Page 13 of The Wish

It was his turn to cook tonight, and he made his usual fare of pasta bolognese, heaped with veggies and so much cheese it could never be called healthy.

But it was delicious – Mandy loved it when he cooked.

Carbs galore. But just like everything he did these days, his dinners were loaded with resentment and anger.

He acted sometimes like he was the only one affected by Jesse’s illness.

They had been a great team, once upon a time, parenting together effortlessly (it seemed from this vantage point) through sleepless nights, the terrible twos and countless everyday challenges, but now his emotions, his fury, were taking up all the space, burning up all the oxygen in the room.

It was tiring and unnecessary and she didn’t know how much longer she could cope with being his sparring partner.

Jesse and Sam were already sitting at the dining table, waiting to be served. Mandy jangled her keys. ‘Want to see my new ride?’

The kids gasped at each other with delighted, surprised looks on their faces.

Sam jumped away from the table, tearing through the door and taking the steps down to the driveway two at a time.

Jesse stood up more cautiously but no less enthusiastically, squeezing Mandy’s arm as she went by.

She was growing stronger, Mandy felt, but it was slow.

So much slower than Amy’s progress. She checked herself: she shouldn’t be comparing Jesse’s recovery with Amy’s.

They were two different girls with different battles to face.

Dean barred her way to the outside, arms folded across his chest. ‘So when were you going to talk to me about this “new ride”,’ he demanded, the last words laced heavily with sarcasm.

Mandy sighed. ‘We did talk about it, Dean.’

‘And I thought we agreed that now wasn’t the right time.’

‘We didn’t agree anything,’ Mandy was careful to keep her voice to a low hiss. ‘Yours is not the only opinion that matters in this house. I needed a new car, and we can afford it. I don’t see what your problem is.’

‘A black car? You said you wanted a black car.’

‘Oh, for goodness’ sake. You’re being ridiculous.’

She pushed past him and walked down to the car.

He was not going to spoil this for her, she wouldn’t let him.

She felt his presence behind her, heavy and dark, but focused instead on her children: Sam, lolling across the bonnet of the car as if hugging it; Jesse, standing a little way off, laughing at her brother.

Mandy pasted a smile on her face. ‘Who wants a quick spin?’

Sam jumped up with his hand in the air. ‘Shotgun!’ he called.

Jesse dashed to the front passenger seat. ‘You’ll have to fight me for it!’

‘Dad?’ Sam called out. ‘Are you coming?’

Dean was scowling, the muscles in his jaw working furiously, staring daggers at her beautiful, expensive-looking, chic black car, the kind of car she always wanted.

She was over feeling angry about his anger, which seemed so random to her, so aggressive and unreasonable.

If anything, all she felt now was exhaustion.

‘Dinner will be cold,’ he said, turning back up the path, away from the car and his family.

Mandy hoped that the kids didn’t notice the tension at dinner.

If anything, they were too hyper, laughing and giggling about the short drive along the bay road, Sam extolling the virtues of the sound system, the way the car took the curves, the comfort of the front seat his sister allowed him to have.

Jesse talked about all the places she could drive her to – the cinema, the mall and athletics, once she was well enough to start back – which made Mandy laugh and say that she hadn’t realised her job title had changed to personal chauffeur.

Dean sat silently at the table but separate from the family conversation, forking pasta into his mouth, while Mandy tried to keep the atmosphere light.

But her children were quicker than usual to take their plates into the kitchen and clear the table.

Sam seemed eager to go to bed straight away, while Jesse kissed her mum on the cheek before heading off to her room to do homework, leaving Mandy and Dean alone, together.

Dean scraped his chair back, getting up and heading to the kitchen. He started loading the dishwasher noisily, pointedly. Mandy followed him, standing in the doorway watching him clean up, dreading the conversation they were about to have. That they needed to have.

‘We need to talk, Dean,’ she said finally.

‘Oh, I thought my opinion didn’t matter,’ he shot back.

‘That’s not what I said, and you know it.

’ Mandy took a deep breath. ‘You’re acting unreasonably about this.

We weren’t talking about it, not properly, just going round in circles, there just didn’t seem to be any point in continuing.

The dealership was running an offer, so I decided why the hell not.

With my promotion, we can afford the repayments, and you never outright rejected a new car.

I didn’t tell you before now because I was afraid of your reaction. ’

‘Afraid of my reaction.’ His voice sounded calm. Flat.

‘Yes, to be completely honest.’

‘Well, perhaps we could have used all this new money you’ve got to fly out to Cyprus, see if we could have got a cure there.’

‘That’s unfair, Dean. That’s something we definitely did talk about – there is no treatment in the world better than what she’s receiving here, and you know it.’

He turned to face her, his eyes swimming. ‘I asked you not to buy a black car,’ he said, using the same controlled tone as before.

‘What? Oh, for God’s sake,’ Mandy said. ‘What is your problem? I’ve always wanted a black car, you know this. I think they look stylish. What’s wrong with that?’

‘It’s not just a black car though, is it?

’ The anger that Dean had been barely suppressing came to the fore, and he punctuated each word by stabbing his forefinger on the kitchen counter.

‘It’s the colour of a hearse. You are going to be ferrying around our daughter – our sick daughter – in a fucking hearse. ’

Mandy stood still, as shocked as if her husband had slapped her across the face.

Dean stalked past her, his expression fixed and grim.

She finished loading the dishwasher, then wiped down the benches and swept the floor, all the while their argument going around and around in her head.

