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The sun was setting early over the countryside in Melbourne, Australia. In a million-dollar 'crash pad' owned by Joshy Firecracker, Bikki Hetestein tenderly kissed her son's head goodnight as he drifted off, trying not to shed too many tears. When he woke up, it would be his second birthday. He could have a party, and all his friends could come over, open presents, eat jelly and ice cream, blow out candles and wreck the joint as if there was nothing different, he was just an ordinary child. But he wasn't, he was the child of Bikki, a messed-up undead singer, and Jimmy ....
"Daddy come home soon?"
Bikki didn't know how to answer this. She wiped away more tears, not wanting to cry in front of her son.
"Is Joshy new daddy?"
"No." Bikki shook her head violently, trying not to get annoyed that Timo was asking this more and more often. "No, Joshy's not your daddy. Goodnight, darling."
"Night night!"
Kissing the small boy again and closing the door, Bikki walked out and burst into tears. Stay strong, she thought, there are going to be many more years of Jimmy not being at Timo's birthday. However, this sentiment only seemed to depress her more. Moving out of the corner, she veered, glass-eyed, like the zombie that she was, straight into her fiancé, and Timo's 'new daddy', Joshy Firecracker.
"Sorry," said Bikki, looking to the floor, almost as if hanging her head in shame. "Didn't see you there ...."
"I know," the soft-hearted singer said. It was clear that he didn't want to hug her; though neither one said a word, they both wanted to set up boundaries. "I know."
Bikki looked at Joshy, square in the face. It was devoid of all emotion, not like the man she knew. There's the Joshy, but where's the firecracker!? she thought. "Timo's birthday tomorrow."
That called for a best-friendly hug. "Don't worry Bikz," said Joshy, "it'll be fine."
FINE!? Bikki wanted to scream. This is my son not having his father at his party we're talking about, not a fucking weather forecast! Fine, such a stupid little word - can mean anything from 'my life is fine, so perfect it's untrue!' to 'my entire family got murdered by a homicidal maniac but fuck yeah, the sun's out!' She looked at Joshy again, and changed her mind quickly. It's nobody's fault. Least of all, Joshy's - someone who's endured all this, and never been anything but supportive. He's taken me into his home, and barely ever let me down.
Joshy broke away from the hug. "You off to bed?"
"No, I thought I'd stay up." (Subtext : I'm going to have a fuckload of trouble sleeping, so I might as well stay up watching TV, eating, drinking and pitying myself, then when I eventually black out, I won't be in bed with Joshy.)
"Me too, I want to reorganise my shoes." (Subtext : He's doing the same thing, but taking the bed in the big-enough-to-be-a-bedroom closet, in case I do go to bed. And reorganising his shoes.) "Erm .... shall I mix you a Sambluzi and put on the Pokémon DVD? And which biscuits do you want, Viennese or Cream?" (Subtext : He knows me like the back of his hand.)
"Both, please," Bikki said. Despite the distractions being offered to her, she couldn't imagine they'd help.
"And promise me, Bikz - only ONE drink, to help you sleep." Joshy patted his fiancée's shoulder. "We don't want Timo waking up on his birthday seeing his mother drooling on the sofa in a Sambuca and Curaçao coma. And not too many biscuits, I know how you are around food."
"Promise."
Several drinks later and twice as many packets of biscuits, Bikki wasn't comatose, or even close - and her thoughts were completely on Jimmy. I HAVE to have him back, no two ways about it. No bitch is stopping me.
As for Joshy? As much as she liked him, their engagement was farcical to say the least. He was in the closet, in more ways than one. But how easy would it be to break it off .... and how much, really, did she want to? It was so confusing ....Edited by user 12 April 2011 09:43:05(UTC)
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