Nothing Matters (Family Matters Book 1) (25 page)

He asks to stay the night and we go to bed.  He starts to kiss, to touch and it feels like old times, it feels good, but there's a lingering thought that I won't go through with anything, not all the way, that it wouldn't feel right.  Not when he's leaving tomorrow.  And even though I want to feel his touch, feel his hand on my skin, I resist, pull back, freeze up.  If I let him, if I let myself fall for him, I may not like myself in the morning.  I don't want a goodbye fuck for old times sake.  I don't want to be that sort of girl.

And I don't want to see him pack his bag, or say goodbye.  So we sit down over a breakfast of toast and juice, still talking as if everything is fine, but ignoring the obvious. He takes a shower, and I quickly put on my wetsuit, take my board and leave.  I don't want to cry in front of him again, don't want to feel my heart breaking as he takes his suitcase out the door, don't want to wonder if we're doing the right thing.

I drive up the coast, and think that I should have left him a note, something cute, something funny, but humor had escaped me.  I thought about texting him, but even then nothing came to mind.  I meet up with Jarryd for a few hours and again it clears my head, I feel light, free.

When I get home Flynn has left a note on the kitchen table, damn him.  Why couldn't he have just left?  A note indicated finality.  Magdala, it read, will miss your cooking, invite me for dinner sometime, love heaps, Flynn.  I smiled, and I cried, and cried some more.  I went into the bedroom, but didn't look through any drawers, didn't want to see emptiness.  I tidied up, made the bed, surprised to see a condom under his pillow.  He wanted me, and I laughed at the irony of it all.  If only we'd used one all that time ago, if only he had worn one, we would probably never be right here at this point.  Our lives would have diverged along unknown pathways.

Cassian rang.  "Anything happening?"          

"I went up to Malibu," I said, "and Flynn moved out."

He didn't seem surprised, and said, "Are you moving home?"

"No."

"You should," he said.  "Come home.  Please."

"No," I said, "this is home.  This was Cassidy's home." 

"Are you moving in for me or for you?" I asked Cassian, as he brought up another pile of clothes on hangers.  It was the following weekend.  The two bedroom apartment was not large and he had decided he was moving into Cassidy's room, which still had her crib in it.  So there was not a lot of room for him and his gear.

"For both of us," he smiled.  "Nineteen and still living at home doesn't sound that cool," he winked at me.

"There are rules," I joked.  "No eating in the bedrooms, do your own dishes, tell me if you're having overnight visitors."

"Wow, you're bossy," he said, "and why can't I eat in the bedroom?"

"Crumbs!" I said.  Since being in my own place, I'd actually become a bit of a clean freak.  Usually Cash was known for that, he was excessively neat and tidy so I knew I'd have no worries in that department, but I was surprised that I placed so much emphasis on it because at home my room had been quite messy.  And Flynn wouldn't have been joking when he said he'd miss my cooking, because that was another area I actually found I enjoyed.  None of my meals were culinary masterpieces, but I found creating meals quite satisfying.  "Do you want to set up a cooking roster?"

"What?  Are you making this all official?" he asked.  "Shouldn't just whoever is home do the cooking?"

"You have no idea," I laughed, "you've been pampered your whole life!"

"Only as much as you," he shot back.  I was quite flattered that Cassian had said he would move in with me.  Everyone was trying to convince me to go back home, and everyone was on my back about going back to school.  To placate them I said I'd go back in the New Year. 

I text Flynn and he comes and picks me up. I haven't seen him much since he left, but I know he's had exams and had taken a trip to San Francisco over the Christmas break.  He doesn't seem that keen to come to the apartment these days, especially after finding out that Cassian has moved in.  He even rain checked my beef fajitas one night because Cash was going to be home, after practically begging me to make him some.

He hugs me and asks me how I'm doing.  I tell him I'm okay.  But I'm dreading school, dreading the work, dreading talking to people.

