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‘I’m tired too, Cara, you’re not the only one.’ Pete crossed his arms. ‘Sometimes, as soon as I get through the door after work you hand the kids over to me when I just need a few short minutes to myself, but I take them because I know you’ve had a long day with them.’
‘Then why add more tiredness to the mix?’ Cara threw her hands up in confusion.
‘It’s not going to last forever, and the good times outweigh the bad.’ A faint smile touched Pete’s lips. ‘Don’t you love it when they jump on our bed in the morning and cuddle us half to death? And the look on their little faces when they take their first steps? What about the cute baby giggles, and the first day of pre-school when they cry but come home so happy? And remember how Lily seemed to grow up into a proud big sister as soon as Jacob was born. I just love watching them grow.’
‘I do too, I really do,’ Cara replied. ‘But what about the sleepless nights? We’re still going through them with Toby, a new baby would only add to that. And there’s the nine months of pregnancy, the pain of childbirth – oh wait, you don’t have to go through that – and what about the increased washing, cleaning, cooking, and not to mention the financial burden of raising four kids.’
‘We’d manage. We always do.’ Pete ran his palm down her arm.
‘Well ... I don’t think Iammanaging right now.’ Cara lowered her head. ‘I feel like I’m hanging onto an unravelling thread, ready to fall at any moment.’ She picked up his hand and held it gently in hers. ‘I’m so grateful for everything you do for us, and I’m sorry I don’t always respect the need foryour own space too. You work hard helping people all day, or night, and of course you’re going to need some down time after work.’
Pete looked up at her, love and disheartenment sharing space in his eyes.
‘It’s just, I need to have a life of my own as well,’ Cara continued. ‘I get to the end of each day feeling like there’s something missing, something inside that isn’t being tended to. You’ve got your job, your friends, and your sport.’ She sighed and sunk to the bed as though sharing these feelings exhausted her. ‘I’ve only ever been a Mum, but I need something more.’
Cara sat hand in hand with Pete on the edge of the bed, a painful silence between them until Toby’s cries broke it. Cara stood and Pete touched her shoulder. ‘I’ll go,’ he said.
ELEVEN
Life Makeover Principle #3:
To start living the life you want, START living the life you want!
‘What time did you get home last night?’ Gina asked her husband as he shuffled into the kitchen, rubbing his puffy eyes. He’d attended a work function, leaving Gina to enjoy a night on her own. She’d done some yoga by candlelight in the living room, then spread out on the sofa to read a novel while classical music played in the background. Things she couldn’t do when he was around.
‘Can’t remember, might have been about two.’
‘I’ve made scrambled eggs. Do you want toast with them?’ She placed the plate of eggs into the microwave to reheat.
‘Two slices.’ Marvin plonked onto a chair at the kitchen table. ‘Oh, I almost forgot, what did the doctor say?’
‘My prolactin levels are normal now. She said it was probably a one-off, so there’s nothing to be concerned about.’ Gina stirred milk into Marvin’s coffee and handed it to him.
‘That’s good to hear.’ Marvin sipped from his mug.
Gina ducked into the bedroom to get her gym bag, and stopped in the living room on her way back to the kitchen. Her laptop sat open on the small desk in the corner, and remembering she needed to check if Naomi had replied to her message, she jiggled the mouse to bring the screen to life.
‘Glad you can make it, see you there,’was Naomi’s reply, complete with a little smiley-face emoji. Naomi had sent a message earlier on Facebook asking Gina if she wanted to meet for lunch today. Before closing the laptop down, she noticed a status update from Cara:
Cara Collinsneeds a holiday to recover from her holiday.
Poor Cara. She always appeared tired and frazzled. Raising young children was bound to take its toll on any woman. Gina’s fingers hesitated over the keyboard, then she withdrew them. Although she’d accepted friend requests from the women in the club, she didn’t know them that well yet, and preferred to just watch and observe for a while. In fact, she hardly ever responded to anyone’s Facebook updates, nor did she write her own.Why do I even have an account?She closed down the computer and walked into the kitchen, her gym bag slung over her shoulder.
Her handbag lay open on the table and Marvin held a copy of ‘Three Times a Lady’ in his hand. ‘Why are you reading this crap?’
Gina shifted from one foot to the other and lowered her gaze to the floor. ‘It’s not crap, it’s just ... someone at work lent it to me.’ She’d actually bought it after reading the twofreebies from the Harlequin guy. ‘Anyway, why were you prying in my bag?’
‘I wasn’t, it was open and I spotted the book,’ Marvin defended. ‘Seriously, these books are rubbish, why would you want to read something like this?’
‘Look, I better get to work, I don’t want to be late.’ Gina grabbed her bags and the book, and turned away. She’d always hated conflict and confrontation. For some reason it always brought back memories of her strict catholic girls’ school, when a cocky teacher had put her on the spot one day to answer a question in front of the class, and she couldn’t remember the answer with the pressure of everyone’s eyes on her. It was a simple question, but she’d frozen, and everyone had laughed, including the teacher. She’d wanted to complain to the school principal but didn’t have the guts. And now, the extent of her assertiveness was limited to the occasional beep of her horn when someone cut in front of her on the road, or stole the parking space she was about to drive into, and even then, she’d keep the windows up and sink behind the steering wheel to avoid any retaliation. Once, she even complained to an online shop when they sent her a size ten dress instead of the eight she’d clearly selected, telling them it was ‘unsatisfactory’, but that had been via email. Face to face confrontations sparked a fear in her. They rattled her nerves and made her feel vulnerable, took away her sense of control. So where she found the courage to turn back to face Marvin she didn’t know. Maybe it was her irritation at his sheer ignorance about romance novels, or the annoying way he sat there slumped in his chair, belly protruding, holding the coffee she’d prepared for him without a ‘thank you’ in return.
‘Have you even read a book like that before, Marvin?’
‘What? Of course not!’
‘Then how do you know it’s crap?’
‘Look at it!’ he mocked, pointing to the lovers embracing on the cover.
