Page 14 of Tough Love

Briar scoots down the hall to the bathroom, and I step out to check on him, somewhat relieved when I see him standing atop his step stool, diligently washing his hands.

“You okay?” Evan rests his hand on the back of my shoulder, the contact setting my flesh on fire as I read the concern in his eyes.

“I will be.” I always am. I break, I mend, and then I ride out the storm until I break all over again.

The circle of life.

“Seeing him so upset … I feel useless.”

“I’m sure he doesn’t see it that way.”

We both watch in silence as Briar dries his hands off and returns to where we’re congregated at the top of the stairs.

“Ready to eat, champ?” Evan sticks his arm out toward him.

Briar nods, and takes the offered hand. The two of them start toward the stairs, and I lag behind, using the moment to steel myself. I’ve already snapped, and I haven’t even reached the hardest part yet: when Mum and Dad arrive.

Eyes glazed, hand to my throat, it takes me a moment to realise that the other two have stopped in their descent. I bring my focus back to the house and look down to find a small smile on Evan’s lips as Briar, twisted back to face me with his hand still in Evan’s, reaches out with his other for me.

“Are you coming, Aunty?”

“Of course.”

I may have lost the family I wanted, but in this time of crisis, I might have found a connection to the one I need.

FIVE

The unhindered sound of a child’s laugh can be both sweet and heartbreaking. I wake, feeling one, knowing the other.

“Aunty Mimi!” Briar leaps onto my legs where I lie on the sofa.

“Morning.” Coffee. I need caffeine to get this motor running. “Where’s Evan?”

Bedtime with Briar turned out to be a smooth, effortless transition, but after voicing my concerns at screwing it up over the dinner dishes, Evan had offered to stick around and help. He tidied while I supervised Briar’s bath, put everything away, and he even made sure we had enough food for today while I readPeter Rabbit. The last thing I remember is him making us both a coffee.

Apparently, I fell asleep. I seem to be good at that.

“He’s not here. Did he go home?” Briar settles himself in the crook of my legs, pulling the blanket that’s been thrown over me over himself also.

“I guess he did.” My head pounds, and my back kills. “Should we get some breakfast then, huh?”

“Yeah.” In a flurry of blue and green pyjamas, Briar tears off the sofa and his footsteps pound the wooden floor through to the kitchen.

I stumble in behind him, ambling over to the coffee pot only to find it’s cold.Not automatic, then.Rectifying the issue, I set it brewing and put two slices of bread into the toaster for Briar. He pulls out a jar of Nutella, and wrenches the door of the fridge open to get the juice.

“Don’t pull the toast out on your own, okay?” I warn as I head for the bathroom. “Wait until I get back.” Last thing I need is a burn to contend with also.

He nods, using the edge of the island as some sort of gymnasium equipment, jumping and doing his best to scale it in bare feet.

I whip upstairs to the bathroom, and then collect my phone from my things in the living room. There’s a voicemail from Mum and a missed message from my bestie as well as one from a number I don’t know. With my thumb poised to open the message, my heart lodges in my throat as a wail erupts from Briar in the next room.

I careen to the door to find him folded on the floor in tears and juice absolutely everywhere.He’s okay. You’re okay. You’ve got this.Still doesn’t calm my erratic heart.

“Hey,” I soothe, futilely throwing a dishcloth over the mess. “It’s okay. It was just an accident.”

“I wanted to help,” he sobs. “But it was too full.”

“I know.” I’m pretty sure the kitchen counter and floor realise that now too. I swipe the cloth sideways, cutting off a stream that’s making steady progress towards the space under the refrigerator. “Do you know where your mum keeps the towels?”

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