Complicated Happiness
“What do you mean, we’re getting a divorce? Denis, is this a joke?”
Olivia stared at her husband, trying to make sense of his words. Divorce? They’d been together for nearly twenty-five years! Their silver anniversary was in just two weeks… Was it off now? Her thoughts scrambled. What about the celebration, the guests? The invitations were already sent… Everyone planned to come. The entire family, friends calling non-stop, asking what presents to bring… Juliether dearest friendhad already posted her gift. A shame she couldn’t make it, but at nearly six months along, flying was out of the question. Better she stayed home; they’d see each other and celebrate again later. Juliet had been there from the start. She was the one who introduced Olivia to Denis at university, her cheeky friend whod been the loudest at Olivias wedding, shouting Kiss! and hiding behind the bridal bouquet when Olivia wouldn’t toss it and simply handed it to her instead.
Whats your Nick playing at? Hell miss out on such a lovely girl!
Hell come around in his own time, Juliet replied, fixing Olivias hair. I dont want an immature husband, O. What if I rush things, and two years later, its over and were splitting furniture and custody, just as his family finally starts to like me? No thanks! Ill wait for the right moment.
Ambitious plans for two years! Olivia howled with laughter, watching Juliet touch up her makeup with quick, frustrated strokes.
I dont do things by halves, Juliet retorted. Go big or go home!
And children, Jules? Straight to twins?
Yes! Get it all over with in one gothe full set! It runs in both our families, so who knows?
And then theres raising them
Two are easier than onehealthy competition, organised entertainment, and the Mother of the Year award for managing two at once. More reasons needed?
Thats plenty! laughed Olivia, privately certain Juliet would get everything she wanted.
She was right, except fate outdid Juliets plans. She didnt get twinsshe had triplets. The heavens, it seemed, wanted to test her resolve.
Juliet managed perfectly. Denis family grew to adore her steady, honest ways. She had no need to bow to anyone but was always there if neededmainly by motivating her husband to lend a hand, despite his disinterest in playing hero.
“One day, well need help, and wholl lift a finger for us?” shed repeat with her usual pragmatic foresight. “Want fried mushrooms with your tea? Pop to Mums and fix her new wardrobe firstand tell her Ill wash the windows next week.
So, when the babies arrived, two grandmothers and one grandfathera family missing only Juliets late dadwere on hand, any hour of the day. Juliet nursed the premature little ones back to strength, and a short while later, enrolled in university.
Juliet! Have you lost the plot? How will you manage everything?
Whos going to fail a mother of three? My brain wont atrophy, and after the break Ill be a qualified economist and lawyer rolled into one! Whats the harm?
Degree earned, Juliet found a job, confidently telling her employer the salary was sufficient to pay a nanny.
But you wont keep much! protested Olivia.
Firstly, no need for a nanny yetgrannies are up to the job. My employer neednt know that. Secondly, experience is what I need. Qualifications are nothing if you dont actually know the job.
Olivia marvelled at Juliets juggling skills. How did she keep pace without getting stuck, as Olivia so often did? Decision-making had always stumped Olivia, even as a child, struggling to choose which tights to wear.
But once you do choose, it’s right, Juliet would reassure her, Youre a born conservatorpeople you can trust.
Trustworthy… Well. Denis must have appreciated that reliability! How could he? Why now, when things were fine? Yes, not having children made things harder, but theyd accepted it. After volunteering at childrens homes, Olivia had realised she couldnt quite bring herself to adopta lack not of resources or effort, but a persistent fear she wouldnt be able to love a strangers child as her own. How do you know what it takes?
“You havent met your child yet,” Ms. Swanson, the headmistress of one childrens home, once told her, watching volunteer Olivia sombrely observe the children playing around the Christmas tree. “Youll know the oneyou wont be able to walk away, no matter what.”
“And if I never do? What if Im not meant to be a mother?”
“Then youre not. Thats kinder than the alternative: taking responsibility and failing. Ive seen plenty herechildren like little Michael, twice returned.”
“Good Lord! Hes just a boy! How old?”
“Six soon. He spent two years with his first family, then a year with another.”
“Why?”
