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I thought that was because I needed so desperately to feel as though I was normal, that going back would be like admitting that I’d failed at my life’s dream of travelling the world. But the deep, dark truth I’ve carried with me is that I couldn’t bear to return to a house empty of ghosts.
I sent my friends away, and I hated myself for it. I still do. Those two miserable years when I lived in the house without them were the worst years of my life. I didn’t even know if they’d crossed over or not. I thought I’d lost them forever because I’d been so wrapped up in myself that I didn’t appreciate what was right in front of me.
And because of that, I hurt my mum.
I hurt Pax, Ambrose, and Edward.
I missed out on all these years with my parents.
Running away really doesn’t solve your problems. Who would’ve thought?
I stare at my hands. I hate myself today.
Mum sighs. “I didn’t mean to snap at you, darling. I know you had difficult teen years. I completely understand why you had to leave, and your father and I are so proud of you for going off on your own and making such a success of yourself.”
I don’t know if I’d call five years of working in grungy pubs and being groped by pimply, Kerouac-worshipping tour managers who smell faintly of cheese ‘making a success of myself,’ but sure.
Mum clears her throat and continues. “We’re proud of you…but we’ve missed you, too. Your dad especially. I know you’re mad at us for keeping his illness a secret all those months, but we thought it was for the best. We didn’t want you to worry while you were off having your adventures. We didn’t want to stand in your way of going after what you’ve always wanted.”
But what if what I always wanted is a lie?
“I’m sorry too, Mum.” The words tumble out of me, as if they’ve been sitting on the tip of my tongue waiting to dive out. “I’m sorry that I made you feel like I ran away from you. That’s not it at all. Grimwood was such a wonderful place to grow up. It was a haven from Kelly and Leanne and all of that. But then…it wasn’t anymore, and I didn’t know how to deal with that. I was lost, and I needed to find myself. I thought I’d find myself in Greece or New Zealand, but I was wrong. I never meant to hurt you and Dad. I’ve missed you so much while I’ve been away, but the longer I was gone, the easier it became not to come back. And now Iamback and everything’s changing. And I don’t mean to make it more difficult for you. I know that you have to do this. I just…I guess I just thought Grimwood would always be here. That you and Dad would always—”
Mum’s face collapses. She gathers me into her arms. Unlike Dad, Mum’s never been a big hugger, so this is kind of a shock. She presses me tight against her, crushing my cheek into her breast, “Oh, honey. Is that what this is about? Your father and I aren’t going anywhere soon.”
You don’t know that. No one knows.
I’ve had a lifetime of ghosts yelling at me about the unfairness of death to back that up.
I swipe at my tears. “Dad’s personality is in every room of the house. I don’t want him to be painted over and shoved out into the outbuilding, especially not when he won’t be able to paint murals at your new place.”
“You listen to me, Bree Mortimer. Your dad may have some shaky hands and some new pills he has to remember to take, but he’s not on death’s door. Parkinson’s isn’t terminal. Your dad will face this challenge the same way he has faced every challenge in his life – with a smile and a silly joke and a lot of creativity.” She smiles down at me, but the smile is tinged with sadness. “He will fill his life with new hobbies like riding his bike and annoying me about things he’s misplaced.”
“Dad has a bike?”
“Oh, yes. It’s lime green with a big basket and a fog horn.”
“Of course.” I can’t help but smile.
“Your father will never think that he is less than or that he has been given a rotten lot, so don’t you think that, either.”
“I know,” I sniff. “But…”
“You don’t have to explain.” She strokes my hair. “I know. I fucking know.”
I snort. I don’t think I’ve ever heard my mother swear.
“I don’t want to paint over Dad’s mural.” I sniff. “I know…I know it’s silly, and I know that the new owners will probably paint over it anyway, but I can’t—”
“Okay.” Mum pats my leg. “We’ll do everything else Gwen says, but we won’t paint over the mural. But I expect you – and Pax – to help me take apart this sodding bed and move it into the outbuilding. Deal?”
“Deal.”
“Good.” Mum pats my knee. “And darling?”
“Yes?”
“If I were you, I wouldn’t keep pushing those boys of yours away.”
