I had purposely taken some time on leave in order to spend some solitary time alone to recharge my internal energy. Extroverts recharge by being with people while introverts need to spend time alone. Pressures and stresses built up over time needed to be resolved and the only way for me to do that was to find time for myself. It was to the point I was on the verge of burning out, exploding or imploding. Whichever came first.
I really wasn't feeling well and just wanted a few days to catch up on my sleep. To go out to look at natural flora and fauna, and calm myself back down so that I wasn't such a irritable hedgehog or snapping turtle all the time. Just some time to myself, you know?
Unfortunately, my mother had never understood this kind of thinking. She thought I was either being lazy or depressed, and wanted to make use of my free time to have me do things for her. Having listened to her friends and those social circle clips about the prevalence of depression and mental health problems in young people, she seemed to think she had to spend more time with me in order to make me talk to her and tell her all my deepest and darkest secrets.
Why would I tell her anything about my private inner world? Ever since I was young and realised how dangerous my mother's mouth was, I had learnt to hide all my private secrets and things from her. Otherwise, under the guise of 'care', she, who said she was the safest keeper of secrets, would blab all my secrets to all her friends, relatives and even to random strangers on the street. My mother was a big nosy gossip. She just didn't think she was and didn't call it gossiping. She called it being open, caring and transparent.
Having heard from one of my siblings who had been tricked into blurting out the secret of my leave, my mother decided to come over to stay for the duration of my leave and inundated me with a bunch of 'urgent' matters that required my help. The first and foremost was to drive her here and there to various appointments (basically gossip sessions with her friends, but what she called 'encouragement missions') or to buy 'very important' things (like a plastic dining table cover or a room heater). She needed to pick up various orders that she had ordered online from various warehouses, like a personalized shopping trolley, some sort of gardening gadget, and an outdoor shower head.
I didn't understand. She had a driving license herself, knew how to get to wherever she needed to go without issues and had space in the car boot to pick up whatever she needed and wanted by herself. She didn't need me.
I got it. She wanted to spend time with me and was trying to make time to spend with me, but when the entire time was going to be fraught with her nagging and talking about how I was getting old and still not married, as well as trying to find ways to pair me up with the son of a friend or distant relatives, I wasn't sure whether my already thin patience was going to last. I loved my mother, but now was not the time to push me to the limits of my physical, mental and emotional endurance. I needed some time and space to myself, whether or not my mother believed in introverts, extroverts and personal space.
For the first few days, I obediently allowed my mother to use me to show off to her friends and be introduced to her random acquaintances that she sometimes met on the street. I was the silent foil and sounding board she wanted, because she hated it when I tried to stand up for myself or refute her exaggerated lies when boasting to her friends about my abilities (or lack of) or when making unadvisable recommendations to help friends 'solve' their problems and 'fix' their issues.
We'd set off early in the morning and get home late at night with my mother excitedly exclaiming about what a good and satisfactory day it had been. At the end of the day, she would be in higher spirits and have even greater energy than in the morning, dragging me around the house and garden to do the chores, while scolding me for never getting any house or garden work done. And then, she would insist on sharing my bed at night, giggling excitedly over being able to have sleepovers with her daughter, forcing me to stay up and chat with her into the wee hours of the morning.
I really, couldn't take it much longer.
No matter what I said or tried to tell her, it would be met with her absolute rejection.
"How can you be tired? You haven't done anything at all. Do you hate me so much? You just don't want to spend time with me do you? Actually, you are not tired. You just need a change of scenery and activity. Listen to your mother. Your mother knows you best. Just do what I tell you. No, no. You don't need to rest. You can rest another day and another time. Actually, you are just hungry. You must have low blood sugar. Let's go get you something to eat."
If I told her that I really didn't want to go out and wanted to sleep in, I was slapped on the backside like when I was a child. It didn't matter that society classes me as an adult in their twenties.
"You're all grown up now and think you can do whatever you want, huh? Your mother is so busy. Busy to death, but a lazy person like you can't even take a little bit of time out of your holiday to help me. What was the point in you taking a break from work then? You might as well go back to work then and stop wasting your time wanting to do nothing. Money isn't going to earn itself. By the way, it's been a few days since you last gave me any of your salary. The little you gave me before was not enough. Only stingy people give their parents such little money. You're not married. What else are you going to use the money for? Just give it to me to keep for you. Let your mother look after your money. Although you think you've grown up and become an adult, you're actually still a clumsy kid that doesn't know anything. I shouldn't have let you out to experience society so early."
Can you see what my life involved? What it was full of? How can this type of person not drain your vitality?
"Honey, we need to go shopping and pick up things from these places for some of my friends. They're too busy and have asked us to help out since we have time. There's this warehouse in West Halus, where we need to pick up a wheelbarrow to take it to my friend's place in East Halus. We need to stop by the Lifeworks office in Liddale to pick up more mission leaflets and handouts so that I can talk to and encourage more people on the streets. We also have a mission to go and help my good friend over in Carbole bring her washing machine to the dump and bring her the new small one she bought so that she doesn't have to pay for the delivery fees. On the way, we can stop by that little restaurant behind the King Artstyle Paint Shop. That's not far from the Lifeworks office in Liddale. It's just the next suburb over."
"Alright," I gave a deep sigh and suppressed my irritated, frustrated and surging emotions, knowing that blowing up at my mother would be considered childish and be met with another famously long lecture, if not a beating.
"I really want to introduce you to the new friends I made at the Lifeworks mission office. They're all such good, young people. You've met some of them before. Did you find any of them interesting enough to want to go out with them last time I took you to meet them?"
"No, Mum. I've told you before. I'm not interested in any of those people."
