Almost Perfect (15 page)

‘My pleasure, dear,' he said, squeezing her hand.

He returned to his conversation at the other end of the table, and Anna sat back, surveying the gathering. All these familiar faces, old friends who had been staple visitors to the house while she was growing up, people whom she had called ‘uncle' or ‘aunty'. Now grandparents all. She wondered if her mother and father had put up with the same kind of pressure
she and Mac had over the years. The baby pictures, the baby talk. Did ‘
When are you two going to get on with it and start a family?
' translate one generation back into ‘
When is that daughter of yours going to give you a grandchild?
'? Anna suspected it did.

She took a long, slow sip from her glass. The wine was beginning to infuse her with warmth; she was feeling that pleasant buzz, that sense of wellbeing that made her problems seem very small and infinitely manageable. Her eyes came to rest on Mac. He was seated across the table from her, engrossed in a conversation with Phillip Selway, who was neither an academic nor any kind of medical practitioner but an economist who worked as an adviser in the merchant banking sector. Mac and Phil tended to gravitate towards each other at these get-togethers, soul mates from the corporate sector. Anna watched her husband. He was a handsome man. Not in a movie idol kind of way, but he had strong, defined features and bottomless eyes the colour of slate. His face was so familiar to her that sometimes she forgot how handsome he was, how attractive she had found him when he had first come to court her. An old-fashioned term, but it was the only way to describe the way he had behaved. He was at once charming and confident, full of ambition and mature beyond his years, yet at the same time quite awestruck and boyish around her. Anna had felt it keenly, it turned a girl's head to be the object of such devotion, such single-minded determination to win her over. If only he'd known he didn't have to try so hard.

Anna sat back in her chair, her legs crossed,
clutching her arms around herself as she rested the glass against her lips, drawing the wine into her mouth in a slow, steady stream. It was like honey, gliding down her throat, filling her up like a sweet elixir, soothing her soul, warming her belly. Anna wanted to go home and lie naked next to Mac. No, not next to him. She wanted to be entwined around him, she wanted to feel his skin against hers, to feel his heart beating, his lips . . .

Anna swallowed. She felt flushed and a little breathless. Her glass was empty again. She reached for a bottle on the table in front of her. Mac must have seen her out of the corner of his eye and he picked it up first.

‘Here, let me do that,' he said. Ever the gentleman. Mac began to pour the wine into her glass, his head bent towards Phil, still listening to him. He glanced across at Anna, only fleetingly, but enough to make a flash assessment of her condition. He stopped pouring, the glass half full. Or half empty. A brief, disapproving cloud passed over his features before he returned his full attention to Phil. Anna picked up the glass and resumed her slow, steady pattern of emptying its contents. Ed would refill it for her soon enough. She was going to drink as much as she wanted tonight. As much as she needed.

As much as she needed turned out to be a little too much. Anna slowed down when she realised she was getting woozy, but the damage had already been done. When she went to get up from the table she
felt unsteady, but before she knew it Mac was at her side, discreetly supporting her. She leaned heavily against him as they walked from the restaurant to her parents' car, and he kept hold of her while he opened the door and helped her into her seat. Bless him.

But back at the apartment, alone in their room, Mac ignored her. Anna had to put all her concentration into getting changed, preferably without falling over. She didn't want to disgust him. He'd been kind, even a little affectionate, helping her to the car. She had to get him to respond to her tonight. They had to reconnect. If he was insisting on this break, ‘to see what they had together', then she had to show him that what they had was fine. More than fine. And she had to do that as soon as possible so they could stop all this nonsense and get back onto the program.

She went to the bathroom to brush her teeth. Staring at her reflection in the mirror, Anna realised this wasn't only about whether or not they continued with IVF. She missed Mac. She missed the way he was gentle and tender and caring towards her. Always. He had been such a good husband, but she feared she hadn't always been the best wife. Not intentionally, but the hormones and the treatment had at times made her pretty hard to love. And throughout Mac had been steadfast and patient. She had been wrong to suggest he hadn't been through much. He deserved a medal just for putting up with her.

