Ed

“Fuck,” Mika hissed. All she wanted was a quiet night of drinks with friends at her local. But then she saw him slip in the door, pull up to the bar, order a drink and sit alone as she was instantly pulled back to her childhood…

Mika and Ed had first met at kindy. He was in the sand pit and she wanted to play there as well. But Ed was not ready to share his domain, so he threw sand at her and loudly declared “NO GIRLS ALLOWED”. Mika found that there were many spaces that Ed kept her out of. She was not allowed in the front row at story time, she was not allowed to play with the blue playdough, she was not allowed to use the computer in the corner of the room even when it was her turn. Mika tried to avoid Ed, but he seemed to be everywhere, looking over her shoulder, pulling her pigtails and just being annoying. Mika made herself smaller, maybe Ed wouldn’t notice her. But then he started to call her names as well. She was a stupid-dummy-head-fatso-freckleface. And when he started, others started as well.

Mika’s mum wanted her fifth birthday party to be a big deal, a real celebration. But Mika just wanted to get it over with and move on. She was going to big school and leaving Ed behind. You can imagine her horror when she arrived at school on the first day to find Ed there as well. He had come too? Ed spotted her and poked his tongue out. Mika slipped behind her mother’s legs and tried to hide. But there was no hiding from that monster. He was everywhere. Mika decided to make herself small again and try very hard to keep out of Ed’s way. Maybe he would find someone else to pick on.

“Can you please bring me a red ballpoint pen from my desk?” Mrs White asked Mika. She went to the desk but only found normal pens staring back at her.

Going back to Mrs White, Mika said, “No ballpoint pens, only normal ones.”

Everyone laughed. Mika’s face stained red like the pen she was meant to bring back.

“Ballpoint pens are normal pens,” Mrs White told her.

She walked back to the desk and picked up the pen to bring to Mrs White who then stained Mika’s work with embarrassment.

Ed was there to see it all and he called her “stupid-dummy-head-fatso-freckleface”.

Mika made herself smaller. Pretended to be invisible and stayed as far away from Ed as possible. He was not nice.

Mrs White was a good teacher though. She was kind and tried hard to help Mika and Ed to become friends sitting them at the same table and giving them the coveted lunch monitors duty together. But even though Ed was tolerable when Mrs White was around, he was still horrible in the playground and whenever Mrs White wasn’t looking. He tripped her up on the way to the library. He spat in her recorder. And when they were getting changed for swimming, he pushed open the changing room doors to expose her to the world. Mika hated him.

The next teacher, Mrs Handcock, tried really hard to help Mika and Ed get along. It was then that Mika realized that making herself small was not helping, so she decided to become a giant. She yelled back at Ed. She threw stones in the playground and got into trouble and was sent to sit outside the principal’s office. When Mr Olsen asked why she had thrown stones at Ed she told him that Ed was mean and she hated him. That Ed called her stupid-dummy-head-fatso-freckleface tripped her up spat in her recorder and opened the door when she was getting changed for swimming.

Mr Olsen had nodded in an all knowing way, “you know why he does that?” he asked.

“Because Ed is horrible!” Mika declared.

“No,” said Mr Olsen, “it’s because he likes you.”

“He likes me?” Mika asked, bewildered.

“Yes, that’s what boys do when they like a girl, they’re mean to them.”

Mika walked out of Mr Olsen’s office more confused and angry than when she had arrived. When you like someone, you are nice to them. You care for them like mum and dad cared for her. You don’t call them names like stupid-dummy-head-fatso-freckleface or trip them up or spit in their recorder or open the door when they were getting changed for swimming.

Mika couldn’t wait to get away from Ed. Her home was her fortress because he was not there. She filled her mind with classical music and fantasy books. Escaping in her imagination to strange worlds where good always defeated evil. Where there were epic battles and you never knew if the wizard would tame the dragon. Ed was not in the cakes she baked or at dance. He was not at church and he was not at swimming club. Mika could manage Ed because she could ignore him most of the time and get on with what she loved the rest of the time.

Intermediate school came next and Ed was in a different class, thankfully, and he left her alone. He was in the gifted class and Mika was not. She enjoyed the anonymity of her class with very few expectations. Mika did rise to fame at the end of the year though, winning the gold awards for Cooking, Sewing and Metal Work. Not to mention a solo in the Town Hall Choir Festival and a perfect netball season. But it was not the achievement of Ed with his top in Maths, Reading and Writing with the Principal’s Award for Academic Achievement which came with a recommendation to the advanced class in high school and a $100 Whitcoulls Voucher. Mika’s awards felt embarrassing. Better not to get them at all than to be labelled as the top of things that don’t matter.

