Someone's Been Sleeping In My Bed Page 5
Skye shook her head in dismay. The dress was light blue, trimmed with white lace and bunched at the shoulders.
“All I need now are pigtails.” She said to the empty room as she covered the front of her body with the outfit and looked at herself in the mirror.
She heard footsteps down the hall.
“Hey Skye, you okay? Porridge is ready.”
Skye swung to the door, clutching the dress to her naked form.
“I’m fine,” She looked down at herself. “Just getting dressed.”
“Okay, I’m going to go check the fuse box.” He said as Skye slowly pulled the dress over her frame.
“Pigtails it is then.”
Midday was becoming afternoon as Skye exited the house, porridge in hand, ready to look a complete fool but at least not on an empty stomach. Tanner’s head was buried in an old wooden box when Skye found him.
“Go on, get it over with.” She said, trying to get out in front of what she knew was coming.
“Get what over wi-”
He didn’t finish the last word because he was too busy growing a slow, warm laugh.
“Well, would you look at you.”
“It was the only thing I could find that fit, okay?”
“Well it certainly does fit.”
“Hey!” She held the bowl out in front of her. “You’re lucky this porridge is tasty or you’d be wearing it!”
Tanner threw his hand’s up in defence.
“Whoa now, no need to let things get out of hand. I mean, don’t you think you’ve wasted enough of those oats already?” His smile turning mischievous.
Skye disagreed, and forgetting her hunger, decided it was time for Tanner to take a bath.
“You know you deserved it.” Skye remarked as Tanner attended to the slowly congealing lumps on his shirt, trousers and forehead.
“T’was worth it just to see the look on your face.”
“Oh, so you’d like some more? There is a whole pot left. You made enough to feed a group of wild animals.” Skye said as she walked out of the kitchen.
“Force of habit living out here. It wasn’t too hot?”
“Not at all, it was just right actually.”Skye said as she walked back inside the cottage and handed him her daily planner and a biro.
“I would like a concise, step-by-step on how to cook it from scratch.”
Tanner happily complied and jotted what seemed like only a few words. He then handed the planner back to Skye who assumed he was ridiculing her again and snapped at him while accepting the notebook.
“I’m serious, I want to know.”
“It is all there, just have to make sure to pay attention to the heat.”
Skye looked down and he was right, it was all there: Boil water. Stir oats. Add salt.
“That’s it?” She was honestly annoyed at how simple he made it seem.
“What did you expect, magic?”
“Of course not, but there has to be something I was doing wrong.”
Tanner turned to the microwave.
“I’d try by not using one of these, for a start. Have you honestly ever tasted anything worth eating that has been cooked in one?”
Skye remembered all the nights in law school when she had eaten microwaved lean cuisine kits, which inadvertently worked in helping her lose weight as more often than not she threw most of the meals out.
“Just give it a try in the morning and go from there.” He brushed a curtain aside. “I better get back to the store,” and checking his shirt again, “and perhaps change my shirt.”
Skye felt a pang of guilt and spoke without thinking, which was quite out of character.
“I could wash it for you.”
The room abruptly drained of all noise, even the crickets were taken back by the offer. Skye dared not move a muscle in her body just in case she said anything else she would regret. Tanner read the regret across her face and relieved her of it.
“Nice of you to offer but I still need to get back to the store.”
Skye was grateful for the reprieve but decided she would try and gain back some footing.
“That’s fine, but I insist on cooking you some dinner. And by cooking, I mean ordering from the Chinese food place, seeing as you don’t have a McDonald’s.” But before Tanner could answer, Skye caught herself.
“That is, of course, if your girlfriend doesn’t mind.” She added a slight amount of maternal overtone that belittled the idea, if it was true.
Tanner’s smile begun to grow again.
“What time?”
Actually, I'm with the perfect guy.
Evening put afternoon to rest and Skye spent the time drying off a suitable outfit, disposing of the mess from the microwave explosion, and then the microwave itself, and reorganising her makeup in two piles: useable and waterlogged. She had also called the Chinese place ahead of time so that the order would be ready for her guest as he arrived.
A swift knock came at the door to the cottage. Skye, who was still in the process of straightening her hair and halfway through a three stage approach to her makeup, rushed to the door. She still had a solid twenty minutes before Tanner was going to arrive and had planned out the time required down to the second. She opened the door, expecting to be greeted by a small asian man. Instead, a handsome young farmhand was standing on the other side holding her order and a bottle of red wine. Tanner presented it to her as though she was a customer.
“I used to deliver for them on a weekend.”
“You know, this town is starting to appear quite incestuous.” She controlled her annoyance.
“I suppose it is a good thing I’m an only child then. But you might have a point, the Chinese place isn’t even owned by any Chinese people. The Jones brought it to town because they were sick of eating the same stuff.”
Skye’s frustration dispersed at the interesting fact.
“We have the same thing in the city. A place might have an italian name, but mostly it will be run by non-Italians who wouldn’t know homemade pasta from drywall. And the latest fashion is ‘boutique eateries’, which is a buzzword for expensive snobbery and the anti-culture culture. They are generally run by people who have two semesters of a politics degree, skinny jeans and a long list of colloquial grievances based around why goat’s cheese should be added to everything.”
