Fragments of Life

By Anita R Gibbons

This story is in a sense a complex tale that commences at the end. It relates the tale of a developing rocky love affair between its two major characters as they each discover their capacity to fall in love with another woman, the charting of which is seen through the eyes of the survivor.

Maggie Cameron is a thirtysomething single mother who has already established a moderately successful publishing business in Vancouver, Canada. She is also struggling to cope with the strain of a failing marriage and the needs of her growing daughter. Then into her life enters Carla Green as her young personal assistant.

Carla quickly becomes an invaluable player in Maggies business and family life. Then everything moves smoothly for a number of years until the confluence of two major events brings their developing relationship to a climax.

Carla is forced to confront the reemergence of her childhood demons on two fronts when a previous illness brings her mortality into question again. Maggie undertakes to publish a lesbian-focused story by a well-respected novelist under an assumed name. Maggie is deeply worried about the latter even after Carla offers to play a role in addressing her major concerns. However, it is of even greater concern to both Maggie and her daughter, Stephanie, now in her teens, that Carlas shattering prognosis will have severe repercussions on their developing comfortable family relationship.

By way of devising a coping strategy, Maggie and Stephanie begin plotting a way to make Carlas impending death as happy as possible for all concerned. However, Carla seems to be rejecting all their efforts until an opportunity emerges for Stephanie to spend part of her upcoming school holiday in France. After considerable persuasion, Carla finally agrees to accompany them on their planned grand tour of Europe. Hence, although the story is set primarily in Vancouver, Canada, it also incorporates their travels across Europe.

As they all set about arranging for and planning their holiday itinerary, Carla is also trying to address her long-held concerns about her own sexuality. She eventually discloses her fears to Maggie, whose initial reaction is less than positive, particularly as Carla also soon expresses her deep feelings for her boss.

This unexpected development causes Maggie to also attempt an analysis of her own deepening feelings for Carla, but before she is able to draw any conclusions, an event immediately preceding their departure seemingly dooms whatever future their relationship might hold.

The saga then proceeds as a mini travelogue covering their adventures in France. Indeed, it is only when Maggie and Carla, having deposited Stephanie with her troublesome father, set off on their own adventure to Italy that they begin to address the changing nature of their relationship.

It is only when they reach the idyllic setting of the small coastal village of Positano that Maggie finally gives in to the perceived pressure from Carla and finally admits to herself that she has irrevocably fallen totally in love with Carla. However, more problems emerge as they grapple with the issue of Maggies willingness to share her newfound knowledge with Stephanie and the outside world in general.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris AU
• Release date: Jan 23, 2017
• ISBN: 9781524515867

Anita R Gibbons

After she was born in the United Kingdom, Anita’s family moved to Australia when she was still quite young. She studied her BA (sociology/politics) and MA (women’s studies) at Victoria’s Monash University. She met her life partner at age twenty, and they spent thirty-seven years together in their small home in the inner suburbs of Melbourne. They both enjoyed traveling, sailing, and sharing their time with an array of pet cats. Her writing has consisted of short stories, poetry, and articles for professional journals. Following her partner’s death in 2007, this novel finally burst out of its shackles. Her other major pastimes include presenting a weekly program for Melbourne community radio and still traveling whenever possible.

Book preview

Prologue

I t had been five quite eventful years since I first visited this idyllic spot. So many things had changed in my life during those intervening years that I had dared to hope this particular visit would prove to be less pai nful.

The weather was superb, as always, and the proprietors of my favoured Albergo welcomed me in their familiar warm fashion. They had arranged for me to have my usual room; although it seemed larger and less inviting than ever before. As I walked into the room I noticed that its original cornflower blue decor had been reinstated and I once again had to swallow a painful lump in my throat. Thus far the distress associated with my visits seemed as great as usual. I headed straight to the small village of Positano, to make final plans for my voyage out into the Bay of Salerno the following day. After all, didn’t that represent the real purpose of my journey?

