The Summer Sisters

by Lilly Mirren

  “This reminds me of that last time we surfed together as teenagers,” said Kate suddenly.

  Bindi opened her eyes, her heart falling. She remembered it too but didn’t want to talk about it. They’d fought, argued over whose fault it was their parents had died. It was a moment in time she’d replayed over and over in her mind throughout the years that followed. A moment she’d wished time and time again she could take back.

  She glanced at Reeda. Her sister’s face had gone pale.

  “You mean the day we fought,” said Reeda, her voice thin.

  Kate’s cheeks pinked. “Yeah.” She lifted a hand to rest on Reeda’s back. “I mean that day. I’m sorry for what I said Reeda. That I hated you — it’s not true. I never hated you.”

  Reeda offered a half smile, her eyes glistening. “Thanks.”

  “Me too,” added Bindi, her throat tight. “I’m sorry for blaming you for the accident. It wasn’t your fault. I know we’ve talked about it since, but sitting here, remembering that day… I’ve regretted it ever since. I wished I could take it back so many times. We all lost Mum and Dad, and we all grieved that loss… I wish we’d been able to come together to comfort each other. But we were only kids, we didn’t know how to manage that kind of grief, so we pushed apart instead. I’ll always regret that.”

  She scooted closer in the sand until she could put her hand on Reeda’s back as well, she and Kate both embracing their older sister together.

  Reeda offered a tight smile. “I blamed myself as well. But I know now that wasn’t fair.”

  “It wasn’t,” added Kate. “It was an accident.”

  “Thank you,” said Reeda.

  The three sisters embraced, a tangle of wet arms and sniffling noses.

  Bindi’s heart ached, but in a good way. It felt like the end of something. They’d finally put away the pain of the past, had mended the wounds they’d inflicted on one another in the process of their grief.

  When they pulled apart, Reeda wiped her eyes with her fingertips. “If only Nan were here to see us.”

  Bindi chuckled. “She’d be so happy. She wanted us to reconcile, to remember that we’re a family.”

  Kate sniffled. “She knew a thing or two about grief. Knowing what we know now about her life, she’d been through so much pain herself.”

  Bindi nodded. “I haven’t kept you guys updated on the Charlie Jackson saga.”

  “Have you found something new?” asked Kate.

  “Yes, he came to see Nan after the war.”

  “What?!” exclaimed Reeda, her eyes flying wide.

  Bindi smiled. “I found some more letters from him, written to Nan. At first, I was confused, because none of the letters had stamps on the envelopes or were dated. I wondered what that meant. Now I know — he must’ve given her a bundle of letters when he came back.”

  “I can’t believe he survived the war and came back to Australia all those years later.” Reeda shook her head.

  “It’s amazing,” admitted Kate. “What did the letters say?”

  “All I’ve found so far is that he visited Cabarita, and saw us all with Mum and Dad, down at the beach. After we left, he saw Nan and talked to her. She was amazed to see him, obviously, after so many years away. But of course, she was already widowed, and a grandmother. He asked to meet Dad, wanted to talk to him.” Bindi wrapped her arms around her bent knees, staring out at the ocean as she spoke.

  “Did he? Did he meet Dad, do you think?” asked Kate.

  Bindi shook her head. “I don’t know. All I know is that he wanted to meet Dad, and Nan was pretty emotional about it. He mentions it in the letter. He must’ve written the letter after they saw each other, as a way to process everything somehow.”

  Kate shook her head. “Wow. Where is he now, I wonder? Is he still alive?”

  “I don’t know. But I do know one thing…”

  “What’s that?” asked Reeda, her brow furrowed.

  “They kissed,” replied Bindi.

  “What?!” both sisters exclaimed in unison.

  The walking trail was narrow and wound along the edge of a steep incline. Bindi was surrounded by rain forest. Green fern leaves tickled her legs, a large fig tree reached skyward lower down the embankment, its thick root system winding and curving this way and that.

