Status: Live

Holding Hands Won't Be Enough

Chapter 17: Mountain Goats

Ville didn’t want to do a damned thing to do with music today, his head swarmed annoyingly, pulsating against his temples with ferocity. He needed something to do, needed something else to occupy his thoughts. He called Kat about getting tattooed, but she was out of town until the end of the week; getting tattooed always helped, the pain and numbness physically being there drew attention away from the feeling of it swilling in his stomach.

He had willingly lost himself in Milly’s home, taking everything in, enjoying her overwhelming presence in the very walls. Even the gardens were her, every blue bell and arctic flower carefully cared for, to remind her of home. It was beautiful. Since they had met he had very much felt that wherever she was was home, because she made it so, she made everything so welcoming and warm; like a hug from a family member, or your mum giving you fresh baked biscuits in the middle of winter, it just felt right. Though he thought he was alone in the house, he felt comfortable in knowing that this is where she loved, this is where she was happy.

He walked past the many book shelves that lined walls in every room, his eyes scanning over ever novel, every edition, every spine; he studied the trinkets and smelt the wax of candles – he wanted to take it all in and savor it, every scent, every touch, to take away with him – he fingered through the pictures and drawings on a lattice in the kitchen, smiling and running his finger over photos of her, his stomach aching at pictures that included Seth. She had grown in to the most beautiful woman through motherhood, not that she wasn’t before, but it suited her down to the ground, he always knew it was her calling in life: to be the most fantastic parent a child could wish for - even as the hardened party animals they once were, he knew that a child would be the center of her universe, the one thing she’d give up anything in the world for. He frowned, the lines on his head thick and deep in regret, ’that could have been me’, he told himself looking at a photo of Seth, Milly and Oscar, their faces slathered in finger paint, pulling silly faces. It didn’t cross his mind why it was the only photograph showing Oscar’s full face, rather than the back of his head or wearing a mask – he, like the others, hadn’t noticed Milly had removed them all. He tucked the photo back into the lattice and wandered to the living room, having thought he was alone, he was shocked to find Milly asleep, curled on the sofa, Oscar curled against her, with a book hanging loosely from her hand. He quietly padded over and gently took ’The Berenstain Bears Go to the Doctor’ and set it on the coffee table. He turned and looked at them for only a moment before moving along, the image set in his mind like a photograph; her face nuzzled in her sons hair, his small hand holding her hair between his fingers; he was wearing a small stethoscope, obviously playing doctor in order to care for his mum after her hospital trip, as she did him.

He noticed as he walked the house that Bam had really gone all out playing with Oscar, probably due to his desperate want of a child of his own, a mini maniacal prodigy, Ville mused to himself. Toys were littered everywhere and after stepping on a particularly hard and pointed toy, he decided to help Milly out and tidy them. He went room by room gathering the colourful play things in a washing basket, before climbing the sweeping staircase to the second floor. He set the various toys and books back onto their corresponding shelves, he also placed his numerous swords and magic wands back into the umbrella vase by his door. His bedroom was very much the ultimate kid’s room; the most attention to detail had gone into creating the perfect space for Oscar to explore. His bed was a wood cabin, held above the ground on stilts, not high enough that he could fall and hurt himself, nor high enough that Milly couldn’t see into, but high enough for the little man to clamber four wooden steps into his sleeping space. A large fake tree stood proudly in the corner of the room, its branches growing out along either wall, acting as hooks for coats and hats; the branches that extended outwards had photographs hanging from them with string. He was amused by the vast array of hats that Oscar had, sailor hats, pilot hats, fireman hats, character hats, wizard hats, a Viking hat. Ville himself was jealous of a room, and hat collection, this cool, he thought as he hung a discarded coat back onto a branch between a sailor and a top hat.

He closed the door behind him and for the first time, Milly and Seth’s bedroom door caught his eye; he wondered what her bedroom would be like, if it would be like their bedroom had been – cluttered with his writing pads and guitars, her design magazines and candles, books stacked chaotically on the shelves because they couldn’t help themselves when it came to buying them; the bed never made because Milly like seeing the sheets tousled when Ville went out, it was a reminder to her what that had spent hours doing on occasion; the blinds never closed as Ville liked waking up to the crisp, cold morning sky; lived in; loved… He wanted to go in more than anything, he could smell her perfume in the air as he neared the door, it ensnared his senses, only drawing him closer; he reached for the handle, but his fingers hesitated stiffly before curling back to his palm. He scoffed aloud, shaking his head as if to awaken sense in it – what was he doing? This is what stalkers did, walk around touching and sniffing things. Had he gone mental, he asked himself over and over as he quickly retreated back downstairs to the sanctuary of the garden and his cigarettes.

He sat out and watched the smoke billow and coil up into the air from the cigarette in his right hand whilst he ran his finger nail back and forth the tip of his thumb on his left hand. He allowed his mind to become clear of all thoughts, focusing only on the sensation of pressure from his finger nail, a technique he learned in rehab to calm one’s self in stressful times where you would normally chose drink to alleviate stress levels. His mindless concentration was broken however when the door clumsily swung open behind him. He spun quickly to see Oscar was the one to have opened the door, obviously by jumping to grab the door handle.

“Hello there.” Ville spoke softly to the spirited child.

“Hi.” He said glumly, walking over and attempting to pull himself onto the chair next to Ville. He was very audacious; it intrigued Ville to see a small child so sure of himself, he had no doubt Milly was just like this, as she had been since he had known her, when she was a child. Ville instantly stubbed his cigarette out of sight and aided him onto the chair. “Are you sad too?” he asked.