Feeling too depressed to inflict my company on anyone as yet— I had planned to partake of some pasta and a small bottle of wine in the Cafe Positano tavern, at the foot of the gigantic stairway connecting my hotel to the thoroughfare below. After unpacking my small bag of belongings, I headed down the labyrinthine stairway in the hope that I would be finished before the arrival of the nightly revellers. This plan proved quite disastrous. Eating alone is an unpleasant experience at the best of times, and I was quickly made conscious of the shroud of loneliness which enveloped me. Even the passing tourists seemed to be in pairs or groups. I hurriedly finished the meal and returned to the comfort of my balcony, hoping for a time to eliminate the tortuous world beyond. Such pain seemed totally incongruous with this spectacular view. I must have spent a couple of hours there trying to recapture some of the joy associated with our first visit and quietly contemplating the purpose of my journey— my proposed activities for tomorrow.

The warm Mediterranean sun had already begun its ascent over the Bay of Salerno as my chartered vessel chopped its way across the foam carpet towards the preordained spot at which I would pause to dispatch a single red rose.

On this, my fourth pilgrimage, my mind began to again wander aimlessly between present and past. However all thought was soon overtaken by the feelings of anguish I always associated with my visits here over the most recent of the preceding years. Somehow this occasion seemed even more poignant. Perhaps my emotions were heightened by the belief that this trip may very well have to be my last. I suppose it was because this was the first time I had returned alone, that is without my daughter to share my journey— that only added to my overwhelming feelings of melancholy. For the first time the thought of my daughter Stephanie’s impending marriage brought with it a degree of inexplicable sadness.

I had by now become accustomed to the emotional torrent I would endure as we neared Carla’s last resting place. The brilliance of the September sun, helped explain my need to don sunglasses which had served me well in the past, hiding the tears that I knew would inevitably come. Once again I felt the familiar lump forming in my throat and the irrational feeling of anxiety which was always its accompaniment.

My attention was soon recaptured by the boat’s sudden reduction in speed, and I knew instinctively that we were nearing the spot that was the focus of my journey. The thought of Carla lying somewhere deep below reawakened my feelings of frustration and anger at my never having been able to tell her of the visionary part she had played in my life. I prayed that thanks to her such an inadequacy would never befall me again. I was however still persecuted by the thought that now was the time to finally close the book upon what had been the most inspiring interlude of my life.

At this point I recalled something that she had once said about always being available to me. I revisited those many occasions when I had been wandering aimlessly along some distant thoroughfare and felt her presence beside me; seemingly closer than anyone living. My present torment was somehow diminished by such remembrances.

It was then that I determined to capture what I had known of her and to share that knowledge and my pride in having had her in my life -- with anyone who cared to read this story. Yes, it was at last time to try and write this book. Surprisingly my recollections were strong enough to recall with a considerable degree of accuracy the numerous conversations we had shared in our fragments of life!

Chapter One

O n numerous occasions over the past five years I had felt my life was far too dependent on Carla Green. Indeed sometimes I feel a distinct lack of any reality in my life before I met her. Apart from proving to be a real boon in helping me to build this small publishing company into a successful operation, she had become particularly indispensable in assisting me to raise my then seven year old daughter Stephanie. Of course I had known from Carla’s first day what a help she would be to the struggling business. However it was not until some months later that I realized how invaluable her contribution would be in establishing a routine that enabled me to successfully balance the demands of a growing business, with the far more important demands of my young daughter. Somehow Carla seemed to know instinctively what Stephanie and I needed to help us survive the upheaval of a marriage that had simply but painfully withered away. Now this! It seemed as though fate was determined to deal me another dreaded dose of pain and suffering. I knew that today’s disagreeable news, and the manner in which Carla had imparted it, would remain etched in my mind for a long time to come.

