Page 69 of Exchange of Heart

‘I didn’t realise,’ I whispered.

Corey shrugged. ‘It is what it is.’

Oliver narrowed his eyes in suspicion, neither of us making any sense to him.

‘So, ah, Mum’s making lentil lasagne for dinner.’ Rowan tried to lighten the mood.

Since scrolling across a reel about animal rights, Mum declared her house a meat-free zone. The problem was, she refused to follow recipes and didn’t remember all the different types of lentils, especially the red ones which turn to mush. It made for interesting lentil salads. One night, we’d scooped up globs with smiles on our faces, waiting for Mum’s scrunched-up face to admit it was horrendous before ordering takeout. Despite all of this, she refused to change the nickname she’d given me after insisting that’s what she’d eaten the night she’d conceived me. That little piece of information I could never forget no matter how hard I tried, making me shudder every time I see it listed on menus.

‘How was work?’ We must have said her name three times, because she appeared from the kitchen like Beetlejuice.

Her dark bob framed her face, making her brown eyes appear deeper. She wrapped her arms around Corey in a way that only a mothers could. Like a weighted blanket during a storm, or a mug of tea warming your insides while the wind whipped your body. I wished it was my body she was hugging and closed my eyes to let my imagination cure that ache.

‘It was good,’ Corey replied.

‘Did you get that promotion?’ Her brown puppy eyes were still successful at fifty-four years of age.

I’d hidden from the truth for an entire week, and now thanks to my cowardice, Corey needed to break the news to her.

‘No,’ Corey flinched, making my eyes shrink the same way his normally did.

I recognised it from when I yelled at him in class, or when he realised he’d said something that had annoyed me, or the time I’d accidentally stapled my finger. He wasn’t being smug when they shrunk; they shrank in sympathy.

The tea towel in her hand whipped the wall as she threw her arm down with force.

‘It’s fine, Mum. They’ll see Freddie wasn’t the right choice soon enough. Reports will pile up; he probably doesn’t know how to analyse half the data he’ll receive. He worked in legal which they think is a bonus, but I think it means he’ll be too worried to take any risks.’

Corey snuck me a soft smile that pinched my heart with a comforting squeeze.

Mum frowned and shoved her hands on her hips. ‘A bunch of corporate dicks. That’s what they’d have if that boss of yours had it his way. Every conference would be a sausage party and—’

‘I saved a life today,’ Oliver interrupted. ‘There was this ant, and he was walking along the basin when I went to wash my hands.’

Mum rearranged her features three times before successfully showing interest in my twenty-six-year-old brother’s ridiculous story while I hid my grin, knowing this was for no reason other than to avoid the oncoming speech of knocking down the patriarchy.

‘So, I grabbed a piece of toilet paper and flattened it to the sink, waited for the ant to walk on it, then carried him outside,’ Oliver finished.

‘Such a hero,’ Rowan laughed.

‘Every life is important,’ Mum insisted. ‘Now, I’ve been rude.’ She turned to me. ‘You must be Corey. It’s lovely to meet you.’

My face warmed and I wanted to release the pressure of tears sitting behind my eyes. I wanted her motherly hug and advice. I wanted my body, my family, and my life back. Instead, I remained where I was and played the part of her daughter’s friend.

‘It’s lovely to meet you, Ms Claremont.’

‘Oh, please. Call me Julia.’

I didn’t want to call her Julia. I wanted to call her Mum.

‘Nice to meet you, Julia.’

Rowan handed drinks around the living room while Oliver told us about his latest shift. Cosied up next to Corey on the two-seater, I had no choice but to rest my arm over the back. Hints of peppermint and lemon mingled between us, but I could no longer tell where the smells originated from. We’d mixed into our own unique fragrance. If it had a name, it would be Possessed and Confused.

‘Isn’t there meant to be, like, client confidentiality and all that?’ I asked.

‘I’m not giving you specifics. I’m only saying this guy came in, triaged as emergency, doctor came straight away, then left me to deal with the downfall because the guy had lied so he could be seen sooner, all for a twisted ankle. I mean, seriously. What if someone died in the waiting room because of that bloody idiot?’

Mum nodded encouragingly then turned to me. Her eyes were hungry for information about the boy her daughter had brought home. I’d caught her sneaking glances and calculating the distance between us. Checking if our hands were touching, any loving gestures, any hint of what could be going on. ‘Corey, tell us about your job.’