"What a pity. Honey, you're not getting any younger. You're already at the age where my friends are all asking me why I've allowed you to become a leftover woman, asking me if there's anything wrong with you that you still haven't gotten married or had any kids. They all think I haven't worked hard enough and are blaming me for being too hard on you and picky. You know all your character problems and shortcomings are blamed on me. Where's your respect? You think I like people pointing at me and saying I'm a bad mother because of you?"
I gritted my teeth and started the car, trying to form a plan and a map in my mind of all the things my mother wanted to do today. I didn't want to be driving back and forth because of my mother's very changeable whims. It was better to come to her with an energy efficient plan, using saving time, effort, petrol and money as the excuses not to be sent driving north, south, east, west because she had changed her mind on where she wanted to go next.
"Look, Mum," I pointed at the navigation map, shrinking it so that it showed the whole southern suburban region. "The places you want to go are all not far off from the A1 highway. In order to save time and petrol, why don't we go down the A1 highway and stop off at each of the places along the way. We can get off at the Hamilton Rd exit to go to your friend's place in Carbole and pick up her new washing machine on the way, so that we don't have to make too many trips. Hopefully there will be people to help with picking up and carrying the machine."
"Those washing machines are very small ones. There's only her in the house, so you should be able to manage the washing machines yourself."
"Fine. If you say so. After picking up and sending her old washing machine to the dump here, we can take this road to detour through Liddale, so you can visit the office there. Then we'll go to the restaurant behind King's like you said. It'll likely be lunch time by then. After that, we'll get back on the A1 to get to Halus. We can take the A1 all the way down to Halus and save some time, rather than trying to get to the other motorway."
"Oh, well, we should also stop by Office Supplies at some stage during the day to pick up a few urgent things for my office at home. And also Franklins for some cheap groceries. You're out of liquid hand soap. I don't like your bar soap. And if we have time, we can go to the market and buy a few garden tools and pot plants. Your house would look much more gorgeous with some pot plants around the place," my mother added, smiling cheerfully. "It would cheer you up and help you maintain a good mood too."
"Alright, but only if we have time. Otherwise your friends will be waiting for us all day," I heaved another sigh at all the extra things she wanted to shove into today as if there was no time tomorrow to do anything. As far as I knew, she had nothing planned for tomorrow yet.
"Honey, how can you speak to your own mother like that? Don't think I don't know you're grumbling at and about me in your heart. Where's the love and compassion I brought you up to have? How can you be so selfish? It's good that during this holiday we can spend lots of time together so that I can teach you how to be a more open, cheerful and generous person. After helping so many people, you will feel more encouraged and relaxed," my mother said, patting my arm.
"Actually, Mum, I haven't been feeling well and just want to take a good break so that I can rest," I said, feeling a tightness and growing fatigue in my chest and head. I already had a throbbing headache and the more I listened to my mother talk, the worse the headache got. My emotions surged wildly but I firmly pressed them down. Now wasn't the time to have a meltdown or to storm off in irritation. It would only lead to my mother barging into the toilet while I was doing my business in the evening after I got home, trapping me on the toilet in all my humiliation in order for her to have a heart-to-heart that I didn't want to have with her.
"You're feeling fine. What feeling unwell? There's no such thing in our family. I tell you, Honey, you mustn't be lazy or let your mind wander so much. You have to stay happy, determined and focussed in order to keep a healthy mindset. You aren't feeling unwell at all. In fact, you should be feeling more and more energetic or I'll look down on you. Look how old you are and how old I am. Have I ever looked as gloomy and tired and ugly as you? No! It's because I always keep a positive mindset. I am not lazy or selfish. Only selfish people with the wrong attitude toward work and life have problems like you where you become antisocial and try to withdraw from society. Don't you know that isolating yourself and antisocial behaviour are signs of mental issues? You are my daughter. My daughter isn't so weak as to develop mental problems. So stop trying ruin my day and interrupt my work. There are so many things to do and get done today. Will they ever get done if you don't pull up your socks and get moving? No. So hurry up and start driving. We're already late. We have to go to Halus first. Hurry up," my mother nagged, growing impatient.
"Didn't we just say that we were going to go to Halus last?" I asked my mother, pulling out of the driveway and turning out of our street.
"Honey, you never listen to me when I talk. Why do you never listen. I told you we have to go to Halus. Why so many words and questions? Just drive where I tell you to drive. What nerve you have to question your mother."
"Alright," I shrugged.
I was just a driver. Just her chauffeur. Just her servant. My attempts to have a smooth day and journey without travelling back and forth all over the place had just been overriden.
"When we go to Halus, you should take the A1 highway and then turn off at Alexander's Crossing," my mother instructed while I listened, driving toward the nearest A1 entrance. "There, I'm not entirely sure which is the better way. Whether we should take the circuit road or take Scotsburn Parade to avoid the traffic around the center of Halus."
"I think we should take the circuit road," I suggested, keeping my eyes on the road.
"What do you know?" my mother clicked her tongue at me in irritation. "You are just here to drive and to be a space for me to talk to. Just a sounding board. I didn't ask you for your unwanted advice and thoughts. Don't interrupt me while I'm thinking."
"Alright."
My fingers clenched around the driving wheel a little harder. My mother wasn't like this with all my other siblings, but whenever it came to me, she suddenly became an overbearing control freak who tried to manipulate and guilt trip me into doing whatever she wanted. Was it because I was the only girl in the family? Was it because she thought I was not as valuable or important as my brothers?
She had often told us about the stories of how she had grown up under the thumbs of her biased grandparents who were prejudiced against girls. She had declared she would never be so unkind toward her children. So what was this? Her biased upbringing making her unconsciously pick on me?
My mother didn't used to be like this. She used to be so loving and sweet. The best mother in the world. After I started working full time in the workforce, and not spending as much time around her - no, perhaps it was after I had moved out of home, she had slowly started to become like this. Unreasonable, irrational, selfish and unkind. Scatterbrained and forgetful.