It was just after two o’clock when Carla had walked into my office to offer me one months notice. I was dumbfounded. What on earth could I have done? I had to know why. After the event, I came to regret having pushed her to explain. She took a long breath and allowed her glistening eyes to meander around my office, finally settling upon the cluttered bookcase to her left. Her response was so totally unexpected that even now her words continued to echo in my brain: It seems as though I am suffering from an inoperable dose of Cancer and may only have a few months left to live. I thought it was about time I started to cancel myself out of any long-term commitments, and I wanted to make sure you had enough time to find a suitable replacement.

Surely my ears were failing me! I could not believe that Carla had been aware of this problem without mentioning it to me before now. I was irritated by the nonchalant manner in which she had chosen to break this news. Then, as I looked over to where she sat I noticed that her hands were clenched so tightly that her knuckles had begun to blanch and tears were swelling her eyes. She must have only just heard the news herself! I felt guilty at having imagined that she would not have told me.

As soon as I was able to force my jelly-like legs to move, I crossed the room and put my arm around her shoulder. I desperately wanted to offer her some solace and support, but the ache in the pit of my stomach rendered me totally inadequate. After a few moments of silence I managed to persuade her to take the rest of the day off, and go home.

After she had gone I tried to continue with the manuscript I had been reading, but I still couldn’t get my brain to function properly. My mind flashed to poor Stephanie, (soon to become a teenager). I knew it would be even harder for her to cope with this news. She would have to accept the loss of the closest friend she had made in the entirety of her short life. Then, perhaps I was wrong, maybe my own loss would be greater. After all wasn’t my loss of Carla a serious threat to my future success. Sometimes my egocentricity astounds even me. What about poor Carla? How must she be feeling? No, I cannot spend time on such thoughts now. There is no answer there, only pain. Especially as she seemed to wish to face her inevitable life climax - so completely alone! Almost instantly I became aware of a purpose to my meandering thoughts. It was time for me to be more decisive; and being so, I was determined that Carla would not be allowed to face this all on her own.

I decided that I would also go home and attempt to explain everything to Stephanie. Surely between us we could come up with a plan that would ensure that whatever time Carla had left would be spent in some way that would be both happy and fruitful for her. I quickly cleared my desk, explained what had happened to Marsha, and added that I was also leaving for the day but could be contacted at home. As I headed for the car park I glanced down at my watch, and was surprised to see that only forty minutes had elapsed since Carla had sheepishly entered my office to impart her news. Since then time seemed to have lost its proportion.

Could Carla have possibly presumed that leaving would also release her from what had become a close familial relationship? Stephanie would certainly want to be able to spend even more time with her now. Yet knowing Carla as I do, I felt sure that getting her to agree to any such suggestion would be far from easy.

Whilst driving slowly home the more devious side of my mind began crystallizing the seeds of an idea which seemed foolproof. Next Thursday was to be Stephanie’s thirteenth birthday, and this offered the perfect opportunity to put the idea to Carla that she should pack up her belongings and move in with us!

As soon as I had crossed Lions Gate and turned right I became aware that my vision was beginning to blur and pulling the car towards the curb I felt a drop of moisture strike the back of my left hand. How foolish I felt to be crying. Yet surely I was allowed to at least do that. It was as if the full impact of Carla’s news was suddenly taking effect and overwhelming me. I gave in and sobbed uncontrollably for what seemed like an eon.

Once I had again established control over this unusual kaleidoscope of emotions, I became bemused by the thought that I had not felt so emotionally drained since the night my fated marriage had finally ended. I wondered why such a parallel existed in my mind! Perhaps it was the realization that I would once again have to confront Stephanie with a similar tale of desertion. Yet I was also conscious of the sense of my own loss; it was as if losing Carla, would inflict a far more potent pain than even Steven’s departure had done. Again I found myself wondering why? Surely it was only a reflection of the suddenness of it all.