Anna sniffed. Tears had crept into her eyes. She knew it was the alcohol making her sentimental, but so what? That didn't make what she was feeling any
less valid. She couldn't wait to get into bed and hold Mac close. She rinsed out her mouth repeatedly before drinking a large glass of water. She wasn't feeling too bad now as she switched off the light and walked back into the bedroom. It was in darkness, Mac was already in bed, turned away from her. Anna lifted the covers and climbed in, sidling over until she was snuggled against his back. He didn't move. She slid her arm around him, bringing her hand up to his chest. Still nothing. Anna was undaunted. She ran her fingertips across his skin, through the fine layer of hair covering his chest as she lifted her head to kiss his shoulder.

‘Anna, I'm trying to get to sleep.'

Not the reaction she was hoping for, but the one she was half expecting. She held him tighter, drawing her thigh up against his, speaking softly into his ear.

‘I was watching you in the restaurant, Mac, and all I could think about was being with you. We haven't . . . for such a long time.'

He sighed heavily. ‘You're drunk.'

‘I had a little too much to drink, I know–'

‘You had a lot too much.'

‘Mac, look at me,' she said, propping herself up on one elbow. He shifted slightly, turning his head around towards her. ‘I'm fine, I stopped when I felt it going to my head.'

She couldn't really see his expression in the darkness, not what was in his eyes.

‘Mac?'

‘What do you want me to say?'

‘Nothing, nothing at all,' she whispered huskily, drawing closer and kissing him softly on the lips. He didn't respond.

‘I'm not in the mood, okay, Anna?' he said, turning away from her again.

Anna ignored the tight feeling in her chest and bent to kiss his shoulder, inching towards his neck as she moved her hand down his chest to his abdomen. ‘I bet I can get you into the mood,' she breathed, slipping her fingers under the edge of his boxer shorts. But before she could get any further, Mac grasped her wrist and pushed her hand away.

‘For crying out loud, Anna!' he exclaimed, throwing the covers off and sitting up on the edge of the bed. ‘Can't you just take no for an answer?'

Anna lay back against the pillows, tears pricking the corners of her eyes. ‘But we haven't made love for ages, Mac.'

She saw his shoulders drop. ‘Your timing is incredible, Anna. Why would you choose to wait until we're at your parents' place, for Chrissakes?'

‘I didn't wait . . . look, I didn't plan this, okay?' Anna returned. ‘At home I'm always asleep by the time you come upstairs. You never get home before midnight–'

‘Don't you think you're exaggerating a little, Anna?'

She levered herself upright and leaned back against the bedhead. ‘All I know, Mac, is that you said we had to take a break so we could see what we had together, but ever since then you've been keeping your distance from me. I don't understand what's going on with you lately.'

Mac turned around to look at her. She still couldn't clearly see the expression in his eyes. ‘Did you expect me to forget what you said, to act like you never said it?'

‘No, but I told you I was sorry. And you know I didn't mean it anyway.'

‘How do I know that?'

Anna groaned. ‘If you love me, then you'd know I could never have meant it.'

‘Huh,' he scoffed ruefully, ‘that's rich. So now it becomes a test of my love for you? Very clever, Anna.'

‘That's not what I meant–'

‘And that's becoming a habit. Saying things you don't mean.'

Anna sighed. ‘This is an argument about words, Mac. It's ridiculous. We're not getting anywhere.'

‘I agree,' he said, lifting the covers and lying down again, turning away from her.

Anna glared at the back of his head. ‘So you're just going to ignore me now?'

‘This is not the time, Anna.'

‘Well exactly when is the time, Mac?' she demanded. ‘Whenever I try to talk to you, you say it's not the right time!'