I had once tried to bring her to the doctor's clinic for a checkup and had been beaten up by her while I had been driving the car. If I hadn't pulled over in time, we would have had a car accident. In fact, sometimes in my dreams, I could still see that big freight truck screaming past us and head it blaring its horn, missing the car by only a few centimetres. After beating me up, my mother had forced me to drive home where she told my father, the whole family, extended family and friends what an evil child I was. That I had a malicious mind. After that, everyone seemed to take a step back from me and isolate me.
My brothers who had been the ones to suggest I take my mother to the doctor for a checkup told me to forget about it. In fact, one of them even forgot that he was the one who had twisted my arm to trick Mum into going. He was also the most vocal about 'punishing' me. He had helped Mum beat me up in order to vent her anger.
Even so, I still felt that she might either be suffering from the early stages of dementia or was having withdrawal symptoms from not having me constantly at her beck and call anymore and being able to control me anymore. Now that I had moved out of the house, she could no longer micromanage and control my life as she had before. There was a reason I had no friends and hardly ever went out. It wasn't worth the drama I would come home to or the drama of my mother storming into a restaurant or whatever friendly gathering I had decided to attend in order to drag me home while telling people what I 'really' felt and thought of them.
While Mum was nattering away, debating the best routes and roads to take with by herself, while asking for my agreement all the time and then rebuffing me because I agreed to both opposing statements only to be told I was useless, I passed the Hamilton Road exit for Carbole. She had said to go to Halus first.
"Hey, hey, hey," Mum hit me on the head and side of the head with her handbag, making me wince and swerve on the road. Car horns honked at me. "Honey, didn't I tell you we are going to Carbole and Liddale? You just passed the exit. Where are you going? Are you stupid? Why do you never listen to me?"
"Mum, stop hitting me. I'm driving. Do you want to have an accident?" I shrieked, straightening the car and changing lanes so that I could use the emergency lane if needed.
"How dare you raise your voice at me?" my mother went on a tirade, while I tried to explain to her that I had just been following her instructions to go to Halus first. "What are you doing? Why are you pulling over? Get off the highway at the next exit and turn around."
I pulled the car over onto the emergency lane so that I could calm down my racing heart and so that I could make sure Mum could finish venting and wouldn't hit me while I was driving anymore.
Mum had a lot to say, but quietened down when she saw that I had really been scared by her.
"What's wrong with you? How can you do anything in life if you get scared over such a small matter?"
Ignoring my mother and her nagging, I got myself and my emotions back under control and wiped my wet eyes.
"Alright, alright," I said, pulling the car back onto the road when a gap in the traffic came. My pounding heart actually wanted me to get out of the car and run away. Run away and never return. "I'll turn the car around so that we can go to Carbole and Liddale."
Mum calmed down. She seemed to have realised that the way she had overreacted and hit me while driving was wrong and didn't have much to say. Following her instructions, I drove to the white goods warehouse where the workers helped to load the new washing machine into the back of my car. We had needed to fold down the back seats to make enough space for the so called 'small' washing machine.
As usual, my mother's reassurance that it was a small machine that I should be able to handle by myself had been unreliable. The warehouse workers questioned me worriedly about how we would get it out of the car, but my mother reassured them that there would be people to help us on the other end with carrying and installing it. I could only watch and listen with a frown, gritting my teeth.
"Are you ok?" a burly warehouse worker asked me quietly. "You don't look well. Are you sure you're going to be ok?"
I glanced at my mother who had suddenly turned to look at me and the warehouse worker sharply.
The burly warehouse worker seemed to sense that it wouldn't be wise to talk to me further and gave me an apologetic look, stepping back and away from me before my mother relaxed. Another worker shut the car boot and I got back into the car to drive.
My mother's nagging about me not knowing how to read the timing of the situation and 'flirting' inappropriately went over my head. Although I had a lid on my temper at the moment, I knew that if I wasn't careful, today might be the day that I exploded. I did my best to let the comments about me trying to hook up with any man I saw because I wasn't married yet go in one ear and out a other.
At her friend's place, I was relieved to find that her friend's husband was present. The uncle and I exchanged knowing glances and rolled our eyes at each other when the two women got together to complain and gossip about us to each other. We worked together silently and I followed the man's instructions to help him carry the 'small' washing machine into the house and install it. Afterwards, he helped me carry the old 'small' washing machine to the car and find some way to slide it into my boot.
"I'm sorry about the trouble," the uncle muttered to me. "Thank you for the help. Get a good rest when you go home. You don't look too good."
I nodded and gave him a tight smile which he returned with a look of understanding encouragement.
When my mother and her friend had finished griping about me and my driving and 'disobedience' this morning, as well as my 'inappropriate flirting', they finished with the conclusion that they needed to find me a man to get married to fast. The uncle patted my shoulder without a word and went to hide in the house, while the two women performed their prolonged farewell.
At the tip, I was left sweating and frustrated with the washing machine while my mother stood to one side giving me unhelpful and unwanted advice. Eventually a few tip workers saw my predicament after I had dropped the washing machine on the ground and was trying to swivel it to the side. They came over with a machine to pick the thing up and throw it on the pile of other white goods that would be put through a machine to crunch it up into little pieces later.
"Look. It's so easy for them. What's wrong with you?" my mother asked me. "I haven't skimped on your meals. Where are all your muscles?"
"Mum, there were two of them. There's only one of me," I sighed while the two tip workers gave my mother a strange look and waved at us to tell us to drive away and make space for more vehicles coming behind us.
"That's not an excuse to be so lazy. Otherwise I don't understand why lifting the washing machine was so difficult for you."
"Mum, the washing machine was heavy. Really big and heavy."
