Liv Unravelled Read online

  “Now tell me exactly what happened.”

  “Last night I avoided looking at him or talking to him until the kids went to bed. Then I got up my courage and finally did what you’ve been advising me to do for months. I sat him down on the porch and asked him flat out whether he’s having an affair with Anya.”

  “And…?” Celeste’s amber eyes are wide.

  “He said ‘Do you really want to know? There’s no going back.’ I said yes. I figured if I could get him to admit it or deny it I could at least know where I stand. Then in this cold voice he said ‘Yes.’ That was it — then he left and didn’t come back for hours. He probably went to Rob’s to drink. I heard him return and creak around the house. He slept on the couch and I lay awake all night, agonizing.

  “This morning he threw it all in my face as if he’d done nothing wrong and slammed out the door, where he proceeded to back his car over Molly’s beautiful new bike. For a few heart-stopping moments I thought he’d run over Molly! Then he tore into her, telling her she was a spoiled brat for not putting her bike away. He was merciless.”

  “Oh, my god.” Celeste’s expression is shocked.

  “Molly was absolutely traumatized — she actually wet her pants, which she hasn’t done in years. I managed to calm her down and give her a bath by the time Kat came to pick the kids up for summer camp. I was surprised she still wanted to go. I promised her I’d be there to get them this afternoon and we’d go directly to Cutter’s Gorge and get her a new bike.”

  “Poor little Moll. That must have been terrible for her. And you.”

  “Yes, sadly, the bike can be replaced, but I think her tears were more about the way her dad treated her. I will never be able to repair that and I’m afraid he won’t either. He used to be such a positive, energetic dad and husband — there have been times he’s been strict, but he’s never been cruel, not like this. Over the last few months he’s been making excuses to stay in town — now I know it was because of the affair — but he’s also been drinking way more and suffering from terrible migraines. I’ve been trying so hard to shield the kids from all of it, but now he’s broken trust with them too. I can’t live like this anymore.”

  “Of course you can’t, Liv. I can see how devastating this is for you. Look at your puffy eyes, and when we hugged I could feel every rib on you.”

  “Ha, yes, now I get skinny! After all the cabbage soup, grapefruit and Jane Fonda aerobics classes we’ve endured to lose weight, turns out all I needed was a nervous breakdown.”

  The aroma of freshly picked mint wafts from the steam as Celeste pours the hot tea. She places the honey pot and a plate laden with fruit, crackers and cheese prominently in front of her friend. Liv’s stomach clenches in anticipation and she realizes this will be her first nourishment of the day. She’d had no appetite this morning.

  “I am so damned angry with that husband of yours after all the crap he’s pulled.” The soft features of Celeste’s tawny brown face, are drawn briefly into an exaggerated scowl.

  “When you first moved here I admired what you two had — you were so in love and both absolutely committed to the rural lifestyle, raising organic veggies and free-range kids. And Ross was such a brilliant, charismatic guy. Remember the parties you had? He was so much fun.”

  “It’s all fallen apart, Celeste. He’s not the same person anymore. You know, when I was lying awake last night it came to me that everything started to change when he ran for the nomination. It was like he was swept up by the political possibilities — sometimes he seemed too exuberant, too fired up about it — and then he was shocked and devastated when he lost. It’s like it took away his sense of himself somehow — his commitment to us, his family, has been eroded.”

  “I think you’re right. He’s lost it, and I wonder if he realizes he could very well lose you. Sometimes I think the most helpful thing your women friends could do would be to posse up and run him out of town.”

  Liv smiles as she visualizes this scenario.

  “You know that whether you decide to work things out in your marriage or leave him, you have my full support.”

  “I’m such a mess, Celeste. I feel so beaten down and weak. I’ve always been able to feel happiness and joy in my life and now, it’s as if the plug has been pulled and it’s all draining out of me. I think I really need you, not just as a friend, but as a therapist. I don’t think I can make it through this without some help.”

  “I’m always here for you. You know that. I’d be honoured to be your therapist, but do you realize what that means? You’ve always been a bit quiet when I’ve talked about the techniques I use in my work.”

