Mum’s smile grew. ‘I think it might be mutual.’
Daniel frowned. ‘Do you want me to talk to him?’
‘No!’ Mum said, waving her hand. ‘You’ll only embarrass him. Besides, it’s a little crush, it’s not hurting anyone.’
Daniel shrugged and, after a moment, went back to looking for stones. Once she was sure he was distracted, Mum looked me dead in the eye, and smiled.
FERN
Wally knocks at my front door at 6.45 pm, exactly fifteen minutes earlier than the suggested time of 7 pm. This little detail alone is enough to make me second-guess myself. It’s been a week since I decided to end my relationship with Wally, but this has been the first time I’ve had the opportunity and inclination to do it. Wally always seems to be working late, or travelling, or in meetings. He hasn’t been to the library once. Rose has used this as reinforcement that I am doing the right thing.
‘You see? He doesn’t have time to even see you. When would he have time to raise a baby?’
She has a point. As usual.
Wally knocks again, and I open the door.
‘Hey,’ he says. For the first time in ages, Wally isn’t wearing a suit. He is wearing that lumberjack shirt he had on the first time I saw him at the library, with jeans and sneakers. He is even wearing his stripy hat. He gives me a smile that, somehow, makes me feel sad.
‘Hello.’ The pitch of my voice is a little higher than usual. I’d had a flutter in my chest all day thinking about what I was going to do tonight, but suddenly the flutter is more of a flapping. I wrap my arms around myself and take a deep slow breath.
‘Are you okay?’ Wally asks, still in the doorway.
Over the past week, as Wally and I have communicated via text message, he has asked me this many times. He has also asked me to forgive him. Each time, I have informed him that there is no need to ask forgiveness; on the contrary, I am the one who should apologise. Still, Wally has obviously sensed something is up, perhaps due to the absence of x’s in our text messages these past few days (a tip from Rose so as not to give him ‘mixed messages’.)
‘I’m perfectly okay,’ I tell him. ‘Please, come in.’
Upon entering, Wally turns quickly right and left. I’d forgotten the state of the flat would come as a surprise to him. The last time he had been over, it was, of course, furnished. Over the past few days Rose and I have more or less cleared the place out, moving my belongings to Rose’s (the spare room, until the dollhouse is finished). Tomorrow, I will be returning the key to the landlord.
‘I’ve moved into Rose’s house,’ I explain.
Oddly, this doesn’t appear to be news to Wally, even though I hadn’t mentioned anything about moving out of my flat. He looks at me sadly. ‘Are you breaking up with me?’
The words catch me off guard. Breaking up. All of a sudden, it sounds like something teenagers do in the hallway at high school, between classes. (Not teenagers like me. I read books in the hallway at high school, between classes.) It also indicated that he had indeed noticed the lack of x’s in our text messages.
‘I’d like to end our relationship, yes,’ I said.
‘Because of dinner last week?’
‘No.’
‘Then why?’
I look at his too-loose jeans, his black lace-up sneakers and have a sudden recollection of thinking he was homeless. It’s funny, remembering the time you didn’t know someone once you do know them. The first time I had met Janet, I’d thought she was going to be brash and loud. She wore brightly coloured resin jewellery that I had always found went hand in hand with brash, loud people. I’d got that wrong. And I’d got Wally wrong too.
‘Is it because of your sister?’
I tell him it’s not, but his jaw tightens anyway.
‘Can I say something?’ he says. ‘I know you love your sister, but . . .’ He shakes his head, sighs. ‘Something isn’t right about her. It’s like she doesn’t know where she ends and you begin. It’s like she thinks . . . you belong to her or something.’
I frown.
‘And you don’t have great boundaries with her either. You blindly believe things that she tells you. You don’t question anything she says.’
I think about that for a moment.
‘Was it Rose’s idea that we break up?’ he asks.
I cross my arms. Wally raises his eyebrows.
‘Why isn’t that a surprise?’ he says. ‘Fern, if you can tell me one reason you want to break up, then I’ll–’
‘I’ve met someone else,’ I say.
This silences Wally, as it was intended to. For now, I try not to think about the fact that it was Rose’s idea to say this. (‘You can’t let him talk you out of it. As soon as he starts arguing with you, you need to say you’ve met someone else. He can’t argue with that. It will make it clean and fast.’)
‘When?’
‘A few weeks back. You haven’t been around a lot, lately.’ I avoid his gaze.
‘Wow. So . . . it’s serious? You really like the guy?’
(‘It has to sting,’ Rose had said. ‘But it’s a kindness in disguise.’)
‘Yes,’ I say.
Wally’s face looks heartbreakingly sad. ‘I’m sorry. I . . . was caught up in the business. I didn’t make you a priority.’
(‘It will be hard, Fern. You will want to let him talk you out of it. But you can’t. When he gets upset, you need to say nothing at all.’)
This part, at least, is easy because I can’t speak. All my thoughts and feelings have settled in my throat, forming a seal. I wrap my arms around my middle. He takes a step toward me, but then at the last minute changes his mind. ‘Well,’ he
