CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
WREN
“Aunty Wren! Aunty Wren!” come the cries as soon as the door opens, two little people swirling around my legs like some kind of toddler tornado. I bend down and pull the twins in, trying not to turn into a human puddle in front of them.
I stand, June smiling looking equally teary-eyed. “Come here, kid,” she says.
We hug, and it’s nice to be back in New York, with friends, family.
June’s husband is nowhere to be seen. I look around. “Where’s Tim?”
“Oh,” she says, hands in her back pockets. “He went out to get some supplies. I swear to god the twins are eating us out of house and home at the moment”.
I rub Elijah’s head. “You’re growing boys. Isn’t that right?”
“Yes,” they chime.
“Aunty Wren,” says Eric. “Have you been crying?” His pudgy face scrunches up as he says it, like he’s examining me for a rare disease.
I kneel down to his level. “You’re right. Aunty Wren was a little sad.” He sits on my knee. “But now I’m here with you guys, I’m happy again.”
He smiles, satisfied with this simple answer. He takes my hand. “Want to see our dinosaur collection?”
“Dinosaurs! Dinosaurs!” calls Elijah, bouncing up and down.
“As long as there’s not a really scary T-rex there.”
And with that, they’re sold, tugging me upstairs towards their room.
“Welcome to Jurassic Park,” laughs June. “Don’t expect to come out alive.”
*
Twins finally in bed, June and I sit down in the kitchen. She hands me a steaming mug.
“What is it?” I ask.
“Chamomile.”
“No, the mug.” I hold it up, turning it this way and that. “Is it a rocket?”
She shrugs. “One of the twins made it in preschool. Looks like a dildo, I know.”
We both laugh. I take a sip from the dildo mug. It’s good.
Tim talked to me a little earlier, but he’s since retreated to his man cave down the back of the apartment. He’s never been one for in-depth conversation, no doubt sensing I’m not here for a simple visit. “Does he know?” I ask.
“Tim?” replies June, the telepathy between us in tune. “Hate to tell you, hon, but everyone knows. This is New York. You were right up there on the social ladder, and you know what people love seeing more than someone climb it…”
I don’t need to fill in the rest. “How did this go so wrong so fast?”
“You just answered your own question. It moved too quickly. You never gave it time to bloom.”
“He’s a man, not a garden.”
“But you bloomed, did you not? I can see it written all over your face.”
“Anxiety, apprehension?”
“The big O.”
“Os,” I correct. “Plural. Sometimes he tended to my garden multiple times a day.”
“Did he?” June smiles. “A godly gardener with a shovel to match and yet you’re here, in the house of horrors.”
I hold the mug with two hands. “Like I said, I don’t know what happened. One moment we were so happy, I was so happy, and then it all went pear-shaped.”
“Because of the whole knew-about-David-cheating thing?”
“How can I forgive him for that? I thought we were friends, even then.”
“But you showed your loyalty to David.”
“By marrying him?”
June rolls her eyes. “Um, yes by marrying him. Can’t you see that from Carter’s perspective?”
“It still doesn’t give him any right. Besides, what happened to siding with your BFF?”
“I just want what’s best for you.”
“And you think it’s Carter? Let’s be honest, June. He’s an ex-criminal, with a record, no money, a tiny cabin…”
“You’re sounding like your father, like their father.”
I do, and suddenly I’m terrified.
“Do you love him?”
I’m completely still, watching the tea leaves float around and rearrange on the surface of the water. “Yes. I think I always have.”
June throws her hands up. “So what’s the god damn problem? Here is your chance at happiness, at hitting the restart button. Screw what anyone else says. Screw the media and the papers and your playboy father. This is your life. You get to decide how you live it.”
Damn her for speaking so much sense.
“And he’s got a giant cock, right?” She smiles, standing and walking over to the pantry. She withdraws a lengthy cucumber. “Am I right?”
I spread my hands apart, trying not to smile myself.
“Jesus,” June exclaims. “Is that supposed to be a penis or a python?”
“It’s not all about the sex, you know.”
“But it sure as hell doesn’t hurt, and yes, he didn’t tell you about the cheating, but have you considered he was trying to protect David too, out of some misguided brotherly loyalty? Maybe he thought you were better off not knowing?”
“Now you’re grasping at straws.”
“Because I know you guys are meant to be together, that your wedding—probably more vintage store than Vera Wang now—is going to be kick-ass, that you could make the world’s cutest kids, but none of that’s going to happen until you cut him, and yourself, a bit of slack here. Why are you dwelling in the past?”
“I don’t know, June. Maybe I just need some time.”
“Well, like I said, you can stay here as long as you want. Just don’t expect room service… unless by room service you mean being cunt-punched by my offspring at 5am when they inevitably decide to break into your room.”
“They’re adorable, you know. You’re very lucky.”
“I am.” She smiles. “And if my husband can ever find my g-spot, I’ll have everything I ever need, but until then, I’m living vicariously through you. Don’t. Let. Me. Down.”
I go to bed thinking hard, running over June’s thoughts and my own. Outside, the city bustles, even double glazing unable to keep away the endless string of sirens. I can’t believe it, but I’m actually missing the cabin, missing…
Him.
It’s too much to take in right now. I’ll sleep on it and regroup in the morning.
*
The aforementioned invasion takes place at 4:30am, the twins too excited to allow me sweet, blissful solace—not that I mind. By sun up we’ve been through every damn dinosaur species in existence.
I’m saved by Tim, who sweeps the boys away to get ready for school.
I head downstairs yawning and take a seat at the breakfast table.
June slides a tray across the table.
I breathe in. “My god. Are these from…?”
“Fresh, hot jelly donuts from Orwashers.”
I take one, savoring the airy parcels of perfection dusted with sugar and filled with the finest fruit preserves NYC has to offer. “Boy, have I missed the food here.”
“Stay too long and, like me, you’ll wind up twenty pounds worse for it.”
“You’re far from fat.”
She reaches into her pocket and slides a piece of paper across the table. “And you’re far from stupid.”
I take the paper, unfolding it. “What’s this?”
“An airplane ticket, back to Vancouver.”
“Why?”
“Isn’t it obvious?”
“But, I can’t.”
June’s steely eyes give me no option. “Yes, you can, and yes, you will, so jam down as many donuts as you can. Your flight leaves in three hours.”