because of you.'
I stood in front of the surgery, looking out to sea. My mother's words repeated themselves in a loop in my head: that I had ruined her life, ruined her marriage. That she had been happy until I had come along. All these years, I had always held a faint hope that something I did would finally make her proud of me, make me worthy in her eyes. Even after I stopped actively seeking her approval as a young boy, when I realized she would never be the mum that hugged and comforted, would never spend time listening to my childish banter…in the back of my mind, I always thought she would someday have room in her life for me.
The finality of her words ripped away something inside me-that last tiny shred of hope that underneath it all, my mother loved me. Just like that, in the blink of an eye, it was gone. I felt a sickening emptiness and a horrible sense of shame. I knew this was very likely the last time I would see my mother; yet even after hearing the horrible things she said, that knowledge didn't make me feel one ounce of happiness, only the overwhelming urge to vomit.
As I struggled with the emotions that flooded through me, Anna walked out of the surgery to go home for the night. I didn't want anyone to see me this way, so vulnerable and exposed…the very least of all Anna. I mentally pleaded with her to leave me alone and go away quickly. Instead, to my horror, she stood next to me. She actually reached out and touched me on the arm. I flinched as if I had been burned; my entire body felt like one great exposed nerve, raw and excruciating.
'What is it, Anna?' I said impatiently. Please, just go home, I silently pleaded. I didn't look at her…couldn't look at her, or I would surely fall to pieces.
'I know something is bothering you,' she began quietly, and I heard genuine concern in her voice. 'I just…wanted to see if you are okay.'
'I'm fine,' I replied, my teeth clenched so hard my jaw ached.
'Whatever it is, I just…'
'Anna, go home,' I said, my tone a warning.
'All right,' she added, 'but I want you to know that you can talk to me, anytime you need to. You have my cell number. You know, you can trust me, Martin…'
This was too much. I could feel the frustration and anger rising in me, and I turned on her. 'Anna, shut up!' I barked, and stormed back into the surgery. Unfortunately, it wasn't before I saw the hurt expression on Anna's face. I regretted my words as soon as they had left my mouth, but I couldn't stand there any longer without breaking down completely.
I robotically prepared my evening meal and ate without tasting it. The simple act of cooking seemed to clear my head a little, and although I was still hurt and angry and raw, I felt much more in control of my emotions than I had earlier. As I was washing up the dishes after supper, I began to think of Anna and how I had shouted at her. It was unfair of me; she really seemed as if she cared I was upset. She was only trying to help, and I had lashed out at her. I knew I had to apologize…no, I wanted to apologize. There was a difference.
And, as if she knew I had been thinking about her, she was there at my back door, knocking softly. I took a deep breath and opened it, and was shocked when she immediately took two steps toward me and put her arms around me. She slipped them right under my suit jacket, and I could feel her warm skin against the back of my shirt as she embraced me. I stood there like a statue, at once wondering what the bloody hell she was doing and not caring because it felt so lovely.
'Anna?' I said quizzically. She looked up at me. 'What…why are you…' I stammered.
'You had better get used to the hugging, Martin, because I'm going to keep doing it. Whether you like it or not,' she replied fiercely.
'Uh…um, why…?'
'Because you need hugging more than anyone else I have ever met in my entire life, that's why. You are long overdue.' I was at a complete loss for words, and just stood gaping at her. She went on. 'You obviously had a crap day, and I'm sorry. And the offer still stands: if you need someone to talk to, or just want company, I am always available. Believe it or not, I actually like you…you are trying your damnedest to convince me otherwise, but it's not going to work. My mind is made up now. You can trust me, all right?'
I…er…yes, well…'
'But don't you ever tell me to shut up again, Martin Ellingham. That was disrespectful and hurtful. I am not a barking dog,' she finished, looking at me with shining eyes. Were those tears? Oh God, I had made Anna cry. I winced.
'Yes, I wanted to tell you…I'm sorry about that,' I told her, contrite. 'I shouldn't have shouted at you. I apologize.' I am usually rubbish at apologies. I hate admitting I'm wrong, on those limited occasions when I actually am. But saying that to Anna was a relief: I didn't like the thought that I had hurt her, or that she was angry with me.
She broke the embrace and stepped back, and I can't deny that I was sorry. Aside from an occasional hug from Aunty Joan, I was not used to that sort of physical contact—I had never really known anyone that was demonstrative when it came to affection. But Anna's arms around me had felt good…no, not just good. Wonderful. Normal. Like I had found a part of me that had been missing-the final piece of a puzzle that fit perfectly, after other pieces had failed to join up properly. She had told me to get used to the hugging. I found the idea to be something I wouldn't mind getting used to at all.
'It's okay; I'll forgive you this time,' she answered, smiling. 'Sorry…I know it's odd, me coming over here to hug you…and you probably think it's silly; I just know it makes me feel better when I'm having a rotten day.'