  She puffed hard as she climbed the last of a series of steps, pressed her hands to her hips and turned to survey the way she’d come. Josh was behind her and he stopped as well, his breathing perfectly normal, and watched her with a slight smile.

  “How can you be breathing normally?” she huffed.

  He grinned. “It’s not a hard walk, not really.”

  Bindi shook her head. “Show off.”

  She faced forwards and set off again. This time the sloping path took them downwards. All she could think was, if they descended, they’d have to climb back up again to get to the car. She sighed inwardly and kept going. She didn’t want to give Josh the satisfaction of seeing her quit so early in their bushwalk.

  He’d asked her to go bushwalking with him in the Gold Coast Hinterland, and she’d agreed, thinking it would be an easy stroll through some lush rainforest. Instead, it was more like mountain climbing, at least to her it was anyway. She wasn’t exactly an avid bushwalker but liked to think of herself as fairly fit. That was before the lymphoma of course. Still, perhaps she should start back onto an exercise program now that she was feeling so much better.

  “You okay?” asked Josh, his hand touching the small of her back.

  “Fine,” she replied.

  They reached the base of the fig tree and she skirted around it. It was magnificent, so tall, regal. The root system formed a skirt around the tree, climbing and weaving its way into the dirt.

  “Hey, let’s stop for a moment,” said Josh.

  She sighed with relief. Thank goodness. She collapsed onto one of the roots, using it as a kind of seat.

  He sat beside her and wrapped an arm around her. She nestled against his chest, resting her head on him.

  “This is nice,” he said.

  She grunted in response.

  “Come on, you’re enjoying yourself. Aren’t you?”

  She nodded. “It’s lovely. I’m not as fit as I used to be…but it’s really pretty.”

  He lifted her chin with one fingertip until she was staring into his wide blue eyes. Her heart skipped a beat. She still couldn't get past the chemistry between them. He could raise her pulse rate just by a simple touch, or a look in his eyes.

  “I love that we can do this together,” he said.

  She smiled. All her focus had been on getting enough oxygen into her lungs; she hadn’t even considered how he might feel about their outing. It warmed her soul.

  “Me too,” she said.

  “Do you think about our future?” he asked.

  She nodded. “Sure, sometimes.”

  “I do, all the time,” he confessed.

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, I know you’re the one.”

  Her eyes widened. “I am?”

  He grinned. “I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

  “Oh.” Bindi’s thoughts raced. She should say something more than that. He was pouring his heart out to her, and all she’d said in response was “oh”. Only, she couldn’t think of anything else to say. She cared about Josh. He wasn’t her usual type, but that was a good thing. No, a great thing. Her type hadn’t been good for her, the experience with Brendan had made that clear enough. Still, was she ready to say forever? It was so soon. She’d only recently recovered from her illness.

  His face clouded with confusion, then irritation. “You can tell me if you don’t feel the same way. I want us to be open and honest with each other.”

  Bindi searched frantically for the words to say. Words that wouldn’t hurt him but would convey her true feelings.

  “I’m sorry.”

  His eyes narrowed. “What does that mean?”

  Her cheeks bu
rned. “It means… I’m sorry that I’m not in the same place as you. Not yet, anyway. I don’t know how I feel exactly.”

  He stood to his feet, then paced back and forth in front of her, his hands on his hips. “I thought we were on the same page with our feelings. That we were headed in the same direction.”

  “We are…” she stepped towards him, but he brushed her away.

  “I want to get married,” he said.

  She gaped. “I didn’t know…”

  “I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

  Bindi couldn’t gather words together in her mind to say what she wanted to express. She wasn’t ready to make that commitment. Could she marry Josh? He was perfect. Seemed perfect at least. But she’d been wrong before about the man she’d thought she’d marry before him. So very wrong.

  “Bindi! I love you.”

  Her breath caught in her throat. “Josh…I—”

  He shook his head. “If you don’t know by now, maybe you won’t ever know.”

  “That’s not true. I just need some more time. The past year has been confusing…” Her heart thudded against her ribcage and her throat ached.

