Why wasn’t Mack at least putting her head round the door to wish her father happy birthday?
Anxiety gnawed at the edges of her happiness. It wasn’t that long ago that Mack would have come charging into the bedroom proudly carrying the birthday card she’d made herself. She would have leaped into the middle of the bed and the three of them would have snuggled together. Even when she’d hit the teenage years, Mack had been easygoing.
All that had changed a month before. Overnight she’d transformed into a sullen, moody caricature of a teenager and Lauren couldn’t put her finger on why.
The Christmas holidays had been stressful. Ed, who rarely took time off, had reacted badly to the tension and Lauren had taken on the role of peacekeeper. As a result, she’d spent most of the festive period with tight knots in her stomach.
“Do you think it’s a phase, or is this it?”
Ed stirred. “Is this what?”
The way she’s going to be for the rest of her life.
She didn’t voice her thoughts.
Today was Ed’s birthday, and she had a party to run.
Thinking of everything she had to do to make it perfect made her fidget.
This being Friday, she was meeting her friends Ruth and Helen at ten o’clock in their favorite coffee shop, which happened to be exactly thirty-five steps from the hairdresser where Lauren had an appointment exactly forty-five minutes later. By eleven thirty she’d be at the florist and after a fifteen-minute walk home—ticking the boxes for both steps and sunshine—the rest of the day was devoted to making final preparations for the party.
“Ed—” She nudged him again. “Wake up, honey. I need to give you your gift before I head downstairs. I have the whole day planned out to the minute.”
Ed finally opened his eyes. “When have you ever not had the whole day planned out to the minute? If I ever invent an organization app, I’m calling it The Lauren.”
Was that a criticism?
“It’s important to take control, otherwise time drifts.”
Lauren had other reasons for keeping control on life, but she and Ed never talked about that. Sometimes she wondered if he remembered. Time had a way of fading events until they were distant and indistinct. It was like hanging a painting in sunlight. Lines blurred and colors lost some of their sharpness.
Occasionally her mind drifted there, but mostly she managed to keep herself in the present.
Hoping to stir him into action, she threw back the covers and stood up. Usually she started with a few yoga stretches, but today she was distracted by the thought of Mack downstairs in the kitchen.
Why was she up so early?
Perhaps she was making a surprise birthday breakfast for Ed.
Or maybe that was wishful thinking.
Lauren walked to the window and glanced into the street.
With luck today would be one of those perfect sunny winter days, but this being London it was unlikely. As long as th
eir guests didn’t have to battle snow, she wasn’t going to complain. England, she’d discovered years before, didn’t cope well with snow. Ten large flakes were all that was required to send the country into a screaming panic.
Ed finally heaved himself out of bed, too.
Lauren turned and studied his hunched form. “Are you okay?”
He turned his head to look at her, distracted. “What?”
“You look tired.”
“I am tired. I could lie in bed for a month and not move.”
She decided the time for subtlety had passed. “You should see a doctor.” Why was it men needed to be told that?