‘Do you know how shallow that sounds?’
‘I do not care! I’m here and I’m really trying. I don’t want to become some housewife who fades into the background of your life!’
‘Isla, I see you. All I could think when I came in was how proud I was of you baking a pie, which is so much more important to me than your hair being immaculate. That is why we are here, to get our values right. You look beautiful to me no matter what. I don’t want Meegan to grow up being image-obsessed. I don’t want her to get sick like you did.’
Isla’s eyes grew teary at the mention of her battle with anorexia which, while a distant memory, still had the power to cut her like a knife. Aiden crossed the space between them which was littered with insults and spite. He held his wife in his arms and kissed her new hair.
‘You look beautiful, baby, you always do.’ She was now crying into his shoulder.
‘It’s just hard, Aid,’ Isla spluttered through her tears. ‘This isn’t my home. Chicago was my home and I’m lonely here. I had a life, I had friends and now I have…nothing. I’m sorry, I’m just finding it hard to adjust.’
‘I know,’ Aiden whispered soothingly in to his wife’s ear. ‘It will take time, baby. We’ve just got to stick together.’
‘Mommy?’ Meegan was looking up at them, bewilderment in her little face and tears streaking her podgy cheeks.
‘Oh, baby girl,’ Isla gasped, hurriedly wiping the tears from her own cheeks.
‘What…is…wrong?’ the little girl sobbed, the confusion of seeing her mother cry overwhelming her.
‘Nothing, honey.’ Isla was now hugging her little girl as her sobs turned into hiccups.
‘Daddy told Mommy he was going to eat the whole pie because it looks so good and I’m very hungry,’ Aiden offered as an explanation.
‘No!’ Meegan screamed and started hitting his legs in fury.
‘Hey,’ he protested, grabbing her little arms mid-punch. ‘I’m sure that there is enough for us all to share, you and Mommy did a great job and I’m very proud.’
Isla smiled warmly at them both.
‘And doesn’t Mommy look super pretty with her hair?’
‘Oh yes.’ Meegan was now smiling again. Aiden felt exhausted; living with two women was far from easy.
‘They made my nails pink!’ She showed her dad her tiny nails which now glistened and sparkled. He hid his true feelings with a smile as he couldn’t handle another argument. Meegan was two; she didn’t need to be getting caught up in all that beauty stuff yet. He would discuss it with Isla another time. For now, they were going to enjoy a nice family evening together.
As they sat down to eat that evening, rain began splashing against the windows with a sudden fury, the tension in the air finally lifted.
Chapter Three: Little Miss Southern Star
Aiden took a long drink from his coffee and looked down sadly at his half-eaten breakfast, knowing that he was going to have to admit defeat.
‘Whats wrong?’ Isla asked from across the table. ‘Don’t you like your breakfast?’
‘It is wonderful,’ he began.
‘Don’t you feel well?’
‘I feel fine.’
‘So what is it?’
Aiden hesitated. Isla was getting really prickly about things lately and he didn’t want another argument. The truth of it was, that every day since moving to Avalon she insisted on cooking him a massive breakfast each morning, ‘to build him up for the day’ apparently, but it was just too much. Aiden was used to a liquid breakfast; on the rare occasions that he did eat it was usually just a bagel snatched from a vendor on his dash into work. Being confronted with a plate overflowing with bacon rashers, eggs both scrambled and fried, grits, French toast and beans was starting to make him feel sick. He knew he had to tread gently when expressing his thoughts to Isla; she was just being nice to him after all.
‘I don’t normally eat a big breakfast, and whilst it is lovely sometimes, some days, just cereal would do.’
To his relief, Isla just nodded in agreement.
‘That is fine, Aid. As long as it isn’t because you don’t like my cooking or something! It is hard to know when enough is enough. I’ve never normally cooked for you before and I’m still getting used to my new role. I guess I need to pull back a bit else you and Meegan are going to become whales!’
He reached out and touched her hand.
‘You are doing an amazing job. I had no idea that you had all this in you!’
‘Well, you were never around that much before to see.’
‘I’m here now and I don’t want to miss a thing!’ The couple smiled warmly at one another.
‘If you are all finished, I’ll start clearing up.’ Isla began collecting together the various plates and cutlery from the table.
‘I’ll help,’ Aiden offered, rising to his feet.
‘No, no, you’ve got work, let me handle this. Finish your coffee.’ Without any further persuasion he sat back down and returned to drinking the jet-black stimulant from his favourite blue mug. It was chipped and cracked all over but he loved it. Coffee just didn’t taste the same in anything else. He had lost count of the times Isla had tried to throw it out, she thought it tacky and old. But Aiden had developed a strange attachment to his mug. Perhaps it was because it had been a gift from his mother before she had passed away. Whatever the reason, his favourite start to the day was enjoying putting his old mug to his lips and savouring the contents from inside as they slid down the back of his throat.
‘Oh,’ Isla called to him over the sound of the faucet filling up the sink with soapy water. ‘Don’t forget we’re going to church this Sunday. It’ll give us a chance to meet people and that. I saw the local priest when I was walking into town with Meegan. Nice man. Father somebody, I don’t remember. He was super friendly, not creepy or anything, so I said we would go.’ The tone of her voice suggested that this was aimed more as a question than a statement.
‘That is fine, honey.’ Aiden noticed that outside the sun was shining and the sky was a dazzling crystal blue. He always felt better about his upcoming day when the sun was shining, often taking it as a good omen of things to come.
‘Nice day today, you taking Meegan anywhere?’
‘I thought I might drive out of town a bit, pick up some paints.’
‘Great idea, you two will enjoy painting the house together!’
‘Any colours you would like?’
‘I don’t mind,’ then, looking at his mug, he added, ‘a deep blue, like my mug.’
‘Ugh,’ Isla sighed in disgust. ‘That damn mug. Fine, I’ll check out the manky blues for you.’
‘It is not a manky blue; it is dark like the depths of the ocean.’
‘You say dark, I say dull.’
He was about to protest when Isla yelled out in sudden anger, ‘Meegan!’
He looked up at his little daughter to see her wearing her Elmo breakfast bowl as a hat,