I had known for months that Steven would leave. But now there was the absolute finality of Carla’s departure; she would die, never to share our lives again. Finally there was also an element of guilt for me to deal with. Hadn’t I known for the past few weeks that Carla had been suffering? Yet even while I had been concerned, I had allowed her to continue carrying the dual burdens of work and assisting me to organise my own life.

Perhaps it would have been more courteous to have taken a greater interest in the state of her health, but intrusive curiosity hasn’t exactly been my style. Having always been fairly reserved, I could argue that I simply overly respected her degree of reserve and hesitancy to complain. Hence I could not, even now, claim any true understanding of her needs. I was however quite certain that the demands I had unintentionally placed upon her over the years, had played a significant part in the deterioration of her health.

I sat quietly in the car for a little longer wanting to ensure that my composure was fully restored before I continued my journey home. This time as I set off along the familiar route, my mind careened back to the very first day that Carla had entered my office and my life.

*     *     *

I knew I desperately needed a secretary that was capable of helping me to run my business; but after seven disastrous interviews I had decided that the sort of person I was looking for—just did not exist. Steven had just finished haranguing me on the telephone, when Marsha, my receptionist escorted the next interviewee into the office with the simple statement; This is Carla Green. She was an incredibly attractive woman perhaps still in her late twenties, definitely a few years younger than my current thirty-three. Slightly shorter than I (at around 5'4"), with thick blonde hair cut fairly short but well styled to suit her rather intriguing face. She certainly had a firm handshake, and as we shook hands I noticed her fingers were almost insanely long and seemed at odds with her small body frame.

At first she seemed quite confident and relaxed and as I motioned her to sit she displayed the most contagious smile whilst sinking into the chair across from me. As she settled and smoothed her pencil grey skirt she quickly gazed around my office and her appraisal seemed to impress. Then as her stunning grey-blue eyes caught my gaze it felt as if they were enticing lagoons that made you feel like jumping in and letting them wash over you. Of course the fact that they too exuded an aura of confidence had me suddenly believing that my frustrating search may finally be over. I became even more comfortable and relaxed as the interview progressed until the most amazing thing happened.

Suddenly her confident exterior began to noticeably crumble as I started to question her about specific details of her previous work experience. She had rather nervously cleared her throat and said: Well I have never actually worked as a secretary before. I was a receptionist for a Doctor for a couple of years, and I am currently working as an accounts clerk. Her honesty had taken me quite by surprise and I found myself losing direction for a time. I was sure that my disappointment was visible as it was some time before she continued with a slight stutter: b…but I have been studying shorthand, and will be f…finishing my course next week. Then she leaned across and handed me some references which I quickly glanced over before placing them on my desk.

I looked increasingly closely at the unusual women seated across from me and thought to myself she is really quite pleasant on the eye and could probably do the job, but her lack of experience might just be too great a risk. As if capable of mind-reading Carla physically shrank under my gaze and her expansive smile faded as her eyes dropped to the papers cluttering my desk.

I tried desperately to hide my dismay in drawing our interview to a close. I rose and extended my hand saying: Thank you Ms Green for coming along today, I still have a couple of other people to interview but I will get back to you by the end of the week.

As she started to leave she smiled broadly; once again lighting up her distinctive features – she appeared calmer now her ordeal was over. Her confident air had almost returned and I felt a little guilty as she thanked me for my time. After she had gone I found myself thinking What an enigma she is, it might have been quite interesting getting to know her better.

I was late getting home that evening and was feeling particularly weary and irritable. The one thing I really didn’t need was another quarrel with Steven. But as his first response to my arrival was to snap: So when is your new secretary starting then? I began mentally preparing myself for the inevitable confrontation. By way of buying myself some extra time I said; Can we discuss that later? Is Stephanie still up?

Of course she is. Just because I had to postpone another client briefing to pick her up from school and feed her, doesn’t mean I think she shouldn’t see her mother at all today!

