7. Eden
Eden
As I sit with my family, I can’t help but fixate on the conversation I had with Todd. I knew it was going to be shit, and the situation didn’t disappoint. It did turn out to be quite surprising, though.
Once Meena got bored with her dad’s attention and she’d scarfed her burger and fries, we took her to the park where she left us in the dust to play with a young girl who had a dog. Anyway, Todd opened up to me, and I can honestly say I wasn’t expecting what he said.
“It’s such a mess, Eden.”
“I know, mate.”
“We weren’t even supposed to get married.
Fuck, we did it because of our parents, and look where it’s gotten us.
We were too young to have the kids. Too immature to deal with it all.
I knew as soon as Meena was born I was out of my depth, but couldn’t find the courage to just leave. I know Pia came close a few times.”
“Bloody hell, Todd.”
“Yeah, it’s fucked. Pia was right to leave. I mean fucking hell, I agreed to send my son away because her parents scare the living shit out of me. Have ever since I got Pia pregnant.”
“You can’t live like that, Todd. The kids deserve more.”
“Trust me I know. So do Pia and I.”
“So what? You’re not broken-hearted?”
“Oh, I’m gutted, believe me, but I think Pia was right to leave. I don’t want my kids to live in an unhappy household.”
“Have you explained this to Pia?”
“I will, but I think we both need this time apart. I miss them, all of them, but for the first time in years, Eden, I feel like I can breathe again.”
“Oh, I wish Sloane could’ve come,” Mum says as she serves up a batch of veggie chili, pulling me out of my thoughts.
“She had a last-minute appointment, it couldn’t be helped.”
A small part of me is worried she’s started to avoid me, but I have to trust she’s not.
It’s been years since anything this big has happened between us, so I’m a tad on edge with how she’s handling it mentally.
Not my place, because Sloane is strong and in control of her health now.
Old wounds run deep though, and I’m a fucking master of remembering the bad shit and letting it take up residence in my brain.
“Still, she works too hard. It’s Sunday,” Mum continues, not ready to let it go. It’s not escaped my notice that she’s getting a little…clingy? I’m not sure if that’s the right word, but she’s deffo upped her helicopter Mum persona by a factor of a million, which is out of character.
Mum and Dad were the most laid-back parents a kid could ask for…
until Gran got cancer, and then Mum seemed to change.
Even after Gran got the all clear, Mum started fretting more.
She needed to have us kids and our friends close by at all times.
Even ten years later and she’s constantly up my arse about visiting more.
Gran called me a few months ago and threatened to move to the Arctic if I didn’t stop Mum calling her all the time to check up.
I sigh. “Mum, she’s fine. It’s the first Sunday she’s worked in months. There’s a reason she’s so successful.”
“I’d still like to have seen her. You’re both so busy all the time.”
Rolling my eyes, I catch Jenna grinning at me. “Mum, behave. I’m here every Sunday. So is Sloane for the most part. Plus, you’ve got Pia and the kids keeping you busy, so chill out with the empty nest schtick.”
“Er, hello,” Jenna scoffs. “I’m also here, Mum.”
“I didn’t say you weren’t,” Mum chirps. “I just like it when all my kids are here, is that so wrong?”
“Liz, love, let’s just eat.” Dad laughs.
Huffing, she sits down at the table, mumbling to herself as we all titter.
“Have you finished breaking down?” Jenna asks.
Mum mock glares at her but doesn’t respond.
“What’s up, sweetie?” Dad asks. It’s only then that I see a gigantic fucking rock sitting on Jenna’s finger. Kiera is looking at her with hearts in her eyes.
“Holy shit,” I gasp. Mum looks at me and then Jenna, confused until the sun glints off the ring, making her squeal. The whole table erupts as Jenna announces Kiera asked her to marry her last night.
I don’t even remember standing up, but suddenly I’m hugging Jenna so hard her chair nearly tips. Mum’s in chorus, shrieking and weeping at the same time, Kiera beaming like she’s just won Olympic gold. Even Dad wipes his eyes, trying to pass off the tears as “onion vapours” from the chili.
“How did you keep this a secret for twelve hours?” I ask, honestly impressed. Jenna’s not known for her poker face or her ability to play the long game. Her entire emotional range is visible at all times, usually in the form of raised middle fingers or sprinting away from social discomfort.
