When Gillian got home the house seemed eerily quiet. She headed for the kitchen and heard the buzz of the extractor fan. Cal was at the stove replacing the lid on a pot of something. She smiled as she came through the door, still not over the buzz of seeing him doing something so normal in their home, like he should be doing, if life hadn't been suddenly interrupted. "Hey," she announced her presence.
Cal jumped. "Geeze," he breathed.
"Sorry," Gillian put her purse down on the corner of the breakfast bar along with her keys. "Didn't mean to startle you." She looked around quickly, a little flare of dread, then concern. "Where's Lewis?"
"Upstairs." Cal approached where she stood.
"You didn't have to start dinner," she gave him a pleased expression.
"Just put potatoes on and made a salad," Cal shrugged.
Gillian made to push around him but Cal didn't step out of her way so she bumped by him awkwardly. He turned with her. "Who's Lily?"
Gillian stopped still her heart beating cold for a second. She turned to him. His face was set in determination and she supposed he had every right... "How did you?"
"The book," Cal gestured over his shoulder towards the formal living room.
Gillian nodded. That was fair right? It wasn't really snooping around when it was his own home. When those books belonged to him as well.
"She's ours?" Cal queried.
Gillian nodded again. Stepped towards him slightly. "I'll tell you," she offered. "All about it. But, it's late and I need to feed Lewis." Funny how Lewis was 'hers' in particular when there were responsibilities to take care of. "Can we talk after dinner?"
Cal eyed her neutrally. She got closer, reaching out her hands to put over his crossed arms. "I promise. We can talk. I'll tell you about her. The whole story. Just... can we do it after we eat?"
"Promise?"
"Yes," Gillian nodded sincerely. "I promise."
Cal gave a slight nod. He gestured to the stove. "Didn't know what else to make."
Gillian turned away from him and went to the cupboard. Her hands were shaking slightly, she noticed, as she reached to open the deep pantry next to the fridge. She was distracted while she searched for something she could put together in fifteen minutes. She could feel Cal's gaze on her back and even after she had stood there for a while thinking she realised neither of them had moved. She suddenly doubted the wisdom of every decision she had made in the last three months. She was doubting herself by the time she felt Cal's arms embrace her from behind. She was surprised by the gesture, by its rarity in the last few months and by the compassion he was clearly showing. Sure, he hugged her often in the past, even when they weren't married, but considering he had just discovered a rather large secret she had been purposefully keeping from him (and they both knew she had), he was being particularly gracious. Considering.
"Was she ours?" Cal murmured against the back of her head.
Gillian knew what he meant. The book was not that of a niece, or a cousin, but their daughter. She nodded. Then shook her head. "Adopted."
"What happened to her?"
"She died," Gillian stumbled. She felt Cal's arms tighten inadvertently. It was hard to breathe, and not because of his arms around her torso. The pantry smelt like cinnamon. Lewis had knocked the container off the shelf and she couldn't get the smell out no matter how thoroughly she had cleaned down those shelves, the wall, and the floor.
"I'm sorry," Cal told her in a quiet tone of voice. Soft. Gentle.
"Me too," Gillian whispered back.
PJ
Dinner bordered on awkward. Gillian tried too hard to be pleasant and jovial for Lewis's sake (who was extremely happy to see his mother home, which made her worry even more), showing interest in his day (he was building something with a hammer and nails at day care and after they got home, Cal had made him a snack and later they had played with his cars in his room) and Cal, who was clearly conscious of the huge tension in the room, forced himself into small talk. It was weird. Gillian hoped Lewis wouldn't notice. He had enough problems of his own without feeding on yet more strained atmosphere (the daily accidents had ceased but there was still the occasional need for a change of sheets in the morning). And yet sometimes he was unnervingly perceptive. He helped stack the plates and knives and forks into the dishwasher, while Cal did the heavier pans and Gillian went up to change. When she came back she sent Lewis away to play (twisting her hands at the wrist) because she and Dad (hand by the forehead) needed to talk (index finger twirled around by the mouth); Lewis dutifully obliged.
