Chapter 21 #3
Ah, the first-name usage returns.
Denise tutted slightly. ‘You need to learn how to switch off, you know. It’s like you don’t know how to relax unless someone gives you permission.’
‘I’ll have a break.’
‘Promise me,’ Denise replied, crossing her arms. Even Bob’s head reappeared back on-screen, floating halfway up the side of my phone with a tea towel wrapped around his shoulder like a cape.
‘I promise.’
‘Good,’ Denise said, patting Bob’s back like it was a drum, for no other reason than that she could.
It was typical Mum-and-Dad behaviour, but they weren’t my mum and dad.
They never adopted me, out of respect for my mum, who had loved me fiercely and deserved to keep her place in my life.
I’d understood that, even at ten years old.
What I hadn’t reckoned, at the time that decision was made, was how it would leave me feeling untethered, as if I belonged everywhere and nowhere at the same time.
Growing up in foster care, even in a familial and loving home, I was always aware that eighteen wasn’t so much a birthday as a line in the sand.
I was on my own from then on, no matter how much love Denise and Bob may offer.
They weren’t my mum and dad and legally they weren’t able to offer much beyond an unfunded roof over my head.
That alone made me feel guilty, as if I offered nothing in return for their kindness. And fear that it would all be taken away. Just like it had been with Mum.
They were my guardians, my caregivers, and occasional life coaches. But in this moment over FaceTime, for the first time I recognised that they were simply two people that loved me.
I sniffled and adjusted my seat, feeling the familiar lump return.
‘Why is it,’ I began, chuckling lightly to reset my emotions, ‘that just as I’m about to start this exciting new job, in this fantastic new country, that I suddenly find myself with opportunities in the city I’m about to leave behind? ’
Denise laughed knowingly off-camera. ‘This doesn’t happen to involve the man that doesn’t exist, does it?’ Bob’s head returned at the side of my phone before Denise’s did.
I rolled my lips together. ‘Maybe?’
‘Bob,’ Denise said, still grinning and patting his back. ‘I think you should plan on blowing up that air bed.’
‘Oh, I don’t think we’re there yet,’ I said over Bob’s rising voice about not enough room – there was always enough room.
‘Why not?’ Denise pressed, her grin widening as she closed in on the screen.
‘Because I’m leaving in January,’ I reminded her, as if saying it aloud could hammer the fact into my own brain as much as hers.
It had been mere seconds since we had discussed it.
Surely she couldn’t think starting a relationship less than two weeks out from leaving for a permanent job on the other side of the world was the best idea?
Even for a romantic – however practical – as Denise.
She pfted at me. ‘Darling, it’s Christmas. Have some fun.’
I swallowed, my heart tightening in my chest. Simon had told me – no, scolded me – for never putting myself first. For always choosing the practical option, the safer route, the one that didn’t leave me open to getting hurt.
And he wasn’t wrong. I could still hear his voice, direct but earnest, cutting through my usual self-preservation: It seems like you’re maybe making decisions based on what’s easiest, instead of what you actually want.
I didn’t want to leave London and regret it.
I didn’t want to go to Canada and think of him.
I didn’t want to change my life for a man who hadn’t even asked me out.
And yet… he had kissed me. Kissed me so passionately, so perfectly, that I had felt it down to my toes. That had to mean something. Didn’t it?
‘I don’t want to hurt anyone,’ I said finally, my voice quieter.
‘And is it serious enough that you could?’ she asked, her tone changing subtly as Bob’s head reappeared, but this time attached to his body. He wrapped his arm around Denise’s waist.
The two of them on-screen were everything you saw when you thought of a happily married couple of thirty-odd years. Content, comfortable, and joyful. It was the perfect picture, which I had never realised I wanted or could picture for myself. Until now.
‘It could,’ I admitted. My heart did a double flutter inside me as I acknowledged it, not just to them but to myself. I’d never talked about my feelings like this before; it felt strange and slightly exposing. But it also felt safe.
Denise and Bob weren’t leaning in or bracing for impact, they were just listening.
They were treating it as something worth hearing rather than a problem to solve.
‘Well, then…’ Denise said, kissing Bob on the cheek and clamping his mouth shut with her hand.
‘The air mattress will be ready, and we will be there for you no matter what.’
In one sentence, my whole future – the one I had so meticulously planned out and committed to – felt both completely untethered and yet, at the same time, more secure than ever.