Page 106 of The Other Brother
“Can you deliver this to Frank and Heather?” she asks me as I wander into the kitchen and she’s just finished making a tuna noodle casserole.
I shake my head. “No. I’m not going there anymore.”
“Oh,” she pulls up. “Have things… changed between you?”
“Yeah. With his mum and stuff…” I trail off.
“It’s probably for the best,” Mum says.
I turn away so she can’t see my face. How can the way I’m feeling right now be for the best? How?
Mum gets Kate to deliver the casserole instead.
Over the next few weeks,I respect what Cody wants. I don’t contact him.
There’s this giant void in my life that nothing can fill. I try my hardest. I hang out with my friends. I study. I go surfing as much as I can, even though the weather has definitely turned to autumn and both the water and the air have a chill I can’t escape from.
“So, this thing with you and Cody. It’s over now?” Mel asks one night when she’s over for dinner and we’re doing the dishes together.
I shrug as I scrub at some baked cheese on a dish. I have no idea if Cody and I are completely over or if this is just a break. It’s up to him. It has nothing to do with me.
All I know is that I feel like my insides have been ground up and pummeled.
I get that he can’t handle his father’s disapproval at the moment. I get that he needs to focus on his mum, that he doesn’t want to do anything to upset her. I get all that.
When I think about Cody—which is first thing every morning, last thing every night, and multiple times during the day—it feels like I’m out surfing in waves that are far too big for me and I’ve tumbled off my board. I’m trying to claw my way to the surface, but I only manage to get small mouthfuls of air before I’m sucked underwater again.
Kate goesinto labor one Saturday morning, which sends Mum into a frenzy. Although it turns out that babies don’t come that fast. We hang out at home all afternoon and evening, waiting.
Chris provides hourly updates. Things are progressing, but slowly.
Mum calls him around ten, but I catch a few snatches of words like cervix and dilation and decide I don’t need to know exact details.
When I wake up the next morning, there’s still no baby.
My phone finally beeps with a message from Chris around Sunday lunchtime.
It’s a boy!
I run down the stairs, but for once Mum has been monitoring her phone because she’s standing in the living room, already crying.
Dad comes in from the garden, holding his phone.
“Congrats, Grandma.” He wraps her in a hug.
“So, are we going to go meet this kid or what?” I ask after the hugging extends way too long.
Mum takes a deep breath. “Let’s go.”
On the way to the hospital, the idea that I might be about to see Cody for the first time in two weeks sinks in. Anticipation and dread start a battle for control of my throat. The mixture is boiling up inside me when we reach Kate’s room.
Is he inside? Am I about to come face to face with Cody? How will he react? How will Frank react when he sees me?
But when we go in, the room is empty besides Kate and Chris.
Oh yeah, and a baby.
I don’t know if I’m relieved or disappointed. I don’t appear to be capable of straightforward emotions anymore.