"Do you want me to stay close?" he asks. I nod, but we actually only have one science class together still, so I know I won't see much of him.

I keep my head down all day, trying to be anonymous, blending in, and am surprised by how many of Flynn's friends stop me.  To greet me, smile at me, encourage me.  It's unexpected.  He meets me for lunch and I'm welcomed on to his table, but I barely say anything.  I just listen, smile at the right times, nod.  The only class I enjoy is music, but even that's a struggle.  I've missed so much work.  I feel stupid, English feels like a foreign language and math is impossible to understand.

Dad rings me after school and I tell him I don't think I can catch up, that I'm too far behind, I'll never get the credits.  He says it's been one day.  He'll see if Raff can tutor me.  I tell him that I can't put Raff through that.  Raff has a busy enough schedule, he's applying to top universities, he doesn't need to be saddled with me.  He'll find someone else then.  It's important, Magdala, he emphasizes, you need your education. I ring Raff myself.  He says he'll pop around after dinner, just like that.  He says he isn't that busy.  He probably has all his credits and then some.  Raff brings over a bag of oranges, two cartons of juice, an assortment of vegetables and several packets of cookies.  I can imagine Aunt Kate clearing out her fridge and pantry and loading Raff up.

"This is ridiculous," I say, "we have so much food."  And it's true, we never have to go to the supermarket, maybe just for milk or bread.  "Thanks for coming," I say and we sit at the kitchen table, and I open my books. 

"How was school?" he asks.

"Not as bad as I thought it would be, but I still hate it," I reply.

"It'll get easier," he says.  Raff has always been the quiet one out of the four of us.  He and I are the same age, but sometimes he seems younger, less mature.  Maybe it's been hard for him, living in Jakey's shadow.  Jakey, who is all confidence, arrogance and sass, always dominating any conversation or situation if he can, while Raff is more sensitive, hangs back, invisible, listening, watching.  In fact, I think Raff gets on better with Cash than Jakey.  Cash is more empathetic, while Jakey is quick to bully and downgrade him, but I always figured that was just brotherly love for you. 

He goes through some math equations with me.  He's so patient, that I feel he must be bored to tears.  But he laughs at my mistakes and misunderstandings and my inability to even recite my nine times table.

"You must think I'm a loser," I say.  "Nine times nine is seventy nine? Pathetic."

"You're close," he smiles.  "Let's take a break."  We go to the sofa and I bring us a drink and cookies.  He picks up one of Cassidy's fleece blankets, a pink one, which I have folded on the armchair.  He holds it to his face and says, "I miss her."  It knocks me back.  "I miss the way her little hand would grasp my finger, and try to squeeze it." He holds the blanket out, adds, "This still smells like her."  I know it does, I've never washed it.  His eyes fill with moisture, but he doesn't seem embarrassed.  He looks at me and smiles.  Raff has never spoken to me like that. 

"I miss that too," I say, realizing it's something I'd practically forgotten.  "When I changed her diaper she'd always grip tight, like she wanted to strangle my finger."  I laugh at the memory.

"Can you remember that time when her diaper leaked all over the car seat?" He laughs hard, then continues, "And Jakey wouldn't get in the car."

"He was such a girl about it," I say, remembering how the offensive poo had stained the cover and Jakey sprayed body spray all through the car and wound down all the windows.  We had to wrap the cover in a plastic bag and put it in the trunk, though Jakey had said we should throw it away. 

"She really was a little beauty," he says, still fingering the blanket.  I hop up and go to the television cabinet, bring out the photo album I keep in there.  I sit next to him, and we look through the pictures, it's something Cash and I do from time to time.  And on every photo he gives me a different perspective, from his point of view, as her cousin.  And his visit has done more for me than I could have imagined, he's shown me to how to remember the good.