I cleared my throat. 'That's…um…that's all right. It's fine.' It was more than fine, but I wouldn't dare tell her that. 'Would you like to come in?'
'I won't bother you; I'm sure you want a little time to yourself, after the week you've had,' she said ruefully. 'I'll see you in the morning.'
I wasn't ready for her to leave yet. 'No, come in…please,' I told her. 'I'd…like you to.' She smiled up at me, and I stepped aside to let her in. I led her into the sitting room where we sat on opposite ends of the sofa. Anna slipped off her sandals and tucked her legs under her. 'Have they gone, then?' she asked. I assumed she was referring to my parents.
'Yes,' I answered with finality.
'Thank God.' She exhaled and sat back against the cushions. 'Martin, I don't mean to be rude, but your parents are just awful.'
I blinked, surprised, then agreed with her. 'Yes. They are, aren't they?'
She looked at me sheepishly. 'I'm sorry. I really tried to like them, but the whole atmosphere while they were here was just…toxic.'
'Well, I know Mum wasn't talking, but Dad usually makes a better impression,' I began. She gave me a wry smile.
'As far as your mother was concerned, I was completely invisible—she didn't say one word to me the entire time she was here,' Anna exclaimed. After a pause, she chuckled. 'Your father, on the other hand…'
The way she said it made my heart sink. 'What did he do?' I asked, even though I had a feeling I already knew. I had watched with increasing dismay as he flirted with her, but that didn't really surprise me—he flirted with every woman he met. Later, however, he made it clear what he thought of Anna.
'My God, Martin, that receptionist of yours is an absolute stunner! If I didn't know you, I would ask if you'd had a go at her yet…but you never were any good with the ladies, were you? You'd have to drug them to keep them,' he told me. 'If I had her around every day, I'd never let her leave the bedroom, I can tell you.'
I looked at him with disgust. 'Yes, and I'm sure Mum would be so pleased to hear it,' I said sarcastically.
'Oh, come on, Martin, I'm only having a bit of fun. Don't be such an old woman.'
Anna brought me out of my reverie. 'When he invited me out for a drink, I thought he was just being polite,' she said, 'but when he grabbed my ass, I had to rethink the situation.' She looked at me with amusement. My mouth dropped open.
'Oh, God…' I muttered. I could feel the anger boiling in me, embarrassed and furious with my father for doing such a thing to her.
'It's all right, Martin; honestly, I may have been offended if he wasn't so pathetic. What made me dislike him the most was the way he spoke to you—the way he berated you and the snarky comments about you being a GP—it just made me sick. Has he always like that?' she asked angrily. 'You don't have to answer that, of course he has. And it's a good thing you are nothing like him, Martin, or I probably would have quit a long time ago.'
I was stunned. It was the first time I could remember someone not being completely enamored and charmed by my father. He was a gifted surgeon, extremely successful in his career. His work colleagues were his friends, and they all enjoyed having a pint together at the pub, where he held court and kept them all laughing and having a good time. All his friends' wives were dazzled by his good looks and charisma.
Somehow, and in very short order, Anna had recognized the man I knew, the man not hidden by the façade he wore for everyone else. She had seen the father that had belittled me since I was a child and bullied me into adulthood. She had actually said he was awful, and pathetic…and that I was nothing like him.
I didn't speak, unsure of what to say. I briefly thought of telling her what my mother had said to me, that horrible speech in the kitchen, but the burning shame of it was still too new. Every time I thought about it, a painful lump formed in my throat that made it difficult to swallow. I didn't want Anna to know that my own mother didn't even love me…how could anyone recover from the shame of those words?
'Well…uh…they are gone now, and not likely to be coming back. Best to just get on,' I gruffly replied. 'I am very sorry, though, for what my father did…it's inexcusable, the way he behaved toward you.'
Anna smiled at me, reaching over to pat my knee. 'It's really okay. I know I'm not very big, but believe me, I can hold my own. My Daddy taught me young how to stand up for myself if the boys started getting too friendly—I put my date to the senior prom in the emergency room,' she said cheerfully. My eyes widened.
Anna stood up from the sofa, and I followed her toward the back door. Before she left, she turned to me one last time, her expression serious. 'I really am sorry you had a bad day, Martin. I'm sorry for the way you were treated by your parents; you didn't deserve any of it. There is so much about you to be proud of,' she told me, her hazel eyes fixed on my own. I felt the lump return to my throat in full force.
Before I could answer, she put her arms around me again, holding me tightly. 'You don't mind, do you? If I hug you? I promise I won't do it in public,' she chuckled.
I cleared my throat. 'Uh…no. No, I don't mind,' I told her, silently relishing in her touch. I hesitated, and then slowly put my arms around her, returning the embrace.