JEN
I commend whoever created the onesie. Also, if you are the creator of Ben and Jerrys and wine, your names should be put on a fucking plaque on the street of every capital city in the world.
I might also be singing the praises of salt and vinegar crunchy sticks right now, too.
What’s a girl to do?
A small knock on my front door is followed by it opening quietly.
“I don’t care who you are, you should go away,” I mumble.
“One, it’s a good job I’m not a serial killer, and two, you should learn to lock your front door if you don’t want visitors,” Lexy calls. The door swings shut.
“Oh. I suppose you can stay.” I watch as whoever it is leaves whatever show it is on my television. I don’t care. I don’t even know what I’m watching.
“I have wine and chocolate?” she offers, waving two bags in the air. I smile weakly, letting my head rest against the back of the sofa.
She puts the bags down, disappears into my kitchen for a glass, and pours herself a wine. She tops my glass up and sits next to me, tucking her legs under the quilt.
“You look like shit.”
“Gee, thanks. You really know how to make me feel good. Did you skip the ‘What Not to Say In Case Of a Broken Heart’ section in the best friend manual?” I ask dryly.
“I skimmed it.” She grins. “And I have been ordered to be here, so you know, I figure that part doesn’t count.”
“Ordered to be here?”
“Yep.” She settles back. “What’s this crap you’re watching?”
“Bimbos and Abs, it looks like,” I quip. “Who ordered you to be here?”
“Samuel.”
“Samuel.”
“Yes. Samuel.”
“Huh.”
“What?”
“He really has dropped his name.”
“Yep. He got annoyed when I called him Bing, and I only wanted to know why he was smashing the shit out of the punching bag. I think he broke some of the stitching.”
I swallow, looking into my glass. My chest tightens a little, and I have to take a deep breath. “Yeah. He was kinda pissed when he left here,” I say quietly.
“Well, hell,” she cries. “I’m kinda pissed, Jen. My big brother is through the roof, steam-coming-from-his-ears pissed.”
My lips quirk at that visual. “Yeah. I can imagine.” My face drops again, and I spin my glass slowly between my fingers. “I think I’d probably feel that way if I didn’t feel like I’d just been kicked in the gut by a horse.”
“I think he feels a little of that too. He just feels his anger first. He always has.” Lexy smirks. “He stubbed his toe on the kitchen table when he was about eight, and instead of registering the pain, he got angry and kicked the table with his other foot. He had two stubbed toes, and he was still angrier than he was in pain. It took him a few minutes to calm down and realise he’d just bashed the hell out of both of his feet.”
I give a sad smile. “Why am I not surprised?”
“It gets better. He had a football match straight after. He hobbled for about ten minutes into it.”
“Yep. That sounds like my Samuel,” I whisper.
“Your Samuel, huh?”
I nod. “Well he is, isn’t he? Bloody great buffoon that he is, he’s mine.” I sniff a little, fighting back some tears. “But I can’t be his, because I can’t deal with her.”
“He’s not gonna let it go, Jen. Your best bet is just giving in to him and giving him what he wants, ‘cause he ain’t gonna stop till he’s got you back. In his mind, he still has you.”
“Don’t, Lexy.”
“It’s true. You have to accept that because he won’t give up on you.”
I lift my eyes to hers, and they’re soft just like her voice. “Because he always gets what he wants, right?”
“Because he doesn’t give up on something he believes in, and he believes in you.”
~
I wrap my arms around the two foot tall toddler as she falls into me and bury my face in her blonde curls.
“An Jen!” Daisy yells, squeezing me.
“Hey, Daisy duck!” I kiss the side of her head, putting a smile on for her sake. I pull back from her and look into her big blue eyes. “Were you good for mummy in the car?”
She nods, her face innocent, and sucks on the corner of her blanket.
“Are we gonna cause some mischief this weekend?” I glance over the top of her head at my sister and wink. She rolls her eyes, and Daisy nods again.
“Bisc? Bisc?” she asks, looking at the kitchen.
“You want a biscuit?” I stand, and she nods. I look at Hannah. “Can she say “yeah” yet?”
“Nope.” She smacks her lips together. “You have to watch her nods or head shakes.”
“Great.” I mutter. “There’s a two foot child running around my absolutely not child proofed flat that can’t talk besides basic words.”
“Oh, shut up.” Hannah laughs, taking Daisy’s coat off. I grab a biscuit from the cupboard and hand it to Daisy, grinning as she snatches it and bounces into my front room.
“How was the car ride?” I flick the kettle on and hear a rattling noise as Daisy’s bag is emptied.
“It was hell. Babies are not made for long car journeys, and then Lloyd called me six times because he’s misplaced his work socks, his work badge, his wallet, his keys, one of his shoes-”
“And his phone?” I snicker.
“How did you know?” my sister asks wryly. “I swear, he’d lose his head if it wasn’t screwed on and locked with a deadbolt.”
“Tea?”
“Please.”
“Well,” I say as I drop two teabags into mugs. “I think that’s a male thing in general.”
“Talking of males…” Hannah trails off. I can feel her eyes hot on my back, and I know she’s taking in the oversized male jumper I’m wearing.
Yes, I was the one that walked away. But that doesn’t mean it hasn’t ripped me apart. That doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt. It doesn’t mean I don’t already miss him.
“Do we have to?” I pass her a mug without looking at her. “How about a nice girl’s weekend? You know, shopping, sleepover with chick flicks, junk food, and painted nails…”
“From what I’ve heard on the grapevine-”
“You mean the Lexy-vine.”
“You two are inseparable. Or, you were… So if I hadn’t already had a call from her this morning telling me what happened yesterday, I’d be surprised he’s not here and that you’re wrapped up in his jumper, holding it against you like it’ll disappear if you don’t.” She raises her perfectly arched eyebrows, settling in a chair at the table.
I glance over at Daisy, sitting on my rug playing with her toys and spraying crumbs everywhere. “I don’t want to talk about it. Not around Daisy. I don’t want her to see me sad.”
“I don’t wanna see you sad either, Jen,” Hannah says softly. “But I’m your big sister. We gotta talk about this tonight, okay?”
“Pretty sure we never talked about anything.”
“That’s because we were both petty teens arguing over who used the last of the hairspray.” She smirks. “We’ve grown up now. I know what it feels like to lose the person you love, for however short a time. Remember when me and Lloyd broke up three years ago? I didn’t leave my bedroom for-”
“Six days, except to pee.” I nod. “I know. I had to bring you food and drinks while you curled up in bed, listening to sappy songs, exhausting the stock of tissues in the village.”
She waves a hand, smiling slightly. “Exaggeration!” I raise an eyebrow, and she looks down. “Okay,” she mumbles. “Maybe only a slight exaggeration. So tonight, we’ll get Daisy bathed and in bed. Then we’ll order a takeaway, I’ll buy copious amounts of wine and junk food at Tesco, and then we’ll sit and sob. Okay?”
My face breaks into a genuine, yet small, smile. “Okay.”
~