Chapter 11

FLYNN

In a way I felt envious of Magdala.  Crying for girls was acceptable, guys, not so much.  At the funeral sure, a few days later, fine, but months later, the looks were less kind.  Like I should be past that by now.  Should have sucked it up and moved on.  I tried.  God knows I tried.  I put on a brave face, a staunch face, made it look like I was ticking off all the stages of grief in a timely fashion, but what no one told you was that the grief came and went at will.  One day you could think your tears were all dried up, the next an image, a smell, a sound could set the flood gates open.  There was no predictability to it.

To see Magdala change in those two days I was away should have made me feel better, but of course it didn't.  It was admitting that I was no good for her, that I wasn't what she needed.  Maybe I'd never been what she needed.  Being thrown together because of an unplanned pregnancy, were the odds ever going to be in our favor?  Yet, while we had Cassidy, our lives had been great, fantastic, happy.  We'd never fought, we'd shared, we'd loved.  It didn't seem right that all of that could just change, become null and void, disappear.

I felt resentment to her brother Cassian, which was strange because I'd always quite liked him, and Mom had liked him too.  But when he came around, exerting his bullying tactics, making me feel like a fool, I knew I'd bear him an everlasting grudge, even if he was right.  And then it was like twisting the knife in my back when I found out he'd moved into the beach apartment with Magdala.  Taking my place, in our home, in Cassidy's home.  It was a crushing blow.

She told me she was starting back at school after the break, there was pressure from everyone to graduate.  I offered to support her in any way I could, and I meant it.  I'd not seen much of her since Cassian moved in, always finding an excuse to avoid him.  Maybe if we could connect at school, then things could change.  There was a spark of hope somewhere in the back of my mind that we would work it all out eventually, that we'd get through this hard part, reunite and have another baby someday.  That's where my head was at, that's where my heart was at.  No matter what, I still loved her.

She struggled through school, I could see that.  I would help her with science and math and she told me her cousin Raff was tutoring her, and I wouldn't have put it past Cassian to be doing her work for her too.  She'd started driving herself, and sometimes I'd notice her car gone after lunch.  She seemed to live by her own rules, and I admired her total non-conformity.  There were days I wished I could just hide away, lock myself in my room, but I was too conditioned to do the right thing.  Plus the pressure of college meant I couldn't fall off the pace, had to be on my game all the time.  I'd decided to do occupational therapy at college, keenly encouraged by my mother and father, but also because I'd had a lot of experience with it growing up, I knew it would be something I could relate to, and hopefully excel at.  With my own situation being what it is, it looked likely that I might qualify for some scholarships too.

It was a Wednesday, the four month anniversary of Cassidy's death.  I looked for Magdala at lunch, but she wasn't around.  Clare said she hadn't been in English class.  I went to the carpark and had a quick look around, then rang her.  Her phone went to voicemail, so I texted her: thinking of you, r u ok?

Her reply:  no

Me:  where r u?

Her:  nowhere

I panicked then, I didn't like the sound of it. 

Me:  I'm gonna ring, pick up

I rang, it rang, three, four, five rings.  I was stressing.  Like I knew she must be holding her phone, looking at my name on the screen.  Why wouldn't she pick up?  Six, seven.  My heart rate went soaring.  I felt sick, afraid for her, prayed silently in my head.  The lunch bell rang.  I had a chemistry class to get to, but my priority was Magdala.  Then I realized I didn't have my school bag with me anyway, my car keys were in my bag which was in my locker.  I ended the call and texted again:  please answer me

I jogged to my locker, passing James and Will.  They asked me what the hurry was, but I didn't reply, quickly opening my locker, grabbing my bag.

James caught me up, "What's up?"  He looked concerned.

"I'm gonna look for Magdala," I said, a ridiculous statement, considering she could be anywhere.

"Is she missing?"

I shrugged.  "I'm just worried about her," I said, taking off.  He was running behind me. 

"I'll come with you," he said.  I didn't have time to argue, and we ran and talked.  "We'll take my car," and he directed me towards his, "then if we find her you can go with her."  It made logical sense, and if he was driving I could be phoning.