“Sounds like a pretty incestuous place.”
“It is beginning to feel like it.”
“Well, how about I serve up the food and you can...” He gestured towards her unfinished hair but Skye’s only reply was a deep breath.
“Not much point now really, is there?” And with that she opened the door wide and let him in.
Tanner made for the kitchen but Skye stopped in the middle of the loungeroom.
“I don’t know about you, but it has been forever since I ate fried rice from the container, whilst sitting in the middle of a loungeroom floor.”
Tanner’s response came in the form of quiet agreement and the two set up a cozy dining area, complete with cushions for seats, on the carpet of her grandmother’s sitting room.
“I’ve been meaning to
ask, what brought you to town exactly?”
“A death in the family. I was asked to come look after this place.”
“That’s odd. This place is usually empty around this time of year. Winter can get quite cold, but Spring seems to be coming in right on time.”
“I think the last of it came down on my head last night.”
“Got caught in rain?”
“Yeah, I looked like like I’d just done laps in a pool. Which wouldn’t have been that bad but I was in an accident earlier on.”
“So that’s where the shiner came from.”
“I blew a tire and went straight into the guardrail.”
“Nasty. Did you want me to take a look at your car? I’m guessing it’s the one out front with the missing front spoiler?”
“What, you fix cars now too?”
“Round here, if we didn’t have cars, there would be far too much sheep shaggin’.”
Skye’s mouth dropped open in honest shock.
“Skye, I’m kidding.” Skye’s eyes narrowed in distrust but she finally tasted his sarcasm.
“And anyways, why waste time chasing livestock around with so many good-looking relatives just down the road?”
Skye burst out with laughter.
“So that’s why you haven’t got a girlfriend.”
“Either that or I don’t like girls.”
He looked straight at her and time stopped. From the moment Skye had met him she had, albeit futilely, attempted to not be taken by his charm, and wit, and the way his eyes were honest, and that cute thing his hair did when it settled on the side of his head. STOP IT! Skye quickly gathered herself.
“Yeah, I wouldn’t date girls either. They are crazy.”
Tanner had noticed her momentarily lapse but decided not to mention it.
“And what about you? I would wager a career-oriented girl like yourself would be single. No time for the lads.”
Skye hadn’t thought about Andrew since leaving the city and even though she wanted to feel guilty, the truth was, she didn’t. Their relationship had endured because they were of the same breed, from the same stable, but the reality was they were together because it made sense, not because of love.
“Actually, I’m with the perfect guy.” A lifetime passed. “I just don’t like him all that much.”
She hadn’t been honest in years and the weight of choices suddenly lifting from her chest made her breathe deeply.
“So, why are you with him then?”
The next answer came without much thought, her filters still down from her previous admission.
“He was who everyone wanted, so I had to have him.”
“Must be one hell of a guy if everyone wants him.”
“He is. Model looks, but not a dick about them. MBA and well on his way to an income most wives would dream to be attached to. He even cooks for Christ’s sake.”
“A shame he isn’t gay.”
“What’s funny is that I think he just might be.”
Tanner chuckled, but not with any sarcasm.
“I suppose it is better than no one at all.”
Skye hadn’t really looked at him during her revelations but as he said this, she looked up at him, and for the first time he appeared younger than he ever had.
“Single, hey?”
Tanner cracked a smile as though someone had told a joke an awkward father makes at the toast of his daughter’s wedding.
“Always have been.”
Skye stopped for an entire moment.
“You can’t be serious? You’re gorgeous. Handy with a wrench and a cooking spoon. And you have to be one of the nicest people I’ve ever met. What’s the problem?”
Tanner looked at her warmly, flattered by the compliments but knew the reality of the situation.
“My dad wasn’t the biggest fan of my lifestyle choice, so when I came out, he tried to kick me out of the house. I was sixteen. Mum wouldn’t have any of it and told him that he could leave. So he did.”
All around Skye, her sky fell.
“I’m so sorry, Tanner.”
“It’s okay, it was a while ago. It’s just hard to meet people in this town and I can’t really leave my mum by herself, even though she constantly tries to make me.”
Skye smiled warmly.
“Smart woman.”
“I know, but if it wasn’t for me, she wouldn’t be alone.”
“Hey, that was his choice, not yours.”
“That’s what my mum tries to tell me but the reality is, if I wasn’t the way I am, he would still be around.”
Skye searched her memories for anything of her father but every birthday cake and parent-teacher interview had only her mother’s face in it. Her chest begun to heave as she slowly began to crack.
“That’s his fucking loss then!”
Tanner looked at her, then leaned forward and they embraced.
Child-sized doors.