"It's only a little washing machine. My friend said she is the only one who uses it and so it's very small. She said she was able to handle it by herself. Why can't you?"
So my mother's friend also took her husband for granted and didn't consider him a human being. Anything he did was considered to be work she had done. No wonder the two women were friends. I wondered how that husband could be willing to stay with such a person. His patience must have been refined into a substance more precious than gold.
"So where are we going now?" I asked, just in case she had changed her mind. It was getting to lunch time and I was getting hungry. Going to that little restaurant behind King's seemed to be a good idea right now.
"You never listen, do you?" Mum complained. "We're going to Liddale. After Liddale, we'll go to the restaurant you like behind King's."
Actually, it was one of the few restaurants she liked. It had nothing to do with me. I had only been there twice before, while she was a regular there. But who was I to refute the queen?
To Liddale we went. Mum gave directions and I obediently followed her directions, suffering a scolding for not following her instructions when we got lost for ten minutes. Eventually, we found the right street and I parked under a big gum tree, feeling exhausted.
"What's wrong with you?" Mum slapped my arm. "Come on. Get out. There's still a lot of things to be done and I want to introduce you to the people. They're all about your age and so you should be able to get along with them very well."
We met the people in the office as they were coming out to go to have lunch together. Mum stopped them to chat and talk, while one ran back inside to get the things Mum had ordered. Although I had met most of them once before, being introduced again helped jog my memory so that I could remember what their names were again.
Around the corner behind the shared gravel carpark, I saw the white brick side wall of the King Artstyle Paint Shop. The old cursive painted logo looked even more faded than it had been the last time I had been here.
Mum tried really hard to pair me up with the leader of their little office group. An older guy with a receding hairline, a knobbly nose, severe acne scars on both cheeks who was very soft spoken and specialised in 'healing'. He wasn't exactly handsome, although his personality, character and manners greatly offset his looks. His name was Pavel and was only about four years older than me. He kept looking at me with growing concern on his face while Mum complained about my state of singleness and lack of drive to find a husband.
My head was buzzing and I felt lightheaded, while I tried to stay focussed and smile at the other party. I heard one of the office girls suggest we all go out to eat lunch together, leading to Mum promoting the little restaurant behind King's with excitement, as if they didn't already know about the place that was just around the corner from their office.
"What a coincidence," Pavel smiled, silencing my mother with his agreement, stepping closer to me and waving his hand at the whole group to tell them to start walking, "that's where we were heading."
Pavel directed the office girls to keep my mother company and walk ahead. A warm arm reached around my shoulders to stabilise my unsteady form.
"Hey, Honey, are you feeling alright?"
"Fine," I gritted my teeth and fought against the waves of fatigue that were growing stronger. My emotions surged against the lid I was trying to keep on them and the tight, heavy feeling in my chest began to feel more intense. "I'm fine."
I said that, but I really wasn't. I needed to sit or to lie down.
"Are you sure? You don't look fine to me," Pavel said with gentle concern, slowing his pace down to match mine. "Would you like to go back to our office to sit down for a bit? You look like you're about to faint."
"Honey," my mother turned around to call me in a sharp voice. "Stop dawdling. Everyone's waiting for you. They don't have as much time as you to have lunch. Hurry up."
"It's alright," Pavel said in his slow and gentle voice, placating my mother. "We don't have a lot of urgent work planned for this afternoon. We've just had a busy period and it's just nice for us all to have a more relaxed afternoon."
I could imagine what my mother was thinking from the way she was looking at me with a dark face, while Pavel stood so close to me. He had released me the moment I had seemed to find my balance.
"Honey doesn't look too well," said the second in charge girl after Pavel. I couldn't think of her name right at the moment because the edges of my vision were crowding in. All I could remember was that it started with M. "She's so pale. How about Pavel and I take her back to the office to rest while the rest of you go to lunch. You can bring us back something to eat."
"Good idea," Pavel agreed, gesturing to the girl whose name started with M. The girl whose name started with an M took my arm and then put an arm around my shoulders to help stabilise me.
"She's been complaining of feeling tired for a while," Mum admitted, coming back to take a closer look at me and likely to see whether I was acting or really feeling unwell. I'll never understand why she always automatically assumes that I'm lying whenever I say I'm feeling sick. "Perhaps it might be a good idea to let her go back to the office first. I'm so sorry for the trouble, everyone."
"No worries," Pavel waved her off. "The two of us will look after her and take her to lie down for a bit. I'll pray and do some healing ministry for her. You all..."
I was helped to turn around, but my mind suddenly went blank. All I could see was darkness. I could feel myself falling and prepared myself for the jarring sensation of hitting the ground, but it never came. Instead, I felt something soft catch and cushion me.
When I came to, I was ensconced in a warm presence. There was something soft and warm beneath my head, while the rest of me was on the cold ground. I tried to open my heavy eyelids but they didn't want to move. My consciousness swam upwards, trying to break through thick and heavy layers of lethargy.
"Don't worry," Pavel's voice was saying. I felt his big and warm hand on my back, patting me gently. "She's ok. Just very, very tired. She seems to have overworked and not been feeling well for a while, right? I just prayed and that's what I got. You all go for lunch. I'll stay here with her to keep her company until she wakes up. When she can get up, we'll help her to the office where she can lie down on the couch. After lunch, you can finish your errands and come to pick her up at the end of the day. She should be feeling much better and more able to move around by then."
