Letters to Claire

'Not at the park!!'

I chuckled and agreed that no, not at the park.

I had a lot of casual sex before I met my wife. My father's promiscuity had taught me one thing; if you try hard enough, you will eventually get laid, and I was horny enough to not mind the rejections. Hey, if a woman didn't want me, why make a pest of myself? I'd fucked women in bathroom stalls, in the back of my ute, in their parent's beds and just about every other conceivable location.

There had been sex since Claire died. The first time was less than ten days after she passed, although that one was driven by grief and despair, and it was shit. Afterwards, I'd driven home crying, well over the blood alcohol limit and wishing I hadn't done it. All the same, it had been easy to arrange for a babysitter for Luther because I'd been living near family and they were keen to babysit Luther for me, to give me a break. I couldn't organise sex per se, but I could organise to meet women, so that if sex was wanted by both parties, it could take place. Now I'd moved away, and I had no friends or family in Ipswich.

I wanted Marnie. In the cold, hard reality of day, I wanted her, I liked her, and I doubted I'd feel any regrets the morning after but the logistics of it all were going to be trying. Presuming, of course, that she was keen for some nonsense, but my sixth sense told me she was. Not at the park, obviously, but if we could manage to sneak away from our kids.

I'd just have to wait and see. Well, that and try and dig out some clothes that weren't from a cheap chain store.

~~~~~~

I got lost trying to find the animals at Queens Park, and was five minutes late by the time I got there, even though I'd planned on arriving ten minutes' early.

Marnie was waiting with her kids. The younger one was in a sling, and the five year old was swinging around trees, singing and asking six hundred questions, but it was their mum their I noticed. I'd never seen her in shorts before. She had them on now, mid-length khaki ones, along with a black top and sandals, and I saw she had tatts not only on her arm but her legs. I wasn't really sold on the ink, but she'd held up well for two kids.

Luther tugged on my hand. 'Daddy, I need to do a poo.'

Fuck me. Kids.

I took him to the bathroom and coached him through taking a shit, while wondering if I'd ever made my parents 'stay and talk' while I cut a log. I certainly fucking hoped not, but given that in my teens I'd asked a girlfriend to watch me have a wank, it probably wasn't outside the realms of reality.

'All done,' Luther declared.

An arse was wiped. Hands were washed. It was as we were washing our hands that Marnie's eldest daughter decided that she, too, needed to poo.

Twenty minutes after we were due to meet, Marnie and I and our respective offspring were ready to tour the animals. I knew her elder daughter, Edith, or Edie, or whatever you wanted to call her, because she attended prep at the same school Marnie and I worked at. Edie took a minute to ponder why I was hanging out with her Mum on the weekend, but when I said 'for a playdate' it seemed to satisfy her curiosity. She took Luther's hand and dragged him away to see the lace monitor.

'Kids, right?' Marnie remarked.

'Yeah, it hasn't exactly panned out the way I was thinking,' I admitted. I checked out the baby in her sling. It was staring at me with wide, dark brown eyes. 'I'm counting down to school holidays. I leave Luther in day care for three days I week so I can catch up on some house maintenance and get some down time.'

'I love school holidays and hate them at the same time. It's good to have more time with the kids, but I'm also broke, because I only get paid for the hours I work and school holidays means no work and no pay.'

'Does the canteen pay well?'

'Nah, it's rubbish. Even during term time I'm still eligible for a part pension. During the holidays I get the full rate, but it's a lot less money than working, so it gets tight.' She adjusted Jasmine's position in the sling. 'I always try and set a bit of money aside during term time so we can go to parks that are further away from home, or the museum, or into Southbank without stressing about the cost.'

I wondered if she regretted deciding to fall pregnant to someone who didn't want to commit before a baby, let alone after it. Even if I hadn't received a life insurance payout, I wouldn't have needed to rely on welfare. My pay was earned during term time but averaged out over the course of the year, and if you were careful, it would be enough to see you through. As a single parent, the government was essentially paying my childcare bill, and I got a small amount in tax benefit on top of that.

We walked through the animal enclosure. Luther and Edith were having a great time. As we followed them, Marnie and I talked. She was missing any sort of filter, and whatever popped into her brain came out her mouth, but I didn't mind. She was the sort of woman who made you know where you stood, and there was no pretence, not jealousy, no bullshit, no nothing.