  “I admit I’ve been a bit skeptical. But if we were to do it, what would you suggest?”

  “We could do some sessions talking about what’s happened lately, and in your past.”

  “You think I need to work on some things from my childhood? My problems are now, Celeste. Do you really think I should be looking at the past?”

  “I do, Liv. In my work, I often see that looking at the past, even going back to past lives, can give a person insight into their strengths and find the courage to move forward. You’ve never really told me much about your life before you came here to Little Mountain. You’ve alluded to traumatic incidents, but you’ve never elaborated.

  “Your past is who you are — it shapes your personality, your decisions and how you respond to everything. I believe our past lives also have relevance. Somehow you became this amazing person, and I would love to explore that with you using hypno-regression. Do you think you’d be up for that?”

  “Childhood and past lives? Really? I’m afraid I’m a bit dubious about that, but maybe it’s fear as much as anything.” As if I don’t have enough to worry about without adding past incarnations to the mix.

  Liv suddenly realizes this wise woman is the only person she’s willing to trust at this moment. She’s not some New Age snake oil salesperson, she’s her closest friend and a respected therapist who has helped many people through far worse situations. She thinks of her dear friend Thomas, who sought help from Celeste to cope with his fear of death when he was diagnosed with AIDS. If Celeste could help him, certainly she can help me.

  “I guess we could give it a try.”

  “Your hesitation is natural,” Celeste says with a smile. “We’ve all been trained to think of hypnosis, reincarnation and past lives as kooky. But I think you’ll find it helpful. It will always be your choice what we talk about or where we go in our sessions. It’s also absolutely fine if you decide it’s not for you.”

  Liv has another flutter of interior panic. What am I getting into? She pushes it aside, choosing to have faith in her friend.

  “Okay. Yes, for sure, I do want to try this and I will keep my mind open.” Having spoken the words, she feels lighter.

  “You’re the most wonderful friend, and you’ve been here for me since the first day we met. I don’t know how I would have survived this far if I hadn’t had you to talk to and help me figure things out — not just with Ross, you’ve taught me so much about gardening, parenting, even canning and rural living. I trust you, and I really do feel this is the right time for me to do this. I’m ready.”

  Celeste beams — the confidence she exudes and the crinkles around her eyes are all that belie her age as a decade ahead of Liv.

  “When can we start?” Liv asks, keen to begin now that she’s finished wavering.

  “I have two hours free tomorrow morning, starting at ten.”

  2

  ~ Blue ~

  As she retraces her steps through Celeste’s vegetable garden on her way home, Liv absently snaps a sprig of rosemary from one of the bright yellow herb pots and inhales its scent. She tilts her face to feel the warmth of the afternoon sun. Through the trees, she can see the glint of sunlight on the river.

  She notices with surprise that she feels almost at peace. The anger that drove her to Celeste’s has been assuaged. In its place is a strange feeli
ng of purpose. She has a plan to make a plan. Celeste, who has always been her ally, will now bring out her superpower to help her deal with this — and at last she is dealing with it. As she carries on along the trail, thoughts of Ross invade her mind. She always thought if a man ever cheated on her she would kick him out. But it’s not that simple.

  We’ve been together nearly ten years, mostly happy. I still love him, I think. But I hate him right now. We’ve worked so hard to make this farm perfect for us. He’s wrecking all that. It doesn’t seem like he’s even sorry, for the affair or for any of it.

  Given Ross’ behaviour, anyone else would probably have intuited that he was having an affair long ago, but she didn’t — she had felt secure in their love. Their relationship had never been wildly sexual, so a lessening in that department hadn’t concerned her. It wasn’t until she’d seen Ross and his student at a faculty party last spring that she had the uneasy feeling there was something going on. There was a kinetic energy between he and Anya — he looked entranced with her. There was joy in his eyes.

  Maybe the kids and me and the farm have never been enough to keep Ross happy. Maybe he’s always been seeking more, one way or another. This may not even be his first affair.