I couldn't help but think that if I ever got married, I hoped I could marry a man as gentle and as compassionate as this. It was just a pity about his looks. I wasn't sure I would ever be able to get used to his relatively plain and less aesthetically pleasing face, but then a person shouldn't judge a book by it's cover right? If the man was good, why worry about his face? If I married Pavel, would my mother stop nagging me? Probably not. She'd likely complain and nag at me for picking such an ugly guy, no matter how good his character was. And then nag at me for not being able to give birth to grandchildren for her straight away. Even after the first child was born, the nagging would likely never end until I was worn out with childbearing. And then I'd have to listen to her telling me how bad a mother I was and how I didn't know how to take care of children and... Just thinking about it was exhausting and made me feel worse.
Alright. Better not to consider marrying Pavel. He probably didn't see me that way either. Why would he want a mother-in-law like my mother? Having met her and talked with her a few times, he should have been able to see what kind of person she was by now. Although he was a very gentle type person from what I could tell, that didn't mean he wasn't sharp.
I trembled at the sound of my mother's complaining and apologies, her words carrying hidden threats for me as if she knew I was awake and listening. But finally, eventually, she was led away.
"Don't worry," Pavel's voice said to me in a soft tone that didn't carry, his hand tucking hair behind my ear and out of my face. He stroked my hair for a moment. "Don't worry about anything and just rest. Rest well. Gather up your strength. No rush."
I tried and tried to muster up the strength to move, but couldn't. I was too tired. My limbs were too heavy. A warm finger wiped the tears from my eyes.
"Don't be frustrated. Don't worry. This is just a temporary thing. Your body is just very tired and it seems that you've been under a lot of mental strain. Your body just couldn't take it anymore. For this afternoon, don't worry about a thing. I'll take care of you until your mother comes back. You just rest. Rest well. Have a little nap and when you wake up, we can move you inside where it will be more comfortable."
Although I felt bad, I couldn't help it. I couldn't do anything. The only thing I could do was allow myself to go back to sleep and hope I would be able to get up when I woke up again.
The warm lap under my head was so soft and comfortable. Were the leg and lap not part of a person, I would have wanted to bring such a comfortable pillow home. I was sure to have a good sleep every night with such a comfortable pillow.
I felt myself being rolled more firmly onto my side, rather than the partially propped up position I had been in before. A hand slowly strokes and patted my back in a very calming manner.
Vaguely, I heard the sound of people coming up to talk with Pavel, Pavel giving instructions and heard someone mention an ambulance. A smell of petrol smoke and a large vehicle stopped at the curbside where I was lying on the pavement, shading me from the sun. Multiple hands supported my body, people talked to me and squeezed my hands, but I could barely reply. I was lifted up onto a soft surface. The outdoor breeze and sunshine became shadowed and stifled by indoor air. All through it, I could feel Pavel's comforting hand on my back or shoulder, still patting me to a slow rhythm, keeping me calm.
Sleep clung to me and I to it. I had been wanting and needing more sleep and since I was in safe hands, I allowed myself to relax. I slept. I slept hard and long, feeling and watching the flow and ebb of colourful dreams I couldn't retain the memory of.
"She's fine. Just asleep. Looks like it really is just exhaustion," said the distant voice of a stranger. "ECG and all other vital signs seem to be normal. I don't think there's any need for her to go to the hospital, but perhaps when she wakes up, you should encourage her to go to the doctor to get a proper checkup done. If her mother is really like what you said, it might be a good thing if the girl can take a break from her. See if you can suggest to her mother to let the poor girl get a good rest and have a talk to her about boundaries. For now, just let her sleep."
I became aware of the soft surface under my body. A couch, perhaps. The office couch? It was quiet. Serene. For once, there was nobody nagging at me non-stop. How pleasant the quiet was. If only it could last forever.
Someone had covered me with a blanket and my head was on the thigh of that comfortable lap. The most comfortable lap in the world. Maybe I should marry the owner of this lap. Then I could use it more often.
I managed to pry open my eyes and turn my head to look up and see whose lap I was lying in. Pavel looked down and smiled at me, his hand steadily patting and stroking my back in the most calming and soothing manner. I smiled back in reply and felt myself sink back into a deep sleep.
Seriously. I was seriously contemplating marrying this man now. Never mind his looks. Look at his patience, his gentleness and calm quietness. Look how comfortable his lap was. Would the guy be insulted if his lap was the main reason why I might want to or be willing to marry him? Would he be insulted? I mean, people have gotten married for less before, right?
No, no. I couldn't interrupt and ruin his life by bringing my mother along. He might end up hating me and the trouble I brought to his life. Better to stay away. Stay away, but enjoy this once in a lifetime chance. Enjoy this lap while I could.
However, I had been a lap pillow for my younger siblings before. I knew how numb a person's legs can get after a while. I must have been sleeping on him for a while. His legs must have gotten tired and numb by now. Also, if my mother knew that I had been using a man's thighs as a lap pillow, she might blow her top and accuse me of indecency. I couldn't disturb the kind and gentle guy. I couldn't bring him trouble.
Fighting my way back out of the sticky sleep, I stirred and curled up, wriggling off his lap.
"Honey? Is everything alright? How are you feeling?"
"Your legs," I murmured against the heavy feeling still present in my body and weighing me down, making talking quite the effort. "Must be numb. Don't want to make your legs dead and numb. Uncomfortable. Don't want to trouble you."
"My legs are fine," Pavel repositioned himself and then scooped me up, pulling me into his arms. Oh, it was so comfortable. So warm. How could his arms and lap be so heavenly? "Don't worry. You're very tired, aren't you? You can keep sleeping. Nobody will disturb you. I'll stay with you. Everything will be ok. Don't worry about anything and sleep. Sleep as much as you like."
I smiled with relief and snuggled into his arms, glancing up to see his reaction. I saw his smile deepen.
"It's ok," he told me. "Just sleep."
And so I slept.
I vaguely heard my mother's voice when she returned in the late afternoon. Pavel had murmured an apology and gently eased me off his lap and back down onto the couch when one of his office co-workers had warned him of my mother's impending arrival. Pavel took her aside.