Gillian headed for the formal living room, Cal in tow, taking in the mess of photo albums over the couch and table. She took a seat and pulled Cal to sit down next to her. She didn't feel dread, or nerves, but not resignation either. She knew the conversation had to be had, and that eventually it was going to, but perhaps she hadn't countered on it being sprung on her now. Not that she'd given any thought as to how she was going to lead into it. She supposed now was as good a time as any.
Cal faced her on the middle seat of the couch, expectant but waiting patiently. Gillian wondered where she should start. The story went back so far. Everything in their marriage had been tied up with and culminated in Lily, in some way or another.
"When?" Cal asked quietly.
"A few years ago," Gillian admitted, grateful that he had started. And then she stalled again. Now what?
"How did she die?"
"In her sleep," Gillian responded glumly. It still hurt.
"Are we gonna play twenty questions?"
Gillian shook her head, looked up at him from her hands. "No. Sorry. I should have told you about it sooner but I just..." She shook her head, gathered her thoughts. "I got a phone call. From the agency Alec and I were registered with. There was some sort of clerical error that meant we were still on their books." Her voice shook slightly and so she paused to gather together some strength. "A young woman had seen the profile. She wanted to meet me. Us," she corrected quickly. "You and me. I called them to tell them I wasn't with Alec any more but with you." She raised her eyebrows in emphasis. Cal sat still. "She wanted to meet us anyway." Gillian gave a slight sigh.
"And I knew you didn't want to do it," she blurted out. "I know you only did it for me because it was my dream. Because it was something I wanted." Cal's expression didn't waiver so she kept on, getting back to the narrative. "I wanted more kids. We both wanted more and this was just, she was an opportunity I couldn't give up. I couldn't just ignore it when it was basically falling in my lap. We met the birth mother and she was just so mature and made her decision consciously and it just all seemed so perfect, you know?"
Cal watched her impassively.
"I thought it was meant to be but I knew you were struggling with the idea of adoption so I just pushed through it. It's a complicated subject and it carries so much baggage for me and I know you did it for me." Her voice got more emotional as she talked but she didn't break into tears. She couldn't even feel them nearby.
"We couldn't have more kids ourselves?"
Gillian shook her head. "The IVF was so hard. It was just..." she paused again, searched the room for the right words. "So hard," she repeated. "We did two cycles and they just about broke me." She felt a little ashamed at her weakness. "The second time we thought the IVF hadn't even worked. The fact that I was pregnant with Lewis was just..." she realised she was getting off track. "We couldn't do it again. We decided not to. It was just too much."
Cal nodded. "How old was she?" He didn't have to finish the sentence or mention a name.
"Three months."
Cal's face managed to soften even though it was already slack.
"I knew, as soon as I woke up. It was too quiet. She cried all the time and when I woke up and it was too quite I just knew. I knew there was something wrong," Gillian rambled. "I picked her up and she was cold and I just knew. She was gone." She didn't cry and she was amazed. She hadn't been this calm talking about the subject of Lily's death until now. "All of it felt for nothing. It felt like I was being punished."
"Hey," Cal interjected softly. "I'm sure afta what happened with Sophie it might feel like that."
"It really did," Gillian told him honestly. "I felt cheated. Like I had gone through all of that. We had gone through all of that. And she was just..." Again, the corner of the roof seemed the safest place for her gaze to land. "So small."
There was a heavy silence.
