Reece's Haven

23

"Linda, we talked about this. You wouldn't have had Reece if it were not for your decisions. So please don't regret anything."

"Yes... That's the only one good outcome from the mess I created in my life."

"Linda, it will get better. Trust me. It will get better. It's just the question of when it will get better."

I pull myself away from the door when Linda bursts out crying and go upstairs to my bedroom with a heavy heart. I flop on to my bed with millions of questions running through my mind.

What is happening?

I feel like I'm missing something here. Both mother and Linda had expected Reece and I to be together.

Like friends?

Why does it feel that it is important to them that we become friends again?

What's Linda's backstory?

Ugh this is frustrating!! I don't have a single clue. Why does everything feel complicated: Monica and the consequences of her actions, Luna with her betrayal, Damien with his ardent feelings for me, Reece with his guilt, Linda and mother with their expectations.

I pick up a pillow and scream into it.

***

"Reece is coming back in a few weeks' time," mother informs me, cutting out a slice of lasagne for herself.

She and I are sitting in the dining room, having home-made lasagne for dinner. Linda left about an hour ago.

"Linda needs a little help with cleaning his room," she continues, carefully placing her slice on her plate before she sits back down on her seat. "I was hoping you would like to help her."

"Sure, I'll help," I say.

"That's nice of you."

There is a moment of silence during which we chew on the delicious, fresh lasagne.

"What is Reece actually like?" I finally break the silence.

Mother smiles warmly. It's like mentioning his name makes her happy or something.

"Well... Where can I begin? I guess... He looks after his mum very well. He doesn't like to worry others. He is troubled, yes, but he's trying hard to overcome that. I can't really explain it. It's like, every time I meet him... I can't describe it. He... The poor boy had to grow up too fast for his age."

"He drinks. He sleeps around a lot. He is stubborn. Explain that," I say, expecting a reaction from her.

Instead of looking shocked or disgusted, she simply loses her smile.

"I didn't say he was perfect," she says with a sombre tone. "Yes, he has flaws. He has troubles. He is troubled. But his goodness is so much greater."

"Why do I get the feeling that you want me to give him another chance?" I say, straightforward.

"Because you will be amazed by how beautiful this boy really is."

"Then enlighten me right now. Convince me."

I leave my fork and knife on my plate and lean back against my chair with my arms crossed. Mother shakes her head.

"I can't do that. You will have to see for yourself. Besides, everyone has their own opinion of someone. Don't let mine affect yours."

I take a deep breath in, completely unenlightened, much to my dismay.

"Did he... Did he ever ask about me?" I ask.

"Oh, very much! The last time he asked me about you was... I think about a week before I brought you back? ...Yes, that's right."