I heard their murmured voices coming from athe direction of the private office for a long time.
The sun was setting when I was nudged awake by my mother.
"Get up and eat. Go to the toilet and then I'll take you home," my mother said with pursed lips, glancing at the office workers who were still working silently nearby.
Groggily, I sat up, holding my dizzy head and peering around with bleary eyes. My mother combed my messy hair into a more reasonable state with her fingers and gestured at a takeaway box on the coffee table in front of the couch. The food was cold and was likely the lunch brought back for me from the little restaurant behind King's.
I ate the cold potatoes and gravy with a hot mug of peppermint tea. Pavel had put the hot mug by my side with his signature gentle smile.
"Would you like the food warmed up?" he asked me.
I hesitated and then shook my head.
"No need to trouble you," I told him, picking up the peppermint tea. How did he know that peppermint tea was my favourite? He had even added just the right amount of sugar.
"It's no trouble," he told me, his hand stroking my head, causing me to unconsciously lean into it and make his smile deepen. He picked up the cold takeaway box and took it away to the kitchenette.
I was woken up by a slap to the side of my head and my mother's glare.
"Are you awake now?" she hissed. "Are you a cat to enjoy a man stroking your head? You've lost all my face today, did you know? How could you faint like that earlier this afternoon? You've troubled the entire office the whole afternoon. Make sure you apologise properly later. They gave me a talking to earlier for not letting you get enough rest. Since when do I not give you enough rest? You're just looking for attention and trying to make me look bad in front of other people, aren't you? You just hate your mother and so want to embarrass and humiliate me, is that right?"
I shrank my neck in, and lowered my head, putting the mug of peppermint tea that had spilled over to scald my hands and lap onto the coffee table again. I grabbed a few tissues to wipe up the spill and dab at my wet clothes.
"You can never do anything right," my mother hissed at me, making me duck my head lower.
All the peaceful calm from earlier was gone. The rest that had helped acculumate some energy seemed to fade away. My internal energy container had sprung a few leaks, causing my energy reserves to drop to unstable levels. A seething surge of frustration rushed to my head and my hands trembled for a moment.
Before I lost my head and did anything stupid, I excused myself to go to the toilet, focussing on walking steadily, while the ground seemed to sway and lurch beneath my feet as if I were on a boat at sea. My head spun in a strange floaty manner.
In the toilet, I dealt with my business, washed my hands with cold water to numb the burning sensation and took a few deep breaths. I suddenly felt breathless and extremely unwell. My vision was spotting and tears were swimming beneath my eyelids, threatening to spill over.
I opened the toilet door, but couldn't take another step. My vision had gone dark and I could feel myself swaying. My limbs had gone stiff and heavy again. I couldn't move.
"Honey!" a voice exclaimed.
I caught a whiff of warmed food wafting by. There was a small gust of wind and strong arms pulled me towards a firm chest, hugging me tight and then helping me to sit down. I recognised Pavel's scent and touch. How comforting and soothing it was to be around him.
"Breathe. Focus on breathing. Just keep breathing. In and out. That's it. Good girl."
He patted my back and let me lean on him until I had gotten things back under control and could move again. He looked at me with worried eyes.
"Are you alright?"
I stared at him, unable to answer.
I wasn't alright but I wasn't allowed to say so. The moment I did, my mother would surely appear and butt in to refute anything I said and tell me how I was feeling, even though she was not me and had probably had no idea what I was really feeling.
Pavel gave me a firm hug.
"You're ok," he told me. "At least, you're going to be ok," he said. "It's alright. Just stay here and eat first. Later, I'll make sure to get you and your mother safely home. I'll even tuck you into bed, if you want?"
I gave him a watery smile.
"That sounds good," I said, still trying to catch my breath as the darkness in my vision slowly receded.
"Lovely," he said, putting a disposable spork into my hand. He paused and looked at my red hands and then glanced at the wet marks on my clothes. "You spilled your tea? Your hands have been scalded."
"It's fine," I shook him off. "It doesn't hurt. I just wasn't careful."
My mother came over to find out what was taking me so long and Pavel told her that I had almost fainted again, to which she exclaimed with disbelief.
"After Honey has finished eating," Pavel interrupted her, watching me eat with my head down and flinching when my mother pinched me, "I'll drive the two of you back in your car," he said.
"No need," my mother raised her imperious hand. "I can drive her home."
"I promised her that I'd make sure she goes straight to bed like the paramedics suggested earlier today and tuck her in," Pavel told me mother with a smile, with just a hint of steel in his tone. He wasn't going to accept a 'no' from her.
My mother dithered for a moment and then pursed her lips again.
"Fine. But if you do that, then you are going to have to take responsibility for my daughter. Not just anyone can be allowed into her bedroom to tuck her in. It's inappropriate for a strange man to enter a woman's bedroom."
The whole office that was packing up and preparing to go home suddenly fell silent. All eyes turned to look in our direction. Pavel looked at my mother for a long moment and then at my lowered head for another long moment.
"I'm moving interstate at the end of this year," Pavel said, looking my mother in the eyes. "I'll take her with me."
I raised my head to stare at the man with surprise and widened eyes. What was he talking about? My mother had asked him to take responsibility and he had accepted? Why? Why would he do that?
"Do you want to?" he asked me and I could hear all the other people in the office gasp and hold their breaths.
I glanced at my mother who gave me a dark and tight smile.
What was I meant to say? What was I meant to do? How should I reply? What did her expression mean?
"You're an adult," my mother told me. "You can make your own decisions. The two of you have already met and known each other for a while. It's a good opportunity for you to finally get married. It's your life. Up to you. No need to look at me."
I couldn't tell if she meant what she said. I trembled as the hope of escape surged. Did she mean it? Was I really allowed to choose? Was I finally going to be able to leave the nest properly and never have to come back?