I fought my instinct to strike back and said; I’m afraid that I have had a particularly trying day today and I would appreciate it if you allow me to get Stephanie settled for the night before you start arguing with me.

With this initial outburst aside he seemed to calm down and as he went across to the bar to pour himself another drink he asked if he could get me something, but I was already on my way to find Stephanie so just replied that I would get my own later.

Mummy, I thought it was you Stephanie cried as she hurtled down the stairs to greet me. Yes honey, but it is way past your bedtime already and as much as I hate having to be a grump I really think you ought to go to bed now.

Daddy said that it was alright for me to wait up until you got home but he wasn’t in a very good mood, so I have just been watching TV in your room, while I waited.

As I got Stephanie into bed and started organising her clothes for the next day I began to wonder whether Steven hadn’t been contriving to make me feel guilty. I knew I shouldn’t let him do this to me after all it was not so unusual these days for married women to also have a career. Any doubts I had about my husband’s compliance in my feelings of guilt were clarified by Stephanie’s next comment.

I think that Daddy must be angry with you again. He said that he didn’t think you really wanted a Secretary anyway, because then you would not have an excuse for not spending more time at home with us. Don’t you like being with us anymore?

I quickly left what I was doing and went across to hug her saying; Surely you can’t believe that? You know that things have been getting very busy at the office lately, and it is because I want to be with you more regularly that I have been trying to hire a secretary to help me. It’s just that finding the right sort of person is just not as easy as your Daddy seems to think. I pulled the eiderdown up to her chin and kissed her worried brow as I added Anyway I am going to take you to school in the morning, and afterwards I will pick you up and take you into the office for a while. Won’t that be fun? You can help me to get finished early.

As I went back downstairs I tried hard to control my rising anger, I knew that it wouldn’t help me to cope with Steven in his current mood. When I had poured myself a drink I sat down across the other side of the room. I noticed that he seemed to have calmed down considerably, and decided to take a punt that he had managed to get his temper under control.

You seem not to appreciate just how difficult it is to get someone with suitable experience, and also has the right personality to deal with some pretty difficult clients.

Steven’s response amazed me. Why is experience so important? After all it seems to me that what you really want is more of a Girl Friday than a proper secretary.

I simply answered: Even Girl Friday’s need experience. But to my utter surprise he continued with his unusual line of reasoning saying: You know what you actually need is someone that can help share your entire workload. Marsha could quite easily handle the secretarial work if she didn’t also have to help with the bookkeeping, arrange your appointments and more importantly protect you from half your clients. I think you simply need to find an all-round assistant with the capacity to do all those things plus help you decide whether books are worth publishing. It seems to me that straight potential and the right personality is far more important than secretarial experience.

It was incredible that such a comment should come from my ultra conservative lawyer of a husband who had always refused to back anything that wasn’t an absolute certainty. Yet here he was asking me to take an incredible risk. Perhaps Steven simply had a vested interest in my employing someone/anyone, but there was something in what he said that struck a chord in my mind. I started to picture Ms Carla Green in the role that he had just described. Indeed the more I thought about it the more I came to like the idea. By the time I crawled into bed that night I had decided to offer the job to Carla, even if it seemed like a mighty risk and an admission he was right.

*     *     *

As I pulled the car into the driveway I recalled the enthusiasm with which Carla had accepted my modified job offer, and the phenomenal effort that she has put into the role ever since. I crawled stiffly from the car and took a deep breath as I again braced myself to break Carla’s news to Stephanie.

When I entered the house its awkward silence had the effect of stirring me from my trancelike state. I called to Stephanie but there was no response. A fleeting moment of panic abated only when I again looked at my watch. It was not yet three-thirty and Stephanie would still be at school. I had about another hour before I would have to confront her and I decided that a stiff drink was in order. I poured myself a brandy and sank down into the sofa. Would tonight simply be a replay of that dreadful evening over four years ago Stephanie had been quite inconsolable then. Of course it wouldn’t, I thought answering my own rhetorical question. Stephanie was lot more mature now, and perhaps losing Carla wasn’t quite the same as losing her father.

