The Wrong Choices

27. I'm hooked.

I snort. "Dad, I barely leave the house. I hardly need a driver's licence."

"That's one of the reasons you should get one. So you can start leaving the house, live a little."

I quickly change the subject, not wanting to breach the subject of how plaintive my little life is. "How long are you staying?" I ask.

"I'll go to the conference on Monday, then I'm flying back on Tuesday morning," he sighs. The long flight has obviously taken its toll on him, he's been yawning the whole time and he looks as if he's struggling to keep his eyes open. There's so many things I want to ask him about Australia but he really doesn't look like he's up for much talking so I put the questions aside for tomorrow.

"You should get some rest," Mum says, covering his newly tanned hand with her own pale one, creating a sharp juxtaposition between the two. Something seems different between them, maybe it's because they've been apart for almost a month, maybe they have realised that it is hard living apart from each other. The air around our family seems thinner, there's less tension weighing down on all of us.

It's still not right, though. It still doesn't feel right making casual conversation with Mum. We need to talk it through because the conversation we had in the hospital canteen was short and both of us had a lot on our minds. Although we can talk freely, it's only to a point. We're careful not to say the wrong thing, we tread lightly so as not to set the other off, like we're both standing on a ledge, trying not to push the other off.

Just then, I hear the door opening and Sandra comes. She's baby-less and a smile fills her face. "Ray! It's great to see you," she says. I still haven't got used to Sandra without a bump, I forgot what her figure looked like, small and dainty. Her waist is small, like her hips and her shoulders.

"Where's the new arrival?" Dad asks, looking a little disappointed.

"Mum has him today, I had a lot to do," Sandra says, frowning absentmindedly.

"Oh, will tomorrow be okay?" Mum asks Sandra.

"Yeah, tomorrow's perfect."

"What's tomorrow?" I inquire. I feel as if I'm missing something that everyone else knows. I wonder if I've already been told and already forgotten.

"Sandra's moving in," Mum answers nonchalantly, as if it's the most obvious thing ever.

"Oh, are you moving into a new house? That's great!"

"No, honey," Sandra chuckles, "I'm moving in here- with you."

I laugh, then I realise that nobody else is and my smile drops. "Wait, you're serious? You're moving out of your house? Why? What about Al? Where will you sleep?"

"Yes, Lilli," Sandra smiles. "It's just until I get myself back on my feet, get some money. I'm taking Theo's room and Al will be here too."

"Oh, cool," I remark confusedly.

"Anyway, that's not why I'm here. It's your birthday, kid. Happy birthday!" Sandra enthuses. "And I brought cake," she shows me the paper bag that she left on the floor, "but I can't show you until I light the candles."

I roll my eyes and smile as she makes me promise not to look behind me as she lights the candles on the cake. Everyone sings for the second time today as she carries the cake over and as soon as I see it, I gasp. It's shaped like a guitar and all the details are iced onto it carefully, right down to the strings and even the frets on it. I blow out the candles that are placed on the body carefully.

"Sandra, it's amazing. This must have taken hours to make," I exclaim in awe.

She rolls her eyes. "Oh, please. It didn't take that long." I can't tell if she's lying to me or not but I can imagine that she took a long time making the cake.