by Lilly Mirren
Charlie slid his feet into a pair of work boots by the back door, then tramped outside to get his tool belt from the small shed in the garden. He had a few things to fix at the stables this morning, then he’d promised Edie he’d look into getting some paint swatches. She hadn’t agreed to paint the inn, not yet, but he was working on it. She’d gotten eccentric in her old age, didn’t like anything in her life to change. But he couldn’t blame her. Change hadn’t been kind to her over the years.
Edie had left already. She liked to take an early morning walk along the beach at the cove, before she went into the inn to get started on the day. No doubt Mima was already there, preparing breakfast for the inn’s guests.
Sometimes he wondered how they’d managed it. The three of them, living on the north coast of New South Wales, all running an inn together. He never would’ve imagined it back when they were scampering around Bathurst together as teenagers. Still, he couldn’t complain. He’d dreamed of living somewhere warm, a place he could sink his toes into the sand, and here he was. He’d even become a surf life saver, had dragged befuddled tourists out of the ocean for ten years before he’d hung up his towel.
He was too old for all that now. At least, that was what Edie had told him. He’d been certain he could manage it for a while longer, although truth be told he could do without flinging himself into cold water, or having a wave smash him into the sand these days. Perhaps he was too old after all, though on days like today he didn’t feel it. Felt on top of the world, in fact. He’d convinced Edie to take the afternoon off to spend it with him. Perhaps they’d go lawn bowling, isn’t that what people their age did? Or maybe they’d see a movie, though he had no idea what was showing.
Whatever they did, they’d be together. And after four years of marriage, he found he still looked forward to spending time with his wife the way he had as a teenaged boy who longed to hold her hand for just a moment, if only she’d let him.
He grinned and shook his head. Mima called him an old softie, and she was right about that. He’d grown soft in his later years, and it didn’t bother him one bit.
Charlie climbed into his truck and backed it up, then accelerated down the narrow, winding driveway towards the inn. The bush closed in on both sides of the trail, throwing dappled light across the hood that danced and flickered as he drove.
The Waratah Inn appeared through an opening at the end of the drive. He stopped and set the truck in park, then climbed out to open the gate. He hesitated a moment, the gate’s lock in one hand, his other hand resting on the fence post it was attached to. The inn shimmered in the morning sunlight, its peeling pink paint seemed to recover in the golden light, and the inn looked almost new for a moment with the glare behind it.
He’d grown to love the place almost as much as Edie did. He hated to admit it, because he’d often admonished her that she was too attached to the building for her own good. That she should sell up and move away with him, somewhere that didn’t involve folding bedsheets all morning, and catering to the whims of a revolving door of guests.
But she’d never been willing to consider it. Thought of the inn as her legacy, the thing she’d hand over to the girls — the only thing she had left to give them of any worth. That was what she’d said, and the tears in her eyes had quieted his objections.
Now, he understood. He’d lived at the inn long enough to be drawn in by its charms. He couldn’t sell it either, it was as much a part of he and Edie as anything else they’d experienced. And after leaving behind homes and loved ones so many times over the years, neither one of them could bear to do it again. The Waratah Inn was their home, and they’d stay there for as long as they could manage it.
He parked the truck by the carport behind the inn and strode to the stables to fix some broken palings.
He was hammering a nail into a fence post when he heard the scream. At first, he wasn’t sure he’d heard right. He stopped hammering, one nail still held between his lips, and cocked his head to listen.
Another scream, this time more of a wail actually. He dropped the hammer, spat out the nail, and ran in the direction of the sound.
His heart thudded against his ribs as he ran, his breath even and steady. Something was wrong, very wrong. The sound had come from behind the inn, close to the chook coop. He rounded the coop, his pace accelerating.
Mima crouched on the ground by the trail that led down to the cove. She was bent over something, someone, and rocking back and forth on her heels.
His heart fell. No.
When he reached Edie’s prone figure, he fell to the ground beside her, his knees stabbing with pain as they met the earth. Mima’s tearstained face turned to look up at him, her eyes were slits, her mouth a circle.
“Edie, Edie!” he shouted.
He lifted Edie’s head, to cradle in his lap. His throat closed over, as a lump built in the space behind his tongue.
“Edie! Wake up!”
He checked her pulse, her breathing. She had no pulse, no breath against his cheek as he leaned close. Her skin was cold. How long had she lain there?
After years of training as a life saver, he knew it was no use. She’d been there too long, was too cold. She was gone.
His eyes squeezed shut as he lifted his face to the sky. “No, no!”
Tears broke free and trailed down his cheeks, as he bent to kiss her lips. “Edie, don’t leave me,” he said. “Not now, not after we finally found each other again.”
Mima shuddered beside him, her body wracked with sobs. She rested a hand on his back, and his gaze met hers.
He shook his head. “What do I do?”
Mima sobbed. “Oh, honey, there’s nothing you can do now but hold her a little while. I’ll call the ambulance.”
Mima patted his back, then lumbered to her feet and headed to the inn. When she returned, he still held Edie, his arms around her as she lay, half in his lap, half on the earth. He was talking to her about the past, things they’d said and done, things he’d never said and wished he had. He felt a kind of peace come over him as he spoke.