“The first, after adopting him, had kids of their own. Common story, sad to say. The second just couldn’t copetwo of their own, three adopted, and Michael last. They simply ran out of love for him. He stopped eating, asked to go back to the home.”
“How…” Olivia shook.
“It happens. He wouldnt even drink, begged to be taken away because he wasnt loved. They tried sessions with psychologists, but eventually, he was sent back. Thats the worst fatea child who loses faith that anyone will ever keep him.”
The conversation left Olivia on the edge of despair; only Juliets voice brought her back. “Are you sure you have enough of that love? If its just pity, dont do it, or youll hurt him as others have. Want to borrow one of mine for a week?”
Olivia declined, never returning to the childrens home but sending help from afar, unable to forget Michaela lighthouse warning her to live without hurting anyone. This, she learned for good.
Olivia hugged herself, shivering. Why so cold? Autumn outside, heating well onshe should help Denis pack, perhaps? Which clothes would he needwinter things? Warm days were rare up north. At her mothers in the Cotswolds, winters felt so mildleather jacket all season, heavier coats only for trips to the mountains. What she wanted most, she realised suddenly, was to go to her motherto disappear into the hills for a few days, just the two of them and silence. But her mother was gone now. And Denis soon would be, too.
Freedom meant nothing without Denis. She wanted him backcoffee for breakfast or the middle of the night, late-night talks when neither could sleep, spontaneous trips to the West End or the countrysidetheir best days always unplanned, Denis ringing from work
Ollie, what are you doing?
Rushed off my feet! Two interviews, a bank meeting after
Oh, leave it, hey? Lets wander a bit.
And shed drop everything; an hour later, theyd be strolling the woods, talking nonsense, at peace.
That was past now. Shed remember, but Denis would move ona future with someone else, a woman expecting his child. Is that why he left, or had their whole marriage been a lie? She could almost accept the child… but the rest? That she wasnt enough, not even to make one person happy enough to never want to leave her…
Olivia stood in her kitchen, knees pressed against the radiator, trying to move but paralysed, hearing Denis pace the flat, drawers opening, doors closing. She shook so hard the pot of Juliet’s planther only houseplantteetered at the windows edge. The front door slammed at last. Olivia unclenched her fists, pressed them to the sill as if to snap it, straightened, swiped the pot onto the floor, and let out a wild, choking cry.
It didnt help. Seeing the spilling soil, the broken shards, grounded her. This was righther world now black as earth, devoid of light, with Denis gone. Alone, shed navigate by touch, no signposts left… Except maybe one.
She peeled herself from the radiator, walked barefoot through shattered crockery, ignoring the pain in her foot, found her mobile in the bedroom, and dialled.
Juuules
It was less a sob than an animal wail torn from pain, nothing more. That was all Juliet needed.
Denis left?
Yes
Okay. Ill see you tomorrow.
Dont you dare! Olivia snapped, instantly alert at Juliets brisk command. You mustnt. Please, Jules! I couldnt forgive myself if anything happened to you or the baby. Wait Olivia hesitated. You knew?!
I suspected. Last time you visited, Denis couldnt meet my eye. Now I get why. Ollie, its for the best.
What best? I dont want to go on! Ive lost everything, Julesdo you understand? Everything.
Buy yourself a dress.
What? Olivia almost dropped the phone.
Buy a dressthe one you refused because of the money. Do it now. Send me a photo after. Dont sit at home grieving! Buy the dress, then get on a train, or a flight. Im fine. Well go for a walk in the hills. I need it tooMums here, Feodor has his big tournament, the twins are off for training in Brighton. No better time. You need it less than I do! Ill be waiting for your travel details in half an hour. Dont keep a pregnant woman waiting!
Juliet hung up. Olivia set the phone down, dazed. Now what?
The answer came without thinking. Olivia rose and went to the mirror. There she wasall these years etched on her face. No girl any more, but not old either. Youth was long past, but she had no intention of giving up. If Denis expected her to fade into sorrowhed be disappointed. Juliet was right. She had to fight.
Olivia dragged her fingers through her hair, brushed away tears, straightened her back. Move. Sitting down now would mean never rising.
She typed out messages, cancelling her schedule and the party. A few phone calls and the restaurant, too, was called off.
And thenshe needed to sweep up. Forgetting both her vacuum cleaners, she fetched a broom and dustpan, cleaned the wreckage. A new pot could wait.