"It's Cassidy's four month anniversary," I said as I buckled myself into the seat belt.

"I know," he said, and I raised my eyebrows in surprise.  "Clare and Aaron said she wasn't in class.  Could she be at the cemetery?"

I was thinking the exact same thing.  She went to the cemetery often, she'd just sit on the bit of grass between the rows of headstones, usually crying.  She always took flowers, or little toys.  Sometimes the toys would be gone the next time you visited, but Magdala never made a big deal about it.  Once I had taken a fairy doll which I thought had been cute, and when it was missing the next time, she said Cassidy would have been the sort of child who shared her toys, so as long as some other child was enjoying it, she wasn't worried.  I thought it was a good attitude to have. We got to the cemetery and you could tell she had been, there was a bunch of yellow flowers and a new little kitten toy.

Me:  am at cemetery now, love the kitten, she would have loved it.

I felt bad that I didn't have anything, so I looked in my school bag and found I had a Mars bar. It would have to do.  I placed it next to the kitten.  James laughed.

Me:  I've given her a Mars bar, think she'd like?

Her:  lol.

Then my phone rang.  The relief was immense.

"Really?" she asked, "A Mars bar?"

"You think she'd prefer a granola bar?"  There was one of those in my bag too.

She laughed.  "Where are you Magdala?  Please meet me."

"Have you cut school?" she asked.

"Yeah.  James too, we're worried.  Tell us where to meet you.  We're going to be in trouble so we may as well make it worthwhile."

She was at the beach, which wasn't unexpected.  We drove there and James left me to walk with her.  I realized that I hadn't touched her, hadn't kissed her for months.  Our relationship had naturally morphed into friendship since she'd come back to school.  I think I had hugged her at Christmas and that was all.  But seeing her walking along the beach, looking sad and vulnerable, I spontaneously reached for her hand, and then my arm went around her waist.

"Do you know what a ten month old baby can do?" she suddenly said, and without waiting for my answer said, "Some of them can walk, or they can stand up around furniture.  And they have teeth and can eat some normal foods, like bananas and bread.

"A banana sandwich?" I said, trying to sound funny.

Her tears fell as if I'd just flicked a switch.  Her head leaned into me and I held her closer, her emotion raw, undisguised, unimaginable.  I felt it was my job to remain strong, that I couldn't let her down by joining in.  But the thought of Cassidy taking her first steps, her first tooth appearing, her first taste of solid food, all milestones we'd never know, reduced me to tears too.  Slow trickling down my cheeks, but then streaming.  I tried to shut my eyes tight, hoping that would stop the flow, but it doesn't work that way.  I directed Magdala further from the water's edge, towards the dunes, away from other people.  And then she just collapsed, kneeling into the sand and I went down with her, each sob making her body quiver.  I felt powerless, useless, and could only hold my arm around her shoulder.  She never indicated any gratitude of my presence, and when at last her cries subsided, she said, "When will it fucking stop hurting?"  And only then did she acknowledge me.

"I don't know babe," I said, my own voice trembling, "I don't know."  And she looked at my own tear stained eyes, a mirror of hers.

"I just want it to stop," she said again, her eyes begging.

"I know, I know," I soothed, my hand touching the top of her head, my lips brushing her hair.  More than anything I wanted to help her, wished I could help her.  Hell, though, I couldn't even help myself.  She straightened up and I removed my arm, and she changed to a sitting position, hugging her knees, her eyes looking far out to the horizon, frequently wiping at her eyes, though the crying had stopped.  I sat like she did, though not touching her now.  I checked my phone.  James had texted several times, also Will, Clare and Aaron.  She glanced over at me as I replied to the texts.

"Thanks," she said, "for being here."  She stood up before I could answer and started back down the beach.