"And I had put you through all of that," Gillian pressed on, because she needed to tell him about other things and it was all related. All of it. "After everything." Her gaze flickered back over to him. "I did something stupid." He stared at her, stilling again so she plunged on. "Before that, when we were finding out about Lewis's hearing loss there were symptoms and I was so sure... I thought I was pregnant again." She gave a little wince. "But no." She looked down at her lap. "And I was devastated Cal. Really devastated." He watched her carefully, she could sense it even though she wasn't looking directly at him. "And with Lewis it was just all so much. And so I left." She couldn't look at him. He didn't move, she could see that out of the corner of her eyes, but she thought she heard an intake of breath. A sharp one. Shock. "I shouldn't have done it. I'm so not proud of running away. But after everything with Sophie and the IVF and then finding out there might be something wrong with Lewis and I felt like that was my fault and on top of that the miscarriage and then finding out there wasn't any chance of having more kids." She trailed off and dared to look up at him. His expression was in that slightly soft phase again but he still didn't move or say anything and normally she would be completely unnerved by that but somehow it made it easier. He wasn't reacting. He wasn't trying to make her feel better, nor was he subtly giving out vibes of anger or distaste. He was just listening. Letting her talk. Letting her ramble on and not make sense.
"How long did you go for?" Cal asked quietly, letting her know he was still engaged in the conversation.
"Just a few days. As soon as I'd gone I regretted it. I just needed space to deal. Or I thought I needed space. To put things back into perspective. I needed that. But running away was wrong. Especially when Lewis needed me."
Did it strike Cal too that she could be talking about their current situation, him? She understood why he needed to go. She had been there herself. And now, she hoped, he would understand why she was willing to be so empathetic. She wasn't going to punish him for needing some time and space. But she had made a valid point: Lewis needed her. And Lewis needed his father too. And normally, her quick witted husband would pick up on that immediately. But perhaps he needed her to be more obvious with it now. She was starting to see; she was starting to figures things out too. About how they were going to be now. But sooner or later, they were going to have a conversation about Lewis; especially if she didn't see things start to change. Well they were changing, he had made some effort today.
"Where?" He pressed. Maybe he had missed it.
"New York?" Gillian said it like it was a question. Or perhaps she was asking him if he'd heard of the city. Or worse, if he remembered it. "My friend Casey moved there and I went to stay with her for just a few days." When he didn't say anything she continued. "I just felt so cheated by this whole kid's thing. Everything with Alec. And then getting pregnant to you. I didn't even know. And I lost the baby. I didn't even realise. At the time. And that started it all off. All of it. It's me."
She still wasn't crying. She wasn't really even making sense either but Cal didn't seem confused (surely he must be). He seemed to be listening. She was aware of her heart pounding, the only indication that she was emotionally invested in this conversation herself. Laid out like that... it was all so much. And she was right though, all of it had been her fault. The miscarriage had lead to the IVF. The IVF led to Lewis. His complicated birth was also her fault. And if she just hadn't pushed to have a baby of her own then Lewis wouldn't have been hurt. She wouldn't have hurt Cal by running to New York. And if she hadn't done that, then Lily's adoption would not have been such a big deal and Cal wouldn't have got sick. And even if he had, she would have been there for him. Like she should have been.
"Gill," Cal said but nothing more.
"I wasn't there for you," she went on. "When you were sick. We were in the middle of the adoption and you were sick. It was like you weren't even sick. There was no hormone therapy, no chemo. You had surgery one day and it was over the next and you came home. And I was so worried about the baby and myself, not getting lost in the adoption, that I did. I let you down."
Cal's hand finally came across to her lap and he slid his fingers within her grasp, forcing his way, so she was hanging on to him like a baby gripping their father's much bigger index finger.
"And I let Lewis down because the hearing loss is also my fault and when he needed me the most, he was just a little boy, I bailed on him when I should have been there. During his birth, my blood pressure dropped and his umbilical cord collapsed and he didn't get enough air. That was me." Gillian stopped. Took a steadying breath. She wasn't sure this conversation (if she could call it that) was comprehensible. It barely bordered on logical and she wondered if Cal could follow the whole tirade. Everything had come out in a rush of barely coherent thoughts but she had said it. All of it. That was all of it right? That was the truth of it. Of them. That was everything? Had she missed anything out? Was it ironic that she couldn't remember?
"Geeze Gill," Cal sighed himself. "You weren't kiddin'." He paused, his blue eyes steady on hers, no signs of judgement or anger. A hint of careful pain if anything. "We have been through a lot."
