40 Something - Safety Read online

  “Or a band.” I say.

  “So, what do you two think of all this?” Gwen asks.

  We go over our opinions of the lavish event as others join us. The consensus is that it sets the bar high, but the kids love it and Kathleen enjoys doing it. It’s all good. Yeah until our kid’s next birthday party and they want a big production too.

  Kathleen’s husband has led the little pirates on the scavenger hunt around the neighbourhood to find clue after clue, hidden in the parks, neighbours yards, and even the local convenience store for a slushie in special take home pirate cups.

  “Hey ladies can you give me a hand?” Kathleen asks.

  “Sure.” We all say together.

  While the kids are out scavenging, we take all the gifts and hid them in the backyard play structure. We then use fabric to transform the structure into a pirate ship and hoist the pirate flag.

  When the kid’s get back they have a second treasure hunt to find out what Blackbeard did with the presents. They have to go through an obstacle course in the backyard, play a game of throw the cannon ball (water balloons), buy swords with the items found in the scavenger hunt and then have a sword fight with the adults to defeat Blackbeard, (the kid’s dad in costume) in order to get the presents back.

  By the end I was exhausted from all the noise, talking, and kids hyped up on candy treasure, flavoured gelatine, and ice cream cake. Harper had so much fun it was all he talked about for months. He begged me for something just as cool as Jack's birthday party. He got laser tag.

  This year the theme for Jack’s party is Video Games. No costumes. Thank God. I guess the boys are getting too big for that. There are going to be multiple video game tournaments with lots of prizes. That's what Harper tells me. They even rented some big screen and two or three big screen TVs so multiple games can be going on. It's enough to make my head hurt thinking about it. How much noise can 4 video game systems make? Maybe I should buy some earplugs.

  Sophie

  Craig went away for a business trip.

  It’s heaven when he goes away, so peaceful. It’s like we live in a different house. A calm house filled with laughter and fun.

  When he’s home the kids and I are always trying not to upset him. Trying hard to do everything we are supposed to do. Keep the house clean, put the toys away, make sure dinner is prepared and ready for him. We watch the clock and hold our breath waiting to see what mood he’ll be in.

  Sometimes he’s in a good mood and the evening is filled with laughter. Craig can be quite funny when he’s in a good mood. He does these voices with all these different accents and the kids giggle and laugh. They all have the same sense of humour.

  I watch.

  Sometimes I laugh and whenever I do. Craig makes a big deal of it and makes a note on the calendar, made Sophie laugh. There aren’t many days on the calendar that say that. I’m always waiting, watching, to see if his mood will change. I am on guard and tense. Not the best way to be if one is to enjoy a comedy act at the dinner table.

  On these days I clean up dinner while the kids and him find something to watch on TV and it’s always something I don’t want the kids to watch. It’s inappropriate comedy for their ages. Just because something is drawn in cartoon form does not make it a kids show.

  When I feel safe enough and we are fighting I let him know what I think about his choices. About his always being busy on one project or another. About him never being part of the family. Those fights always end with me in tears and him breaking something from another temper tantrum.

  These fights used to be common, until my son witnessed one. I think he was 3. He’d just stood there with tears on his little chubby face and I felt like such a terrible mother. I thought for sure I had damaged him. After that, I stopped fighting back when Craig attacked. Now I only fight back if I feel backed into a corner and have to protect my children from his outbursts. I don’t mind it when he directs his temper at me, but when he goes after my kids. I fight back, hard.

  We had one of those fights the night before he left for his business trip.

  Wyatt was just being a boy and wanted to build a fort or something. He’d gone into the garage and borrowed a hammer, some nails, and some boards from his dad. I was busy in the house, cleaning, organizing, and washing Olivia’s long thick hair, a job that can take a good hour to wash, condition, dry, and brush out.

  I wasn’t paying attention to what Wyatt was doing.

  After I was done with Olivia’s hair, I started dinner. That’s when I heard the yelling coming from the backyard and raced outside.

  “What the fuck Wyatt? You didn’t ask.” Craig was mad and in full out tantrum mode. “You idiot look what you did to the side of the house. What the fuck. Now I have to fix the siding. You stupid little shit.”

  That’s when I walked around the corner to the side of the house where Wyatt had nailed some boards to a wall that juts out from the house. Inside it holds a built in cabinet that is flush with the rest of the wall, outside it sticks out. I guess Wyatt thought it would be a good place to build his fort.

  “Craig.”

  “And where the fuck were you Soph? You’re supposed to be watching him.”

  “I was. I can’t watch him every second. He’s 8 years old.”

  “Busy with what? Sitting on your fat ass eating and watching soaps and exposing the kids to smut?”

  “I don’t watch TV. You’re the one who lets them watch smut with those cartoons.”

  It goes back and forth like this. Then I remember Wyatt is there because he moves.

  “Wyatt get back in the house and clean your room.” I scream at him. His eyes go wide and he bolts for the house.

  “He needs to clean this up first.”

  “I’ll clean this up.”

  I move toward the board that is somewhat connected to the house.