MAGDALA

Would it be like this on every anniversary, a maddening loss of control, a sinking back into the depths of grief that I thought I'd just emerged from?  The insane emotional roller coaster from confidence to abjection in literally moments, leaving me ragged.  One second I was coping, the next I wasn't.I had intended to go to school on Cassidy's four month anniversary, and suggest that Flynn join me at the cemetery later.  We had done that on her second month anniversary, shared a picnic even.  But as I drove to school I detoured, my car acting on automatic, and I was at the mall, buying flowers, choosing a soft toy and then at the cemetery, kneeling, crying, crying more.  Then at the beach, walking, crying, sitting, crying.  And then when Flynn caught me up, walking, crying again.  I was glad he came looking for me, glad for his arm around me, glad his tears were flowing as readily as mine.

I invited him back to the apartment, not sure what for, I just didn't want to lose the connection right away.  I took him to pick up his car and he followed me home.  He seemed worried about Cassian being there, but I told him it wouldn't matter if he was.  I made us sandwiches and we sat on the sofa watching a movie. We didn't talk much, we didn't kiss, but our bodies touched as we sat side by side and it was like the look in our eyes was enough for one other, knowing that we were going through the same experience.  Like it was only the two of us who could share this, could really know and understand what each was going through.  Others could say they knew, but they couldn't.  Only Flynn and I had lived it.

Cassian came home and Flynn immediately sat up straighter.   Cash came to me and hugged me, nodded at Flynn.

"You two okay?" he asked gently.  We both just nodded.  He came and sat next to me, so there were three of us on the sofa, me squeezed in the middle.  He put his arm around the back of me.  I leaned my head onto his shoulder.  "I just stopped by the cemetery," he said.  "Who left the melted Mars bar?"  Flynn and I looked at each other and laughed, giggled really. 

"You didn't eat it did you?" I asked.

"I was tempted," he said, "because I'm starving."  I laughed and punched his chest.  "You guys eaten?" he asked.

I shook my head.  "Not yet."

"You want to go out then?  I'll see if Assisi has a table?"

I perked up a bit.  That was the restaurant where Cassian had been a waiter, and I'd only eaten there once.  Cash had stopped working when he started college, he didn't really have time anymore, he said.

"That would be neat.  Your treat?"  I asked hopefully.

He stood up and took out his phone.  "Yes," he smiled.  "I'll see if I can get a table."

Flynn looked at me as Cash made the phone call.  "You go," he said.  "I'll take off."

"No," I said with urgency, "I want you to come."  I squeezed his arm.  "We need this."

Flynn drove himself home to shower, and we did the same and then picked him up.  I told Cassian about our day, and he said he figured as much.  Surprisingly the restaurant was quite busy for a Wednesday, and we were shown to our table and a waitress came over, introduced herself and gave us menus.

"Do you know her?" I whispered to Cash.

"No, looks like there's a few new staff," he said, glancing around.  "I haven't been here for awhile."  Then I noticed his gaze stop, and his face hardened.  I turned to see what or who he was looking at.  I recognized his old boss, standing in a corner.  I couldn't remember her name, but she was a stunning brunette with her hair pulled back in a glamorous bun.

"That's your old boss," I commented, but when I turned back to him, his eyes were already looking down, scanning the menu.

"What?  Yeah.  What do you feel like?" he gabbled, and proceeded to give Flynn a run down on some of the dishes.  I thought he seemed nervous all of a sudden, which was uncharacteristic of him.  Flynn decided on the shrimp tagliatelle, I got the mushroom and asparagus risotto, and Cash spaghetti bolognese.

"All these fancy dishes," I teased, "and you order spag bolognese?  I could have made you that at home.”  He looked at me scornfully as if he didn't appreciate my humor.  He changed the subject to us. 

"Did you tell Dad you skipped school?" he asked.

"Only after I skipped school," I admitted, but still didn't get a laugh from him.  He checked a text on his phone, then looked around the room. 

"What about you Flynn?" he asked, but he still seemed distracted.