  The thought makes her blush with humiliation and bile rises from her stomach into her throat. She swallows hard.

  Her pace quickens as she approaches the meadow at the edge of their property. She begins to wonder how the kids are doing at the camp. Molly tends to find a spot and fall asleep if she’s emotionally distraught. Once she even crawled under the table at her own birthday party. On the rare occasions when Ross is minding the kids lately, Molly can be found asleep upon Liv’s return, no matter the time of day. Molly lost her trust in him long before he ran over her bike, Liv realizes sadly.

  Liv doesn’t worry about Leah, she’ll be looking after other kids, reading or tidying the art supplies. Five-year-old Micah is a different story — whenever she leaves him with anyone, there is an element of stress. When left unsupervised for a moment, he’s been known to wander up to the highway or down to the river. Once he got himself into the back of a truck being loaded with bulls and nearly got stomped. Another time, she ran across the kitchen just in time to prevent him from sticking a fork into a light socket.

  She realizes with a deep regret that she has never really trusted Ross to keep any of the three kids safe. Her thoughts bounce back and forth. Is this because he’s always been untrustworthy or do I just have a problem with trust? Did he actually change or get worse, or did I just stop being able to make excuses for him?

  Ducking under the fence, she recalls snagging her sweater earlier that morning. She imagines the whole garment unravelling until it becomes nothing but a messy pile of blue threads. Is my marriage unwinding the same way? Is my whole life coming undone? Losing trust, losing hope, losing the whole ball of yarn. I feel like I’m emptying out. The energy I had for propping myself and this marriage up is dissolving. My heart has cracked open and it hurts like hell, but maybe it had to happen.

  As she passes the asparagus patch, she casts a deep sigh. Another of Ross’ big ideas, it looks ragged and weedy. He wasn’t happy to just plant a few asparagus plants for the family. No, he had to plant a full acre and dream up a scheme to supply French restaurants in the city — which never happened.

  Approaching the house, Liv’s apprehension grows. She hopes Ross won’t be there — she doesn’t want to have to deal with him without the buffer of the kids between them. She should have picked them up by now and if he’s home, he could delay her. The children are already off kilter from the scene this morning, they don’t need the added insecurity of wondering if their mother will ever come back for them.

  She dodges through the rose garden like a spy, trying to see if Ross’ car is in the yard. She just wants to duck into the house and grab the car keys. She makes a mental note to remember to water the roses — they’re limp with drought but amazingly still willing to share their wonderful scent. Liv has a flash of guilt. This garden was her romantic vision — fragrant roses planted with clumps of lavender and hollyhock. Ross thinks it’s a waste of time growing temperamental roses and he hates lavender — he says it’s a repellent used by women to remind men of the scent of the sachets in their grandmothers’ underwear drawers. A sure-fire turn-off, in his opinion.

  Painfully aware of how cowardly she’s being, sneaking around the corner of the house, Liv musters up some maturity, if not courage. If he’s here I’ll deal with him, she thinks, but all the same, she sighs with relief when she sees his car is not there.

  Her children are not sleeping or huddling in the corner pining for her when she arrives to pick them up, demonstrating that her worst fears are realized only very occasionally. When Micah and Molly spot her they launch themselves into her arms for hugs. From eight-year-old Leah she gets a big smile and a tug on her sleeve. They show Liv some cool dough art they’ve made. Leah’s looks like a map of Canada, Molly’s looks like a baby doll in a cradle, and Micah’s looks like a dinosaur — possibly. Not wanting to hurt their feelings by hazarding a wrong guess, Liv says, “My artistic kids, I love your creations! Now we’re off to the hardware store, as promised.”

  Molly chooses a two-wheeler bike identical to the one Liv bought the month before, except it’s blue. There wasn’t another pink one. Micah talks her into buying Skittles candy too. Molly skips around joyfully, the painful incident that morning seemingly forgotten.

