Inspired by 'When the Right One Comes Along' by Clare Bowen
Propping the washing basket against her hip, she looked into the lounge, holding back a sigh. She should have seen this coming. Really, it had been blindingly obvious, what with the shy looks and sweet smiles. Those late night murmurs over the phone or the uproarious laughter during a Skype session had been warning enough. But seeing him like this now, it was really cementing just how hard he had fallen.
Her head was nestled comfortably against the top of his, arms wrapped loosely around his shoulders as he leaned back against her, breathing in sync as they rested. Music sheets lay scatter across the blanket in his lap, her treasured book propped gently between her knee and the back of the couch. From here she could see they had been adjusting the arrangement, red marker scribbled over hands and faces just as much as the paper. Making a mental note to kill either of them if any was on the couch itself, she puzzled over what to do. Part of her- the part that longed for romance of any form- was screaming in delight, but her reasonable side was having trouble adjusting.
She knew they were in a relationship (God help those that didn't), she knew that they were serious about each other, but upon seeing this, she couldn't help but to wonder if it was 'too' serious already. They were young; not even out of college yet, but looking as comfortable as she was with her husband of twenty odd years. Sure they had tackled obstacles larger than life over the last four years, had their fair share of heartbreaks and struggles with friendships and partnerships, but she wasn't sure if she could support them at the rate they were going. What if they decided to move in together after graduation? What if they just continued to tour or moved to some far off college? What if they married?
One of them murmured something lazily, causing the other to invoke a languid hum, red marker twirling between entwining fingers. She nuzzled the crown on his head, planting a light kiss in her wake. Craning his neck slightly, he smiled dozily up at her in response. The affection laced within that look was mirrored back at him, fingers from her spare hand drawing slowly across his chest.
The bitch slap of reality made her turn away quickly, trying to not to invade any longer. Gripping the basket tighter, she hurried down the hall, emotions brewing. Those simple gestures of love she had seen had eerily echoed those she had once bestowed upon him as a child. But now the love was different. It was transcending, more complicated, and filled with such emotion. She was being replaced. He had another woman in his life now, and he would never need her again.
Panicking she dropped the washing and ran for the stairs, throwing herself at the wall of pictures lining them. This is all she had now. Her little boy was no longer the one sitting just down the passage, no, he was encased in these fragile memories. The little blond boy who played in the mud and ate worms. The little blond boy who begged for drum lessons from the time he was tall enough to reach the kick pedal. The little boy who was too shy to start school and held her hand for the whole day. That little boy knew her as his only love.
Stroking his smiling face, she found herself longing for the days when her life brightened at the sight of his gap toothed smile. When she was the one he rushed to when school finished, or called for in the middle of the night. Taking down the picture with shaking hands, she continued up the stairs, through the years until she reached one of them. Taking it off the hook as well, she sank onto the step, knees pulled up closely as she gazed at the pictures. When had he grown up? The slightly chubby toddler with the infectious grin, when had he been replaced by the handsome man? Cradling them to her chest, she hung her head, feeling the mighty weight of age fallen upon her. This was proving too hard for her to handle.
She must have sat there for hours, brewing in her own extensional misery, for it wasn't until he bounded up the stairs in a panic to reach her did she awake from her stupor.
"Mum, are you okay? Why are you crying? Mum, what's wrong?"
He was worried, hands resting on her slight shoulders as he shook her lightly, trying to get her to talk. She could see her behind him, standing a few steps down, chewing anxiously on her knuckle, wondering if she should help. The picture frames were starting to ebbed themselves into her arms and hands, and she could feel the cold trail of her tears across her face. And he was worried. Gosh, a mother should never let her child worry.
"Sorry Austin, I'm fine. Just got caught…with life and memories." She sniffed, scrubbing a hand across her eyes and nose before attempting to smile up at him. She could tell he wasn't convinced as he sunk lower on the step, trying to look her squarely in the eye. Geez, when did he grow to be so tall? Or did she shrink?
"Mum, you're shivering. How long have you been sitting here?"
"Here Mrs Moon, take this." She handed the jacket she had been holding to him, for him to sling it around her shoulders. Drawing it close it around her neck, he continued to look for an explanation in her gaze, but she couldn't offer one, not one that he would understand.
"Thank you Ally, Austin, but I'm fine kids, really. I was just doing some cleaning when I got distracted by the pictures. I guess I hadn't realised just how much time had flown." She chuckled wearily, causing a subtle glance of worry between the teens. Seeing his jacket and her scarf, she realised that they must have been heading out.
"Oh, I'm sorry, were you two going somewhere?"
"Um, just for a walk. Ally wanted to see the autumn colours and we needed a breath of fresh air. But if you're not feeling well, we can stay-"
"No, no, go out. Don't let me hold you two up. Enjoy the weather while it lasts."
"Are you sure?"
Smiling, she stood up stiffly, wincing internally at the creaking of her bones. "Go. I'll start dinner while you're out. Ally, I presume you're staying for dinner?"
"Ah, y-yes, if it's not a bother for you."
"Nonsense. Here, take your jacket dear, it's meant to cool down quickly."
After a lot of reassuring and helping them bundle up, she watched them walk slowly down the path to the street, casting lingering looks back at her as they went. She continued to smile and wave, watching until their figures were blurs amongst the treeline. Lowering her hand, she looked at the pictures still in her hold, pondering everything. Slowly walking back through the house, she thought of just before. Maybe he still needed her. She knew that she was needing him more and more every day, and it was bittersweet that he turned to his father for advice these days, but he was still her little boy. There were things that only she could teach him or advise him about. And she really did love Ally. What they had, that was special.
Sighing she placed the pictures on top of the abandon washing, picking up the basket again. Heading back towards the hallway, she paused outside the lounge, taking in the empty couch. The discarded blanket was now neatly folded upon the settee, the music notes and lyric book placed gently upon it. Yet another influence from her. A couple of years ago she'd have to walk through here without trying to trip. Another glance lead her to spotting that the red marker had rolled off the pile and under the sofa. Crossing the room, she crouched down, placing the basket beside her before reaching for the pen. Once in her grasp she leant against the couch, looking at it blankly. It was nearly empty, though she knew it had been brand new earlier that day. Curious as to what they had been working on, she set it aside before reaching for the music sheets, trying to decipher the scrawl.
There's no music, no confetti
Crowds don't cheer, and bells don't ring
Her hands were shaking. Mouthing the rest of the song to herself, she felt a new batch of tears brew up. She knew these words. Well some of them. This was that transcendence. Advice she had given him over the years, paired with the love story everyone eventually shares and experiences. Hers with Mike, his with Ally. It was all there, scribbled across the page. Sniffling, she noticed that the red marker notes were them trying to figure out the final touches to the song. They couldn't seem to key who was singing. It was obviously meant for Ally to sing, but the tone wasn't right. Grabbing the pen from Ally's book, she clicked it open and mumbled over the words again.
Later that evening, as she cozied up to Mike on the same couch, she was surprised when a two more pairs of arms wrapped around her.
"Thanks Mum, the lyrics are perfect." He whispered as Ally smiled at her heart warmingly.
"Thank you so much Mrs Moon."
"It was nothing dears. Now go finish your song." With one last squeeze they left her again, her husband looking down at her with an eyebrow raised.
"What was that about?"
Smiling to herself, she sunk further into his embrace, content for the first time all day. "Nothing. Just passing on a little piece of advice."
There's no music, no confetti
Crowds don't cheer, and bells don't ring
But you'll know it, I can guarantee
When the right one comes along
