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unravelling
Now
“Isaac!”I holler from the kitchen. I’m pretty damn sure he can hear me in his room because it’s not that far away. "Isaac, we’re going to be late." I march across to his door and rap my fingers against it. He’s been in there sulking since yesterday afternoon when I had to pick him up from school early because he was excluded for the rest of the day for fighting.
There is still no answer, so I twist the doorknob and let myself in. “What are you doing?”
He’s on his bed, hands behind his head, ankles crossed and staring at the ceiling. There isn’t much for him to do because I’ve taken away all his games and gadgets, but there are still these old-fashioned things called books he could pick up if he wanted.
Freddy wanted to do the whole softly talking thing, but I won’t have my child fighting so I took the hard line. Isaac looked at us with contempt as we talked about it in hushed tones, trying not to let our conflict show.
“Isaac, I know you’re cross, but we have to be at that race.” I start to lose my temper. “Actually, Isaac, it should be me that’s cross, but here I am trying to get you out for the day.”
“No, Mum.” His voice drips with the sardonic hatred that he’s been directing towards me for the last two weeks, around the time the fighting, squabbling, and general appalling behaviour started. “You have to be at that race, the Bale family have to be at that race, and I’m not part of that, am I?” This is an outright challenge, I can tell by the tone. The only other challenge he’s ever placed at my feet was the time when he told me that he really didn’t like Weetabix and if I gave it to him one more time he was going to pour it over my head. I gave it to him one more time out of principle.
“Well, you’re my son, and Freddy is, well he’s my . . .” I trail off here, not sure how to quantify the forever status that binds Freddy and I together.
“He’s your what?”
“Boyfriend. Why are you being like this? I thought you liked Freddy, liked doing the car thing?” I sit on the edge of the bed and attempt to soften my tone.
This has been building since Christmas, since Ring-gate. I know I was surprised, and at the time, Isaac seemed kind of pleased; surprised as well, but adjusting to the idea. I run the inside of my little finger along the ring, a constant reminder that it’s there for an eternity.
“Yes, Mum. But he’s not anything to me, is he?” He ignores my question and lets loose one of his own. I should point out the semantics of the situation that it’s rude to answer a question with a question but I’m too intent on his words and his tone.
“Isaac, what is this about?” I demand again.
He kicks his legs into the mattress. “Nothing. Come on, let’s go if it’s going to get you off my back.”
I let out a gasp of shock. “Don’t ever talk to me like that. I’m your mother and I deserve respect.”
Isaac just raises his eyebrows and pushes past me.
He’s still just over three years away from being a teenager. What further delights do I still have to look forward to?
At the track,Isaac stalks away from me, finding a dim corner to lurk in. The dark looks he shoots me tell me that whatever is playing on his mind hasn’t lessened on the journey here. Across the room I spy Mai and Henry. Mai waves at me, so I wander in their direction, hoping that Henry will have disappeared before I get there.No such luck.
Henry greets me with a smug smile. “So, I hear there were issues at school yesterday?”
Mai smacks him hard across the stomach.
“No,” I reply tartly.
Henry laughs and claps his hand onto my back. “It’s okay, Amber. Isaac wouldn’t be a normal child if he didn’t find the situation of the last few months too much to deal with. And dealing he is clearly not.”
I start to feel very hot under the collar. “What are you implying, Henry?”You total arse.
“Just that I think your expectations of having Isaac accept your move here, your relationship with Freddy, and now the living with him forever situation may have been a bit much.”
“Whatever happened yesterday at school has got nothing to do with that,” I state firmly, my anger simmering just below the surface.
“How do you know? Did Isaac tell you?” Henry lifts an eyebrow and I swear I’m going to punch him.
“Stay out of my business, Henry,” I seethe.
“No. Not when it drags my son into it as well.” With his words, he spins and walks away, instantly lightening his voice to call out to people he knows.
I turn to Mai. “Is that what you want as well, for Isaac to stay away from Bailey?”