"If you agree," Pavel told me, "we'll go back to my country to visit my parents in a few months. If they agree, we'll directly get married there and then come back to have another wedding ceremony here with your friends and family. If you are willing, I'll take responsibility so that I can come and tuck you into bed this evening."
I stiffened at that and looked at my mother again.
"No strange man is ever entering your bedroom without first agreeing to marry you," my mother told me with glittering eyes. "And even then, you have to get married if you want to do anything else. Otherwise I'll follow to chaperone the both of you."
I had lost all my appetite due to the nausea. All I felt was the stress and pressure crashing down on me, as both sides asked for my decision. One side was completely genuine, having made up his mind. The other side carried many unseen undercurrents and I couldn't read her at all in that moment. I didn't want to offend her and get myself into trouble. I didn't know what to do. What to say.
"All you have to do is agree or disagree," Pavel told me, leaning in to support me where I was swaying in my chair. "Nod or shake your head if you can't talk."
I couldn't breathe. I couldn't breathe.
Was I really going to be allowed to make this choice? If we got married, I'd be leaving with Pavel to go live interstate. I'd be far from family and home. I'd likely need to change jobs, although it was possible that my workplace could just relocate me to one of the Interstate branches. I'd need to ask them.
But wait. I had to keep my head on straight here first. One thing at a time.
Did I want to spend my life with the best lap pillow I had ever met? Did I want to spend my life with this relatively ugly but otherwise beautiful man? We barely knew each other. This was only my second or third meeting with him. Could I make such a big and important life decisions right now while I was feeling so unwell?
Was it alright to marry him when I was really only using him to escape my family and frustrations in life? No, right? I shouldn't trouble him. It wasn't fair to him.
My vision cut out and gentle hands caught me.
"She's still feeling unwell. Too much stimulation probably isn't good for her," Pavel said, ignoring my mother's protests when he scooped me up into his arms. "I'll carry her to the car and follow you home so that I can help carry her inside to her bed. Since I've said it, I will do it. Since you want me to take responsibility for her, I'm willing. I'm willing to marry your daughter and make her mine, to love her, protect her and take care of her for the rest of my life. In sickness or health. Your daughter is beautiful and lovely inside and out. If she's willing to be with me, I definitely will make sure she doesn't regret her decision."
"Whoa, Pavel is so handsome," squealed an office girl while the other office workers gave scattered applause. "This is the most handsome I've ever seen him."
I leaned my head against Pavel's chest and sighed.
"Honey, if you're awake, walk on your own two legs," my mother warned me. "Don't cause trouble for others."
"It's no trouble to hold and carry my own wife if she isn't feeling well," Pavel replied with alacrity, making my mother raise both eyebrows and the other office workers squeal with excitement.
My mother snorted.
"She hasn't agreed yet. If she doesn't agree, I definitely won't agree. I promised my daughter that her marriage would be completely her own choice. I won't meddle in it."
I looked up at Pavel with tired eyes.
Oh. So it really was my decision, huh? She wasn't going to keep making decisions for me? Since she had said so, I had to take the chance before she changed her mind. Once she changed her mind, I might never be able to escape again.
Sorry, Pavel. Fair or unfair, I have to take this once in a lifetime opportunity to escape the clutches of the evil queen.
Pavel's eyes met mine.
Slowly, stiffly, and shakily, I wrapped my arms around him in a hug.
"Thank you," I whispered in his ear.
"Then you agree?" Pavel paused and put me down on a seat near the front door of the office, crouching down in front of me. "Think it through. Think carefully. This is a big life decision. Don't be impulsive. Once you say it, there's no going back. I'll only have you, this one woman, in my whole entire life. You can't regret it. I won't let you go even if you do."
I trembled under the weight of his gaze, unable to speak for a moment.
"Alright," my mother clicked her tongue in annoyance. "If you don't want to marry him, just say so. No need for all this hesitation. Don't prolong people's home time. Since you're alright, get up and walk to the car. You can go home to sleep."
"I agree," I blurted out. "I'll marry you," I said to Pavel. "I agree."
There was silence in the office once more.
"I wasn't expecting that," said the office girl whose name started with an M. "I suppose congratulations are in order now?"
Pavel's eyes were on me, as if trying to determine how serious I was about this. After all, he himself knew how faint the chances of me agreeing were.
"Honey," my mother interrupted our silent conversation. "Are you sure? Harsh as this may sound, although Pavel is a wonderful gentleman, he's ugly, looks older than he is, poor and is balding. Nothing like the type of man you would prefer."
And here she was throwing invisible daggers to try and tear down any chances at a relationship. Trying to make Pavel doubt me before we had even gotten started. This was how she always dealt with the people around me. Made them doubt me until they chose to stay away for their own safety. Just in case I was that nasty backstabbing person my mother often made me out to be.
"I thought you said that looks didn't matter," I stuttered as I dredged up the confidence to talk back to my mother and defend the man who looked slightly taken aback. "I thought it was the character and the heart that mattered. You told me just earlier today that he was a great catch and if I was willing to go out with him, you'd give your blessing and be able to rest assured? Didn't you say that he had great prospects and potential? Even if he's poor now, with his natural leadership ability and his intelligence, he will definitely not be poor forever. I'm not that superficial."
Actually, I was, but nobody needed to know that. I was just happy that I might be able to keep this lap pillow to myself in the future. Looks didn't matter anymore.
"He's healthy, has all his working parts, is more generous than me. He's kind and compassionate. Graceful and gentle. I've never met someone who has treated me as well as he does," I said in a shaking voice, clutching hold of Pavel so that I wouldn't fall off the chair and to the ground.
