54
“Are you sure you’re up for this?” I ask, watching Abi slowly pack her bag for the weekend. It’s only been a week since I watched her crumpled over, sitting on the toilet.
“It’s Paige’s birthday,” she says, throwing her fluffy pink pyjamas into her overnight bag. “We promised we’d be there and, at the risk of sounding like a child, I just want my mum.”
I nod silently as Abi follows me out of the apartment and into the courtyard. I watch her carefully to see if she looks over at his apartment, but she keeps her eyes firmly fixed on the gate. She’s making progress.
“What do you want to listen to?” I ask, hovering my finger over the different playlists.
“Something fun,” she says, settling into the passenger seat.
“Nineties pop it is.” I press play, shifting the car into reverse.
My car has been sitting out here for months, collecting dust. I used to love driving without a destination in mind, but since moving here, the city traffic isn’t worth battling for the brief misconception of freedom.
The hours tick by as we sing loudly and eat candy, and when Abi’s house appears up ahead, I can’t help but be grateful that the long drive is over.
I pull the car into the driveway, and as I’m shifting it into park, Rita and Paige burst out of the front door.
Abi takes a deep breath, opens the car door and climbs out.
She walks towards her mum, her body beginning to shake as she gets closer.
Rita’s concerned eyes flicker to me. She wraps her arms around her daughter, and I watch Abi break down for what I hope is the last time.
“What’s wrong with her?” Paige asks, opening my car door for me.
“Hey there, teen queen,” I say, hopping out and giving her a tight hug. “Abi and Brooks broke up, so she’s a little sad.”
“I didn’t like him,” she says honestly. I would love to have the liberty to say whatever I wanted all the time without fear of repercussions.
“I didn’t either,” I say, passing Abi’s bag to her. She struggles a little, but the girl’s got muscles and eventually manages to cart her sister’s over-packed bag inside.
I ask Paige to help me bring the bags upstairs, giving Abi some much-needed quality time with Rita.
As I follow her, I almost forget to keep a lookout for Mr Whiskers.
It’s not until I spot him hiding between the posts that the memory of his past attacks comes flooding back, and I jump out of his reach, anticipating a vicious lash that never comes.
“That’s so funny,” Paige says with a giggle. “I was expecting him to swipe you. Cats are smart, you know? They can tell when someone doesn’t like them.”
I bend down to pat Mr Whiskers with my free hand, and he nudges it with the top of his head, purring.
“Well, Poppet, it looks like I’m a cat person after all.”
I spend the next hour playing board games with Paige in her bedroom, trying to give Abi some alone time with Rita.
When the sound of Daniel’s car turning into the carport signals that it’s dinner time, we jump up from the floor and race down the stairs to the dining room.
Abi is setting the table with Rita. Her eyes are puffy from crying, but she looks as though a weight has been lifted from her shoulders.
“Did you tell Rita?” I whisper, sliding up beside her.
“I told her.”
“And you’re ok?”
“Yes,” she says confidently, and for the first time in weeks, I know she’s not lying.