Mac breathed out audibly. ‘I'm not going to have the conversation you want to have, here in your parents' home, at . . .' He reached for the bedside clock and turned it round to face him. ‘. . . 12:42 in the frigging morning,' he finished curtly. ‘I'm going to sleep.'

Anna bit her lip, sinking back down under the covers. She looked across at Mac. She would have
liked to cuddle into him, but she couldn't even do that now. If only she hadn't pushed it tonight. Mac was probably right, it wasn't a good time, but she was starting to wonder if there was ever going to be a good time. Anna turned over, away from him. The vacant expanse of bed between them was like a deep chasm, they were so far away from each other. And getting further all the time.

Anna rolled over, stretching, allowing her eyes to adjust to the light, and to the surroundings. It took a moment to remember that she wasn't in her own bedroom. She peered over at the clock. 9:23. She never slept this late, but she supposed she must have needed it. Mac was already up, which was not remarkable – she doubted he would have slept much at all. The memory of last night crept up on her, engulfing her in sadness again. They were in serious trouble. It made her feel sick but she couldn't ignore it any more. She'd counselled enough couples through the death throes of tattered marriages. But they could usually recount a long and steady decline. Anna felt like a bomb had dropped on them. Unexpected, out of the blue. Though she wondered if Mac would tell it like that.

There was a light tap on the door and Anna called, ‘Come in', her voice still husky.

The door swung open and her mother entered, carrying a cup of tea. ‘Did I wake you, darling?'

‘No,' Anna managed a smile, sitting herself up. ‘Not that I've been awake for long.'

Caroline passed her the cup of tea. ‘Well, that's good, you've had a nice sleep-in then.' She walked around to the other side of the bed. ‘I might make myself comfortable, if that's all right?'

‘Please,' said Anna as her mother climbed over next to her, propped the pillows against the bedhead and settled into them.

Anna sipped her tea. ‘What are Mac and Dad up to?'

‘Well, your father was thrilled to see Mac up nice and early and he dragged him off for a game of golf.'

‘I doubt he had to do much dragging.'

‘They're only going to play nine holes. Mac promised he'd have him back no later than eleven so we can have a nice relaxed brunch before you have to leave for the airport.' Caroline sighed. ‘It feels like you've only been here five minutes.'

Anna placed her cup on the bedside table and moved closer to her mother, linking her arm through hers and resting her head on her shoulder. ‘I miss you too, Mum.'

Caroline leaned her head against her daughter's. ‘I wish we weren't so far away, with everything you're going through.'

Anna looked up at her. ‘That's exactly why I didn't want you to know, Mum. I don't want you worrying.'

‘Well, now we'll worry regardless.'

‘I'm sorry.'

‘Don't apologise. I told you yesterday, it's not your job to protect us. Frankly I was quite surprised that you kept it from us all this time. I can't help thinking there was more to it.'

Anna sighed. ‘It's just that I always dreamed of arriving here, some time special like Christmas maybe, and announcing we were pregnant. Make grandparents out of the two of you.'

‘Oh, Anna,' Caroline chided, shifting to face Anna. ‘Giving us a grandchild should have been the least of your concerns.'

‘But I'm your only child. You're not going to get one from anywhere else.'

‘And guess what? We'll cope, our lives will go on, full and rich without one, just as they always have.'

Anna considered her doubtfully.

‘I mean it, darling,' Caroline insisted. ‘We haven't been sweating on a grandchild. To be honest, your father and I suspected you and Mac weren't especially bothered about having children. I thought if it was going to happen it might be late in the piece, like it was for me. I was right about your age now when I had you, so it has been in the back of my mind lately. But we were pleased that you seemed to be content, getting on with your lives, building your careers. You reminded us of ourselves in some ways.'

‘But weren't you trying the whole time till you had me?'