She was gone. His beautiful girl. He’d never see her smile again, never feel her touch. Never know what it was to be kissed by those lips again. He needed time, more time. He wasn’t ready to let go just yet. If only he could force his mind to remember every detail, the lines on her face, the curve of her lips, the way her lashes touched her cheeks and the stains of dirt on her fingertips from where she’d pushed so many flower bulbs and seeds into the earth.
They’d had a second chance together, he and Edie. He couldn’t regret any moment of it. They’d formed a life, they’d lived together in the cottage he’d built with his own two hands, and they’d been happy. He looked at her again, saw that her lips were turned up at the edges. The hint of a smile had lifted her features before she passed. It was all he could ask for. There was nothing more to say.
Epilogue
August 1997
Cabarita Beach
The shelves of the refrigerator were backlit, and the appliance hummed steadily as Bindi scanned its contents.
“Do you think you have enough fruit?” she asked.
Kate peered over her shoulder. “Plenty. It’s the same amount we always have.”
“What about bread? Should we make more?”
“We? Don’t you mean me?” Kate pushed the door shut then pressed her hands to her hips. “We’ve got everything we need. Stop worrying.”
Bindi chewed on her lip. “Did I remind you about the electrician? He’s coming Wednesday to check out the wiring—”
“I know, I know, you told me.”
“And you’ve got to follow up on the linens. The laundry isn’t always great at meeting our deadlines.”
“Bindi! Enough! You’ve got to leave, or you’ll miss your flight. We’ve got it all under control. Reeda’s coming on full-time while you’re away, she’s across it all and will take care of the inn as if you were here yourself. Stop fretting.”
She coul
dn’t help worrying. Ever since they’d inherited the inn, she’d barely had a day off. And now she was taking an entire month to travel to Hawaii for their honeymoon. There had to be something she’d forgotten, something important. She should run through the list she’d written in her day planner in the office.
“I’m just going to check my day planner…”
Kate leapt in front of her. “No, you’ve checked it a dozen times. It won’t say anything different than it did the last time you looked at it. You’ve thought of everything, and if you missed anything, we’ll figure it out. We’re not completely clueless you know.”
Kate smiled, placed a hand on each of Bindi’s arms. “Enjoy yourself. You deserve a break after the year you’ve had.”
Bindi smiled back at her. She was looking forward to getting away with Josh, but everything she usually took care of at the inn kept flitting across her mind’s eye, taunting her.
“You’re right, I’m sorry. I’m sure you’ll manage fine without me.”
Kate nodded. “We’ll miss you, but we all want you to enjoy yourself. It’s your honeymoon, you’ll have a blast.”
Bindi inhaled a sharp breath. Truth be told, she was a little nervous. She’d never lived with a man before, except Dad and that was so many years ago she could barely remember what it was like. The only thing she could recall about what it was like to live with him in that moment was a picture of him rushing out the door for work in the morning, or Mum calling for him to take the rubbish out.
“What’s wrong?” asked Kate.
Bindi sighed. “I’m nervous. I’ve never lived with a man, not since Dad, and what if I’m a complete slob and Josh can’t stand me? What if I’m too much for him? I don’t know how to do this… We’ve only been living together here at the inn for a few days and the whole time I’ve been anxious about making a good impression. I’m a wreck.”
Kate chortled. “Ah, I see. Don’t stress yourself out over things like that. He’s new to marriage, just the same way you are. You’ll find your way together. And trust me, you’re not a slob, you’re actually really easy to live with. I’m something of an expert on the subject.”
“You think?”
“Absolutely.” Kate gave a determined nod. “You’re my favourite person in the whole world — don’t tell Alex or Reeda. You’re easy going, fun and of course disgustingly beautiful in the morning when you haven’t even brushed your hair yet. Stop fixating on what could go wrong and relax. Things are looking up. You’re healthy, the test results came back negative, you were just anxious about the wedding, everything’s great, enjoy it. You’ve got to learn to chill.”
“Okay, I’ll try to relax.”
“It’ll be much easier to relax away from this place and all of us. Hawaii is the perfect place for the two of you to find your rhythm as a couple.”
Bindi smiled. “I’m looking forward to Hawaii.”
“I’m jealous,” said Kate with a wink.
Jack hoisted Bindi and Josh’s luggage into the back of the taxi. Bindi watched him, squinting against the setting sun. Josh could’ve carried out the luggage, but Bindi knew Jack would want to do it. He didn’t like goodbyes, preferred to have something to do with his hands. He’d always been like that. Josh smiled at her over the taxi and climbed into the back seat.
Mima slipped her hand over Bindi’s arm. “You have a wonderful time, my darling girl.”
Bindi patted Mima’s hand, then kissed her weathered cheek. “We will. Thanks for helping out so much around here. It’s been crazy with the restaurant and all the guests, not to mention the wedding.”
“Don’t mention it,” replied Mima. “I love being here and spending time with you girls. Although you’re not girls anymore, are you? I always think of you that way, but of course you’re women now. All three of you married — it’s hard to believe.”
“I’m so grateful you’re in my life, Mima.”
