Page 87 of The Best Book Boyfriend
One morning she arrived in a bad mood. I helped her set out the blanket but when I sat down she leaned against the tree and pouted with her arms crossed.
“What’s wrong?” I’d asked.
“Are youevergoing to kiss me?” she’d huffed.
I stood to face her. I put my hands on her hips. She did the same to me and we bent at the waist and changed our lives. I immediately regretted that I hadn’t kissed her on day one of the summer holidays. How much time had we wasted being shy when we could have been snogging each other all day every day. It turned out snogging was everything.
In my head I see that day as a time-lapse movie. The tree in the centre of the frame, the sun climbing from through the morning haze to its apex, then lowering to the other side. And there, underneath it, we are a tangle of limbs that don’t separate until sunset.
We did the same the next day, and the day after that, and only in the morning the day after that because her Mum took her to buy new shoes. I remember they were shiny black and chunky and looked a bit daft at the end of her long skinny legs, but what did I know about shoes and fashion?
We turned up for the first day of Year 10, our wrists adorned with all the friendship bracelets we’d promised we’d never take off. By lunchtime we’d both been written up and told to leave them at home the next day. We acted like it was the biggest injustice in the world. It’s funny now but back then we felt like Romeo and Juliet being torn apart. Young rebels in love, we wore one on our ankles, hidden under long socks and trousers. Our little secret. I still have them all in a box.
Sometimes I wish we’d buried her here, so I could lie on the ground and feel close to all of her. Instead we scattered her ashes. She’s in the soil and the branches and in the breeze all around, always just out of my grasp. I stroke my fingers through the grass anyway.
“So I’ve met someone.” My heart hurts so much when I say it out loud. In any other context this would be awful news to share with your wife. “I slept with her, Heather.”
I slump over and start sobbing into my knees. “I’m so sorry.” I need this cry so much The kind of cry that feels horrible but necessary. I’ve got to get this off my chest.
“Her name is Kara,” I keep going. “I met her in the cafe and I think you’d really like her.”
I pick at the stitching on my shoe and the tears keep coming, tumbling out along with the feelings I’ve been keeping to myself for far too long. “I feel awful telling you though, Sunshine. I know I promised I’d move on, but it feels like such a betrayal. She’s getting over a long relationship, and she’s shit scared too. I think she’s afraid she’ll get hurt again, and to be honest I’m terrified I’ll hurt her. And I’m scared because—”
I can’t believe I’m saying this. I can’t believe I’ve not realised until now what a horrible secret I’m keeping. “I’m scared she’ll die too.”
Tears come harder, I don’t bother trying to stop. Deep, heaving sobs that pour out of my face and my chest leaving me breathless and snotty. I fish a tissue from my pocket, and the strangest thing happens. It starts to rain. All around me is transformed by the downpour, but here I stay dry under the canopy of the tree.
Probably it’s not that strange at all. Probably I just didn’t check the weather app and sudden showers were predicted. Probably I am in such a state of grief that I look for signs wherever I go. And this feels like one of those signs.
Since Heather died I’ve often felt strange things happen here. A leaf falling to the ground in the height of summer. A new flower that’s never grown here before. A rustle of the branches on a still day. The things we might overlook if not desperate for proof that those we’ve lost are still with us, that we are seen and loved.
I choose to take it as a sign though. When Heather and I got into movies we always loved a rainy scene.The Notebookwhen Noah and Allie get caught in the rain on the rowboat and she finds out about his letters. OrGarden Statewhen they climb on top of the old trucks and start screaming then kissing.
Every feeling intensifies in the rain. Anger comes out, fears are unleashed, sadness is washed away. Sitting here in this downpour I can’t help but laugh as I am, what, cleansed? Reborn?
“I think you’d really like her, Sunshine,” I sniff. “She’s an interior designer and she’s obsessed with these romance novels that she’s had me reading. Well not that she’s forced me, I asked her for recommendations. I thought maybe she’d be someone to have a couple of dates with, get back in the water so to speak, but we’ve become friends. It’s more than that for me though. I like having her in my life. I feel happy around her. She’s kind of shown me that there are lots of different paths to love and I think it might be time for me to take this one a bit further. But I still miss you so, so much. It’s bloody awful living without you, but I really hope you can hear me wherever you are, and that you’re proud of me.”
I sit for ages, back against the bark. Our tree was here long before me. Long before Heather, before Heather and I were anus. And it will be here long after we’ve all gone. It’s seen me at my happiest and it’s seen me on days I didn’t want to exist any more. And in the whole time it lives on this planet, I have to believe that it will see more happy days than sad ones.
When I open the back door I hear chatter in the kitchen, and I’d burst into tears if I hadn’t cried them all out down in the meadow. I walk through and see Rob sitting at the dinner table, my wee Granny listening to his news, one eyebrow permanently raised. He gets up and scoots around his chair to wrap me in a big hug. Granny must have called him when I went outside and given him orders to get over right away.
“Come and have some mince and tatties, boys.” I don’t know where she’s whipped this up from since I don’t remember smelling cooking when I arrived, but she’s always got food ready for us in a heartbeat. We take our seats and dig in as soon as she sets our bowls in front of us. She’s always happiest feeding people, and when I was a boy this table was always bustling with extra people, whether it was Rob, Heather and her sister, or some medical students my mum would send over for a good feed. It’s been years since my Grandad passed, but it makes me sad to think how many nights she must just be sitting here by herself now. I must come and see her more often. Even though I’ve sometimes avoided it, trying to outrun painful memories of being here with Heather, I know in my heart this has always been a house full of love.
The food is hot and restorative, and I can feel the tension in my chest easing off a little. This is the taste of my childhood, my teenage years, late nights sitting by the bed watching Heather sleep. We eat in comfy silence, and I’m grateful they wait until the food is done before speaking again.
“So how are things?” Rob asks, caution in his voice.
“They’re good man.” It’s a lie, and they all know it. “Sunshine is doing really well. House is fine. Can’t complain.”
“And what about with Kara?” I didn’t tell him how bad things were this week, when she had to look after me, but Granny knows. I told her I had to skip our Friday call and she was livid I hadn’t come home like last time. I hadn’t known how bad things were until I was too far under.
I let out a long, slow sigh that tells him all he needs to know. Granny clears our bowls away to the countertop and takes the seat next to mine while Rob gets up and runs a sink full of water for the dishes. I’m sitting with my head in my hands and she rubs my back slowly up and down, just like when I was a boy. “What is it that you want, darling?”
“I just want her.” My words catch in my throat. “She’s brilliant. I feel so happy when I’m with her, but...”
“But what?”
It sounds ridiculous to say it. “I can’t get past this feeling that I’m cheating. Betraying Heather somehow.” The words are heavy in my throat.
