Falling Dawn (II)

Chapter 21

Emma and Sam were so excited when I told them about the trip to Germany and India. In the evening, however, their aunty from Perth called to invite them both to stay a week with her during the holidays. Peter's sister had two children, around the same age as my two. She had always strived to keep the contact to us. When the kids were younger, I often looked after her two while she went on weekend trips with her husband. Since we never had any spare money, I was always around to watch them, or so it must have seemed to everyone. The annoying thing was that she'd always made those arrangements with Peter, who then just went to sleep or knocked himself out with alcohol, so that I had all the work. Since his death, she'd never asked, only invited Emma and Sam. From time to time I suggested for them to come to visit us, but she'd always declined, reasoning that it would surely be too much for me. The irony was that it used to be too much with Peter around, it wasn't any more.

After explaining to her that we had plans to go overseas, she suggested the kids join them the weekend before in the Blue Mountains. Holidays in Western Australia started a week earlier and they'd be spending the first week in Sydney and surroundings. The twins couldn't believe their luck, and I mine.

"Are you ready for soccer practice," Tom called for Sam, who appeared in his new Socceroos outfit, which Tom had gotten for him. Tom looked just stunning in his black and red track pants, matching shirt and black and white shoes. The yellow coach bag from the club made his look complete. For me anyhow. If I hadn't decided already, I certainly was now coming along to watch the show.

That Tom was an incredible soccer player I had known before, but just how great he was at training those boys was unbelievable. They basically stuck to him like a burr. So did all the mums on the sideline. Yes, his butt looked amazing in simple tracks, his biceps sticking out from under his shirt sleeves and that smile and those sharp eyes would have given most of them their own fantasies. But he was mine, and he made sure everyone knew when he greeted me with a delicate but obvious kiss after training. I felt fiery eyes on my back. My years of longing for their perfect families had now turned into envious looks at me. It was a great feeling, but I was also aware that it might have been just my imagination. I got along well with all of the mums and was certain, they were all as happy for me as they said they were, or at least partly.

I lived my life in a fairy tale over the following days. Tom was the perfect partner and male role model for my kids. When before I'd often found him deep in thought with a sad face, he now seemed to be happy all around, full of enthusiasm, dancing through life. I started to trust him, fully, something that was hard for me to achieve after years of lies. I felt very fortunate.

~~~ ~~~ ~~~

The past week had been considerably cold. The happier I was when it did heat up again the following week. With the uncertainty of the March weather, not knowing how many more beautiful days the season would bring, I decided to take my chance while Tom was sitting on the computer to swim a few laps. Stepping out on the deck in the new yellow bikini I had bought at the Gold Coast and a beach towel thrown over my arm, the strong sun blinded my eyes even with my sunnies on. It took me a few moments to get used to the light, when I noticed Tom sitting on the sun lounge with his side to me. He obviously hadn't planned on going for a swim, still wearing his long jeans and blue t-shirt from the morning. He must have been hot in those pants in the sun. Surprised, I stopped in front of the pool fence, watching him. I'd thought he was in the study working. Absorbed in his Skype conversation, Tom didn't notice me. I couldn't see the picture, but clearly recognised the same female voice I had heard before. "He'll be thrilled to see you. He wouldn't admit it, but he does miss you."

After all those perfect days, it was again like a stab to the heart.

I hadn't noticed that I had leaned too far forward, making the pool fence shake. The noise startled Tom, who looked up at me with fear in his face. Staring at me, he ignored the female on his screen, before telling her that he needed to go. It was a staring contest. Neither of us said a word, neither of us moved. Feeling the anger rise, my breathing got heavier, my thoughts running wild. I felt like screaming, but I had promised myself that I was not ever going to go there again. Nothing would be achieved. I had tried it often enough. In the end, I only felt guilt for my outbursts. So I did what I had always envied people do. Trying hard to keep my cool, or at least pretend to keep it. I ignored Tom, went through the gate and jumped into the pool.

Hitting the cold water surface was welcoming refreshing. But it didn't seem to help. With clumsy breast strokes and only lumps of thoughts in my head, I struggled moving along. I was fuming now. Concentrate on swimming, Lisa, I told myself. He can explain himself later. - What if he doesn't? He hasn't so far and he knows that it drives you insane. - How can he not fill me in on this? - He must have a deep secret. Maybe something illegal? No, he wouldn't. It's something he knows will hurt my feelings and he wants to avoid it. Knowing Tom's secret must be worse for me than the anger over not knowing. He does have a child. It's obvious. - I wouldn't be angry over that. - No, I would. - But only because he didn't tell me from the start. We are at a point in our relationship where he should have filled me in. We're not going to work out. Tom is not letting me in. - He is avoiding his own secrets and fears. How could he ever let me in?

I struggled breathing. I struggled staying over water. My body felt numb. My mind was numb. When I reached the side of the pool, I hang on to the edge, took a few deep breathes and then, throwing all good intentions overboard, a torrent of words left my lips. With no control over the word flow I screamed at Tom. My anger only put more fire into the blaze.

"I thought you had opened up to me, I thought you were honest, I thought you were different. But you're like everyone else, just full of bullshit. You don't want to tell me who you are oh so concerned about? That's fine. I don't care."

"Lisa, please," Tom begged, leaning forward on the sun lounge. But I didn't care. I didn't want to hear it.

"I don't care, Tom. Who is this woman you keep on talking to? She's no one? You tell me not to worry? You tell me that you're not ready to tell me? Do you think I'm stupid, Tom. If you want to be in a relationship, you can't shove me aside like that. I've been there, and I'm not going there again. Let me tell you something. It's going to eat you alive: All your secrets, all your fears. Unless you face them, you will not move on, you will not be happy, you will not be able to make anyone else happy. You just shove all that shit that happened to you aside, refuse to talk about it and pretend you don't care. What kind of a person doesn't care that they don't know anything about their family. You must care. You should care. Why? Why?" My screaming turned into sobbing. I felt helpless, knowing that I was unable to change anything, and becoming aware that once again I had blown it. Tom wasn't a bad person. I knew that. He was the victim of a non-functioning system. And instead of supporting him, I blamed him. But I didn't have any more time to think about what I had said. Tom got off the lounge and now stood right in front of me. From above me, not even half as loud as I had been, but no less angry, he fumed back at me.

"You think I don't care? Not a single day of my life has passed where I didn't ask myself where I came from and why I ended up where I did. But let me tell you something. You can't spend decades crying over it, trying to find answers to questions that don't have answers. There are a lot of memories in my mind that I don't dare think about. Where am I supposed to put them? Do you think it helps if I put every piece of shit that happened to me on to you? That's not going to make it better, is it?"

Suddenly Tom stopped. He looked at me intensely, only for a short moment. I felt terrible for what I'd shouted at him.

"I'm sorry, Tom," I apologised. "I"

"I can't deal with this right now, Lisa." Tom grabbed his laptop and without looking at me a second time, he left.

Memories of when he'd left me in the pool weeks earlier rushed through my mind. This time was different, I told myself. We were not just an arrangement. I'd follow him inside and apologise.

When I went inside not even five minutes later, I couldn't find Tom anywhere. When I called his phone, I heard it ring in the bedroom, where it was sitting on the bedside table. The kids would be home soon, so I couldn't leave the house to look for him. Telling myself to stay calm, that he'd be back soon, probably just letting off steam, I waited. But Tom didn't come back. I didn't want the kids to know that anything was wrong. Pretending everything was normal, I went for another swim and played cards with them. But every time they spoke to me, I felt annoyed, just wanting to be able to follow my thoughts. How am I ever going to apologise for the terrible things I said?