  At home, she makes her nearly famous grilled cheese taco pizzas and serves them with wedges of Russet apples straight off their tree. After dinner, the kids seem tired and irritable. Molly shoves Micah out of the way when he drives his grader right through the area she has set up for her doll to sunbathe. Leah rolls her eyes when Liv asks for help with the dishes. “What, are you a teenager already?” Liv teases Leah into submission.

  They all seem edgy — they know there’s a storm brewing, threatening to shake their world, and they need some kind of assurance that everything will be okay, but Liv can’t find the words.

  Throughout the evening, the kids don’t ask where their dad is. They’ve grown used to him being away all day, or in bed with a migraine. It’s such a change from their normal routine. In April through August, when Ross has no classes to teach, he’s usually a fount of fun, creating projects and adventures for all of them. Even Liv hasn’t given him much thought — she’s been focusing on the kids.

  Leah seems more subdued than usual and she says she doesn’t want a bedtime story — she wants to read her own book, James and the Giant Peach. She’s more than halfway through and she wants to try to finish it tonight. Liv’s heart beats with both pain and pride as she reflects on how grown up her oldest daughter has become, and then as Leah climbs into Liv’s arms for a hug, Liv breathes out those thoughts.

  “Mommy, what does it mean if somebody is ‘on something’?” she asks softly.

  “What do you mean, Sweetie?”

  “Well, the art camp teacher, the tall one, was talking on the phone, and I could tell she was talking about you and Daddy, and she said, “What a shame about Ross, I swear he is on something.’’

  Oh man, Liv thinks, she’s too young to know about this kind of stuff.

  She distracts Leah by brightly saying: “I don’t know what she meant, Hon, but I know we better get on some jammies and some tooth-brushing, because it has been a super long day!”

  Instead, Leah tightens her hug and holds it a little longer. It’s so like her eldest child to intuit that her mother needs a little extra love today. She’s a caregiver — an eight-year-old with the sensibilities of someone much older. There are times that Liv worries that she’s marred Leah’s childhood by counting on her way too much to look out for the younger two. And now she’s looking after me, she muses.

  As she’s getting ready for bed, Molly asks, “Does Daddy know I got a new bike? He didn’t think I ‘zerved one.”

  Liv can’t bear to tell her that Daddy proba
bly hasn’t given her broken bike, or any of them, another thought since this morning, so she just says, “I don’t know, sweetie, but I can hardly wait to see you ride it tomorrow! We’ll take the rainbow streamers off the broken one, they’ll look pretty on it.”

  “Is blue a boy colour, Mommy?”

  “No way, Molly,” Liv replies, “Boys can’t have blue all to themselves — it’s one of the best colours and it’s for everyone.”

  Molly smiles a little as she dresses her favourite baby doll in blue sleepers and wraps it up tight in a soft pastel pink baby blanket. “I love you to the moon and back,” Molly says to her baby doll. Liv smiles, “Well, by golly Miss Molly, I love you to Mars and back,” she says, lightly tickling Molly’s ribs and eliciting her purely joyful laugh.

  There’s an odd sound coming from the kitchen — Liv rushes upstairs in time to find Micah in his froggy pajamas, diligently sawing at the leg of the oak dining table with a pruning saw. She thought he was asleep!

  “No, no, no…” she cries, running to intervene. “No tools inside!”

  She coaxes the saw from his tight little grip, scoops him up in her arms, and carries him downstairs to his bed, kissing the angry tears from his cheeks. He’s not upset about what he’s done, he’s upset that Mommy’s taken the saw away. As she re-tucks Micah into his bed, Liv has a flash of irony — that beautiful wooden table should be marked by the children. It was too perfect anyway.

  Stories told, monsters banished, kisses delivered, Liv closes their bedroom door and returns upstairs to throw on a load of laundry in the utility room off the kitchen. This is the first time in her life she’s had her own washer and dryer. Prior to her marriage, it was laundromats all the way. She tidies the kitchen, even wiping down the wood cook-stove — she calls it Elmira — buffing the nickel trim until it gleams. She loves this room with its rich oak cupboards and the deep indigo countertops set off by splashes of rust, yellow and blue in the inlaid Mexican tile floor.