‘Oh no, what gave you that idea? After we were married for a few years and I hadn't fallen pregnant, we did go and see some doctors about what we
could do. I was teaching, your father had just started his practice. All they could offer us were fertility drugs, and there always seemed to be reports in the paper of women having nine babies and losing them all, so we didn't want to take that route. I was a little uneasy. I was only twenty-five, but all our friends were having babies, it's what you did. You didn't question it. You didn't plan it either, not too rigidly anyway. By and large women didn't think about careers because they knew they'd be interrupted. So your father turned to me and said, “Caroline, you're not going to sit around waiting to fall pregnant. What are you going to do with your life?” And you know, it was the first time I'd ever thought that way. And it was wonderful, it was exciting. Suddenly I had all these choices, just like a man.'

Anna sat listening to her, wide-eyed, her stomach churning. Her mother had actually been glad she couldn't have a baby?

‘So I went back to uni and studied for my masters degree, as you know. There weren't many women doing that, barely any who had children. And of course I went on and did my PhD and gained tenure at the university. Your father and I travelled a lot during that time as well. We used to plan our big overseas trips for months, and other times we'd fly out at a moment's notice to catch a show in Sydney on a Saturday night.' Caroline paused, smiling. ‘It was a wonderful time. Our lives were rich and full, we couldn't have been happier.'

Anna swallowed. ‘So I came along and spoiled it all.'

Caroline frowned at her. ‘Anna,' she chided, ‘you're sounding like a child yourself now. You didn't spoil anything. When I discovered I was pregnant, well, I can't tell you the joy . . . and your father was beside himself. Yes, Anna, we loved our life, but you, you were the icing on the cake. We couldn't believe that we'd managed to have it all. That we had gone on with our lives and still we were blessed with this wonderful bonus when we'd least expected it.'

Anna sat taking it all in. She had gone through her life believing she was precious to her parents, that they had yearned for her for a long time. But she was just a ‘bonus', a nice little unexpected extra.

‘The thing is, Anna,' Caroline continued, ‘we didn't wait around for a child to complete us as a couple, or as individuals for that matter. And I'm glad we didn't. We loved you with all our hearts, but we didn't have you to fill a gap in our lives. That's an enormous burden for a child to carry. We've watched enough friends do just that, investing their own happiness and fulfilment in their children's achievements.' Caroline shook her head with disapproval at the very thought of it. ‘So we just enjoyed you, dear, watched you grow, become your own person. And it was no surprise to us that a wonderful man came along who appreciated how wonderful you are. We've only ever wanted you to be happy, darling. And we thought you were. That's what's difficult to understand about all this.'

‘I am happy, Mum,' Anna said weakly. ‘It's not weird to want to have a child, you know.'

‘Of course not, darling, I didn't mean to imply it
was. But I wonder if you two couldn't just leave it in the lap of the gods for now? Relax and enjoy your life together for a while?'

Relax and enjoy? Relax and enjoy what? Holidays and trips to the theatre? Maybe those things made her parents' lives ‘rich and full', but Anna was having a hard time imagining her and Mac . . . She had a sick feeling in her stomach. A sick, uncomfortable feeling. It wasn't anything. They had been trying for a baby for so long they had got out of the habit of holidays and the like. That was all it was. They had got out of the habit.

‘You know I fell pregnant around your age without drugs or any intervention,' Caroline was saying. ‘Maybe this is when you have to give your body the chance to do its own thing. You never know.'

‘You're making it sound a little cosmic, Mum.'

‘Well, darling, I think it is to some degree. If we were dependent on technology to bring babies into the world, the human race would have died out long ago.'

Anna frowned. ‘Do you have some kind of ethical objection to IVF, is that the problem?'

‘No, of course not, Anna,' she insisted. ‘Your father and I are just concerned about the long-term effects on your health, on your whole life really.'

Anna started to crumble inside. Was there not one person who would support her any more? Was she so unreasonable to want a baby?

‘Come along,' Caroline said, patting her on the arm and signalling an end to the conversation. ‘We'd
better get a wriggle on, those men will be home soon and I bet they'll be hungry.'