  “Forget it,” he said. “Let’s head back to the car.”

  Bindi plodded along the trail behind Josh. He strode ahead, his frustration evident in each step. She sighed inwardly, her heart heavy. She’d hurt him, the last thing she wanted to do. Still, she couldn’t be dishonest with him. Saying forever, telling him she loved him, it wasn’t something she was ready to do. Did that mean there was something wrong with her? After all, people she loved didn’t stay. Forever wasn’t something anyone could promise. No one could control their own destiny.

  27

  February 1997

  Cabarita Beach

  Bindi held a cup of tea in her hands and stared out across the inn’s front yard. A set of long, wide stairs led from the verandah down to the perfectly trimmed grass beyond. At the side of the inn, workers were already busy, carrying timber, tools and whatever else they needed for the restaurant construction behind the building.

  She missed Josh. Hadn’t seen him since their disagreement while out bushwalking. He’d called a few times and they’d spoken on the phone, but he was distant and didn’t seem to have much to say. In fact, when he hung up, she’d been left wondering why he’d called.

  She’d messed up. He was the man of her dreams, and she’d pushed him away because her heart had too many fault lines in it. Now, he didn’t want her.

  She studied the long line of trucks, bulldozers, and other vehicles with a sigh. So much for a quiet cup of tea.

  “You okay, love?”

  Beside her Jack was positioning a ladder against the inn’s wall. He smiled at her.

  “I’m fine, but I can’t believe we’re doing the whole construction thing again. I’d forgotten how disruptive, noisy and dusty it is.”

  He chuckled and reached for a small can of paint and paintbrush. “That it is.”

  His wedding ring caught the sunlight and Bindi studied it and her brow furrowed. She’d never met Jack’s wife.

  He climbed the ladder and began painting over a cracked place on the wall. Bindi recalled the day the previous week when a guest had hit a cricket ball into the wall there. She’d only been glad they’d missed the window.

  “You do a great job around here, keeping everything maintained,” she said.

  He shrugged. “Thanks, Bindi. You do too. You’re a wonderful manager.”

  Heat rose to her face as her heart swelled. “Thanks Jack, that means a lot to me.”

  He continued painting, carefully covering the cracked paint with new. She couldn’t help looking at the ring.

  “Jack…we’ve never really spoken much about your wife. Do you mind if I ask…who was she?”

  He faced her, ready to answer just as the ladder wobbled and he dropped the can of paint. It landed bottom down, splashing yellow paint over the sides and onto the verandah floor. Bindi gasped, set down her tea and hurried to help, as the ladder tipped. It landed with a crash, as Jack fell onto his side.

  “Jack!”

  She heard him groan as she knelt beside him. “Are you okay?”

  He sat up, grunted. “I think so.”

  “Perhaps we should call an ambulance?”

  He grunted. “I’m not that old, Bindi.”

  She shook her head, smiling. “Are you sure?”

  He leaned on her arm as he stood.

  “Any pain?” she asked.

  He winced. “A little in my back. But it’s not too bad.”

  She helped him to a long, cushioned bench seat against the wall. Then, sat beside him, still holding his hand.

  “Can I get you anything?”

  “Maybe some Panadol, and a glass of water?”

  Bindi strode to the kitchen, filled a glass with water and found Panadol in the first aid kit. Then she rushed back to Jack’s side to give it to him. He swallowed the tablets down, then leaned his head against the wall behind him.

  “Still hurting?” asked Bindi.

  He nodded. “Yeah, I think I’m going to have some bruises tomorrow.”

  “I could drive you to the hospital,” she offered.

  He shook his head. “No, but home would be good. I might have a lie down.”

  Bindi held Jack’s arm as she helped him to her car. The Land Rover started with a growl and she followed Jack’s directions along a track that wound past the garage, and away from the horse paddock. Bindi remembered running along the track as a teenager, but she’d never explored it to the end, since it came to a gate with a No Trespassing sign. They reached that gate soon after the inn had disappeared from her rearview mirror.

