Sigh of Relief

Chapter 6

Noah

I end up leaving the house hours before I planned to. Because I panicked. Practically running out of the house. I started rambling, for fuck's sake. I'm usually great at getting to know new people but it's like all my conversation skills went out the window.

Looking back, the normal thing to do would have been to leave Nila alone and I know I'm not going to stop replaying how I embarrassed myself.

I start the drive to Evan's house, the journey from the new house now muscle memory with how often I visit him. I'll take any opportunity to see my niece and nephew, but after the roller-coaster the past few years have been, I think my brother has needed me a lot more than I did growing up.

I remember the day Mei died like it happened yesterday – not just receiving the news and the grief, but what I ate in the morning, the suit I chose, the spreadsheet I was making before I rushed to the hospital, the doctor's exact expression as she came out of the operating theatre, down to her slightly red eyes. I know a lot of people block out memories like these, and even though it was my first time experiencing a loss so close to home, I remember every single detail. And I hate it.

I need a drink.

_____

Evan opens the door to see me and rolls his eyes in feigned annoyance.

"You, again? Have you run out of interns to terrorise?"

"Very funny. Move out of the way," I deadpan, giving him a shove as I pass him, "where's my favourite niece?"

We head into his living room, and I dump myself on his couch, propping my feet up on his coffee table like it's mine. I'm the younger sibling, so it's technically my responsibility to act like a brat no matter how old we get.

Evan kicks my feet off his precious glass table as he walks in the gap between it and the sofa. "Ma should be picking her up from daycare in about," he takes a glance at his watch, "Actually, now."

Jin, Evan's first child, is in Pre-K right now so I won't see him for the next few hours anyway.

"I guess there's no point in me being here then. Call me when they get back," I jest, pretending to stand up.

He shoves me back. "Sit down, you little shit. You want something to drink?" he asks.

"Something strong, please," I say, only half-joking.

"I'm not giving you anything with alcohol." Yeah, I know. "You're getting a glass of apple juice."

I grab the remote and turn on the TV. "Hockey or basketball?"

"Hockey. I downloaded Game 7 of Hurricanes vs Devils."

Evan comes out of the kitchen with two glasses of juice, a pack of chips and a bowl of popcorn carefully arranged on a tray – it's obvious who's the neater brother out of the two of us. He sets it down on the table, half occupied by my feet again, and takes a seat next to me.

"How's Thea?" he asks out of nowhere. It sounds like a totally innocent question, but his tone says otherwise.

"Just ask."

He sighs, turning to fully face me. I don't want to look defensive, I know that he's asking out of genuine concern, but I feel like talking about this kind of stuff makes it ... real. I'll admit its immature and dumb, but I'd rather just keep going with my rose-tinted glasses than be the first to bring into the open the cracks in my marriage.

"You know damn well what I'm worried about. How are things with Thea?"

Keeping my gaze fixed on the list of channels, I reply, "You're gonna have to be more specific."

I can sense his tentativeness, but he continues, "I told you before you moved that I thought it was a bad idea, imagine a baby on top of that." Ah. I guess he wasn't happy with the news I shared with him. "You avoid talking about this type of shit every time I bring it up."

"We're fine. We ain't on the same page all the time, that's it. Damn." I raise my voice, my accent coming out with the more frustrated I get.

"Not on the same page is an understatement."

"Evan." I turn and look at him, his hawk-like eyes narrowing as he assesses me. After a moment, he concedes and reaches forward to grab a handful of popcorn.

"Put the game on then."

_____

Nila

The first thought that crosses my mind when I see Mrs Kingston is wow – just like my reaction when I first met her husband.

Her burgundy suit still fits her slim frame perfectly after what must have been at least an 8-hour flight and not a single strand of her meticulously styled hair is out of place. It could be the self-assured way she carries herself or how her gaze is more welcoming than appraising, but I can just tell that it would be nice to hang around her. 

She stretches her hand out, her stance confident and unwavering, like she's never been turned down before.

"Hello. It's nice to finally meet you, Nila."

I shake her hand, wordlessly admiring her designed, well-manicured nails. "It's nice to meet you too, Mrs Kingston."

"Please, just call me Thea." This time I'm glad –I get the sense that she'd be offended if I called her ma'am.

I get back to wiping down the leather couch, my last task of the day, exhaustion already settling deep in my bones. I leave everyday feeling like I've been hit by a HGV, but I like  for the freedom cleaning gives me let myself think or sometimes, not think at all.

"I almost forgot, there's steak and potatoes in the fridge, if you're hungry."

"I had dinner on the plane but thank you." She pauses on the staircase and looks back. "I've heard your cooking is to die for though."

Oh.

Before she's able to reach the landing, the front door opens and Mr Kingston, or, I guess, Noah, walks in.

"Hey," he says to me.

I greet him with a nod before he follows his wife, who hasn't stopped or turned around at the sound of his voice.

"Hey, how was your flight?" Noah asks as he meets her on the second floor.

"Same old."

They're getting quieter now, as if they're walking towards their bedroom.

"And how's Ava?"

"She's doing well. Top of her maths class now."

I don't mean to eavesdrop, but if I'm already in the living room and their voices are within earshot, it's not my fault that I can hear their conversation.

A door closes and I can no longer hear a thing. It seems like they're talking about a kid, but he told me she was on a trip for work. Anyways, I don't put much thought into it. It's none of my business.

I move on to the last couch and then head to the kitchen to return the cleaning equipment. I pack my personal items and put my shoes on, but I hesitate before I leave. Do I go upstairs to say goodbye and potentially interrupt their chat, or do I just leave, which might come across as rude?

I'm saved from being forced to use my poor decision skills when Thea, still sounds weird in my mind, comes down the stairs dressed in green silk pyjamas, somehow still giving the impression of a woman about to walk down a runway.

"You're leaving already?"

"Yup. I just finished up with the living room."

"Oh. I was hoping we could get to know each other a little more." That explains her disappointed tone. "Never mind then. I hope you've been giving yourself time to rest, you look quite tired."

Why does everyone keep pointing that out?

"I have, I'm just getting back into the groove of things. I'll see you tomorrow though, hopefully."

Groove? Damn, this woman makes me nervous.