High school was even bigger and more anonymous. Mika decided that she did not want to be good at things that didn’t matter and she was not going to be good at things that did matter so she would simply take up space and get through. Ed faded into the background noise of busy school life and Mika found pockets where he was not. Like in the music suite and behind the wood and rosin of a cello. In the Jazz band, concert band percussion section, and the orchestra. He was not in the claustrophobic darkroom, soaked in the chemical smell of developing images. And he was not in the papier-mâché that was formed in Mika’s hands into fanciful sculptures inspired by her love of books. She smiled when she was in the spaces that Ed did not inhabit. She had come to a place in her life where she could avoid him almost completely. There were enough others for him to torment, and there were those who were enamoured with him. Mika was happy to leave them to it.

But, like any small community, as the years passed, Mika ran into Ed every now and then. And here he was, disturbing her Friday night with his presence. Sitting at the bar, he had a slightly slumped look to his shoulders and Mika imagined that he might have finally been defeated. That someone had been able to knock him from his high and mighty perch and now he knew what isolation, rejection, and ridicule felt like. She imagined the little Ed at kindy who would have jumped onto the bar and called out to her that she was a stupid-dummy-head-fatso-freckleface in front of everyone. But she wasn’t that stupid-dummy-head-fatso-freckleface anymore. She had not been that for quite a while. She excused herself from her friends and made her way to the bar.

“Ed?” she said softly as she approached him.

He looked up, there was no recognition on his face.

“It’s me, stupid-dummy-head-fatso-freckleface,” Mika smiled.

His face of misery immediately turned to horror, “Mika? Is that you? Oh my god, I…I…I’m,”

“Relax,” Mika said, letting him off the hook with a smile, “I’m just messing with you.”

He smiled and visibly relaxed, slightly. “Look, Mika, I’m really sorry aye? I was not a nice person for a really long time,” Ed confessed.

“You made my life hell right from kindy,” Mika admitted, “and I didn’t really know why. Mr Olsen, remember him? He said you did it because you liked me, what an ass,” Mika laughed.

Silence.

Mika let it linger. Comfortable in his presence as she was so comfortable in her own.

“So why did you torture me then?” Mika asked.

“I dunno. I’m a dick.”

“Ha! Well I won’t argue that point, but you don’t get off that easy, why did you do it?”

Silence again.

Ed took a swig of his drink, lowered his head and mumbled, “because I thought I was better than you. I thought I was better than everyone. I’m not.”

“Good that you figured that out,” Mika said.

“Not without huge collateral damage though. You’re not the only one I tortured. I’m sorry.”

Silence.

“I gotta go,” he blurted out, chugging back the last of his drink, grabbing his jacket from the stool next to him and virtually running out the door.

Silence.

“Another drink?” the bartender asked her.

“Please,” she said. She returned to her friends and rejoined the conversation.

“Who was that?” one inquired.

“No one, just an old…just someone I knew growing up.”

The next morning after a peaceful sleep in, some lazy reading in a sunny spot and several cups of coffee, Mika opened her phone to find a new friend request. It was Ed, with the message ‘can we start again?’ On a whim, Mika clicked accept and then fired back the message, ‘we can’t start again, but we can begin now and make a new beginning.’

Sometime later a new message came in.

‘Coffee?’

‘I could go another cup’

‘Meet you in the village?’

‘Sure’

‘See you in 10’

‘I’m gonna need a little longer to get my stupid-dummy-head-fatso-freckleface self ready – lol’

Silence.

‘Soz, too soon?’

‘Too soon’

‘See you in 30 then’

‘😊’

Thirty minutes later, Mika slid into a booth at the village café. It smelled of freshly ground coffee, herbal tea and scones hot out of the oven.

“The usual, Mika?” Danny asked from behind the counter.

“Yes please. But I’m meeting someone, so you had best make it two of those scones with lashings of butter,” said in a ridiculous English accent, “I am not sharing my scones with ANYONE!” Mika laughed.

With that, Ed entered and approached Mika.

“I’ve ordered scones,”

“With lashings of butter, I hope!” Ed said in an equally ridiculous English accent.

“Oh no! There are two of you!” Danny observed from behind the counter.

“Why of course, Ed” Mika responded.

“Coffee for your friend?” Danny inquired.

Mika raised an eyebrow at Ed.

“I’ll have what she’s having,” he said.

“Are you sure?” Danny asked, dubiously.