The only time she was able to keep something to herself was when she remained friends with Sloane in college after it all went tits up between us. Frankly, she deserved a bloody Oscar for that performance. Or maybe recruitment into the CIA or something.
She shrugs and rubs her nose, bashful and proud. “I wanted to tell you first, but Kiera said we should make it a thing, y’know, all together. Family announcement.”
Mum is on the phone already, calling Gran and Grandad, narrating to the room as she goes.
“No, I’m not calling to harass you, mother. It’s about Jenna and Kiera. They’re engaged! You should see the ring…no, I don’t think there’s a date yet…yes, we’re over the moon, Mum. I’ll send you pictures.”
Dad refills everyone’s glasses, including the empty ones on the sideboard. I don’t think he’s fully aware of what he’s doing as he beams with pride, full of excited energy.
I glance at Kiera, and she’s already looking at me, face wide open, soft in a way that’s almost unrecognisable from the high school version of her—spiky, defensive, perpetually seconds from a fight…aka total bitch Soccer Captain Kiera.
I catch her eye and see she is still absolutely smitten with my demon sister. She’s found her person. My baby sister is marrying my high school nemesis. I knew Kiera was the one for Jenna years ago, but now they’re making it legal, I’m getting that feeling all over again.
“We’re not doing a big wedding,” Jenna says quickly, like she needs to preemptively squash any Sawyer-level planning. “Just a party, maybe in the backyard here, or at Benny’s, if they’ll let us bring a deejay. Oh, and no skulls or punk rock shit either!”
Dad snorts, as do I. Mum’s face contorts, pained, but she’s trying to be supportive. “Whatever makes you girls happy,” she manages, before turning to Kiera. “But you must let us throw a shower. Please. Or a hen party. I’ll even let you pick the theme.”
Kiera considers. “I want a theme that scares everyone a little. Like…Viking Princesses.”
I snort again because that’s a fucking great idea. Kiera isn’t as alternative-life challenged as my baby sister.
Jenna leans into her side and grins. “Deal.”
Does she not remember the Hen Do Mum organised for me and Sloane? It was utter carnage. Think of The Hangover, British Style. Why the bloody fuck would she trust our mother with her own?
Kiera looks at me wide-eyed, only just comprehending what she’s agreed to. I chuckle because no doubt she’ll be reminding her fiancée before the night’s end. But there’s no getting out of it now. Jenna may as well have signed in blood.
Fuck, this is going to be entertaining.
I watch the two of them and smile. They click together. Kiera’s hand covers Jenna’s and grounds her. Jenna lets herself be soft only around Kiera.
Mum eventually hangs up, dabbing at her eyes. I forgot she still had Gran on the line, so now she knows there’s going to be a Hen Do, I expect a visit from her and Grandad.
“We should do a toast,” Mum declares, still high as a kite on adrenaline. She looks around, searching for glasses, but everyone’s already half-raised their wine in anticipation.
“To my girls,” Mum calls, voice trembling with pride. “And to the entire wild, beautiful, bizarre tribe we’ve built.”
Bella and Becca will be pissed they missed this.
After dinner, Jenna and Kiera disappear to the garden, probably to call more friends or make out behind the greenhouse. I help Dad clean up, passing dishes in the easy rhythm of old muscle memory.
“She’s happy,” Dad says, not looking at me, just rinsing a pan.
“She really is.”
He nods, then gives me a sharp, sudden look. “What about you, E?”
I freeze, spoon poised over the sink. He waits, patient as always. I wonder what he’d say if I told him that Sloane wants a baby, and that I might actually be considering it.
Mum and Dad have always been able to read me.
Dad isn’t like any other man I’ve met, in that he is really in tune with his feelings and isn’t afraid to talk about them.
He counselled me through many a teenage trauma.
Seems nothing has changed now I’m in my third decade of life, and I secretly love that.
I don’t know what I’d do without his and Mum’s constant support, even if it’s in the form of odd conversations over a bowl full of dirty pots.
“I’m good,” I finally say.
He nods, but I know he doesn’t entirely believe me. “You’ll tell us if you’re not, yeah?”
“Yeah,” I promise.
