Love with a Bang

2. Aida

"Well, that's it until your next appointment. Once we get the shape fixed, you'll be back in tip top shape in no time.", Dr Gilligan chuckled. The man never stopped chuckling. He has one of those voices. A constant laugh. It's admirable really, to be so happy all of the time. "Thanks, Dr Gilligan. See you next week". " Say hi to Polly for me, won't ya? "he shouts after me and I can't help but shake my head and smile. I give a quick wave to the lady at the front desk, who may as well be my doctor, she's known about me and my eye, or lack thereof, for so long. Polly, my parrot (yes, I'm aware of the irony. She was already named when I got her) is my emotional support animal. I got her 2 years after the accident. They said because she sings, it will block out the noise. I can lock myself away in a dark room when the fireworks begin, but I can't tune out the noise. She knows when I need something else to focus on when the fireworks starts. Here rendition of Milkshake is quite something, but it doesn't fully drown out the noise.

As I walk out the door towards the bus stop, my phone rings and the text to speech function notifies me that it's my mother. I take a deep breath and without overthinking it press the green button. "Hi Mom". "Sweetie, how are you? How did it go? Did you tell him about the pain? Are you getting a new prosthetic?" " I'm fine. It went well. Yes I told him and yes I'm getting a new one. How are you? Did you and Dad enjoy your trip?" I love my mother, but as over protective as she was before the accident, think of overprotectiveness, akin to Nemo's dad. I continuously remind that it's been a long time and I am an adult now, but she still feels the need to be all up in my business. Sometimes it's a blessing. Sometimes a curse. There are times when the memories return and I can feel the pain all over again, times when the nightmares become more frequent and I struggle to get out of bed. When that happens, I know I can rely on her to make sure I eat and at least shower once a week. However, when I'm fine, living a relatively normal life, and she keeps fretting, it can be frustrating. Mom tells me all about the details of her trip with Dad, going into details no child needs to hear. Once she begins to trail off, I already know what's coming next. The sympathy. I cut her off before she even has a chance to act on that tone "Mom I'm just about to flag down the bus, I'll call you later" I squeeze out before I she delves too much further into how beauty is on the inside, not the outside and now I will find a man soon who will love me for me. I get on the bus and find my usual seat at the front and stick my Air Pods in to avoid the incessant chatter of people talking on the phone and shouting at children to behave.

It's nearing Halloween, the worst time of year. As the bus drives through the small villages before my home, I see the decorations in the windows and the families clearly competing for "who dunnit better". There's always the dads who have to have the best decorated garden for the holidays. My family doesn't celebrate Halloween anymore. Well, at least when I'm there. I've come to terms with my accident. I've had therapy, learned to live with half vision. So much so, I've started practising for my driving test. I'm living my best life, and enjoying hot girl autumn miles away from home. I'll get through it like I do every year, Polly, me and my best friends Ben & Jerry.

I arrived back at my studio apartment. It's on the ground floor so I don't have to worry about stairs. I pick up the paper and advertisement sheets that were thrown outside the door and grab my keys. They jingle with gusto and it's another reminder to stop buying cute keychains. They're great right? Until you have so many you can't find the keys you were looking for in the first place. Once I walk in, Polly screeches. Her usual greeting, even though she can talk. Almost as if she's too busy to actually acknowledge me, but remembers her job is emotional support and gives a quick squeak to make sure she gets paid for the day. I wander over to the kitchen, dropping the papers I picked up in the trash. My bag gets plopped on the kitchen island while I wash my hands to get the grime of the day off them. Public transport is great. It's cheaper than buying fuel for the car but damn those railings you have to hold onto. Bleurgh. I run around, getting the last of my dishes done then, trying to clean up a tiny bit before Millie arrives.

