Falling Away (17 page)

“You don’t look fine. Maybe you should see the doctor again?”

He sighs deeply. “I have, love. And it’s nothing to worry about. Leave that to your mother. She does enough of that for all of us.” He forges a weak smile, and he’s so different now. Like he’s lost himself. Lost the will to find himself. And it’s odd.

I study his face which becomes solemn. “You know you can tell me anything, Dad. Even if Mum doesn’t want you to. She won’t tell me what’s wrong and you won’t either. And it makes the worry worse. The doctor must have told you something, so tell me what it is.” The strength with which my words come surprises me. But I hold to them.
Hold
. Because I
need
to know.

Dad exhales, seemingly in defeat. And the interval offers him autonomy, if he’s brave enough to take it. He shrugs lower into his chair, slumping his shoulders. “All right then. I guess it can’t hurt for you to be in the loop. I’ve been wanting to tell you. And your brother, too. But I didn’t want you to worry.” He stops for a moment, as if considering his words and what he should say. How much. Or how little. He takes a deep breath. “It’s my heart, Sam. It’s gone into overdrive but we’re trying to rein it back in.”

My brow creases. “Overdrive? What are you talking about?”

“I have atrial fibrillation. So if it doesn’t slow down ...” he breaks off.

“What do you mean, if it doesn’t slow down?” He can’t be sick because it isn’t in the forecast. Dad needs relaxation. That’s all. He works too hard. And maybe he needs time. Away from
her
.

I need him to talk. For my sake. For my heart to slow. To resume some regularity. “So, you’re okay though, right? I mean, what does all this mean?”

He looks at me kindly. “It means it’s just a blip in the road, Sam. That’s all.”

A blip in the road? Major downplay, Dad.

And then he talks, and I don’t do anything more than sit here and listen. I feel like I’ve snuck onto a freight train, hitching a clandestine ride through the hours of darkness. I hide in the carriage behind the engine, and all I feel is a repetitious clack-clacking of wheels on the tracks, propelling us forward. All of us.

Afterwards he smiles like a weight’s been lifted. Like he’s been freed from incarceration, witnessing sky for the very first time. Finally the truth is revealed, and even though it’s harsh, at least it’s real.

I place my hand on his arm.

***

The breeze shifts. All I can hear is the rolling surf and an eagle cawing. And Dad’s words in my head, replaying. The sea is an undulating blue, but I don’t notice. I
can’t
notice. At times my ears play tricks on me and I think he’s here. But it’s just his voice like the wind, blowing through my head.

They’re trying to prevent a stroke. And heart failure. He’s taking Clexane and a monitor’s veiled beneath his clothes. He’s breathless and fatigued, but with monitoring he’ll be fine. Or so he says. If I could swim to the horizon I would, even through coiling waves and with aching arms I’d do it. Go all the way there, and then keep going. Because just as tomorrow never comes, you never quite reach that elusive horizon. So then I’ll run.

Ben’s here. He paddles out through hard cutting breakers and props beside me. I only need to look at his face to see that he knows.

“So, what d'ya reckon?” he asks, gliding belly-down over a rolling peak.

I shrug, looking at him. “I don’t think it’s good.”

He nods, twisting his mouth from the corner like he’s expecting the worst. The worst kind of news.

“Does Mum know we know?” I ask him.

Ben nods, slowly. “Yep.”

I lift my eyebrows. “And ... ?”

“And she’s not happy.”

“I don’t get why it matters,” I say. But I do, because it’s who she is.

“Yeah, you do.”

I snigger bitterly, remembering all the times I’ve been hurt. Too many to count. The times she’s tolerated me like a bitter pill. The way she retreats from life, from me, curling into a lifeless ball in the dark. How many times have I needed her? Needed her to be my mother and she hasn’t been anywhere in my line of sight. Not even close.

The waves draw up in transparent peaks and we roll across the top. They’ve softened, not so hard cut now, and the water’s so clear I see sunlight patterning the pale sandy bottom. We don’t speak, but we don’t have to. I know what’s hiding in his thoughts because it lurks in mine too.

We paddle hard for a wave that peels to the left, curling to whitewash further down the break. It’s a freaky four-footer and gives me a trouncing, victoriously tipping me forward and thrashing me like a foaming front-loader. But jeez, as my head hits the sand, for once that feels good.

Ben’s laughing like a hyena when I surface with my leg rope dragging at me like an annoying child.

