One Simple Day
-•-•-
The air is clear today
She takes in a deep breath
The charm of a 5 AM breeze
The charm of the silence
the peace
She inhales and exhales
till the sun rises
Her eyes on the leaves
the winds are dancing with
She sighs
Why can't the morning breeze
blow her pain away?
"When's the marriage?"
I want to slap myself for asking this question but instead, I straighten myself and try to look as unaffected as I can.
I'm not unaffected. The throbbing ache between my eyes suddenly spreads to my temples and I cringe with the knowledge of an impending headache. I'm totally going to get a killer one soon.
For a second I almost see hesitance on William's face, a small brush of emotions in his eyes. But then they are gone, and instead, I am left to stare at the same blank-faced man I was slowly getting accustomed to seeing.
"If I agree, then by the end of the year,"
"So... what do I say now? Didn't he tell me he thinks of her as his sister? Do brothers get married to their sisters?" I think to myself as I stare at the man before me.
"Congratulations?" I try to smile at him but I know it probably looks like a grimace instead. For a moment I wonder why, why am I even grimacing? Why am I even upset? This was not supposed to have any strings attached.
I watch as William's blank expressions suddenly hardens, and he stares at me with hard orbs that remind me of thick, sweet molasses. Is this not the response he wanted?
"I do not want to marry Cecilia,"
Oh...
The words echo around the walls of the bedroom, and I drop my gaze to the first button on his shirt. It's safer looking there than looking into his eyes. Unlike him, I am aware that my face is a traitor. It is expressive. I try to hide the strange swirl of happiness I feel in my chest at his words.
It takes me a while to realise that the silence between us is spreading. William is still silent, waiting for my response, but I am too busy silently feeling relief.
"Oh," I mumble finally, not knowing what else to say suddenly. Sometimes it is really irritating not being a skilled vocalised. During times like these I wish I had Saara's skill at expressing herself verbally.
"Oh?... That's it?" William's question makes my eyes suddenly dart up to his. A shiver runs through my chest as soon as my eyes lands on him. The way he is looking at me, his eyes — then the vulnerability disappears and he is once again looking at me with the blank mask his face usually is set up as.
But I can't forget it. The way his eyes looked at me a moment ago — with disappointment and disbelief, the clenching of his jaws, and this other emotion... something I had never seen before. Has anyone ever looked at me the way he just did? I can not tell.
"Should I marry Cecelia, Gemma?" Again my eyes snap up to his and this time I am the one who lets her emotions slip. I stare at him with fear and disbelief.
"Don't you not want to marry her?" I ask him, somehow angered by his question. I don't understand why he has to ask me this question — what am I, his advisor?
"Isaac needs a mother's presence in his life," A small smile threatens to pull the edges of William's lips but I grimace at his words.
"He has me," I want to say. But I don't. I'm not his mother. I can never be. I'm just a stranger who is taking care of him voluntarily.
"Does Isaac like Cecelia?" I ask instead. At this point I know that William is reading me like an open book, I hate myself for being so vulnerable in front of people, not being strong enough to hide my emotions. But I have no choice and so despite not being able to hide the fear, the anger, the hurt, and the confusion that flashes across my face, I try my best to pull on a calm expression and help him through this logically.
"No, he does not," William shakes his head, the little glint of humour flashes across his eyes and I grit my teeth, realising he is having fun riling me up right now.
"Do you?" I shrug, staring at him straight in the eyes this time. I don't want to miss any emotion that might come and go within a split second.
William looks at me for a while, straight in the eyes before he finally answers, "No, I do not."
"There you have it."
"Do you think Isaac likes you?" William surprises me by asking me this. My wide eyes snap up to his and for a second I just stare at him.
"No," I want to say. Of course, he does not. He loves his real mum, I am just a shadow.
This time I say what's on my mind.
"No, he doesn't. He loves his mother, his real mother. I am only a shadow, a facade."
William's eyes harden again and I wonder what mistake I've made this time.
"Who does he run about calling Mum?" He asks me.
I gulp, "Me."
"Who does he get jealous for? Even of his father?"
I look away, thinking about a few minutes ago, "Me."
"Who is here, right now, in his life trying to give him all the love and more to compensate for the amount he has lost since he was born? Who is here sacrificing her time, just so he does not have to be sad anymore? Who is here holding his father's hands just so he can smile and believe that he too has a happy family?"