  Bindi glanced at Jack with a frown. “Through here?”

  He nodded.

  She climbed out of the vehicle and opened the gate, setting it wide enough to drive through. Then, returned to make their way through it. Beyond the gate, the bush around them thickened until she couldn’t see anything but the track ahead of and behind them.

  Coastal gums and thick scrub crowded the car, as it slowly bounced along the potholed road. Finally, they emerged into a clearing. There was a house, with a wraparound verandah and long, rectangular windows. The timber house looked reasonably new and was painted a pale blue with white trim. Behind it, was a garage and matching set of stables.

  “You have horses?” asked Bindi.

  Jack nodded. “Just a couple.”

  “Can I see them?” she asked.

  He shrugged. “If you like, I might head on inside and lie down on the couch though.”

  She helped him into the house, got him settled with a pillow behind his head and another glass of water by his side, then wandered out to the stables.

  The stables were well maintained and neat. There were only two stalls, which were more like loose boxes than stables. They opened onto a small paddock where two horses grazed. She stood with both arms resting on the top rail of the fence to watch them.

  They were magnificent creatures. Tall, majestic. Draft horses, she guessed. Both were solid, with feathered hooves. Long manes and forelocks covered their eyes as they cropped the short grass. A tail swished, chasing away a fly, a hoof stomped, and a shoulder shivered getting rid of another.

  She shielded her eyes with one hand, smiling at the sight of them. They’d be a treat to ride, sitting so far from the earth on one of those wide, strong backs. Why did Jack have draft horses? She hadn’t expected to see that.

  When he returned to the house, Jack was right where she’d left him, one arm draped over his eyes. He glanced at her as she came into the room.

  “Your horses are beautiful,” she said.

  He smiled. “Thanks. I think they are.”

  “Do you ever ride them?”

  “Not so much anymore, but I used to. They’re more pets now than anything.”

  “Should I make us some tea?” she asked.

  He nodded. “If you like. Let me know if you ca
n’t find what you need.”

  She managed in the small, bright kitchen well enough and soon had two mugs of steaming hot tea in her hands. She carried them to where Jack lay, set one on the table beside him then settled into an armchair close by, one leg tucked up beneath her.

  “How are you feeling?”

  He shrugged. “I’m okay. You should head back to the inn, they need you.”

  She smiled. “Not until I know you’re all right. Although, I might call Kate in a minute, if that’s okay. I’d like to let her know where I am.”

  He nodded.

  “Do you remember the time you drove me to my formal?” she asked.

  Jack smiled. “Of course.”

  “Nan was sick, and there wasn’t anyone else to take me. I was already pretty sad because Mum and Dad couldn’t be there, and Reeda and Kate had left home. No one had asked me as their date, and I was meeting up with a group of girlfriends at the event. So, I’d decided that I’d stay home, since I had no one to take me. I didn’t want to show up on my own. And then you spoke up, said you’d drive with me.”

  He chuckled. “You were the most beautiful girl there.”

  Tears pricked the back of her throat. “I don’t know about that.”

  “Oh, definitely,” he confirmed.

  “If you hadn’t driven me, I don’t think I could’ve faced it. When we got there, you held my arm and we walked up the steps of the RSL club together. You stayed with me, chatting about heaven knows what, until my friends all arrived.”

  “I’m glad I could be there.”

  “It meant so much to me. I joined my group of girlfriends eventually, but I looked back every now and then to check, and you were still there. You stayed until we all went inside, and it helped me feel loved, just for a moment. Like I wasn’t alone in the world.”

  “You weren’t alone,” he said.

  She nodded, and her voice was thick with tears. “I know that, but I felt alone that night. Until you stepped in. I don’t think you realised how much that meant to me, knowing you were watching over me. There if I needed you.”

  He didn’t respond, simply sat up on the sofa and reached for his cup of tea with a grimace. “I think the Panadol is starting to work, but my back muscles are in revolt.”