“Very sure,” Ed replied.

Soon Danny arrived with two fresh-out-of-the-oven fluffy scones with lashings of butter along with two Vienna coffees. Ed looked at the coffee with amusement.

“What on earth?”

“You’re in for a treat,” Mika encouraged.

The coffee was served in a tulip cup with a swirl of whipped cream on top and sprinkled with cinnamon. Mika broke off a piece of the fresh warm scone and dipped it in her coffee before popping it into her mouth. She smiled.

Silence.

They ate and sipped coffee and slipped into some semblance of comfort in each other’s presence.

“I really missed something good while I was being such a dick.”

“You did,” the self-assured Mika answered. “But at some stage I realized that you didn’t get to control my life. Who knows where I would be if you hadn’t have been the catalyst for that realisation? Maybe it would have been someone else? Or something else, but things seem to have a habit of turning out okay in the end. How about you Ed? What have you been up too?”

“Nothing to be proud of. I made a shit-tonne of money from the misery of everyone else. I don’t even know what to do with it, everyone hates me.”

“Oh come on, you don’t get to be the victim here,” Mika declared, “you were the cause of the misery, so now you get to clean it up.”

“I don’t even know where to start,” he confessed.

“Here and now is just as good as any place and time,” Mika smiled.

“You always had a beautiful smile,” Ed cooed.

“Oh no you don’t!” Mika said pulling him up before he could do anything he would regret. “I am more than a smile and more than some calm words to sooth your tormented soul. If you really want to make good then you will need to show me you’ve changed.”

“I have,” he insisted, I really have.

“How?” Mika demanded.

“I don’t judge people the same anymore. I don’t put them down for not being the best or find flaws to point out. I look for strengths,” he paused, “I know it’s corny, but I know that the rising tide lifts all boats. I used to think that some boats needed to sink, that they were just not good enough to care about, but I know that’s wrong.”

“And by boats, you mean people. And I was one of the boats you tried to sink.”

“Yes.”

He was talking a good game but maybe to lure her in and back to a place where he could strip her bare and expose her to the world again.

“Can I interest you in a walk tomorrow morning? Sam loves the beach in the morning and so do I.”

“Sam?” asked Mika.

“Sam my schnoodle,” Ed responded.

“Sam your schnoodle,” Mika repeated. She concluded that anyone with a schnoodle named Sam who loves a morning beach walk must have some redeeming qualities. “Sure, a walk with Sam sounds nice.”

“You’re okay if I come along as well, right?” laughed Ed.

“Only if you behave like a good boy.”

The next morning was beautiful. The tide was out and the rising sun glinted off the shallow pools of water. Pulling into the carpark, Mika spotted Ed and a tiny energetic dot out on the flats that she assumed must be Sam. Getting out of the car, Mika put two fingers to her lips and gave an impressive whistle to let Ed know she had arrived. She started down the beach onto the wet sand. The salty breeze picking up her hair, blowing it across her face. The sun was not yet warm enough to take the chill out of the air and she wrapped her arms around herself with a small shiver.

Ed was playing a disgustingly muddy and sandy game of fetch with Sam and a manky tennis ball. Ed would hurl the ball towards the water and the small ball of energy would bound after it, the sandy salt spray flicking from her back paws as she ran. She returned and proudly dropped the ball at her master’s feet then moved away a little in anticipation of the next throw. The game was on repeat and Mika wondered who would tire of it first. It was hard to tire of the enthusiasm of Sam and her excitement for the game. But eventually, Sam returned to Ed and rather than dropping the ball at his feet, she trotted towards the shoreline in a dignified way even though she was completely covered in wet sand.

“That’s the end of that,” Ed announced, “Sam has had enough and it’s time for coffee.”

They returned to the dry sand where, from a pile of things, Ed produced a picnic blanket and basket. He laid down the blanket and offered Mika a seat. He then unloaded a thermos, a tea-towel wrapped parcel, two mugs, another two mystery containers and plates.

“What’s all this?” Mika asked.

“Breakfast,” Ed said as if it was the most natural thing in the world to sit on the beach with your arch nemesis and break bread after playing fetch for an hour with his dog. “I can’t put Sam in the car when she’s so wet, so I thought we had better have something to pass the time,” he explained.

“Well,” Mika said, “if it’s for Sam, it would be rude to refuse.” She made herself comfortable. Ed poured coffee and from one of the mystery containers he spooned whipped cream onto the top and even sprinkled it with cinnamon. Unwrapping the tea-towel he revealed some scones, or were they stones? And of course, there were lashings of butter in the second mystery container. The scones were still warm, and the butter went some way to softening them.