“I guess you could say that.” Ville responded honestly, figuring that if you can’t tell the truth to a three year old, who could you? “Why are you sad?” he pouted.

“I have to go on a plane..” he replied, swinging one of his legs back and forth, “Seth said that he doesn’t go in planes because people die in them.” He said, evidently concerned for his own welfare.

“Well, I think Seth might be exaggerating just a little bit.” He said, holding his fingers up to illustrate how little, it irritated him more than he knew why that Seth would say such a thing to a toddler, “I came here on a plane. I was on it for 12 hours, that’s half of a whole day and I didn’t die. I go on them all the time and I haven’t died yet.” He smiled. Oscar nodded still unsure.

“That’s what Mummy said. She said you’d be on more planes than I had toys… And I have lots of them.”

“I have been on lots of planes. They’re fun.”

“Why?”

“Why are they fun or why have I been on lots?” Ville asked, confused.

“Umm...” he pondered, “Both.”

“I’ve been on lots because I have to go to lots of new places and play my music and they’re fun because they take you to these new places and they fly in the air very, very fast.” Ville said unsure of his words. He didn’t know how to speak to a child, he didn’t know if he sounded too patronising... He didn’t even know if kids could pick up on that?

“Where have you been to?” Oscar inquired, his tone rising from that of worry.

“Lots of places. Hot places, co-“

“Have you been to somewhere with bears?” he asked seriously. Ville had to think, for one where bears lived and two, if he had been there.

“Um, yes. I think?”

“Are there bears in New York?” Ville tried to stifle a giggle. He was finding this beyond endearing.

“No, no bears in New York that I know of.”

“What about sharks?!” he questioned, getting excited. Ville laughed aloud.

“In New York?”

“No!” Oscar cackled.

“Oh, have I been anywhere with sharks?” Oscar nodded, surely, “Yes! Big scary sharks.”

“Lions?!”

“Sure.” He had given into lying, countries had zoos, zoos had these animals, he rationalised.

“Penguins!”

“Indeed.”

“Foxes?”

“Yes.”

“Whales?!”

“Yep!”

“Mountain goats!” Oscar giggled loudly, stumping Ville. The kid was good.

“No… Unfortunately not, no mountain goats.” He frowned, wondering why he even knew there was a variety of predominantly mountain based goat?

“Probably isn’t much of a HIM fan base in Outer Mongolia.” Milly’s voice croaked from behind them. “Thank you for tidying Oscar’s mess.” She smiled kindly, forcing emphasis on Oscar’s name as she rounded the table and took a seat.

“Not a problem.” He nodded, not wanting thanks but appreciating it all the same.

“How long has he been bothering you?”

“I wasn’t bothering!” he beamed, “I was sad and so was Ville.” She looked to Ville, who nodded with a comical sad pout.

“Why were you sad, pikkuinen?”

“Because Seth said that people die on planes.”

“He what? Osi, that’s not true.. Well, sometimes, but very rarely..” she babbled, her mind occupied with thoughts of wanting to tear a strip of Seth for frightening Oscar.

“It’s okay…” he trailed, “Ville hasn’t died and he’s been where there are bears on an airplane and that’s really far.”

“Very far.” Ville confirmed.

“I’m not scared anymore.”

“Well good for you!” she smiled broadly, “Now, go inside and tidy those crayons I just found hiding under the sofa.” He hopped down and scurried off into the house, they sat awkwardly, neither knowing what to say.

“Your head okay?”

“Yeah, stings… but, fine, these things happen.” She tickled her fingers over the stitches, not sure whether it irritated the wound or felt that sickly gross kind of good for the slight scratching feeling as her finger tips bristled over them. “Did you get whatever it was done last night?”

“Oh that, yeah…” he lied, straight off the mark. He left the hospital because if he’d been there another second he would have broken and told Milly to leave Seth and run away with him, to forget what happened, because he was a dick to have ever done it and that he’d never stopped being madly in love with her.

“That’s good.”

“So, you're leaving tomorrow now?” he queried.

“Yeah, I’m excited. It’ll be nice to get away, you know?”

“From being proposed to all over the place.” Ville said, realising it was in bad taste the minute the words spewed forth from his lips. “Ugh, sorry.” He winced. She laughed.

“It’s like that though, exactly like that.” She giggled through her nose and smiled coyly.

“Mummy!” Oscar called from inside. “Come help me pack for going on the plane!” he requested as if there were only one servicing the entire globe.

“In a minute pickle!” she called. “You must have had a profound effect on him, he cried when I told him this morning that we were going tomorrow. Good job.”

“Pssh..” he waved, “I just half lied through my teeth, it made him happy.”

“The makings of a brilliant father.” She remarked, amused at him summing up the parenting of a toddler in eleven words.

“Really?” Ville asked, secretly honored by her words given how much her parenting astounded and awed him in the most wonderful way.

“Yes. Why? Don’t tell me Jonna is going to pop one out.” She scoffed as she walked inside, wishing she could joke so easily about it in her own mind, whilst damning herself for even thinking it. It actually made her queasy rehashing what she had said the second after she had spoken it.
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I hope you enjoy reading Ville's self guided tour about Milly's house, I really liked writing it!

Oscar's Bed

Lattice Board in the Kitchen

Thanks as always for your lovely comments.