There was a playground in the park, too, and after we'd seen the animals, we went over. Marnie took off the sling and removed Jasmine, letting her sit on the ground and scrunch up a leaf while we sat on a bench and continued to talk. Luther and Edith were playing with a water pump and getting themselves drenched in the process. I was thinking about how I might ask Marnie out to dinner or something. I was twenty-five; it was probably time to do the right thing and actually go on a date. Hitherto, every other relationship had formed out of what was supposed to be a one night stand, so this was new territory.

'Jazz, no, it's not for eating,' Marnie told her daughter, pulling the leaf from the child's fist as she attempted to put it in her mouth. 'I'll give you a rusk.'

The infant wailed at the loss of the leaf and the appearance of a rusk, plucked from a pocket on the sling, did nothing to calm her. She wasn't having a bar of it. Marnie sighed and picked her up, patted her back and tried to get her to stop crying.

That's when shit took a path I wasn't expecting. The baby was grabbing at her mother's top and despite Marnie's efforts to stop her, the child kept clawing at her shirt.

'Are you one of those people who are squeamish about breastfeeding?' Marnie asked.

My gaze fixed on the Jasmine, tugging at Marnie's top. Marnie's boobs were quite big compared to the rest of her body, and I guessed that nursing was the reason why.

'No, I'm all good,' I lied.

'I can go and feed her in the bathroom if you prefer, if you don't mind keeping an eye on Edith for me. I don't have a blanket or anything with me. I was hoping to stretch out the feed a bit more, but obviously Jazz isn't keen on that idea.'

'No, no, feed her here.' There were plenty of people cooking barbeques and eating lunch near us. This wasn't the time to be a jackass. 'Everyone else is eating, right?'

Marnie moved her daughter into the right position, adjusted her shirt and unclipped her nursing bra. She pulled a nursing pad out of the cup of the bra, tucked it under the shoulder strap, and held Jasmine to her breast. The child latched on straight away, and the cries ceased, replaced by a few muffled 'mmm, mmm, mmm' sounds, before it settled down and stopped making any noise whatsoever.

I could smell her milk. It sounds crazy, but I could. It was the same thing I'd smelt on her when she'd been digging potatoes with me. No wonder it had made me think of Claire. My wife hadn't breastfed Luther for longer than a month or two before switching to formula, but suddenly I remembered things I thought I'd forgotten; cracked nipples, rock hard breasts streaked with blue veins, and the predatory way Luther had attacked her tits.

Marnie's exposed breast was large and filled with milk, and I could see some of her dark red areola, even around Jasmine's mouth. There were the faint, silvery remains of stretch marks, from her boobs having quickly expanded during pregnancy and breastfeeding, and I was struck by the urge to touch them, and to taste her milk. I'd tried to sample Claire's milk once, but she'd pushed me away and said 'no, Neal, don't' in such a way that it was abundantly clear that my curiosity disgusted her.

'Dad,' Luther said, running up and lunging at me. 'I'm hungry!'

It took me a few seconds to realise I'd been so captivated in what Marnie was doing that I'd entirely failed to keep an eye on my son. I picked him up and sat him on my lap. Edith had also approached and was claiming she was 'starving'.

Luther stared at Marnie. 'What are you doing?'

'She's feeding the baby,' I replied, embarrassed.

'It sucks the milk out of her boobies,' Edith told him. 'Like a cow.'

'Oh,' said Luther. He shrugged. 'I'm hungry. Can we eat? I saw a sign for ice-cream, so there must be an ice cream store nearby.'

There was a café in the park. I'd seen the signs earlier, including the noteworthy ice-cream sign. I turned to Marnie. She was hunched forward uncomfortably, trying not to expose too much of herself. Maybe it was because I'd stared for just a few seconds too long, or maybe it was because Luther hadn't known what she was doing, but I felt bad. Guilty. She was feeding a baby, for fuck's sake. It was completely natural and normal.

I wanted to ask her to go to the café for lunch with me, but I didn't want to make her any more uncomfortable than she already was. I turned my attention back to my son.

'It's time to go home,' I told Luther. 'I'll get you a Happy Meal.'

'I don't want to go,' he said.

'I have snacks in my car,' Marnie offered.

I shook my head. 'Nah, you're all good. We'll get out of your hair.'

There was something in her face, some expression I couldn't had to read. Until then, she'd been so down the line that I hadn't had to try and read her thoughts, because she'd told me everything she was thinking.

'Have a good weekend, hey?' I asked her.

