No Kiss Goodbye (4 page)

‘Call me if you need anything,’ Mark says as he finally leaves to go downstairs.

The soft bubbles are heavenly as they float against my skin. The smell of eucalyptus is a little overbearing, but compared to the smell of the hospital, it’s delightful. I pull the bottle off the windowsill and read the label, just to make sure Mark hasn’t accidently emptied in toilet cleaner instead of bubble bath. Romantic gestures like this aren’t Mark’s thing. He’s even gone to the trouble of lighting a few candles and dotting them across the back of the toilet.

When the water begins to cool to the point of being uncomfortably chilly, I decide it’s time to call for Mark. I start with a little shout, but he doesn’t hear me. A couple more yells go unanswered. Finally, I begin shouting throat-scathingly loud as I become uncontrollably panicked.
What will I do if Mark doesn’t hear me?
I’ll be stuck. It’s a Jacuzzi bath, not a tsunami, but either way, I’m stranded until someone comes to rescue me.

I’ve worked myself into a complete frenzy with forceful screaming and intermittent tearful crying before Mark comes racing up the stairs, apologising profusely.

Getting dressed is every bit the struggle as undressing was. I’m distressed by my helplessness, and I know my unintentional lack of cooperation is irritating Mark. I’m honestly not trying to be difficult, but my indulgence in self-pity is definitely becoming worse rather than better.

After an exhausting trek downstairs, Mark plonks me uncomfortably into the wheelchair that waits patiently for me after the last step. The metal of the large wheels bangs viciously off the kitchen door as Mark tries several angles to get the bloody thing to push through the frame. We eventually have to give up, and Mark wearily carries me into the kitchen instead.

I catch a glimpse of Mark’s laptop on the counter. It’s open on a web page about grants for home modification. My heart sinks.
Mark thinks this will be long term.
He thinks I’ll be stuck like this!
I want to argue, but I can’t bring it up now. We have guests.
Bugger!
A combination of embarrassment and resentment hit me as I spot Ava and Nicole sitting at the kitchen table, smiling happily. Nicole scrambles to her feet as we near the kitchen table, and she quickly pulls out the chair beside her for Mark to set me down on. She sits back down and silence falls over everyone.

I stare at the table. It’s littered with half-empty cups of coffee and the crumbs of what was obviously a plate of biscuits. I glare at Mark. He had been downstairs entertaining while I was disintegrating in an icy bath. I worry this scene is a taste of the future; a future where I will become more and more absent. Even in my own home.

I attempt to join in the conversation. I nod along and pretend to have a keen interest in what they’re saying. But I’m easily distracted. Every time Ava stands up to go to the toilet, I’m jealous as I watch her walk effortlessly across the room. Every time Mark crosses or uncrosses his legs, I’m jealous. When Nicole lightly taps the heel of her shoe against the ground in time to the beat of the song on the radio that plays softly in the background, I’m not just jealous – I’m insanely irritated.

I stare at my watch numerous times. I hope Nicole takes the hint, especially since I’ve shoved my arm so close to her face that I’ve almost scratched her nose. But when she’s first to pour a refill from the fresh pot of coffee Mark’s made, I know she doesn’t plan to leave anytime soon.

Ava is filling us all in on her wedding plans, oblivious that neither Mark nor Nicole seem to be listening. They are too busy studying me. Looking me up and down and nodding to each other afterwards. At first, I think I imagine it, and brush it off as just being oversensitive about everything. But when Ava whispers to me about how rude they are being, I’m tempted to confront them about their ignorance. I bite my tongue. Now is not the time.

Nicole continues to bug me with her fake laughter and random batting of her eyelashes.
Christ! Just fuck my husband already and get it over with.
I pull my mind back from those dark places. Nicole natters away to Mark as if they’ve been best friends for twenty years; behaving more like a part of the family than a nosy neighbour. They exchange jokes and a Cajun chicken recipe. Mark, who hasn’t turned on an oven since almost burning down his flat while in college, insists it sounds amazing and he must give it go.
Are they fuckin’ kidding me?
He returned the Jamie Oliver cookbook I got him for Christmas last year for a
Game of Thrones
DVD, yet there he is planning to become the next
Master Chef
winner.