Nevertheless I found my thoughts constantly wanting to return to that previous occasion when my desire to have a successful career seemed equally doomed.

*     *     *

The final split had occurred only three weeks after spending a weekend alone together at the cottage we often escaped to near Squamish. I knew this time away represented our final attempt to save our failing marriage. We had both invested a great deal in the last twelve years or so and neither one of us wanted to let go lightly. Carla had agreed to look after Stephanie for three days which enabled us to have the time to try and sort things out together.

I was anxious about leaving Stephanie behind at such a time as she was quite aware of what had been going on, and I felt that she had a genuine stake in the weekend’s outcome. It was however also quite obvious that she was quite fond of Carla, and Steven managed to convince me everything would be all right. I finally agreed to go but not without some reservations.

We did manage to enjoy some of our time away together and occasionally I allowed myself to try and recapture the happiness I had felt at having captured his attention after our first meeting at an old school reunion. He had been by far the most handsome man in his group, and I was so impressed by his confident swagger and meticulous dress sense. Nevertheless I recall being quite surprised when he later asked for my phone number! What on earth might make him believe that this ‘plain jane’ of barely twenty was worth spending any more time with? Now here he was again being as attentive as possible, and even getting me thinking that perhaps we could recapture our past enjoyment of simply being together.

I suspect Steven came back convinced that everything had been resolved. However, as we travelled back I could not assuage an increasing doubt that our marriage could possibly survive much longer. All we had discovered was that we could still enjoy each others company free of the pressures of daily living. But every time I had attempted to discuss our problems he had said only that I was ‘spoiling the atmosphere’. Consequently we returned having to my mind, resolved nothing.

I had already begun to prepare myself, believing that our apparent `understanding’ would not last long, when the time of Steven’s eventual departure finally arrived. Hence it was not the devastating shock for me that it might have been. However my pre-knowledge was hardly enough to help poor Stephanie understand, especially as I had gone to great lengths to conceal my foreboding from her.

*     *     *

Well at least I was certain of one thing. This time Stephanie must not be sheltered from the truth, she must be told today! Anyway wasn’t she almost a teenager now? It was not as if Carla was deserting us from any conscious choice to do so. Surely all these factors would make the news that much easier for Stephanie to accept. However I still harboured a nagging suspicion that it was not going to be easy; perhaps this feeling was based on my own hesitance in accepting the fact.

It all seemed so bloody unjust. Over the past few years Carla had managed to do so much with her life. She had grown enormously as a person and seemed far less dubious of her own worth than on that first day we met. Even the company’s future was now looking particularly bright, due in no small amount to her own contribution. Now this! I was deeply concerned about Carla, and how she would cope with her prognosis. Would she really seek to withdraw from the people around her; it certainly seemed like that was what she planned. Even people like Stephanie and I, who had come to care very much for her.

At that point my thoughts were disturbed by the sound of Stephanie’s voice. Hey Mum I’m glad you’re home already. Carla came to pick me up and said she could stay for tea if that is Okay?

As I fought to gather my senses, Carla calmly strolled in and said, I hope you don’t mind, we were going to fix tea as a surprise for you. I didn’t think that you would be home already. She smiled knowingly at me and added, I am in no particular rush to get home tonight.

My initial thought was that maybe I had misjudged Carla. Perhaps she would turn to her friends after all. But then I thought that she might have deliberately planned this intrusion to stop me telling Stephanie about her plight.

I wanted so much to react with anger if only to try to release some of the knotted emotions niggling away at my `gut’. Luckily I was able to stifle the torrent and just said: Of course it’s alright for you to stay, but I will cook tea – so you two can just relax. I needed to get out of the room as quickly as possible for it felt as if the built-up tension was going to choke me.

