The Aftermath, Gail Schimmel [sneezy the snowman read aloud .txt] 📗

thinking it’s 1972 and wondering what they’ll have for lunch. The doctors said that absolutely couldn’t happen to my dad, and that it actually barely ever happens, and when it does the person is profoundly brain damaged, or wasn’t actually in a coma at all, and that no one actually understands how my dad isn’t dead. But I bet the doctors of the people who woke up said the same thing. After all, there’s only so much that medical science can explain. It’s not even like he’s on life support, so obviously some part of his brain is working. And the doctors have to be careful not to give false hope, so they downplay the fact that people sometimes wake up. There’s a part of me that really believes it will happen for us one day, and then my mum will be alright and we’ll all be happy. I believe it so much that I sometimes worry about all the personal things I’ve told him – I’ve found myself whispering, ‘Don’t tell Mum, but . . .’

I wasn’t worried about asking the doctors if he’d wake up because I knew they’d have to say no. But I was too scared to ask my mother. Alice says I’m scared she’ll say no too. But Alice doesn’t realise that wouldn’t change anything – I know my dad is still alive in that body. I know he could wake up one day. I think my mum also believes it.

I can’t wait to introduce him to Daniel. I can’t wait to place my baby into my dad’s arms. Maybe that will shake him out of his coma.

Then everybody will live happily ever after.

THURSDAY

Claire

Thursday is the day I spend the morning at the hotel, catching up on news I can use in tweets and Facebook posts over the coming week, taking photos and checking in on event planning. It’s a pain because I’m less flexible, but I also quite like that I’m less flexible. I imagine this is how it is for women who work full time. ‘No,’ they can say – to the class mum request, to the coffee, to the volunteer work, to the cake sale, to the lift shares – ‘no, I will be at work.’

Once, before everything went wrong, I told Daniel about this fantasy. A life in which I could say no.

‘But Claire,’ he said, ‘even if you were the CEO of Apple, you wouldn’t say no. It’s not in your nature. You’d be running Apple and still doing every cake sale and every charity event and answering every cry for help. Apple’s profits would probably double with you in charge, but you’d be even more of a wreck.’ He was probably right, as much as I hate to admit it.

Anyway, he’s gone now. New start. New attitude. And today my goal is to say no to one request.

My chance comes early in the day – Janice corners me at drop-off.

‘Claire, darling,’ she says, and we air-kiss. ‘How are you?’

I immediately know she wants something – it’s the stress on the ‘are’, to convince me she really cares. Given that she knows absolutely nothing about my life, an honest answer would kill her.

‘Lovely,’ I answer. ‘And you are looking so beautiful.’ She isn’t really. She’s dyed her hair a really strange colour and looks like a giant aubergine. ‘Your hair is divine.’

Janice tosses her head. ‘Do you really think so? I’m not sure.’

What I want to say is that I don’t have all day to stand around giving people therapy about bad hair decisions, and that frankly she looks like a member of a hippy coven. I take a deep breath, knowing this anger is not really because of Janice at all.

‘You look fab,’ I say. ‘Must run now.’

‘Oh, Claire.’ She touches my arm as I try to make my getaway. ‘I wanted to ask you – we need someone on the board for my breast cancer charity. I wondered if you’d be interested? You’re the best person I can think of, and I know you really care about the cause.’

This is my opportunity to say no, and a good one because I actually want to. I care about breast cancer in that I hope people stop getting it one day, and I think it’s very sad that people die from it, and I certainly don’t want to get it myself, but I don’t want to be on the board. I am absolutely clear about this.

‘Janice,’ I say firmly, and then look at her big, hopeful eyes, blue irises ringed with a darker outline. ‘Um . . . send me some info, okay? Not promising anything, but let me see what’s involved.’

‘Oh, thank you!’ She hugs me warmly. ‘You are the best, Claire, you really are.’

I feel good, but also stupid and useless and spineless. As she turns to walk away, I call her. ‘Janice,’ I say, ‘you have really beautiful eyes. I think your new hair colour makes them stand out more.’

Janice smiles and blows me a kiss, and I wonder how much time being on the board of a breast cancer charity can really take. I’ve got a whole lot of extra time after all, what with being single again.

I’m intercepted on my way to the car by Liandri. She has her new baby with her, and I don’t think she’s brushed her hair.

‘Thank you for that lasagne yesterday, Claire. It saved the day. Jan thinks I’m superwoman for having such a divine meal on the table – I didn’t tell him you’re actually the superwoman.’

I laugh. ‘It was no problem, Li,’ I say. ‘I remember how it was when Mackenzie was born, and I can only imagine what a second must be like.’

I’m hit by a sudden moment of sadness. Daniel and I started trying for a second baby a while ago, unsuccessfully. I guess now I’ll never know what a second child is like.

Liandri looks like she might start to cry. ‘It’s