2022 WATTYS SHORTLISTED || After being forced into a marriage by her devoutly religious parents, Aspen's husband is diagnosed with a life-limiting illness, and she must find her purpose as well as fight feelings for her husband's nurse. || Aspen Wat...
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I've always thought it was weird how I tend to wake up a minute or two before an alarm goes off, or I get a phone call or text. I've always wondered if our brains could sense something, or if our unconsciousness just knows the time, like an automatic thing. My mum and dad would say it's God waking us up nicely before we get rudely awakened by the alarm or phone or whatever it is. So, when I stir the next morning, I know something is going to happen. I haven't set an alarm either, so someone wants me.
My phone chimes a text message. 'Hi Aspen, is it okay if I stop by the flat? Monica.' Joel's mum. I quickly text her back asking for half an hour. When she responds with a thumbs up, I sigh and get out of bed. As I stare at the list of messages, I groan when I spot 'my daisy' from Nicholas. I shake my head and put my phone in the kitchen. That is something to deal with later.
Half an hour later, the buzzer rings. When I open the door, Monica's standing there with a grimace on her face. Her long brown hair is in a tight bun, and she has no makeup on. She must be feeling awful.
"Monica, come in," I greet. "Tea?"
"Tea would be lovely, thanks, sweetheart. I'll do it, I bet you're still exhausted," she says and gets working as if she lives here with us.
An awkwardness fills the room – anticipation, a piece of common unspoken knowledge that we both refuse to speak about. It's so silent, I can hear the water bubbling in the kettle as it reaches its breaking point – like my nerves.
I bite the skin on my lip, staring at Monica's striped shirt as she faces the kettle.
"A watched kettle never boils." I break the silence. She chuckles but doesn't turn around. "That's what my mum says anyway."
"Probably the only thing your mother says that makes sense, my girl," Monica quips. I wince a little, but she's right. "Sorry, she's still your mother."
"You're right though," I point out. "We're not telling them about... about Joel."
She hums and finishes making the drinks. She puts mine on the table in front of me and sits opposite me. Her smooth features for a forty-four-year-old astound me still. At forty-nine, my mother looks older than her years. She would see it as God giving her kind features. I just see it as years of stressing over whether she'll get into an afterlife she doesn't know for sure is real.
"I suppose all these years, they've meant well. Sarah and Graham always have, well, mainly Sarah. They let their faith go above everything else, including you. I don't want to see you or Joel suffer the same fate." She sighs. "The best thing for the two of you, especially now, is for them to leave you alone. They've done their damage. Luckily for Joel, and you – you're both happy."