Skye held the door to the cottage open as Tanner stood on the other side saying his goodbyes. A night filled with unplanned anecdotes, unsatisfied dreams and frequently full wine glasses left them far more comfortable with each other than had been predicted, and now it was ending. His departure partly resembled the solemn goodbyes felt by the last youths standing at a Saturday night party that had seen the Sunday morning sun rise over the roofs of annoyed neighbours. They made the same promises too, ones that came from full hearts and endless futures, and that quietly disappear on Monday mornings. Skye swore she would come back to the little town to visit Tanner, though she never did. And Tanner, whilst staring out from the front step of the cottage, swore he’d come to the city and be introduced to all it had to offer. In reality he wouldn’t leave the town til his mother’s death, a month before he would turn thirty-six. Skye watched him walk away and was dizzy on happiness and alcohol. She closed the door and promptly collapsed on the couch.
Her sleep was deep, like the water in the middle of an ocean. She remembered no dreams and for the second day in a row woke with a hunger that lead primitive man to insanely approach much larger, meatier mammals with malicious intent. She wandered into the kitchen and found the recipe for oats on the 1950’s General Electric fridge. She placed it in plain sight in the middle of the table and begun gathering the necessary items. First she got a fire going over the stove and placed a large cast iron pot on top. The flames licked the sides as she poured the water in and brought it to the boil. She carefully added the oats but not by measuring it with scales, or scooping it with a cup. She poured it freely, letting some innate force guide her and stop when it told her there was enough. Maternally she kept vigil over the meal, noticing the small changes and variations that occurred with pressure and time. The oats softened and then clumped together, many small oats becoming one large mass of them. She pinched some salt over the contents, stirred it off the sides and brought the wooden spoon to her lips and tasted. Warmth washed over her as the flavour filled her mouth. It was good in the way a large blanket is on a cold winter’s night, heavy and comforting. She turned the heat down low and took a fresh sheet from the notepad on the fridge. On it she left a note for her aunt who would be arriving later that afternoon.
Skye moved through the house and up the stairs. She collected her collection from around the washbasin. Some of the items had dried overnight but many were far too damaged to be used again. Skye packed them away all the same whilst barely acknowledging what they were. Instead her eyes gazed longingly out of the window across the overgrown backyard and into the lonesome trees behind the house. They were large, solitary sentinels, standing well apart from one another across a barren plain. The hard ground beneath was burnt and nothing of substance was able to grow, apart from small gatherings of shrubs that peaked through cracks of broken dirt. Skye fixated on a large dead dog-tree that had no leaves and stood atop a small rise. It had ashen skin from surviving fires that left it naked, but it stood with an inherent dignity, its branches raised high to the heavens. Skye’s eyes fell fr
om it and she zipped up her bag and made her way out of the room.
On one side of the hallway stood Skye, her overnight bag tucked under one arm, and on the other side of the hallway was the child-sized door. Skye looked at it more closely than she had earlier, noticing how light it seemed, as though it wouldn’t take much to open it. It was wooden but the brown tone was a lighter shade, the colour of stuffed bears that have button eyes and that sit on made-up beds. She crossed the hall and reached for the small brass handle. It turned easily, barely latched into the frame, and swung open. The interior was illuminated by the mid-morning sun, a shaft of light revealing friendly particles of dust slow-dancing with unseen atoms. A desk, neatly kept, adorned the closest wall. It was covered in all the tools to allow legendary battles, mythical adventures and heroic deeds to occur, if only across its ordinary surface. A bookshelf held the annals of other tales and other tools for their telling. Against the far wall a child’s bed sat waiting far too long for the imprints of a boundless imagination. The room was a reliquary and Skye was unable to step in. Her mother, like her, was an only child. Skye’s head dropped and she turned away from the room, pulling the door light brown door closed behind her.
What window?
She moved through the cottage, silently saying goodbye to each room. She exited the house the same way she had entered it, via the backdoor, the sun streaming through the missing window pane alongside it. She rounded the house along the side and glimpsed her beaten up little car. Her hand instinctively rubbed the bump, bruising, and dried blood over her eye. She winced a little but swallowed most of the pain.
“Looks like we both might have a scar or two to show from our little trip.” She told the black little box.
She walked around to the boot, raised the lid and stowed away her things, not making a fuss about the lining of the travel bag. The car started with a smoker’s cough but when it found its breath, it showed signs of Tanner’s promise. She set off away from her grandmother’s house at a stroll. She passed the town’s grocery store, and almost stopped to say goodbye to her newly found friend, but as she peered in, there was a different person wearing his green apron and manning the counter.
“Maybe he wasn’t even real and this is all a fairy tale.” She mused as she edged her foot down on the accelerator and headed out of town.
As it disappeared in her rearview mirror, her purse erupted. Text message after text message turned her iPhone into a blur and the opening to Daft Punk’s summer club anthem into an inane looping guitar strum. Skye thrust her hand into the bag and fished out the mobile but before she could adjust it in her hand, it shook itself free and slid between the middle console and the seat. Reactively Skye swore whilst bending to the side and shoving her hand down into the tiny space. For a fraction of a second all she was able to see through the windscreen was blue sky, and then the loud noise came. Skye screamed as she removed her hand from the gap and clutched both of them to the steering wheel. Her eyes searched for the source of the noise but there was no one around. She took several deep breaths and let the phone buzz itself out from under her seat. She retrieved it and started typing in Andrew. Her thumb hovered