I zone in and out of the conversation. My mind drifts back to the accident before I quickly pull it away again and block it out.

‘The classes start next Friday, but the deposit has to be paid by tomorrow,’ I hear Ava say.

Nicole doesn’t reply.

‘Don’t worry if you’re not into dancing - I’m useless. That’s why it will be fun,’ Ava continues.

‘What’s this?’ I ask, finding myself finally taking an interest in what they were talking about.

‘The pole fitness class I was telling you about,’ Ava explains to me.

‘Oh yeah…I remember. Are you still thinking of going?’

‘I really want to, but I don’t want to go on my own. Help me convince Nicole to come.’ There’s giddy excitement in Ava’s voice.

I try to hide my disappointment. Ava and I were supposed to go to that class together. I was anxious to find a fun way to lose weight after having Katie, and Ava wanted to get in shape after years of just sitting around the office. We were going to make it a girls’ night out and go for a drink or two after the class. Now all that seems as unrealistic as a fairy tale.

‘Are you okay, Laura?’ Nicole asks suddenly.

I glare at the interfering woman I had grown to hate.

‘You were talking to yourself.’

I shake my head to protest, but I notice Ava has left the room. That wasn’t the first time Ava has left in the middle of a conversation without saying goodbye. Lately, every time I’m distracted, even for the briefest of moments, Ava disappears.

It’s only when the room begins to spin that I realise I’m still shaking my head. Nicole tries to steady me, but I resist her touch, pushing her to the ground accidentally with a strength I didn’t know I had.

A little vomit rises in my throat, and my palms begin to sweat. I can see Nicole’s lips moving, but I can’t hear her voice. I search the kitchen frantically for Mark, but I can’t find him because the room is spinning so fast around me. Furniture and walls are just a mess of muddled colours closing in on me. My body begins to tremble furiously, and I struggle to breathe. I blink and my eyes refuse to reopen. I’m alone in the darkness. Again.

I wake lying neatly tucked into bed with a sharp headache. Someone is knocking gently on the bedroom door, but my head hurts so much I feel as if they were hammering against my skull.

Doctor Hammond opens the door and lurks erringly in its frame. He stands silent for what feels like an eternity. I struggle to pull myself into a sitting position. Doctor Hammond’s staring is making me uncomfortable, as it always does. I know he wants to discuss what just happened. Tiptoeing around is just going to prolong the discomfort for everyone.

‘Hi, Laura,’ he finally says, softly.

‘Hi.’

‘How are you feeling now?’ His caring seems fake and rehearsed. Or maybe it’s just my mood. I desperately want to be left alone. He’s walking towards the bed, and I grab the duvet tight in my fists. He must sense my discomfort because he glances backwards and nods his head slightly. Mark suddenly appears from the shadows on the landing, and I ease my grip on the duvet.

‘You okay, honey?’ Mark asks. His voice is strange; on edge. Exhausted maybe.

‘Not really; I don’t remember how I got upstairs.’

‘I carried you,’ Mark explains.

Well, no wonder he’s exhausted
. Carrying me around the house all day must really be taking it out of him. My mind wanders to the information I’d seen on Mark’s computer. Maybe a grant would cover one of those fancy stair lift things. I wonder if installation would damage the wallpaper. There’s no way we could afford one ourselves. I’ll download the forms later and we can fill them out when Dr. Doolittle pisses off. I snap back to reality when I feel Mark poking me in the shoulder, pulling me to sit back against the pillows he’s propping.

‘I know you are struggling to deal with everything that has happened, Laura, so I am going to give you a little medicine to help you sleep,’ Doctor Hammond says as he rolls up the sleeve of my t-shirt. I shake my head. But I’m tired. I look at Mark for reassurance. He’s nodding supportively.

The needle stings as it pierces my flesh, and I shudder and pull away. Mark’s arms wrap tightly around me, and I can’t fight against him. I don’t want to. I accept the peaceful feeling that follows and allow myself to drift off to sleep.

My sleep is littered with strange disjointed dreams. As if my mind has invited every memory I’ve ever had to come and have a drunken house party in my skull. I can remember most of the images when I wake up, but they are so messed up that I have no idea what they are about. Maybe it’s a good thing. I’ve been over analysing everything lately. It’s pointless to try to do the same with meaningless dreams.