No. I had planned to make this a special evening and I think that calls for my more exotic culinary skills. I have already got the ingredients and Stephanie has agreed to help. Besides I want something to do at the moment; she added with a wink as she headed straight for the kitchen with Stephanie in hot pursuit. I thought I might as well give in for the time being. Things seemed to be getting out of hand but I felt peculiarly unable to take any sort of positive action. To be honest I did not know what to say or do. For all I was irritated by Carla’s intrusion, I began to think that perhaps it had been for the best. I needed to be certain I had my own feelings together before broaching the topic of Carla’s impending death with Stephanie.

Later that evening, after a delightful meal and packing Stephanie off to bed, Carla and I sat in front of the fire sipping from our respective glasses of port. I incredibly found myself suggesting that she should shift in permanently. As soon as I had suggested it I realised I had made a tactical error, she sat immobile for a long time before finally erupting with; I don’t want your pity Maggie.

I felt like I had just been slapped but couldn’t reverse what I had so foolishly set in motion. What makes you think I am suggesting you come and stay here out of pity? It simply seems more practical than your traipsing backwards and forwards all the time. I don’t know why I didn’t think of it sooner.

It is precisely because you didn’t that makes me suspect that you are only suggesting it now out of some misguided sympathy.

Look both Stephanie and I need you around; you already know that. I’m just saying that I would also feel a lot better about all this if I knew you were getting along okay. At least this way you would have people around who care very much about you at this time. I owe you that much surely.

Carla wrinkled her nose in a pained expression and said, I know that your motives may be grand, but…

I could feel myself being attacked and not responding too effectively, so I rudely interrupted with: Well I am not so sure what my motives are. Maybe I’m just being horribly selfish. There is any number of reasons why I might think it is a good idea, but I am pretty sure that pity does not rank very highly on the list.

All the same I’m afraid I just couldn’t accept your offer, at least not now. I need time to think, to sort myself out. I need to be ready to handle this; and having somewhere of my own to escape to will help me do that.

Aren’t you at all afraid of dying, wouldn’t you prefer to have caring friends around?

I don’t really think I am afraid, the seasons come and go so must we all. But you are right I wouldn’t want to be alone when the time comes. It’s just that at the moment I want some time to prepare myself and I don’t want to inflict any suffering on my friends while I do that. If I lose a few friends in the meantime then so be it.

For Christ sake Carla I didn’t mean to imply I wouldn’t stand by you whatever you decide. I know I am not handling this too well but if it is time you want then just take a rain-check. Only don’t reject the idea out of hand.

Agreed, now on that note I think I should say we’ve exhausted the topic, and it’s about time I made tracks.

I grudgingly complied and saw her off home. But it was in a state of unresolved turmoil that I eventually crawled into my own bed that night.

The following morning I knew that as unprepared as I was, I must face Stephanie and do what I had been dreading since yesterday. As I had neither the means nor the desire to avoid it any longer I sat her next to me on the sofa to discuss `something important’. After all my attempts to carefully plan this moment, my brain deserted me and I was only capable of blurting out everything as it had happened on the previous day. The story just poured out of my mouth unguided. I was aware of nothing beyond Stephanie’s eyes getting steadily wider and the colour draining from her face. I fought to control my own tears until I heard her whimper No, not Carla, it can’t be true. then I pulled her towards me and wrapped her safely in my arms. While her whole body shook with her sobs, I rocked her gently and allowed myself to weep silently along with her.

It was sometime later before we were again able to talk calmly, and I told her of my plan to get Carla to move in with us. I also filled her in on how badly I had handled things last night. Together we agreed that it would be best to wait until Stephanie’s birthday party before raising the issue again. I was surprised by Stephanie’s request to talk to Carla herself. Yet the more I thought about it the more it seemed like the right idea. Besides after last night’s hatchet job I was in no position to argue, and Stephanie would have a few days to prepare herself for the task. I finally gave in to her wishes.