When the dishes are done, I slip outside. Jenna’s sitting on the back steps, Kiera curled up next to her, both sipping beers and talking quietly.
I flop down next to them and steal a sip from Jenna’s bottle.
“Hey,” she says, nudging my shoulder.
“Hey, yourself,” I reply, unbothered.
The three of us sit there, not saying much, listening to the drone of bees and the distant squawk of a neighbour’s parrot.
Eventually, Kiera nudges Jenna. “Should we tell her?”
Jenna groans. “Fine.” She looks at me, then the grass, then at me again. “We want you to be our Best Woman. For the party. You know, represent the Sawyer clan.”
I wonder if she’ll ever call it a wedding instead of a party?
I blink. “What, like Maid of Honour but gayer?”
“Exactly,” Kiera says, deadpan.
I grin. “I’m honoured. I’ll wear a tux. With a crop top made out of mesh. Doc Martens are a must, too.”
Jenna makes a face, but I know she’d secretly love that. There’s no way she can keep all Punk out of her wedding.
“Done.” She sighs like it’s the hardest decision in the world.
The sun keeps sinking, and we keep sitting.
After a while, I get up, stretch my legs, and head inside to find Mum.
She’s in the living room, cross-stitching a pillow with the words “LOVE IS LOVE” in rainbow thread.
It’s clear she’s been hanging out with Becca.
The living room looks like an offshoot of Bec’s Etsy store.
“Isn’t it exciting?” She beams.
“Yeah. The best news. I’m really happy for them both.”
I think about Sloane, probably still at work, probably thinking about me and maybe even rehearsing how to bring up the baby thing again.
Maybe I could do it. Maybe we both could.
I don’t think I’m capable of thinking about anything else right now, even in the face of Jenna and Kiera’s massive news. Everything comes back to that conversation. A wave of need comes over me. It’s not the sexy kind, but the homely kind. I need to have Sloane close to me.
I say goodbye and promise to come back next week before driving home with the windows down.
Unsurprisingly, Pia and the kids are staying at my parents’ house again after they’ve had a night at the movies with copious amounts of popcorn.
Pia, like Bella and Becca, will be pissed she wasn’t there for the engagement news.
Pia’s not asked me how it went with Todd yet, and I’m hoping she doesn’t anytime soon because I really don’t want to repeat what Todd said.
That’s not my place. Hopefully they talk soon and start sorting their shit out.
When I get home, the house is dark except for the sliver of light coming from the kitchen.
I push open the door, noticing the yard needs another fucking cut.
God, it never ends. Sloane is asleep at the table, cheek pressed to a stack of folders.
Her hair’s fallen into her eyes, and she’s drooling a little onto a spreadsheet.
Obviously I take out my phone and snap a picture.
It’s our thing. We’ve got hundreds of godawful pictures of each other loaded on the cloud.
I watch her for a minute before gently shaking her awake.
She blinks, then grins, still half asleep. “Hey, babe.”
“Hey, yourself. You ready for bed?”
She nods and stretches. I pull her up, wrapping one arm around her waist and the other under her leg. Scooping her up, I walk us towards the stairs. She smells of coffee and exhaustion and the faintest trace of her perfume. I kiss her on the forehead and take her to our bedroom.
We crawl into bed, legs tangled, arms wrapped tight. I should shower, but I don’t want to let her go.
“Love you,” I whisper, kissing her hair as she snuggles into me closer. I’ll tell her Jenna’s news in the morning. She needs to sleep, and I need a few more hours to mull over a decision that’s going to rock our world.
Sloane squeezes me close. “Love you more.”
As her breath slows and she starts her motor purring, I find it hard to drift off.
There’s just too much floating around in my head, and I’d normally creep out of the room to paint, but I don’t think art is going to help this time.
The sketch I made of our hands holding what can only be my vision of our baby’s hand is all the art therapy I need on that particular subject.
It didn’t bring me the clarity I had hoped. The problem is, I don’t know what will give me what I need to decide. Is it a leap of faith, or do I need to think it to death?
Maybe I should take a leaf out of my wife’s book and make a spreadsheet?
Lol, never going to happen. Nah, I need to get to the root of my anxiety where kids are concerned. Am I just someone who doesn’t want a child of their own, or am I scared of the responsibility? Of everything having a kid brings?
I need to talk to my gran.