  “No, you’ll just make a bigger mess of it and then I’ll have more to fix. I’ll do it. It has to be fixed before I go. Fuck Soph I didn’t need this bullshit. Why the fuck can’t you just do what you’re supposed to do. I have to do everything. I work hard for my money and you spend it like it’s water.”

  “I don’t spend all your money. I buy groceries and some stuff for the kids, that’s it. Nothing that we don’t need.”

  He buys whatever he wants, whenever he wants. The house and garage are filled with his tools, toys, and collectables.

  “It’s my money. You don’t contribute anything. You’re worthless Soph. A drain on my bank account.”

  I’ve heard this numerous times. I turn to leave him and get back to the dinner that I started. He grabs my arm pulling me back to face him.

  “You fucking bitch, how dare you walk away from me I’m not finished talking to you.”

  I stand there empty. Not feeling. Numb. Not thinking. Not feeling. Nothing. Just an empty shell because I’m not really here. It’s like there’s an invisible wall between us muffling his voice. I listen as he goes on about how I can’t clean the house good enough, how I don’t take care of the kids right, how I cause him more work and do nothing to make his life easier. I wait until his temper has subsided and he’s sane again. Sane enough to let me go back in the house where dinner is probably burning.

  “Mommy.”

  Wyatt comes into the kitchen. He’s been crying. It’s my fault he’s crying. I yelled at him in a state of stress. The poor boy, I lead him to the reading chair and he sits in my lap. We cuddle and I kiss the top of his head. My poor, poor boy, you deserve better.

  “Mommy. Can you divorce daddy? Please?”

  My heart breaks. If only I could. I have no way of leaving. I have no way of taking care of the kids if I do. Craig won’t leave. He’d never leave his house. Even if he did I can’t pay for it. I don’t have a job. I can’t get a job, what would I do with the kids? We have a good life for the most part. We live in a nice house. We have food. We have what we need here. Out there? Fear grabs me and holds on tight. I can’t leave, I have no way of sur
viving if I left. I’d be alone. Broke.

  “Oh honey. I wish. But I can’t afford to. We’d be poor. We’d have nothing and I can’t.”

  I break off. I’m too scared to leave. Too scared of poverty. Too scared of being alone in this world. That’s why I married Craig in the first place. Fear of poverty. Fear of being alone. Fear of never finding love. Fear that he was all I deserved.

  Rose

  Drums.

  We have the piano that the girls learned to play on. We have the violin that Alexis played for a year. We have the electric guitar that Isabella played for 4 months, if I’m lucky. We even have the flute that Jessica played in school band for a couple of years. That is four instruments that are collecting dust in our house and will the boy play any of these? No. Of course not. Aiden wants to play the drums. I still don’t know where we’ll put them.

  I don’t want them in the living room or family room where he will bother me. The basement is dark and dirty. If we put them down there the boy will never play them. I’m not sure how or if they will even fit in his room.

  Drums.

  It’s always something.

  We’ll buy the drums, he’ll play them for a period of time and then I’ll be tripping over them or stuffing them into the basement with everything else the kids have out grown and forgotten about.

  Alexis begged me for months to get her violin lessons because she was bored of the piano. I finally relented and it was a painful audio experience for the rest of the family, until she finally mastered the angle of the bow against the strings. At least she completed a year of lessons and can play the instrument, if she wants to take it up again.

  Isabella, on the other hand was a complete waste of money. She couldn’t just get a cheap electric guitar and amp. No, she needed the most expensive one she could find because her and her friends were forming a rock band. That lasted for 4 months before there were creative differences and the band fell apart. I was hoping Jessica or Aiden would want to play it, but neither seemed all that fussed about guitar.

  In grade 7 and 8 Jessica played the flute in the school band until she found art and computers as electives and the flute was put aside. I can understand why Aiden wouldn’t want to play the flute, and maybe the violin, but come on, isn’t the electric guitar cool?

  “Mom, mom, come look at this set.”

  I let Aiden lead me to the drum section in the store.

  “What about these electric ones Aiden. You can play them with earphones.” I pull away from him to take a look and gag on the price tag, $2 999.99. That’s a lot more than I want to spend. I guess this isn’t an option. Though, it would be quieter.

  “I don’t want an electric one. I want this one over here.”

  “A thousand dollars? I was thinking more like a couple hundred.”

  “Moooom. This is the best one. It comes with everything and I need to rock. Pleeeease mooom.”

  I know I should say no. The most we spent on the girls’ instruments was $600 and that was the electric guitar and amp. The other girls were at most $300. The salesman shows Aiden a few things and his face lights up as he tries to hit the drums the same way.

  “What do you think mom?” The salesman asks me.

  “Do you have any cheaper options?”

  “Well we have this starter kit here that’s $200”

  “What about this one Aiden?”

  “It doesn’t have all the drums and stuff and its’ small.”

  “Does he need all the drums? He’s just starting out.”

  “No. This set is good for beginners.”

  “You hear that Aiden? This is the set for beginners, that’s you.”

  “Moooom. I’ll catch on really fast. This one has the snare drum and the floor Tom. That one’s for little kids. Gerry would laugh at me if I played that one.”