I’m still half asleep as I lay earwigging on the conversation between Mark and Doctor Hammond. They’re downstairs, no doubt consuming more of Mark’s infamous coffee and discussing everyone’s recent favourite topic - me. I’m frustrated that the sound is muffled as it carries through the floorboards.

‘I really think Laura needs to come back to the hospital,’ Doctor Hammond says.

‘No! She wasn’t happy there.’ I can hear Mark more clearly than the doctor, so I know he’s shouting.

‘She’s not happy here either,’ Doctor Hammond replies.

Yes, I am.

‘I know. But she will be. She is coming around. She will be back to normal soon.’

‘Mark, I know you are not foolish enough to believe there is a quick fix to all this.’

Neither man speaks. It’s deathly silent.

‘I have to help her,’ Mark says at last. ‘She’s still my wife, for God’s sake.’

‘I only want to help her, too.’

‘Please,’ Mark begs. ‘I don’t want her to go back to the hospital. I will get through to her. She will be fine. Please. I just need more time.’

‘Okay,’ Doctor Hammond finally agrees. ‘We can give it one more week. But we really need to see some improvement in her memory by then.’

What a prick. How dare he lay down the law to Mark.

‘I understand. Thank you, thank you,’ Mark repeats over and over.

‘Don’t thank me yet. Another outburst like this and we’ll be left with no more options. She’ll have to come back with me. You understand why, don’t you?’

I don’t hear Mark’s reply.

‘Baby steps, Mark. Baby steps. I know it’s hard, but we’re just taking it one day at a time. But don’t lose hope. She needs all the hope she can get.’ Nicole has the last word.

Hearing her voice shakes me. Why is she here? And especially when my medical condition is being discussed.
Fuck off!

Mark

I drag my sleeve across my eyes to wipe away the tears as I tuck the soft, pink blanket neatly into the corners of Katie’s cot. Katie’s room at my parents’ house is fit for a princess. The dreary guestroom I remember growing up in has been transformed into an exquisite nursery with every baby gadget imaginable. But my parents didn’t stop there. They were so excited about having a granddaughter that they even placed an announcement in the local paper a few days after Laura and I showed them the scan picture. Katie was the first little girl to come into my family in three generations. It was huge.

I stare at the frilly pink bows that tie back the cot bumper. They’re pretty and delicate.
Just like Katie.
My chest tightens and I’m hyper aware of my heartbeat, so I have to look away. I toss my head to the ceiling and gaze at the plastic cerise pink chandelier that my mother ordered from some grossly overpriced online baby store. One of the bulbs isn’t working, and I think about changing it, but I shrug off the notion. I know I should leave the room; I’ve been in here almost an hour. But my feet are heavy, as if they’re set in cement, and all I want to do is lie down right here on the floor and sleep.

My mind has drifted far away when I feel Nicole’s hand lightly on my shoulder. I don’t turn around. I try not to react at all as I pull my sleeve over my hand and use the already damp material of my jumper to dry my face. Nicole slips her arms around my chest and rests her head on my shoulder. I soak up her comfort.

‘Are you okay? Are you still freaked out about what the doctor said?’ Nicole asks in a delicate whisper.

‘He said she needs to show some improvement soon or he’ll take her back to the hospital. He’ll take her back, Nicole.’ The words are catching in my throat, and I can feel my palms begin to sweat. ‘I can’t let that happen. God knows what Laura will tell him if he keeps prying.’

Nicole takes my hands in hers and tucks them against her chest. Her grip is tight as she rocks back and forth.

‘You are going to be okay, Mark. I promise.’

I want to tell Nicole not to make promises she can’t keep, but I keep my mouth shut.

‘And, in the meantime, it’s okay to fall apart every now and then. This is hard, shit hard, you know. You don’t have to be this super-strong person all the time. No one expects that of you.’

‘I am okay,’ I lie. ‘It’s just guilt, I think…yeah, that’s it. I feel so fucking guilty. I know when Laura finds out it’ll break her heart. I don’t want to do that to her. I almost wish she never had to know.’

Nicole looks disappointed in my confession.

‘She deserves to know the truth, Mark. Maybe you should just tell her.’

