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‘Daddy!’ That one word and his eyes misted. He placed his finger on the screen and traced the outline of her angelic child face. Noah tried to capture the exuberance of her cheeky, lopsided smile, instead, a shooting pain fissured his heart.
‘Hey, baby girl. How are you?’
‘I’m good.’
‘Where are you sitting?’
‘In my new room, see.’ Emily moved her computer in a circle to show him a pretty and pink bedroom. There were plush curtains, a rug, muted lighting and girlish posters of rainbows and horses.
A wild animal was now batting its wings and scraping the edges of Noah’s ribcage, desperate to crawl out, be free and unleash its fury.
‘Tell me about your new home.’ Was he interrogating his six-year-old or showing genuine interest? Sometimes he didn’t know. It was so confusing. He wanted information of where she was, how she was living, her safety, but always aware of the fine line he wasn’t allowed to cross.
‘I have a pool!’
Did it have a legal fence with an automatic shutting gate? Were there palings she could climb over? Was she always supervised in the yard? And, oh, in the pool? Emily had only recently started swimming lessons. But…he didn’t ask any of those pressing questions.
The ache spread across his chest.
Each word she spoke in her adorable little girl voice was a stab to his heart when all he desperately wanted was to enjoy these precious few moments. He knew, too soon, she’d be bored of speaking to him via the screen and become distracted by one of the many toys in her room. Or often, from her mother intervening.
Emily bumped the laptop so that it almost fell and sure enough, there was Lisa hovering in the background. Monitoring his every word lest he crossed that imaginary line.
‘So, you’re living in a big city now…’
‘Noah.’ Lisa’s warning. Gosh he hadn’t even been able to finish his words this time. But he heeded the threat. If he didn’t behave the internet would miraculously drop and he wouldn’t see his daughter for another few days. Not that spending time with her via the fancy new set up of Zoom was “seeing” her anyway. But, for the moment it was better than nothing.
A kitten meandered in front of the screen and Emily squealed. ‘This is Smokey, he’s my kitten. Isn’t he cute?’ Little pudgy hands gripped the tiny cat around its middle and held him up. New pets, new toys, a new house and family. Difficult to compete with when he had nothing but the “old” to offer. In his view, the old was pretty good. A country life filled with freedom, land, animals and opportunities to be outside, not cramped in a sardine-sized house in a suburban street with the only outside the local park and its solitary swing.
Where was Otis? He whistled for him. Emily loved that dog. He could do with some help.
The cat scooted, Emily chased after it, and left the screen behind. Conversation over. Lisa came into view and his heart moved to sit in his stomach. ‘When can I see Emily?’
Damn it, he needed to practise his pleasantries. It was hard being nice to the women you’d once loved and had left you. Even after the passage of time, it still felt raw.
‘Any time you want.’
He hung his head, biting back his words. Probably best to have this conversation via text, less chance of nasty exchanges. ‘Okay, thanks. I’ll come back to you with some dates.’ He clicked end and the monitor went black.
Noah balled his hands into fists and then released them with a sigh. He reached for the notepad and pen he kept on the desk nearby and scribbled. Furious words that he’d probably be unable to read later.
Pain. Anguish. Fear. Gripping his heart like a vice, his pain ascending to new heights.
The words poured out of him.
There’d never been so many hours in the day after your family had left. Yes, he’d worked, but coming home in the evenings had been busy with a young child: baths, early dinner and story time. The hours had slid by until he and Lisa had both collapsed, exhausted, into bed, not long after Emily. Now without that routine, the evenings were interminably long and quiet.
And provided endless thinking time. In the depth of the dark nights, he tore himself apart with the “what ifs”. Where had he gone wrong? What else could he have done to save his marriage and have Lisa stay? Was he not a good enough husband? Was he not a good enough dad? Surely, if he’d been enough, then Lisa would have stayed.
Wallowing in his own self-pity didn’t answer any of those questions and tonight he had a community council meeting to attend. He finished the poem and put it away for later.
Noah jumped into his ute, uncertainty bubbling away inside him, burning just under his skin. How long could this go on for? Was Emily going to be permanently in Brisbane? The prospect cut like a cavernous wound.
Noah pressed the Bluetooth number on his speed dial so he could talk and drive. He needed to talk to another dad in the father support group; a group of like-minded parents who met regularly, their only common thread: a messy divorce.
‘Hey, Noah.’
‘Hi Andrew.’