The older woman’s eyes glistened with tears. “Me too, love, me too.” She squeezed Bindi’s arm. “The older you get the more time flies, and the more sentimental you get over how fast it’s passing by.” She inhaled a slow breath. “This is one of those moments in life, my darling girl. Take a hold of it, impress it on your heart, and never let go.”
Bindi swallowed around the lump in her throat. She nodded at Mima, embraced her then gazed around the inn’s front garden. The inn stood tall and majestic beside them. Yellow walls rose up high above with white trim gleaming in the winter sun’s pale golden rays.
A kookaburra laughed in the distance, answered quickly by another. Their raucous calls echoed through the air, then ended as suddenly as they’d begun. The hush of the ocean as waves found the sand created a steady rhythm, a backdrop to the call of birds and the swelling chorus of cicadas who greeted the coming night with a steady hum.
On the white railing that ran around the verandah, Cocoa climbed like a trapeze on a tightrope. One foot in front of the other, she wobbled as she walked. Her young charge, now fully grown, emerged from the possum house that Bruno, their contractor, had built on a branch high up in the gum tree that caressed the inn with leafy fingertips. Bindi had named the youngster Ned, after Ned Kelly, the infamous Australian bush ranger, when the possum snuck into the kitchen and stole fruit night after night until they realised just how he was getting inside and plugged the hole in the fly screen.
The young possum circled down a post, tail curled to hold on tight, then followed Cocoa along the railing. Bindi jogged over to greet the two of them. She pulled an apple from each jacket pocket and handed the fruit to the possums. The creatures immediately sat on their hindquarters, grasped the apples in their front paws and bit into the fruit with a crunch of powerful teeth.
“I was hoping I’d run into the two of you before I left. Take care of the place while I’m gone, okay?”
She patted Cocoa’s head, then tickled Ned beneath his furry chin, now damp with apple juice. Ned rested a paw on Bindi’s hand and left it there while he continued to eat.
“Bindi, we’ve got to go. The plane will leave without us!” called Josh from the back seat of the taxi.
She gave the possums one last pat, then hurried over to where Kate, Reeda, Duncan, and Alex stood. She embraced each one in turn, murmuring goodbyes and promises to relax and enjoy herself. Apparently, they all knew her better than she’d realised.
Jack met her there, encircled her in his arms and rested his chin on her head. “Have a great time, love.”
She nodded and pressed her chin to his chest. “I will. Take care of yourself.”
“Of course.”
“I’ll miss you.”
“Me too.”
She stepped back, and he reached for her hand, holding it in his. His eyes misted and she frowned.
“What’s wrong?”
He shook his head. “I’ll be forever grateful to you, you know?”
“What for?” she asked.
“For discovering the truth about me. I missed knowing your Dad… I mean, I met him, but I never really got to spend time with him as his father.” Jack swallowed, his eyes filling with tears. “And I didn’t want to miss that with you three as well. I wanted to tell you about who I was, that Edie and I were married, so many times. But then, the opportunity didn’t come up, and Edie made me promise not to say anything until she was ready. When she passed…it didn’t seem right to say anything with her gone. I didn’t even know if you’d believe me…”
Bindi shook her head, her throat aching. “I’m glad I figured it out as well. If I hadn’t, we’d never get to spend this time with you as our family. I mean, we’ve always seen you as family, but now we know you really are. You’re stuck with us…legally.” She laughed around the lump in her throat.
He chuckled as well, before wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. “So, thanks for finding me out.”
She nodded. “You’re welcome.”
“And you can call me something other than Jack now…if you want to.”
/>
“How about Grandad? I heard Margaret and Sarah calling you that, so I figured…”
“That would be perfect,” he replied.
She smiled, the ache in her throat fading. “See you in a month.”
“I’ll be here,” he said.
She climbed into the cab and rolled down the window to lean out through the opening. As the taxi pulled down the driveway, she waved furiously to the group, who waved back. Kate looped her arm around Jack, Reeda slid her hand into Mima’s and Bindi felt she might burst with happiness at the sight of it all. The vehicle accelerated onto the road, and the inn faded from view. The last thing she saw was the hanging sign that announced, The Waratah Inn, as it swung in the gentle evening breeze. Then it, too, was gone. She spun around in her seat to face the front, hugging herself with both arms.
Josh’s hand found hers and pried it free from her waist, squeezing gently. “You okay?”
She smiled, scooted closer to him, and rested her head on his shoulder. “I’m fine. Just…well, happy actually.”
“Good to hear,” he replied.
“Did you ever think we’d be here? On our way to Hawaii, an old married couple?”
His eyes twinkled. “Married, yes, old no way! We’ve got years before you can pull that one out. And there are so many things we’ll be doing before then.”
He leaned in for a kiss and her heart skipped a beat at the intensity and passion in his eyes. “Mr Owens, you’re making me blush.”
He kissed her again. “Good. You need more blushing in your life. My goal for this trip is to make you blush every single day for an entire month.
She threw back her head and laughed, her body flooding with a sense of peace. Marriage to Josh would be fun. Then he kissed her again and her mind emptied of every thought but his lips.