The dress fit perfectlya bold, bright red, unlike anything Olivia wore of late. Shed favoured muted shades, leaving the dramatic to Juliet, who always attracted attention effortlessly. But this evening, Olivia felt different. Why not? Wasnt she worthy of attention, too?
The mirror reflected a changed Oliviatired, upset, but unbowed. There was a spirit left, and no one could take it from her. If only she could get properly angry Perhaps it was because she understood why Denis left, too. He was used to her; theyd become more friends than spouses, and losing a friend always hurts worst. Oh, Denis, why didnt you say?
Her journey south had a change but that was a blessingsomething to distract her from gloom.
The trip with Juliet was perfect. They walked every rambling path near the small hotel theyd chosen. Sometimes they were silent; other times, they spoke over each other, afraid to miss something important. Gradually, the pain receded. Juliets sharp practicality put problems in perspective; what seemed vital yesterday was trivial today, and the little things came into focus.
Come back, Olivia. Whats there for you in London now? Kids need a centre here, tootheres a new housing estate going up; you could open half a dozen and still need more. And your dads not been well. You were moving him closer to younow you neednt change anything. Live with him or nearby, whatever you like.
Olivia considered, and by the end of the trip, had made up her mind. It was for the best.
Divorce, selling the flat and car, sorting out the business shed invested so much intoit all receded into memory, leaving only experience. Keeping herself together, she met Denis a couple more times, then deleted his number and ordered herself to forget.
The Cotswolds welcomed her with spring in full bloom. Olivia bought a new flat near her fathers, preferring independence. She encountered his new companion, Margaret, on the doorstep one afternoon, and saw in her warmth that it was best her father be happy again. She remembered how much her parents had loved one anotherdidnt believe grief alone should be his future. Watching him potter in the garden while she and Margaret made tea, Olivia felt nothing but relief that the man she loved most in all the world had a new reason to go on.
And your dads still quite the catch, dont you think, Liv? Margaret watched her father with such devotion, Olivia could almost believe in love againsometimes it came easily, sometimes not at all. And sometimes, not yet.
What Olivia saw gave her hope. If her father found love late in life, maybe her person wasnt far off eitherjust out of sight.
A year passed in a blur. She opened two childrens centresbusy enough that bad thoughts rarely surfaced. Though she changed everything, from her style to adopting a dog as shed always wanted, loneliness sometimes crept in at night. Alone in her kitchen, swirling cold tea, she would give anything to hear Denis flip the light switch and ask, “You alright, Ollie? Want me to make you a cuppa and you can tell me what’s up?”
Olivia knew this wasn’t healthy, that she should let go, but she couldnt get rid of that last part of him.
A surprise row over taxes about eighteen months later, meant a trip back to London to sort things. Practical, busya relief.
The issue resolved in a day, leaving her with free hours. She wandered the old neighbourhood, revisited old haunts: the old childrens centre, the park where she and Denis would walk on Sundays, the playground shed once imagined taking her own children.
Something drew her into the park. She didnt intend to stay but the familiar path beckoned. She strolled along, found the benches replaced, the fountain restored.
A man sat alone at the fountain, gently rocking a pram. He looked familiar. A few steps more, and she realisedit was Denis. She almost didnt recognise her ex-husband: hair almost silver now, looking smaller, shrunk into himself. His pain was obvious, unbearable to watch. She could not just walk by.
“Denis…”
He flinched, hunching his shoulders without looking up. “Hello, Ollie.”
She sat beside him. “How are you?”
The question felt so awkward, she wanted to bolt, but stayed as Denis finally stopped rocking the pram and looked at her.
“Not well, Ollie. Not well at all.”
“Why?”
Even less appropriate, but Olivia had to hear the truth.
“Because Im alone. Ive lost everything good by my own stupidityan accident that cost me everything.”
“Youre lying.” Olivia saw in his eyes her own wish to erase the past two painful years. “You have more than you left with me.”
She nodded at the pram. “A boy or a girl?”
“A daughter. Eva.”
“Young wife, a childwhat more do you need?”
“No wife, Ollie. Milas gone. Her labour was… too much.”