Millie is my best friend. Has been since I moved out of my small hometown. When I arrived at Tara Bay, I couldn't understand the maps. Two streets with the same name? That hardly makes sense. So I made my way into a cute cafe with floral arrangements and white hanging basket chairs. Surely these people were kind and could help. I was right. Millie stood there, jeans and a T-shirt with one of those tablet order-taking things dangling from her hand. She took one look at me and said "You're new around here right? You're moving into the apartment on Centric street?". I remember standing there, wondering when the neon light above my head decided to appear and tell absolute strangers my business but then she laughed and said "Sweetie, I'm not a stalker. It's just no one new comes through this town, with Google maps shouting out directions. Plus the timing. Old man Bob, told me there would be a newbie moving in soon". Thus, our friendship was born. She provides me with Oat Caramel Cappuccinos and I provide entertainment in the form of dramatic breakdowns, and various crocheted goods. Two knocks and a door handle shimmy (our code) and Millie walked in with the bean juice I so desperately craved and whatever leftover treats she couldn't sell today because of damages. I don't care if my sticky toffee muffin is cracked in the middle and considered flawed. I'll treat it like any other baked good. Eat it with no remorse or grace and enjoy every stinking crumb of it. I place my cow patterned crochet coasters on the white island top for Mille to place the coffees onto. There is nothing worse than trying to scrub stains from a white countertop. Millie remarks on the new coaster addition while plopping everything down squealing 'I need to pee!' as she runs toward the bathroom. We're that close, she doesn't even close the door as she starts retelling the story of the hot guy she served at work today. 'Aida, you don't understand. He ordered his Vanilla Latte and winked. Winked! Who does that these days? It was so hot. And his arms...'. This is the point where I start to zone out. Millie is great but she tends to go a bit far with her encounters with those of the male persuasion and it usually ends up with her deciding to mother his children. ".. and then I handed him his latte and our fingers lingered a bit on the cup. Aida, I swear I am going to have this man's babies." See?

Post piss discussions of Millie's hypothetical baby daddy, concluded and cappuccinos drained it was time to sit down with ice cream and watch the next episode of the Great Bake Bonanza. Except, crisis alert, I have no ice cream. This will not do. Turning guiltily toward Millie, I give my best puppy dog eye as I explain the dire situation we're in. We drafted a plan to run to the shop, 5 minutes away to gather supplies. Millie drives, because duh, still no licence, at record speed so that we won't see too many spoilers on social media before we catch up on tonight's episode. It's lashing rain so we have to make a deal to get out of the car on the count of three to avoid soakage. Once we reach three, the two of us dash for the shelter of the overhang. Once safely under shelter, Millie clicks the lock button on her key fob and we walk briskly into the shop. Having no time to waste, we make our way straight to the freezer aisle, wearing our best 'don't talk to us' faces so as not to be stopped by the town gossip's who are wandering close by. Rushing down to the Ben & Jerry's freezer, we both turn to each other, nod once and say "Phish Food?". Mutual agreement reached, I swing open the door that houses my dairy delight and start to grab 2 tubs. 'Millie, look! They have a tub of limited edi... Ooof". What the fuck? I turn to look at whoever decided to bulldoze into me while fangirling about ice cream. Nothing could have prepared me for what I saw. "Oh, sorry. I didn't see you there", he rushed. When he meets my eye, having reached down to rescue the pint of ice cream I dropped on impact, I see the flare of recognition in his eye. "Shit... um here you go", he mutters as he shoves his hand out, handing me back my ice cream. My brain still hasn't quite caught up with my vision. Lachlan is standing in front of me. Here. In the small town I fled to, with the hopes of forgetting my past. Away from the constant walking reminders of that night. I can see him getting ready to say something else when Millie rounds the corner, "Aida, look what I... Oh hey there! I remember you. You ordered the Vanilla Latte this morning right?". Mille looks at me, wiggling her eyebrows, not so subtly. No. Vanilla Latte guy? Lachlan cannot be Millie's hypothetical baby daddy. Impossible. Why is he even here? I've lived here for 2 years now. I've never seen him around town and with Millie's reaction today, it's clear she hasn't either. "Millie, we better go before these start to melt", I all but squeak as I grab her arm and pull her towards the tills. "Aida, what the fuck. That's Latte guy. Why do you look like you've seen a ghost?". Shit, was it that obvious I knew him? Millie comes to a halt, and pulls me to stop beside her. "Seriously Aida, you look like you're about to pass out.". I can see her brow furrowing, and knowing I would not be able to live with myself if I gave her premature wrinkles, I resume the swift pace, but the end goal isn't the tills. It's the wine. "C'mon, we're going to need wine for this one."