Today being the final Saturday before the party I had decided to try and do some pre-party shopping, there was still time but I was worried about leaving Stephanie on her own. She must have read my mind and said I have to clean my room today so could you get me a nice card for Carla while you’re out shopping. I want to prepare a special message for her.

As I left the house that morning I realised how much my little girl was growing up, and I felt quite unashamedly proud of her. Our pact did not however force the problem from my mind and as I drove to the shops I found my thoughts returning to stew over Carla’s apparent stubbornness. `What on earth was the matter with her? What was wrong with shifting in with Stephanie and I? After all, the house was certainly big enough to allow her plenty of space to herself. And hadn’t she virtually been living there on and off over the past four years anyway? We already knew one another very well and had shown how compatible we all were. Surely it was a better option than staying in her little flat and growing increasingly more withdrawn and depressed. I soon realised the plan was beginning to sound obsessive and my fuddled mind was incapable of comprehending this obsession. Could it even be that Carla was perhaps a little right, would I have ever thought of asking her if not out of some sense of duty? I honestly didn’t know.

I did know however that her only family lived around seven hundred miles away in Calgary and she had already admitted she wasn’t going to tell her sister anything about her illness. Maybe all I was trying to do was adopt the role her family would want to play had they been here and aware of what was happening. Whatever, it seemed that all this conjecture was providing no practical solution to my problem; I would have to try to force it from my mind until Thursday.

Chapter Two

T he rapidity with which the day of Stephanie’s party descended upon us was awesome. Not that I hadn’t been extremely grateful at being able to spend the last few days in a state of suspended animation. It had certainly provided a brief respite from my urge to confront Carla again. I was sure that Stephanie’s plan would be successful in getting Carla to reconsider her decision. Although I felt like I had been in limbo, my subconscious was acutely aware of the need not to say or do anything which could prove to be totally counterproductive. Even last night, when Carla had called by to help with some of the preparations, both Stephanie and I managed to carefully avoid the temptation to prematurely raise the subject a gain.

For all I had encouraged Stephanie to invite as many of her friends as she wished, she preferred to limit the gathering to a small select group of particular friends. Steven and his friend Linda arrived at about seven-thirty by which time I was already well and truly caught up in trying to address the various needs of our guests. Luckily most of the group were from Stephanie’s dance and drama classes, and seemed quite capable of providing their own entertainment. Carla had been commandeered and taken off to meet Stephanie’s friends. She seemed very relaxed, and managed to slip easily into the typical teenage party conversations. I suppose they felt it was better than having a real parent underfoot. Consequently I found myself spending a great deal of time in the kitchen, wondering whether I was being really productive or simply keeping out of the way.

Steven had seemed a little on edge most of the night and I was not surprised when he followed me into the kitchen, and asked if we could talk alone for a few moments. Whatever it was sounded ominous, but I was unable to think of any polite way to refuse.

I wanted to let you know that Linda and I are getting married at the end of the month.

Congratulations, she seems like a lovely person, I really hope things work out better for you this time!

Thank you, but that isn’t all I wanted to talk to you about. I felt my initial trepidation starting to return as he continued. I had thought that it would be nice to spend more time with Stephanie now that I can offer her a more stable environment.

I haven’t stopped you from seeing her whenever you wanted to have I? So why the dramatics now? I asked in a rather defensive manner.

I didn’t mean to upset you. It’s just that Linda cannot have any children of her own and I thought it would be nice if we could organise to share Stephanie more equitably from now on, that’s all.

Are you asking if Stephanie can come and live with you for a while? And if so, how long are we talking about? There is her schooling to consider!

Steven sighed and propped himself up against the table. "I suspect I am not handling this too well. You see even I am not certain at this stage what I am asking for. I think perhaps we should reach some interim agreement then just play things by ear to see how it works out. The real difficulty is that the partnership wants me to start up their new office in