I blink, and the traitor tears I didn't know the origin of drops onto my lap.
Drip.
"Me," I whisper.
"There you have it."
"William dear!" Just then a series of knocks that follow the acknowledgment pulls my attention in and I turn towards the door — then gasp and turn towards Willian when the smooth pad of his thumb softly rubs against my cheeks, wiping away the tears.
Our eyes hold each other's and I stare as his eyes remain on mine, completely ignoring Mary's voice from outside the room.
"Don't cry again."
Instantly he turns towards the door and the spell is broken, "Yes, Ma?"
Looking down I stare at my chest when I realise how crazy fast my heart is beating and unconsciously pull my palm up to press it against my chest.
"I'm opening the door!" Mary yells from the other side and I immediately begin jumping off from the bed when once again his hand finds my wrist and pulls me back down, flush right beside him. Unlike the last time, I don't even turn towards William this time and instead just stick myself quietly on the bed instead.
The door opens just as I am pulled back down onto the bed and for a moment Mary just stands there and smiles at us before she walks in, the door still open.
"Kris and Cecelia are coming over for dinner tonight. Kris just called to ask if that was okay. He said it had been a while since you all got time off at the same time and just relaxed and drank a couple of bottles. He couldn't get your phone," Mary asks and I smile at her brightly, knowing quite well that my cheeks might be tinged peach-like right now.
Somehow I find that this is a great time to tell him about me wanting to take Isaac home tonight and so I do not waste time, "Ah, I kinda also promised Isaac that I'd show him my place today and we'd spend the night over there. So if you don't mind, may I take him?"
William's grip tightens around my wrist and I jump with the shocking realisation that he's still holding my hand — in front of Mary. His ex-mother-in-law. Immediately I glance up at Mary to find her gaze on the spot our skins touch and slowly begin pulling my arm from William's grasp. I feel the need to remove all physical contact in front of Mary. This is disrespectful, and not a true representation of William and I's relationship. Heck, we don't even have a relationship. At first, William doesn't budge but then I notice as his grip loosens around my wrist. Still, I realise that it's just there, loose around my wrist but not completely off. Like he's waiting for me to pull my wrist back.
I begin to remove my wrist, but suddenly his grip tightens around my hand. My eyes snap up to his.
What is going on here?
"William, please stop acting like a Neanderthal."
Mary's sweet voice timidly echoes around the room but William doesn't give a slight bit of impression that he has heard his ex-mother-in-law because his fingers still remain and so does his eyes on mine.
"Why are you upset?" I find myself whispering as I stare at him with wide eyes. Looking at him, one would find it hard to conclude that he's upset — his face is a beautiful blank mask, devoid of any emotions, good or bad. But he's holding me, and I can tell by the way he has my wrist held. He's upset.
"You didn't tell me earlier," William replies quietly, ignoring my question altogether, or maybe answering it in his way. I can't tell.
"We woke up just a couple hours ago, William, and I forgot," I admit, letting go of the slightly shocked irritation of a reaction by the end.
"Is August going to be there?"
I frown. "How does he know A"— my mind wanders back to the phone calls during my first night here and I still, realising just how much interest William was paying then.
..."Oh,"
"Oh my cousin's Manager, sure he might be there," I reply, shrugging. There is no use of lying. Lying never gets me anywhere positive. I realise I miss the warmth his hands brought to my skin when I feel him remove his fingers from my skin and pull it back towards him.
William nods, "When do you plan on leaving?"
I smile.
"By noon,"
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
"This is your other home mummy?" Isaac asks excitedly as William stops the car in front of my house, "I see bright flowers!"
I turn towards Isaac and smile at the child brightly, "Yes, it is. Do you like flowers, bubba?"
At my question, Isaac crinkles his nose, his lips set in a pout, "No, they are girly!"
"No, they aren't," I chuckle, undoing my seatbelt before getting out of the vehicle and opening Isaac's door. Glancing at William I silently motion him to do the same when I see him watching me.
"Yes, they are!" Isaac insists, his lips still slightly out in a pout. My heart warms at the sight of the adorable little child and I quickly pick him up into my arms.
"No, sweetie they aren't. Do you know what a gardener is?" I ask him patiently as William opens the vehicle's boot and pulls out Isaac's backpack before turning towards us as the boot shuts close and the vehicle beeps to let us know that everything is locked.
