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Once, Laurence watched Tom learn to crawl. Saw his first tiny wave with a chubby little fist. I can’t imagine he ever thought that one day that baby would grow up and be a convicted criminal, imprisoned at the age of twenty.
What happened to these kids? Were there a series of tiny choices that led to their addictions, or were they doomed from the start. I find myself listening closer, looking for answers, hoping to avoid making the same mistakes they did.
If only I could shelter Max from harm. Wrap him up in cotton wool and chase the world away. I hate the thought he’s going to experience sadness. Heartache and rejection. Perhaps that’s the cruellest part of being a parent. Knowing as hard as you try, you can’t protect them from everything.
“It isn’t your fault,” Jackie joins in. I can tell by the way she’s wriggling on her seat that she’s desperate to get up and give Laurence a hug. Not that he looks like the hugging type. I expect he’d endure it politely, trying desperately not to look at Jackie’s more than ample bosom, but I don’t think it would give him much comfort.
At this point I’m not even sure there’s comfort to be had.
“We’ve reached the end of our hour,” I say, reluctantly. It took us all a while to warm up today, and the first twenty minutes were filled with pointed silence and quiet mumbles. It’s always a shame when we get only forty minutes of quality discussion time. “I’ll see you here the same time next week?”
A few nods, a couple of thanks, and the loud noise of chairs scraping against the floor fill the air. I start to stack them in the corner and Laurence comes over to help me, working silently beside me as everybody else troops out.
“Thank you for today,” he says quietly. “It’s good to know I’m not alone out there.”
Now I’m the one who wants to hug him. I dig my fingernails into the palms of my hands, reminding myself I’m a therapist, not a cuddler.
“I’m glad you came. I know we don’t have all the answers, but we do want to listen. And everybody wants to help.”
“Even Jackie,” Laurence says, and the ghost of a smile crosses his lips.
“Especially Jackie.”
After Laurence leaves, I take a moment to grab my phone from my bag. I’ve been trying to call Alex since yesterday, desperate to tell him about Max’s first crawl. I left a voicemail fi
rst thing this morning, asking Stuart to get Alex to call me back, but I’ve heard nothing since. Of course, I haven’t had a chance to try again since I got to work.
Predictably, there’s a missed call and a voicemail. I press on the icon, then listen to the automated voice as she tells me I have one new message.
“Hey, I can’t believe I’ve missed you again. The reception out here’s crap. We’re about to get on a bus to Chicago in five minutes, but you can try and call me when you get the message. Or I’ll call you when we get to the hotel some time tonight. Love you, babe.”
Frustrated, I delete the message and try the number again, but all I hear is Stuart’s recorded voice. I leave a low-key message, telling Alex I’ll try him again later, wishing him luck in tomorrow’s concert. Then I go back to my office, ready for my final counselling session of the day, hoping at some point this week, I’ll actually get a chance to talk to my husband.
* * *
Max goes to sleep quickly this evening. It's as if he knows I've had a hard day and wants to make my life easy. I stand and watch him for a while, as his bow-lips pucker in his sleep, looking like his daddy when he sings softly into a microphone.
Pouring myself a cup of tea, I call Beth, needing to hear a friendly voice. If I'm brutally honest, as nice as it is to get some peace and quiet, I can't help but feel lonely on nights like this. There's an Alex-shaped hole in the flat, his absence making everything seem a bit less vibrant.
“Hello, stranger.” As soon as I hear her voice it makes me smile. “How's things?”
I can't tell you how good it is to hear her voice. All the frustrations of the day seem to quieten inside me. Beth has a way of bringing inner peace.
“Different day, same problems,” I say. “It's been a long week.”
“It's only Monday.” Her laugh is soft. “What's up?”
Where do I start? Taking a sip of my lukewarm tea, I lean back in my chair, letting my eyes fall shut. “Ugh, I don't know. I've been playing voicemail tennis with Alex for days, and he missed Max's first crawl yesterday. I haven't even had a chance to tell him.”
“Aww, he'll be gutted to have missed it. Maybe you can video it for him or something?”
“I suppose so. But I want him to see it for himself, not on a stupid phone screen. I feel like a single parent. It's not fair.” I know I sound spoiled, but I also know Beth understands me. I need to vent, to let it out.
It's either that or stew all night.
“It's not for long. He'll be back before you know it. Leaving the toilet seat up. Filling up the laundry basket. You'll ache for these days, believe me.”
“I miss him so much.” I wrinkle my nose. “More than I thought I would.”