My heart was beating so fast that it was hard to catch my breath. My vision was blacking out again. I was so scared that I felt like I was having a panic attack, cringing and hunching my shoulders, half expecting a heavy slap to come my way.
It never came.
Pavel had enveloped me in in his arms and was patting my back in a calm and unharried manner.
"Calm down," he said in a low voice. "You're ok. Breathe in. Breathe out. Just focus on breathing. Calm down. Everything is going to be ok."
When I glanced up, I saw the corners of my mother's lips twitching and jumping. I had never seen her make this expression before. It scared me.
Pavel's hands on my cheeks turned my attention back to him while he crouched in front of me.
"Now that you have agreed, from now on, you are my woman. You will be my wife. I'm going to go to your house and tuck you into bed tonight. You have a good rest and get better soon. I'll inform my parents tonight. And then I'll be in contact to organise the engagement and wedding. In fact, let's skip the engagement altogether and go straight to the wedding."
I stared at him with some bewilderment, not knowing what to say or do while congratulations from the other office people rang out. Things were happening too quickly for me to process. My mother didn't say a word.
"You all help me lock up the office. I'll head off first," Pavel told the other office staff and then scooped me up into his arms, kissing me on the forehead.
The gentle touch of his lips made me freeze in shock.
I couldn't help staring at him and feeling my entire body turning red. Why had he done that? In front of so many people. Why had he kissed me? Did he really care for me? Did he really like me? Or was he just declaring his ownership of me? What did it mean?
I had barely come to when I found myself being settled into the front passenger seat of the car where he was hugging me in order to put my seatbelt on for me. Another kiss landed on my forehead, stunning me once more and making him smile at my reaction.
"I'll see you at your house," he dabbed my nose with his finger and closed the car door.
My mother got into the car, grumbling under her breath. After starting the car, she hit me with her hand a few times.
"I really didn't see that coming," she muttered. "I misjudged things. He must have already fallen in love with you. Otherwise why did he agree to take responsibility so quickly? Don't tell me he did something to you while I was out during the afternoon? How could you side with strangers and embarrass your own mother?" she hit me when we had stopped at the traffic light, but her heart wasn't really in it. "How dare you gang up with an outsider to refute your own mother? Have you no shame? No respect for your own family? What you did is not just pull down my face but the face of the entire family. No. I have to tell the old man and your brothers to teach you a lesson."
"I'm going to get married now. Are you happy?" I murmured.
"To an old and ugly man?" my mother snorted, hitting me again when the traffic light turned green. "He might be a nice guy, but you deserve better. Somebody richer with a more stable job. Somebody who can bring money home so that you don't have to dig and scrape to bring up children in the future. He's planning to take you interstate by the end of the year. What am I supposed to do? How is it possible to organise a wedding in half a year's time? And he's planning to bring you to meet his parents. No mention of bringing me and your father along to meet his parents. What kind of respect and responsibility is this? He's the nicest person you have ever met? You're really so young and naïve. Really not presentable," my mother said, driving and hitting me every few words for emphasis, while the car wobbled and swerved every now and then. "What were you thinking, agreeing to such an unromantic proposal? No ring. No flowers. No candles. No money. Just a spur of the moment impulse. He's just after your body and your good looks, settling for you because he knows he won't be able to find another better, more gullible or obedient girl. Are you an idiot? Agreeing so quickly on the spot? Couldn't you have stalled for time? Now you've done it. You've really done it. This type of man, he seems gentle on the outside but is actually a very possessive and domineering man. He's the jealous type. The controlling and manipulative type."
"Oh. Then it won't be any different from my current life," I muttered under my breath.
"What did you say? What did you say?" my mother shrieked, forgetting that she was driving and turning around to hit me with both hands. "How dare you?"
"Mum, pay attention to the road!" I shouted, breaking out into a cold sweat and taking hold of the steering wheel, trying to keep the car straight in the lane while cringing under the flurry of my mother's hands.
My mother took back the steering wheel and glanced at me, speaking through her teeth.
"Just you wait until we get home. It seems I haven't taught you well in the past and you need to learn all over again how to respect your parents and be human."
I shrank myself in my seat and closed my eyes, feeling the stinging pain from where my face had gotten a bit scratched by her nails.
The car door I was leaning against opened, waking me up. Pavel leaned in to unclip my seatbelt and then paused. He turned my face this way and that, hissing through his teeth.
"No wonder the car was swaying and erratic on the way back," he muttered. "Does it hurt?"
I shook my head.
"Good. I'm taking you home. To my home where I can keep an eye on you, keep you safe and protect you," he said. "Don't make a fuss, ok?"
He gathered me into his arms and I held onto him, leaning my tired head on his shoulder. I felt him carry me into a car that smelled like him.
"Pavel, what are you doing?" came my mother's sharp voice while Pavel buckled me in.
"Honey didn't have bruises, swelling and scactches on her face when she left the office," Pavel said to my mother in a low voice filled with cold intensity, closing the door of the car. "Given the state she is in, I don't trust you to take care of her, so I am taking her home. Don't worry. I will be a gentleman and won't touch her. What she needs is somewhere to rest and recover. Not to be attacked and injured."
"You-you-you," my mother pointed her finger and stuttered, unable to get a second word out.
Before she could come to her senses, Pavel had already gotten in his car to drive me away. I shrank in the seat and watched the figure of my mother fade away. And then I closed my eyes, unsure whether I should feel relieved or nervous. What if this man wasn't as gentlemanly or safe as I thought?
Pavel didn't speak during the drive and I must have fallen asleep, because when I woke up, I was beling laid on a bed. My shoes and coat were taken off and I was tucked in under fresh smelling blankets. A warm kiss brushed my forehead.
"Sleep well, my Honey. Don't you worry about anything. I'll take care of it all. I'll be here when you wake up."