They were both exhausted, both angry. They were misunderstanding each other and not giving each other grace.

But to make things right would take more energy than Mandy could spare at this point in time, especially as she wasn’t sure Dean would be able to meet her halfway.

If Jesse’s illness had taught her anything, it was that some problems are insurmountable and some problems are not yours to fix.

She put the broom and dustpan into the cupboard, ran a cloth around the sink and the taps, then leaned both hands against the counter and stared at her reflection in the dark glass of the window, readying herself for the next confrontation.

She found him in the living room, his head in his hands. When he looked up at her, his eyes were red-rimmed, but she didn’t think that he had been crying. She knew he wouldn’t let himself. Her heart ached for him in that moment, especially as she knew she was about to hurt him more.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said softly. ‘Not for the car, not for its colour, but I should have told you that I had bought it. I’m sorry for springing it on you like that.’

Dean nodded, running his hand over his head. He seemed very subdued. All the fight had gone out of him. For now.

‘I think you should see someone, Dean,’ Mandy said gently.

He snorted. ‘Like that’s the solution.’

‘We can’t go on like this. It’s got to stop,’ Mandy told him, feeling strangely emotionless. She knew the tears would come, the guilt at breaking up her family. But this conversation was long overdue.

Dean looked down at the floor, rubbing his hands together, the muscles in his jaw working. ‘I know we can’t,’ he said finally.

Mandy sat next to him. ‘By “we”, I meant the kids, and me. We can’t keep being held hostage by your moods. It’s not fair, on Sam and Jesse most of all.’

Dean let out a deep sigh, as if he had been expecting this. ‘I know.’

He pressed his thumb and forefinger against his eyes, shuddering.

Mandy placed her hand on his back. There was still love there.

But right now, it was buried under anger, resentment, sadness and fear.

In the face of Jesse’s uncertain prognosis, Mandy was putting everything she had into making life better for her kids.

She needed to look after herself too, in order to show up for them in the way they needed her to.

And Dean? He wasn’t letting the ones who loved him, love him.

He was so intent on being strong that he wasn’t letting himself be cared for.

And Mandy saw, with sudden clarity, that if he wasn’t going to let her care for him, then it was a job she could no longer take on.

He looked round at her, eyes red. ‘Seeing someone. Counselling. It’s not going to fix it, is it?’

She rubbed his back. ‘You never know. It might. If you give it a chance.’

He sniffed again. ‘That’s not what I meant. It’s not going to fix her, is it? What’s the good of counselling, what the point of making myself feel better, when . . .’

He left his sentence hanging, unable to say the words as he put his head back in his hands. They sat there, the two of them, on the couch, touching, but as far apart as they had ever been.

Lauren brings Mandy a cup of tea from the machine. ‘One sugar,’ she says with a smile.

Mandy takes it gratefully, and sips. She’s so thankful for the support of all these mothers, all who have similar worries, similar fears.

She knows what Jesse’s prognosis does for the other families on this ward because she felt it too – huge grief and concern for the children and parents involved mixed in with the fear that death might touch them too, that it was catching.

And it’s obvious that this is what Dean’s unreasonableness about it all – her car, Alex, Jesse’s wish – is all about: fear of death.

Finally, Dean breaks away from watching the football game with the other fathers, catching Mandy’s eye. She nods at him – it’s time to go back and be parents to their children. She gives Lauren a hug goodbye, whispers ‘thank you’ in her ear, and waves at the others.

Together, they walk silently back to Jesse’s room.

Amy is stretched out on her bed reading; she looks up from her book and throws them a warm smile.

Jesse and Sam are sleeping in each other’s arms. Mandy is overcome with love for her children.

They fight and bicker, just like normal siblings, but it’s moments like this, the quiet moments where their love for each other shines so beautifully, that Mandy wants to bottle it up, to keep it safe for a moment in the future when she needs to access that memory.

‘I don’t want some stranger spending time with her when we don’t know how much longer we’ve got,’ Dean whispers, breaking the moment.

Mandy fights back anger, determined to remain calm. She wishes Dean could move past his fear to see how badly Jesse needs to have her wish come true.

‘Jesse knows what she wants and what’s she’s doing. We have to trust her,’ Mandy says, not making eye contact.

They regard their children in silence for a few more moments. ‘School tomorrow,’ Mandy says finally.

‘I’ll take Sam back home and wait for you there,’ Dean says.

Kissing Jesse on the forehead, Dean carefully picks up Sam.

Cradling him in his arms he carries him out.

Jesse wakes and struggles to sit up. Mandy gently pushes her back onto the pillows, stroking her daughter’s forehead, like she used to do when she was a toddler. ‘It’s all right, darling, you sleep.’

‘Mum, my wish—’

‘You’ll have your wish, darling, I promise. I’ll not let anything stop you and Alex.’

‘But Dad—’

With a conspiratorial smile, Mandy whispers, ‘You leave him to me.’

Jesse giggles. ‘How many times have you said those words to me?’

‘Probably too many for your father’s liking.’

‘So, you’ll meet Alex?’

‘We’ll all meet him and do everything we can to help the two of you make your wish come true.’

‘It will be worth it, Mum, in the end it will be worth it, I promise you.’

‘I know. Now shush, go back to sleep, I’ll sit here a little longer.’

The smile doesn’t leave Jesse’s face, even as she falls asleep. Mandy looks over at the pinboard, noticing gaps she’s sure weren’t there before. She looks questioningly at Amy, who smiles a secret smile and goes back to her book.