’t yielded great news.
‘Rebecca, I don’t know how to tell you this,’ she said. ‘But you can’t get married on your wedding day.’