“You cooked these?” Mika asked around a mouthful.

“You don’t have to sound so surprised,” Ed responded, “there is more to me than you realise,” he said with a wink. He took a bite of his own scone, “Oh my god, these are terrible!” he laughed. “I followed the recipe, I’m so sorry, I saw how you loved them yesterday and didn’t think it could be that hard.”

“Good scones are an artform,” Mika confirmed.

Despite the stone scones, Mika enjoyed the beach breakfast, even when Sam jumped across them in pursuit of a seagull, flinging sand everywhere. It appeared Ed had changed somewhat, but that small part of her wondered again if he was just there to gain her trust before breaking her.

Mika lay back on the rug with her hands propped behind her head, eyes closed, she sighed and relaxed in the warming rays of the sun. Ed followed her example and Sam plopped herself down between them resting her head close to Ed’s. Tomorrow they would return to their regular lives, but for today they were happy in each other’s company and as the tide ebbed its way back in across the flats, Mika imagined the same fresh clean start for Ed and her. As the tide rose, so did her trust that Ed would not try to sink her again.

Over the week they exchanged messages. Ed’s gif game was strong making Mika laugh out loud several times. Mika found herself looking forward to the weekend and the possibility of spending time with Ed. She messaged,

‘Interested in a scone making class this weekend?’

‘Really?’

‘Yeah. My house, private cooking lesson’

‘K yeah sounds great’

‘😊’

‘What shall I bring?’

‘Lashings of butter’

‘😂’

On Friday night, Mika felt a bit nervous. She was letting Ed into her home, her safe space. What if she had made the wrong choice? What an idiot. She had a terrible sleep with strange dreams of kindergarten sandpits that were swallowing her up and Ed was a giant shovelling sand in faster than she could climb out. She was sinking. She woke up gasping for air and terrified. She messaged…

‘change of plans…’

She deleted it.

‘sorry, something came…’

She deleted it.

Instead, she pulled on some trackies and trainers and hit the streets for a brisk walk. By the time she returned, the last vestiges of the dream had faded and she laughed at herself. She messaged…

‘see you later 😊’

‘looking forward to it’

Mika’s house was cosy and it was a warm day so she had the ranch slider thrown wide open to the deck and the backdoor wedged open to let the breeze through. That morning she had been shopping, hung a load of washing on the line, vacuumed, dusted, and cleaned the bathrooms. She had arranged and rearranged the books on her coffee table getting rid of the trashy mags leaving her photo books from several trips casually displayed.

When Ed arrived, Mika felt like he took up a lot of space. Maybe this was a silly idea. So stupid. But she offered him tea and they sat for a while on the deck in matching Cape Cod chairs that Mika had restored and repainted bright orange the previous summer. Ed returned to a normal size as they sipped the herbal blend.

“Nice place,” Ed commented.

“Thanks, I like it. Cosy, but it works for me,” Mika smiled.

“My place is sterile, it has no life, looks more like an institution than a home,” Ed reflected.

“Well, as soon as we get you to stop cooking stones and cook food instead, you’ll have your place homely in no time. Come on, let’s do this!”

They moved through to the kitchen and Mika handed Ed a pink frilly apron.

“You are kidding me?” Ed said, raising his thick expressive eyebrows and giving her a half grin.

“I do not kid when it comes to cooking,” Mika retorted. “Now put it on. Looking the part gets you halfway there. You know, fake it ‘til you make it and all that.”

Ed obeyed. Mika giggled.

“Right, here is your bowl and station and here is mine. You are going to mirror everything that I do, k?”

“Yes boss lady,” and he gave her a mock salute.

“Call me ma’am,” she instructed him.

As soon as they started, Mika could see why Ed had not mastered the humble scone the first time. He was in too much of a hurry and wanted to cut corners and he was so rough with the dough.

“The more you try to force it to your will, the tougher it will get,” Mika instructed him. “Be gentle, it’s okay if the dough is raggedy to start with, the baking process with bring it together.”

She showed him how to gently fold and layer the dough, to pat and not push, and to make sure he didn’t work it too much. They then cut them into squares and placed them on the tray, just touching.

“When you put them like this, they will rise together and the sides don’t get hard,” Mika explained.

Eight and a half minutes later, they were ready to come out. They were golden, fluffy looking, and smelled delicious. Mika popped two on plate, grabbed the butter dish and they went into the lounge to plop on the couch, pull up the coffee table and dig in.