“Whatever,” I say, pulling my board back toward me. I throw myself on and paddle past, wondering if I’ve grazed my forehead.

“Too funny. You just got seriously pounded.”

I shake my head, grinning.

***

With my demons now on the loose I head in to the beach. Towelling off, I watch Ben in the water. That stupid whistle from my Samsung jolts me to attention, and I notice a text from Jack.

Hey beautiful. Matt’s invited us to a party tonight. You wanna go? Nelson Bay. We can take the boat.

I catalogue my thoughts. Ben’s here. Dad’s sick. Mum’s pissed off. Yeah, I want to go.

Definitely

Life’s too short. Literally.

When Ben’s out I ask him too.

He thinks momentarily, and I can tell he’s tempted. “No, I better stay home. It probably wouldn’t go down too well.”

“You’re worried about
that
?”

“Yeah, I’m worried. Dad’s sick and Mum’s annoyed. Someone has to play peace-keeper.”

I roll my eyes. “Okay, piker. So who’s the loser now?”

He gives a dramatic eye roll. “Since when do you like parties, anyhow?”

“Since I need to get out of that house. Plus with Jack it’s different.”

He nods, understanding.

***

The night is dark, lit only by the lights on Jack’s boat. Seagulls follow our path, glowing with a pale purple fluorescence. The sky is freckled with stars, as if it too has been touched by the hand of sunshine.

I pull my denim jacket closer against my body and snuggle into Jack. He always feels warm, even when it’s cold. He looks down at me and smiles, kisses the top of my head.

“Lovebirds,” Matt jeers from behind. “What have you done to him, Sammy?”

I laugh, not knowing what to say. Jack senses my discomfort and squeezes me closer. “Do you ever give up, mate?”

“Mate, when it comes to you, I will never give up.”

Jack just gives a shake of his head.

I desperately want to get to this party. To lose myself in the drinking and dancing. For some reason her voice is playing on my mind. Over and over. She blames
me
for Dad being sick.
Me?
And now here I am again, wishing to be away. From her. And if the truth be known, from him too. Because looking at the paler, weaker version of my father isn’t easy.

When we arrive at the party it’s in full swing. No awkward standing around making small talk with people I don’t know. And I blend in easily. No-one notices us arrive because there are so many people here. The fibro house looks more like a shack, with paint peeling from the fascia and old lounges reclining in the yard. Matt sees friends from work and abandons us to the music, thumping so loudly my feet shudder with the boards.

“I’ll get you a drink,” Jack says, dragging me toward the makeshift bar to the rear of the garage.

Jack grabs two beers from a garbage bin brim-full of ice, twisting off the lids in his bare hands. He hands one to me and it’s refreshingly cold.

“Do you see anyone you know?” he asks, glancing around. He curls an arm around my waist and draws me into him.

I lean closer. “Nuh–uh,” I say, draining the beer. I’m going to need another one.
Or four.

Jack looks down, unable to hide his concern. “Are you okay? You seem kind of quiet and distracted tonight. Is something wrong? It’s not that guy from the café is it?”

I shake my head, feeling emotional, like if he presses too hard I’ll crack at the seams. And if that happens, who knows what the flood gates will release. “No, it’s not him,” I say, wondering if I should say more or let it lie undisturbed beneath my cracking exterior.

He draws back and looks right at me. “So what is it? Something’s wrong, I can see it in your eyes.”

I exhale slowly. “It’s Dad. I found out today he’s not well. There’s something wrong with his heart. And I’m not sure it can be put right.”

Jack frowns, looking slightly shocked. “Oh Sam,” he says, enclosing me in his arms. He presses a cheek against my hair and I lean into him. “I’m so sorry. How bad is it?”

I shrug against his chest. “I really don’t know. I don’t think he’s being honest because he doesn’t look good. So he’s either playing it down or just plain lying.” I feel a tear course over my cheek and I brush it away.

Jack notices and pulls back to check my face. “You want to get out of here?”

“No, I’d like to enjoy myself. I need to forget about today.” I look into his face, illuminated by a tacky lava lamp in the corner. It glows orange then green, shooting bubbles to the surface. They pattern across his skin. I place my arms around his neck and kiss him fervently. He responds immediately, until reluctantly I break contact. I look up meaningfully into his eyes. “And then I want to go home – with you.”