~~~~~~~~~~~

A week later I was back in my hometown. Luther was with Claire's parents. No doubt they'd talk to him about God and whatnot, and they'd take him to church in the morning, but it was worth it for a night away. Plus, they loved him and he loved them.

I met up with Floyd, and our mate Sean, for dinner. We had a drink at the bar first, and we talked about the easy shit. We asked Floyd about his baby and his wife. He said they were doing better, each day was an improvement, but it was the first and last child they'd be having. They were only months into parenthood and already broken. Sean was living with his latest girlfriend but they didn't have kids yet, so I don't think he really 'got it', but I did. There were periods that just fucking broke you.

'I thought Ryan would be here by now,' Sean remarked, obviously sick of talking about kids and drinking in a bar instead of eating dinner. He wasn't a small guy and he didn't like being hungry.

'He's not coming,' Floyd replied.

'Really?' Sean asked. 'He texted me last night and said he was.'

I hadn't been in contact with Ryan since the Georgie incident. That wasn't unusual these days, not now that I was a single father, but once upon a time we'd communicated a lot. All of us had, actually. Claire used to jokingly call the guys my 'boyfriends'.

'No,' Floyd clarified. 'He's not coming. He messaged me earlier today.'

'Work?' Sean guessed.

'He usually drives back for catch ups,' I remarked. 'It's Saturday night. He's told me before that he rarely has to work a Sunday.'

'I don't really know,' Floyd replied evasively. 'He just said he couldn't make it.'

Sometimes you just know when someone's bullshitting you, and that whatever's going on relates to you. My bullshit meter was through the roof and Floyd was pointedly avoiding making eye contact with me.

'Is there something I'm missing here?' I asked. 'Is there something going on?'

Floyd shook his head. 'I don't think so, mate.'

Sean, who has never been too bright, and never had a sense of occasion, opened his mouth and gave me the answer. 'Floyd, d'ya rekcon this got something to do with Georgie claiming Neal assaulted her?' he asked Floyd.

Floyd confirmed our friend's hypothesis by glaring at him.

I was shocked. 'Assaulted her?'

Floyd realised the gig was up. He shrugged apologetically. 'They're back together. You know what sort of hold she has over him.'

'They're back together? Oh for fuck's sake.' I was pissed off. 'I didn't assault the stupid bitch. She was carrying on like a fuckwit and I made her leave. If that's what either of them consider assault, then fuck me, I'd hate to see what they think murder is, but I'm probably guilty of that, too.'

'Calm down,' Floyd ordered. 'You know she's a dog, I know she's a dog, Sean knows she's a dog. But for whatever reason, the moment she says 'jump', Ryan asks 'how high'. It's nothing to do with you personally. It's her proving that she's got control over him.'

I downed what remained of my beer. 'That's absolute bullshit. I didn't assault her.'

'I know, I know,' Floyd replied. 'Calm down. There's no point trying to reason with him. I knew you'd get upset. That's why I didn't tell you why he wasn't coming. Just let it roll off your back.'

I shook my head angrily. Christ, I was pissed off. Assault, for fuck's sake. Next thing she'd be accusing me of sexual assault because I didn't want to go near her feral-arse cunt.

'Let's get dinner,' Sean suggested.

'Sure,' I agreed. 'Good idea. Keep me away from any more alcohol, because otherwise I'm likely to get a skinful and go and tell that stupid cunt he's a first class fuckwit for giving that slut the time of day.'

Floyd and Sean wisely didn't respond.

We went to the bistro and ordered. I was still angry. There's something quite terrible about being hated by a woman when you're single. I would have tolerated the whole thing much better if Claire was still alive, and there to give me a hug, tell me not to do anything stupid and agree that yes, Georgie was a shitty example of her sex.

I excused myself and headed to the bathroom, where I went to a stall and shut the door behind me. I lowered the lid of the toilet, sat down, and pulled my phone from my pocket.

I'm going to kill Georgie. And Ryan. Apparently I ASSAULTED Georgie? Oh for fuck's sake. Can you remember what I told you about that night? Did it sound like assault to you? Am I going out of mind? Do they have a point?

Love you,

Neal

I sent it to Claire's number. I waited until the message showed as 'delivered', then shoved my phone back in my pocket. It might sound stupid, but taking the time out to text my dead wife helped. It helped immensely.

I made my way back to the table. Sean and Floyd had evidently been discussing me, or Ryan, or some combination thereof, because they shut up the second they saw me.

