Starting Over

Chapter 2: Home, sweet home.

"Hi Mum."

"Elle?" Melinda stood in the doorway with her mouth hanging open.

"Grandma!" Georgia cried out.

"Gamma," Tilly echoed.

"Girls! Oh, what a surprise! Wait till I tell your father you're here." Melinda turned her head and yelled, "Robert!" into the house.

The 2 girls hugged Melinda, and Elle shifted the weight of the duffel bag she had slung over her shoulder. She didn't get a wink of sleep the night before. For the first 2 hours after Brandon had walked out she sat on the end of the bed in disbelief. For the next 2 hours she cried. The following 2 hours she spent trying to call and text him. She'd even sent him an email. He didn't reply, of course.

Robert appeared behind Melinda.

"Elle! Girls!" He beamed and held out his arms.

"Hi Dad." Elle gave him a brief hug.

"What a surprise," he said.

"I just said that, didn't I Elle?" Melinda asked, still smiling and pinching the girls cheeks.

Elle nodded. "Yes, Mum."

"Well what are you doing here?" Robert asked.

"Where's Brandon?" Melinda interrupted, craning her neck to see if he was in the car.

"He kicked me out," Elle said, clenching her jaw in anger.

"What?" Melinda's face was suddenly serious. "What did you do?"

Elle rolled her eyes, just like she used to when she was a teenager, and immediately regretted it. "I didn't do anything, Mum."

"Well you must have done something to that sweet boy. You need to call him up right now and apologise."

"Mum," Elle groaned.

"Brandon has been nothing but good to you, Elle. Whatever you've done to upset him, you need to fix. Now."

"Mum!" Elle yelled and everyone fell silent. She cleared her throat. "Brandon left me for another woman."

Melinda paled. "No."

Elle nodded. "Yes."

"No," Melinda said again.

"Yes." Elle insisted.

"He wouldn't."

"Oh my gosh, would you stop. He did, alright."

Melinda was silent for a moment. Robert said nothing.

"Why don't we all go inside?" Robert suggested. "I'll put the kettle on."

They all walked inside and into the large open-plan kitchen and Elle dumped her bag beside the sofa.

"I have some toys for the girls to play with," Melinda said and disappeared into another room. Robert made himself busy in the kitchen making a pot of tea. He was never good with emotions and would be glad to have an excuse not to get involved.

Melinda reappeared quickly carrying a tub of toys. "Here you go, girls." She sat the tub on the floor and the girls immediately began pulling out the dolls and accessories.

"Are they my old Barbies?" Elle asked.

"Your mother kept them all," Robert spoke up with his back to them.

"I wanted to keep them in case you ever decided to visit. I knew the girls would love them." Melinda smiled and stroked Tilly's hair.

"Sorry it's been a while," Elle said.

"Humph. A while. The girls have never been here." Melinda pressed her lips together.

"Melinda," Robert's tone held a warning.

"What? It's true? Is it that difficult to visit your own mother?" Mother was speaking to Robert, but her words were intended for Elle.

Elle sat on a stool by the Mable bench top and felt a pang of guilt. "I'm sorry. We wanted to visit sooner, it's just . . . life was busy."

"Too busy to see your own parents, obviously." Melinda huffed and stared dramatically over the expansive backyard.

Buckle up, Elle, we're going on a guilt trip.

"Mum, I'm sorry. Really, I am. Brandon hated coming back here, and every time I suggested we come back he'd come up with an excuse as to why that particular weekend was unavailable."

Melinda tilted her head, but continued staring outside.

"Mum, please. We're here now . . . and we'd like to stay for a while. If that's ok?" Elle bit her lower lip. "At least until I get myself back on my feet."

Melinda shrugged her shoulders a few times.

"Please?" Elle stood behind her mother and placed her hands on her shoulders, leaning in close. "You can help look after the girls, and teach them how to swim in the pool—just like you taught me."

Melinda's eyes flashed and her lips pulled into a smile.

"Does that sound OK?" Elle asked.

"Well, I suppose so." Melinda smiled and turned around, giving Elle a big hug. "Oh, I've missed you my little Elly-belly."

"I've missed you too."

"White and one?" Robert asked.

"No sugar for me," Elle said and made her way back over to the kitchen bench where she'd been sitting.

"So Brandon really left?" Melinda asked as Robert handed her a cup of tea.

Elle nodded and took another cup from Robert. "Thanks Dad."

"I just can't believe he'd do such a thing. He was always such a sweet boy."

Hmph. Now was probably not the best time to tell Melinda how Brandon used to tell her he'd be taking Elle out for dinner, but instead take her to a private location to fool around in his car.

"And what about the girls?" Robert glanced down to where Georgia and Tilly were playing. "Are you going to get shared custody?"

"He said I can have full custody."

"Strange," Melinda said. "This is not like him at all."

Again, Elle bit her tongue instead of saying, "You didn't know the real Brandon." A pang of sadness hit her as she realised she might have never known the real Brandon either.

"Well you're welcome to stay here for as long as you like," Robert said. "We've got plenty of room and, now that we're retired, we've got plenty of time."

"That we do," Melinda said. "Too much time. There's only so much gardening you can do. But now . . . now we can teach the girls to swim, and take them to ballet, and piano lessons, and—"

"Mum, they're only young, remember. 1 and 3. I don't think they're ready for piano lessons."

"Nonsense. You started playing when you were 3."

"I was not 3," Elle frowned.

"Yes you were. 3 years old and already a budding Mozart."

"Dad." Elle looked at him for support.

"Maybe not 3," Robert said. "I think she was closer to 6."

"Pfft, both of you have a terrible memory."

Elle sipped her tea. Already they were arguing over minute details and she had the sudden feeling that she was becoming a teenager again. No thank you. She'd already been through those awkward years once, she did not want to do it again.

But here she was. Her mother hadn't changed. And no doubt they would clash, like they always had. And her dad would have remained silent. And neutral. She wished was anywhere but here. But what choice did she have?

With no money, no job, no husband, and 2 kids depending on her she needed to do whatever it would take to pick herself up, dust herself off, and make a life for herself.

Even if it meant living with her parents again.