Page 8 of Did My Love Life Shrink in the Wash?
‘A bloke I went to college with is angry about dairy farming, funny meme about Trump, promo, things for sale, Lucy posting selfies and wow, remember that girl I went to school with… Karina? She’s having twins – man, that’s four kids under five. How does she look so shiny?’
I show Will their family picture. There’s a strong theme to her portraiture. She likes a sunset and everyone is wearing white linen. I compare it to a photo Will and I have on our bookshelf that’s a selfie of us in Ibiza. Will’s mouth is open so wide you can see his tonsils.
Will stares at the picture for a moment. It’s so far from our reality and I can’t even mock it because I’m so tired.
‘Don’t ever make me pose for a picture like that.’
‘I see you in white linen. Backstreet Boy style.’
He chuckles. ‘I’d look like a cult leader. Look at her husband. What is he? Finance, I bet.’
‘Hedge fund manager.’
Will has a pained look to his face. It always intrigues him how other people get and keep their money. We try. We save and scrimp but have never been quite able to amass the millions that I suspect Will thinks we should have in our bank accounts now we’re both thirty.
‘Move on,’ Will says.
Joe’s gaze turns to both of us like he’s disappointed in the quality of the conversation. I’m not sure what he wants here. It’s nearly daybreak. He’s not going to get highbrow and interesting with us at this hour. I study his face. He’s all Will, with my eyes. In his moments of cuteness, Ithinkwe get each other.I am your mother. You are Joe, my child.But that still feels like a strange thing to say out loud.
‘Have we tried any music yet? Some sort of sound bath, meditative shit that could help Joe nod off?’ Will asks.
‘I’ve tried whale music. He wasn’t sure about that.’
‘What about some nineties chill out? Morcheeba? Air? Groove Armada? Something with a melody at least.’
I scroll through my phone. Deciding on Groove Armada’s ‘At the River’. A soft beat lulls out of my phone. This was the song that Will and I used to get stoned to. Joe looks at us strangely.These are not nursery rhymes.
‘Are his eyes going?’ I ask.
‘I think he’s just studying the beat.’
We sing along in time and he watches us like the saddos we are. We know a lot of lyrics. If nothing, kid, that is our special superpower that we hope to bequeath to you. I mean we don’t harmonise but we know exactly when a bass will drop and all the extra ad libs. Will goes as far as to mimic a trumpet. The song ends and then another suddenly comes up – ‘I See You Baby’. Joe smiles. He likes this one despite the borderline inappropriate lyrics about ass shaking. Will and I resent having to move that bit quicker. But is it working? He suddenly nestles into his dad’s chest. Will’s eyes widen, and he urges me to recline slowly with him onto the sofa. We still continue to mumble the lyrics, laughing that our baby would think this a lullaby. I turn my phone to a different angle and take a picture of the three of us, to capture this moment where, for once, it all seems worth it, it all makes sense. I inspect the photo. Thank God for Joe because Will and I are seriously letting the side down. I am half blinking and Will has a big sleepy grin on him.
‘I like that one,’ he says. ‘I look like I’m about to eat him.’
I laugh in my delirium. ‘Nope, delete. I look drunk.’
‘I wish. Maybe we should put him down,’ Will whispers. We both sink into the sofa.
‘Ssssshhh, just hold your position,’ I say.
‘I love this song.’
‘New favourite.’
‘I think he smells of wee.’
‘That might be me.’
‘I love you.’
‘Yeah.’
Track Two
‘Taper Jean Girl’ – Kings of Leon (2004)
XS