The news winded Olivia. She felt no anger, only sorrow for the young woman, gone before her life began, who had taken advantage of the moment too soon with Denis at the office party. No one knew why Denis let himself get drunk that night, why he let Mila take him home, butwhat happened, happened. Their daughter, Eva, now slept softly in the pram Denis anxiously kept moving, afraid shed wake.
The silence between Olivia and Denis stretched long. At last, they talkedawkward at first, tripping over each other, until Eva woke to the glow of park lamps and a sky, raining new stars.
Olivia rose to see the baby girl and froze, staring at her tiny face.
“When you meet your child, youll understand, Olivia,” Ms. Swansons old words echoed so vividly, Olivia glanced around.
Six months on, Ms. Swanson led a serious, dark-eyed boy into her office. With a nod to Olivia, she left them to talk privately.
“Michael, do you know why Im here?”
“For me.”
“Would you like to live with me?”
“Doubt it. You wont want me.”
His eyes were steady, indifferent. A flicker of hope died when Olivia showed him photos.
“Your husband?”
“Yes.”
“Your daughter?”
“No, Michael. Not mine.”
He brightened, just a bit. Olivia didnt let the spark fade.
“Shes not mine yet, Michael, but Ill be her mother. And yoursif youll have me.”
“Youll send me back.”
“Why?”
“They all do.”
“Im not everyone, Michael, you know why?”
“No.”
“I know what its like to lose everything, to be unloved. It hurts terribly.”
“I know”
“Do you know what a mother is, Michael?”
“No.”
“Someone wholl never let her child get hurt.”
“You pity me?”
Olivia shook her head solemnly. “No. I dont want to pity you. I want to love you. I want things to be good for you. And I want Eva to have her big brotherstrong and brave, who wouldnt let anyone hurt her. Think we could manage that?”
Michael was silent, watching her. She was beautiful and smiling, but he sensed sadness beneath it. The red dress was so bright he had to touch the sleeve to check if it was real.
“Do you like it?”
“Very much.”
“So do I. I bought it when I was at my saddest, and it helped. I love this colour now.”
“I do too,” Michael said, shyly stroking the silk. “I’d like to try. Being your son, I mean.”
“No, Michael, were not trying. Were just doing it. Ill never send you back. Just help me, alright? I dont know how yet, but I want to be a mum. For you, and for Eva. Will you help me?”
Michael nodded. Olivia finally breathed.
Years later, up a narrow path in the hills, walked a family. Tall, skinny Michael herded his mischievous little sister, Eva, who was forever dashing ahead.
“Eva, there are wolves in the woods.”
“No there arent!”
“Yes! And bearsbig, hungry ones.”
“Mum doesnt give them porridge?”
“No. Their mum can’t cook.”
“Ours can.”
“Well then, Mum should make some porridge for the bearstheyd be less hungry!”
“Mum! Eva says the bears need porridge.”
“Semolina?” Olivia puffed to catch up, matching her daughter’s skip.
“Mum!” Eva pouted. “You never get semolina right. The bears wont like the lumps!”
“Cheeky monkey,” Olivia scooped her up for a kiss. “Thats just your tastethe bears would love it, lumps and all!”
“Give them mine tomorrow!” Eva threw her arms around Olivias neck. “And the honey you bought yesterday, too!”
“No way! Thats mine!” Olivia grinned. “Now, are you walking or getting a lift?”
“Carry me!”
“Go to Dad, then!” Olivia handed Eva to Denis and ruffled Michaels hair. “Well, Michael, what about that bear porridge?”
“Mum, Im not ready to go home. We havent seen everything. And if Eva starts leaving snacks for the wildlife, well never get out of the hotel. Let them stay hungry, maybe?”
Olivia laughed, glanced back, “Eva, well feed the bears later, alright? Ill learn to cook proper porridge.”
“Fine!” Eva agreed so quickly that Olivia and Michael exchanged glances.
“Oh, Mum,” Michael snickered.
“Oh, son,” Olivia grinned fondly. “Keep an eye on her. Otherwise, well end up adopting all local wildlife. This one wont leave themhungry or not, they need love, too.”
Their laughter rolled out across the meadow, echoing and lifting into the brightening sky, as the sun began to rise over the hillsand the day promised to be a glorious one.