  Laughed at. Would he get laughed at? I’d hate for that to happen. I want him to have the best option available, but a thousand dollars? I look at the cheaper set a bit closer. It is a lot smaller. It looks cheaply manufactured. It’s probably a Chinese model.

  “Aiden can you just sit here so I can see.”

  “Do I have to?”

  “Yes, you have to.”

  He sits at the drum set and he does look too big for it. He hasn’t even hit his growing spurts yet. I take a deep breath. I want him to have lessons and a decent instrument to play. I always wanted to know how to play and instrument growing up, however, my parents couldn’t afford it. We can’t really afford it either with all the other activities, still, it is important that they get to do everything that they want to. It’s up to us to make sure they get the best start in life, all the chances we never got, and that includes drum lessons with a decent kit.

  “Yeah. That one won’t work.” I say.

  My phone rings and I excuse myself.

  “Hello.”

  “Hey Hun. How are things?”

  “Well. I’m at the music store with Aiden.”

  “Yeah? Did you find a drum set?”

  “Found a few, thing is we can’t agree. He wants a $1,000 set.”

  “Ha. Good Luck. So, what are you doing after that?”

  “He’s got Football and then home.”

  “Any chance you can do me a solid?”

  Right then Aiden starts banging on the expensive drum kit.

  “What? I can’t hear you, just a minute.” I move away from the drums. “OK now what did you say?”

  “I need a favour. I have a client who says he has a cheque to pay what’s outstanding. I’m busy here on a job site and this guy’s been a pain about paying last payment. Can you run out and get it?”

  “Where?”

  He gives me the address and it’s in the next town over, it’ll take me 45 minutes just to get there, too far to go while Aiden is at football practice.

  “Hun. The guy might bail again, if I don’t get the cheque cashed right away.”

  “OK. I’ll go get it. How much is it?”

  “Five grand. Deposit it into the bank account right away.”

  There goes my afternoon and I still have to get a drum kit. I look around some more trying to find other options.

  “What about this one Aiden? It’s nice. It has everything and is only $500”

  “I want the other one.”

  “Look Aiden. It’s this one or the beginner one. That’s it. Unless you have $500.”

  “I do.”

  “No you don’t.”

  “In the bank account grandma has for me.”

  “Nice try. That’s for University. Now which drum set do you want?”

  He sits down at the $500 set. It is the right size for him.

  “It doesn’t have the high hat cymbals”

  “Do you sell those separately?”

  “Yes we do they are over here.”

  “I don’t need to see them. Aiden, if you get this one, when your instructor says you need the high hat, I’ll come back and get it. Deal?”

  “I don’t know. The other one is so cool.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s black.”

  “Does this come in black?”

  “Yes. I have a set in the back.”

  “There it comes in black. We have to go. Do you want this one or the beginner kit?”

  “I’ll take this one.”

  What a way to take the fun out of spending $500 plus taxes. He’s supposed to be excited not disappointed. The salesman rings it up and Aiden helps load it into the van. Next stop Football then to get the cheque from Gus’ client. I should make it home by 7 at the latest.

  What am I going to do about Dinner?

  Present

  Sophie

  Lindsay’s place is a palace in the sky.

  I can’t believe we are going to be staying here.

  The kid’s eyes are huge when we walk off the elevator right into her apartment. Yep. No hallway. You walk off the elevator and all you see is the bay straight ahead. Once you walk further in, through a w
ide and large entrance area you notice that to the right are neighbouring buildings, as well as to the left. The place is floor to ceiling windows.

  “So what do you think?”

  I try to take it all in. The décor is luxurious, the artwork expensive, the kitchen state of the art and the view, breathtaking. What can I say about it? It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen before, except in magazines.

  “Wyatt, don’t touch anything. I can’t afford to replace it if you break it.”

  “Don’t worry Sophie, it’ll be fine. You’ll be careful won’t you Wyatt?”

  “Yes mam.”

  “See. Come on in. Me casa eh your casa or something like that. Are you hungry? We could order in some –“

  “I’ll make something.” I say.

  “Ah I’m pretty sure I don’t have much in the way of food.”

  I go to the kitchen and open the biggest stainless steel fridge I’ve ever seen. It’s almost empty. There is some bottled water, some white wine, doggy bag restaurant boxes, and a jar of pickles. The cupboards aren’t much better.

  “I’ll get some groceries later and make dinner. We are good for now.”

  “Well too late, I already ordered a couple large pizza’s for lunch.” Lindsay says. “We’ll get you set up and then we’ll figure out what to do from here.”

  What to do? Isn’t that the question of the Century. What am I going to do now? I’m not sure this was a good idea. Disappearing like that will only upset Craig and I can’t have him upset. If he is upset I’ll never get child support or my share of the house equity. If he’s mad he won’t be fair. I spent every day of our marriage trying to make him happy and now? I do something that I know will make him mad? My stomach clenches and my body tenses at the thought of making him angry on purpose.

  “Let me show you the rooms and we can get what you brought unpacked. Charlie said she’d get the rest sorted for you.”

  “Is Charlie always so helpful?”

  “From what I can tell she likes a good fight and she has a good heart. I don’t know her well enough to say more than that.”