“Oh my god, these are JUST like the ones at the café,” Ed exclaimed.

“Mmmmm, you’re right,” Mika confirmed through a mouthful.

Ed raised his eyebrows questioningly. Mika swallowed.

“The café is mine,” she laughed. “The recipe is my grandmothers and I can make them in almost any flavour, but the original is my fav and we sell out every single day! You are extremely special to get your very own batch you know.”

Ed looked slightly startled.

“There’s more to me than great scones though,” she said.

“Yeah, I can see that,” Ed smiled.

“If you like scones, wait ‘til I whip you up a batch of brownies,” she boasted.

“Is that an invitation to stay for dessert?”

“You wouldn’t be trying to take advantage of my cooking just ‘cause I’ve outed myself now would you?”

“Oh no, I would never do that. And to prove it, I will make dinner and you can make dessert. Fair’s fair.”

“How very generous of you,” she smiled, comfortable with the banter and very happy to have an excuse to extend their afternoon together.

With all the pomp of a town crier, Ed decreed, “I shall cook you my world famous mac’n’cheese.”

Mika burst out laughing, “seriously?”

“I tell you, it will be the best mac’n’cheese you have ever had. It’s the only thing I ever learnt to cook ‘cause I love it and couldn’t be separated from it when I moved out of home. It took mum many long nights trying to teach me, but I got it in the end. Anyway, I’ll pop out and get what I need and be right back.”

With that, Ed flew out the door with a quick wave and “see you soon”. Mika was left standing there wondering just how she had got to looking forward to dinner and dessert with the one she used to hate. A message pinged on her phone…

‘red or white?’

‘yes’

‘lol…blue cheese?’

‘always’

‘bacon?’

‘is what ensures I can never be a vegetarian’

‘dinosaur pasta or alphabet?’

‘🙄’

Then he was back, inhabiting her space again in a very comfortable way. He took out his supplies while she pulled up a stool to the breakfast bar to watch. What unfolded was akin to a super long Muppets skit of the Swedish Chef. There were pots everywhere, sauce bubbling over, pasta cooking, spoons dropped and his face had a smear of flour from when he made the rue. It was endearing and hilarious at the same time. The whole concoction was transferred into a dish and slid into the oven to bake. Ed had also managed to pour them both a glass of wine and proceeded to clean up the disaster that he had made. Mika entered the kitchen to help with the dishes. Ed washed, she dried, and they had everything clean and tidy as the first bottle came to an end. Ed then whisked the master piece from the oven and declared that it needed to rest for at least half an hour to develop the flavours. They plopped down on the couch again and in a moment of vulnerability Mika threw her legs over Ed to lean back on the arm of the chair. His hand rested gently on her shins. Warm. A little pruney from the dishwater. Mika’s heart was beating just a little louder than usual. She felt like an opossum caught in the sights of a hunters gun. Taking a breath, she swung her legs down and reached for her wine glass on the coffee table.

“good choice,” she said self-consciously.

“thanks,” he replied leaning closer.

She could feel the warmth of his breath. She took a sip of her wine. This is not the Ed who tortured her. He really had changed. He had made her mac’n’cheese and cleaned her kitchen.

She stood up saying “that smell is driving me crazy, let’s eat this famous dish already and then I can blow you away with dessert.” She went to the kitchen and dished up two bowls. It was saucy and cheesy and every bit as good as he had claimed it would be. The bacon and blue cheese enhanced the dish and she was happy to score it 10/10.

Now it was her turn in the kitchen and in a little under 10mins with only one bowl used she had a batch of brownies in the oven. “They take 45mins to cook,” she informed Ed.

“It’s lucky I no longer have a curfew, isn’t it?” Ed joked. “Another glass?”

“Why not.”

Ed came back into the kitchen and suddenly it was an awkward dance to avoid the gathering electricity between them from connecting. Once that connection was made there was no telling what sparks would fly. Ed put the wine on the bench and stepping in to Mika, his arms encircled her and he pulled her close. She did not resist. In fact her arms seemed to have a mind of their own making their way around his neck creating space for their bodies to press together. She could feel every inch of him against her. Ed had one hand in the small of her back and one on the back of her neck. They both relished the initial connection, the transference of energy, the heat of closeness, lost in the eternity of that one instant.

Cheek to cheek, Mika giggled.

“What’s so funny,” Ed breathed.

“What on earth did you put in that mac’n’cheese?” she asked.

Pulling back slightly and looking into her eyes, “love,” he said, “I put love in it.” And with that all walls came down.