His eyes light, softening. “Whatever you want,” he murmurs, feathering kisses down my neck.

My body sparks at his touch, lighting my desire. He feels it too, kissing me like there’s no-one else in the room. Which for us, there isn’t. I want to be drunk and I want him in private. Preferably now. I’m alive when I’m with him, like nothing else matters and I can forget. Of course things matter, but my attraction to Jack pales everything else into insignificance. It’s like my mind plays dirty games with me. Making me believe that everything’s fine and that Dad will be okay. That it’s just as he says, a blip in the road.

“I’ll get you another drink. Same again?” Jack asks, releasing me from his arms.

“Yes, please.”

He presses his lips once more against mine. “Don’t go anywhere.”

“Be right here.” I watch him walk, his jeans hanging low on his hips and cute little dimples showing above his backside.

“Hey, Sammy,” a voice says hoarsely from behind. Hot breath whispers across my neck and I know it’s not Jack. I do however recognise the voice.

I swing around. “Riley,” I say as he hugs me firmly against him. The smell of his expensive cologne is so strong it’s like he’s bathed in it. I put my hands firmly on his chest and push back, holding him at arm’s length. He immediately drops his hands from my hips.

“I didn’t know you were coming, though I have to say, I’m
very
happy to see you. How do you know the birthday boy?”

“I don’t,” I say edging backwards. Yet again he’s invading my personal space.

He looks sideways at me, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans, grinning stupidly. “So how then do you come to be here?”

I sigh. “A good mate of Jack’s knows him. We came with him.” A confusing explanation, but he takes it in.

Riley narrows his eyes. “So Jack’s here, is he?”

I look him right in the eyes. “Of course he is.”

“Oh. I thought you might’ve come with Emily.” He courses a hand through his hair, pulling at it as if wanting to inflict pain. “So where is he then?” Riley glances swiftly around, scanning the heaving noisy room.

“Right here,” Jack says, surprising us from behind. He hands me a beer and runs an arm protectively around my waist.

“So you are,” Riley glares, sneering at Jack.

“Can we go outside?” I ask Jack. “Those lounges look pretty comfortable.” And it’s certainly not comfortable here with these two eyeballing each other like they’re going to rip each other to shreds.

“Like I said before, tonight is about whatever you want, babe.” He leans into me and squeezes my waist without removing his eyes from Riley’s.

Jack nods a tight acknowledgement to Riley as we head outside to plop into a lounge. Riley winks, giving me a flirtatious grin as I pass. It’s not long before he has another pretty girl under his arm, giggling and making him feel special. That guy really takes the cake.

The DJ is playing Top 40. Loud. The deck leads to a flat grassy yard where paper lanterns are strung from trees. It looks pretty, kind of like a romantic movie set but lacking the seductive atmosphere. There are people literally everywhere, squeezing against each other on the dance floor. Shrill squealing crescendos over the music. It’s way too noisy and maybe I don’t want to be here after all. I down another two beers while Jack’s being all responsible because he’s getting us home on his boat. We watch Matt disappear with a tacky blonde pressing large boobs and a skinny body up against him while they dance. Her skin is so orange it looks as if you could peel it. Matt doesn’t seem to care, just grabs her by the hand and leads her into the garden.

Jack lifts his eyebrows, chuckling. “Guess we won’t be seeing him again tonight,” he says, leaning closer so he doesn’t have to yell.

I laugh, the alcohol now coursing through my veins. “He seems to like orange Barbies.”

“You noticed,” Jack chuckles, rolling his eyes. “She’s exactly his type.” He looks down at me with his soft, tender eyes. “Want to dance? I know you’ve said it’s not your thing, but...”

“Yes,” I say, lifting myself from the lounge and dragging him up.

Jack gets to his feet, surprised. “I wasn’t expecting that.” He places a hand on the small of my back and pushes me gently toward the dance floor.

Ed Sheeran sings
Give me Love
and I feel Jack against me. He holds me to his chest and his heart beats in time to the song. With my eyes closed there is nothing else, just me and Jack under paper lanterns glowing softly in the trees. My corner of the world is right here, tucked into the soft blanket of night. Even the stars have dimmed, fading across the Milky Way ribbon that curls across the sky. And with him so close, I want more.
Need
more. He pulls back to looks at me, then draws me closer and rests his chin on top of my head. I wrap my arms tighter around his waist, knowing
exactly
what he means. Exactly what he wants.