‘That’s not how this works, and you fucking know it,’ I snarl. ‘We’ve talked about this. You agreed this is the best way.’

Nicole closes her eyes. ‘Yeah, I know. Sorry. It’s just that waiting is hard, you know.’

I roll my shoulders. ‘I didn’t say it was easy.’

‘I never said you did.’

I have to look away. Nicole looks like she’s about to cry, and I know it’s my fault. She lets go of my hands and steps back.

‘I’m sorry,’ Nicole whispers.

‘Me, too.’

‘Look, I hate all this pretence, Mark. I can’t lie. But I know you’re just trying to protect Laura as much as you can...’

‘But that’s the problem. I can’t protect her from herself. No one can.’

‘You don’t think she would hurt herself, do you?’

‘Yeah. Maybe. Sometimes! Do you think she would?’

‘Yeah. Maybe. Sometimes,’ Nicole echoes.

I force a painful lump of air down my throat and press my hands against my head. Hard enough to pinch. ‘I have to go back.’

‘I know.’

‘No. I mean now. Right now. I need to get back to the house. Christ, I never should have left her. What the fuck was I thinking?’

Nicole puts her hand on my shoulders. ‘It’s okay, stop freaking out. Laura’s asleep.’

‘No. It’s not okay. It’s so not okay.’

‘You need a break, Mark. You can’t keep going like this. You’re driving yourself into the ground.’

I toss my shoulder away from Nicole’s hand. ‘I’m fine. Or I will be fine when I get back to the house.’

I race downstairs, fling open the sitting room door, and find my mother watching her favourite soap from the couch. She quickly reaches for the remote control and fiddles with the buttons to try to turn off the blaring television in the corner.

‘What is it?’ my mother asks, standing up. ‘Has something happened?’

‘No. Well, not yet anyway, but I have to go home. I should never have left Laura alone.’

My mother sighs, and I see her rigid body relax.

‘Mark, you’re here less than an hour. Laura will be fine on her own for a little while.’

‘You don’t know that! God, why did I ever leave her alone? I’m so stupid. What if Laura woke up? God knows what clues she could find lying around the house. She could come to any number of conclusions.’
Shit, shit, shit
. ‘I have to go.’

Nicole thunders down the stairs and almost skids on the hall tiles as she comes to a stop just behind me.

‘Honey, sit down,’ my mother orders as she drapes her arm over my shoulder and tries to steer me towards the couch. ‘You’re in no fit state to drive. Your father is in the kitchen making some coffee. I’m sure he can stretch it as far as a cup for his only son.’

I’m shaking my head so hard it’s blurring my vision.

‘Keep an eye on him,’ my mother whispers as she passes Nicole. 

‘Tom, Mark wants a cup of coffee,’ my mother shouts towards the kitchen as she leaves the room.

‘No, Mom, I don’t need coffee. I need to go.’ I race after her.

My mother turns around and so much concern and worry are written in the lines of her face that it breaks my heart. And all I can do is offer her a reluctant smile.

‘Okay, honey. Okay,’ she placates, and for such a slim, agile lady, she suddenly looks heavy and weary.

I rush from room to room, frantically gathering up random bits and pieces. I grab my phone and my coat. Then spin around in circles, searching every room for Mr. Snuggles, the teddy I brought to the hospital for Katie’s arrival. And then I remember; the furry, brown bear is lying next to his beautiful, young owner. Mr. Snuggles is keeping baby Katie company.

‘Mark, calm down, please. You’ll make yourself ill,’ Nicole advises. ‘I’ll gather everything while you start the car.’

‘Nonsense!’ my mother exclaims quite loudly. ‘The only thing you need to take home is yourself. None of this other stuff matters right now. Nicole is right. You need to calm down or you’ll be the one who ends up in the hospital, and that certainly will be no good to Laura.’

I come to a stop, standing in the middle of the floor, letting my hands fall limp by my side. The routine that Laura has always been such a stickler for has descended into chaos. I ache for familiarity. I know our lives have changed permanently, but if I could just find a hint of who we used to be, perhaps stability and calmness would follow.

‘Yeah you’re right, Mom. I’m just going to go…’ I say.

‘Good,’ Patricia confirms with a clap of her hands. ‘Now, go on. And drive carefully, for God’s sake.’

***