In my arms, Isaac frowns and drops his head against my chest with a thump. It hurts a little bit I only press the child tighter against me.
"Hmm?" I encourage the child to answer.
"No," he finally mumbles, sounding disappointed in not knowing what a Gardner is.
"What's a... a ga-ard-ner, pa?" Isaac turns towards his father and I watch as William's eyes snap to Isaac's in surprise. As if he is surprised he is being included in the conversation.
I smile at the pair and decide it's time Isaac gets closer to his dad. Literally.
Taking a step forward I lean against William and immediately Isaac climbs into his arm just as William wraps his arms around his little boy.
"Gardeners are very important people, Isaac. They plant flowers, water them, mow the lawn, and plenty of other fun stuff,"
"Oh! Like Mr. Brown!? He cuts the grass in school!"
"Yes, like Mr. Brown. He must take care of the flowers too, you know?"
"See! Mr. Brown is a man. How can flowers just be for girls then? You can like whatever you want to, Issac. It never has to be not girly and boyish for you to like doing something. There is no such thing," I smile at the child before I turn my attention towards my bag and pull out my home's keys.
"Gemma! I see you have visitors! Never seen them around before!"
I still. This is really not the time I would have liked to be caught by Mrs. Red's evergreen curiosity. As I turn around to face Mrs. Red, I glance at William and find him already looking at me with those quiet eyes of his.
What do I tell her? Hey, Mrs. Red! This is my God gifted son, Isaac, who I love too much which is very weird because I've barely known him for a week, and this is his father, William. who has awoken the hibernating butterflies in my stomach and now they won't stop fluttering!?
I take the easy way out, "Hey, Mrs. Red! Yes, you haven't!! We have a lot to catch up on! I'll tell you over tea some day!!" I yell back politely, mentally patting myself when I see the excitement in Mrs. Red's face before quickly unlocking the door I almost leap inside.
"Mummy, remove shoes?" Isaac asks me when we stop right beside the door.
"Yes, bubba," I nod, turning to grin at the proud looking child, "Just like at home. You're very smart!"
It's cute seeing him look proud of being such a quick thinker. I remind myself to keep complimenting him when he does something good. That way his low self-esteem may slowly improve and so will his fear of not being good enough. Surely the child must have a thousand things he must pinpoint about himself after his mother left him. Secretly I'm also thankful for him taking my mind off of the rapidly beating heart in my chest.
Mrs. Red is officially the first person in my 'society' to have spotted my secret life. This feels like the carefully constructed ice statue that William, Isaac and I have created for the past days has finally been hit with a hammer. I have a feeling our privacy isn't going to last much longer. Explanations are just about to begin being asked.
I hear as William pulls the door shut behind us before we begin moving towards the living room.
"Everything is so... white," Isaac marvels as he comes to stand beside me and grasps onto the hem of my dress.
I turn to look around my home. I realise Isaac's right. Now that I'm looking at it after a day, it does seem quite white or near to it. I smile as I look around the living room and feel the warmth of my warm embrace me in welcome. I've missed my home.
"It is," I giggle in reply as I play with Isaac's hair, guiding him and his father towards the living room, "I like the colour white, and I love flowers too, so you'll see them around a lot."
"That flower looks weird," Isaac mumbles, pointing towards the small pot placed behind the sofa. Glancing towards it, I turn back to the little boy and smile, "That's a cactus. It's a lovely thing but it hurts when you touch it so promise me you won't touch it?"
"How is it lovely when it hurts you?"
The asker of the question catches me off guard and my brown eyes shoot to his, realising that he's still standing at the entrance of the living room, leaning against the white wall.
"Everything you find lovely has the power to hurt you. Someone's smile or this cactus, it makes no difference,"
"Mummy I wanna go explore the house!" Isaac suddenly jumps on my lap and I gasp as I hold onto him just as we begin to fall back onto the sofa. My back lands on the cushions of the sofa and Issac's head collides with my mouth as he falls on me.
It hurts. My lips. I know it's bleeding. I can almost smell the iron in the putrid red substance oozing from my lips.
"ISSAC!"
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
How I imagine her home to look like:
Somewhat larger than this, but with the same aesthetics. A lot more airy too.
-J