For a little while it was uncomfortable, but then Floyd spoke.

'How did last weekend go with the new girl?' he asked.

'Yeah, great until she flopped out a tit and started breastfeeding the youngest kid,' I replied, still grumpy.

'That, uh, that would be surprising,' Sean agreed. 'Did she have a good set?'

I buried my head in my hands and shook my head in disbelief.

'You didn't just ask what I thought you did, did you?' Floyd asked him.

'Sure I did,' Sean confirmed. 'Tits are tits, right? And this way, if Neal wakes up hungry, he just needs to roll over and get a mouthful of titty.'

Floyd was flabbergasted. 'Norman men,' he said slowly. 'Don't look at their lactating partners and think 'I'd love to stick that nipple in my mouth and start sucking'.'

'I would,' Sean said. 'You haven't tried Paige's milk?'

'She's bottle feeding now,' Floyd replied.

'Neal?' Sean asked. 'Did you ever give Claire a try?'

'She wouldn't let me,' I replied.

'Ha!' Sean was triumphant. 'See?' he said to Floyd. 'It's perfectly fucking normal to try your partner's milk.'

'No, it's not,' he argued, throwing his napkin onto the table in disgust. 'You two are sad, fucked up individuals who obviously didn't get enough love from their mummies. But if adult breastfeeding's your thing, don't let me hold you back. Just cut me a favour and don't talk about it right now. I can see our food coming, and the last thing I want a mental image of is either of you two fighting a baby for milk rights.'

Sean laughed so hard I thought he was going to have a heart attack.

All I could think was that Marnie and I hadn't spoken since the trip to Queens Park, and that maybe I should remedy that. I liked her, milky tits and all. Maybe I even liked her just that little bit more because of them, but I wasn't quiet ready to admit that to myself just yet. It seemed... fetish like. And I wasn't one of those weirdos who got off on women using their boobs just as nature intended.

~~~~~~~

'Hey, have you got a minute?' I asked Marnie.

She was in the middle of mopping the canteen floor. Of course she didn't have a minute. She was busy. But I was nervous, and being nervous has always made me act like a muppet. You don't need a long neck and feathers to be a goose, as my old boss used to say.

'Yeah, sure,' she replied, stopping and leaning against the mop. 'Is the magpie bothering kids again?'

'No, no, it's nothing to do with the magpie. I just wanted to say sorry about the other week at the park. I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable.'

She smiled at me, but it was a fake smile. 'You didn't. It's okay. I probably should have taken her to the bathroom.'

I shook my head. 'No. I just... look, you were really upfront with me that day, about your life, your kids' fathers, past drug use, everything, so I'm going to take a chance and be just as upfront as you were. I was trying to figure out a way to ask you out when you started feeding your child. I don't know why, I'm probably just a bit immature, but it weirded me out. And then there was Luther, asking what you were doing, and I thought 'well, fuck, this woman probably wants us to fuck off'.'

Marnie smiled again, but it was a genuine one this time. 'We've started being honest, so let's stick with that theme. I knew you were going to ask me out, and I was going to say 'yes', if I could logistically figure out a way to get someone to look after the kids. And as for breastfeeding, I tried to wean Jazzy two months ago but she wouldn't have a bar of it. She won't even take a bottle of expressed milk. It makes it tough when she won't take a bottle and can't go more than four hours without milk.'

'Is that why you had to rush off when we were digging potatoes?'

She nodded. 'Yep. She goes to the day care centre across the road, so normally I go over just after lunch and feed her. Then I come back, finish off work, collect Edith, and go and pick up Jasmine.'

'Wow.'

'Yeah. Fun times.' She picked up the mop. 'You got any plans for school holidays next week?'

'I'm going to go and stay with my old man for a bit. There's a small house on his farm that we lived in when I was a kid, back when my grandparents were still alive. I'm going to stay there.' I thought about what she'd said, about struggling for money during school holidays, and not having any access to baby-sitters. 'You know, you'd be more than welcome to come along for a couple of days. He has plenty of sheep.'

She laughed. 'Plenty of sheep? That sounds like an offer I can't refuse.'

'I'm serious,' I argued. 'There's more than sheep. And, you know, no pressure, either. You'd have your own room.'

'Am I supposed to be impressed that you're a gentleman, or disappointed that you're not so overcome with desire that you'd do anything to get your end wet?'