I have a terrible night’s sleep, I try ringing Gabe again at around six thirty but just get the unavailable message, I take a walk on the beach, come home and shower and try Gabe once again to no avail. I know it’s my own fault that he doesn’t want to talk to me, I know I behaved childishly by ignoring his calls, but the only time I can make a stand is when he’s not there in front of me, he was rude to me on the phone, it was totally unnecessary for him to speak to me the way that he did, if he had been here in front of me, he would have apologised and given me one of his looks or smiles and I would have forgiven him, when he’s not in my direct vicinity and pisses me off, I at least stand a chance of getting my point across.
He’s never normally rude or ill mannered, all of the boys are polite, if a little direct but you can tell that they have been well brought up. Stella, not so much but then she’s had three big brothers and no Mum to raise her so she hasn’t really turned out so bad. Just a complete lack of volume control or brain to mouth filter, the boys are also guilty of that though.
I wonder what our children will be like. I wonder what they are. I seriously cannot imagine myself with a little girl, or a big girl for that matter. A daughter, shit; boys I’m fine with, been there, done that, I know where I am but a girl? Dealing with Ava is getting to be a handful and she’s not even mine. I don’t get the final say with her, as much as I care and have an input, she is ultimately Gabe’s daughter. So, if Gabe has a daughter and I am more than happy to share with him, then it would be best all round if our babies are boys, I know that Gabe would love a son, so two sons would be even better right?
By the time I finish my shower my life is decided, we are having twin boys and Ava shall remain the only girl, I won’t need to deal with a teenage daughter when I’m sixty and everyone will be happy. Sorted!
I dress for comfort in yoga pants as I know there will be bending involved and already a lot of my clothes are getting to be a little tight around my waist. I leave it until after nine before pulling up on the drive of my former home, I sit in my car for a few minutes wondering how many times I have done this, loaded the kids in for the school run, unloaded shopping in the rain, rushed to the car with Ryder in my arms, bleeding from the head after he fell from his skateboard. Me screaming at Jay to just drive and Sonny crying that he had killed his brother because he had built the ramp so high. The cut did require seven stitches and a night’s stay in the hospital for poor old Ryde but it certainly never killed him. All of these occurrences, all of these every day events that I assumed would always happen, always be, part of ‘that’ life, shared with ‘that’ family, never, ever did I assume that I would one day move on, for a start I never thought I would be brave enough. Well in the beginning I did, we would fight and I would think to myself. Right that’s it, as soon as the boys get a bit older, I will leave him, for years and years I made excuses for not leaving. Until that night, when he left me with no choice. That night, just under three months ago, where one way of life ended for me and a whole brand new one, that I could never have imagined, was to begin.
I take a deep breath and climb out of my car, I wouldn’t say it’s nerves I’m feeling but I do feel a little uneasy, probably because I know that I’m going behind Gabe’s back and blatantly defying him. Oh well, I want my stuff and if he has his way it will all end up in a skip, which ain’t gonna happen. As soon as I step inside the front door, I know that something’s not right. It’s so hot, the heating must be on full and it smells really musty, unclean. Then I notice the hall table, all of the photos that t are usually displayed on it, are smashed over the floor, I pull out my phone and call Ryder but just get his message bank. “Ryde, I’m at your Dads, is he at work? Can you call me back as soon as you get this, please. Love you.”