Fulfillment

by Golland, K. M.

  “Okay, let’s head back up. I’ll ring Dad to find out where to land.”

  ***

  We made our way back up to the apartment, and while Bryce prepared the Crow for departure, I called my dad to get the all clear and instructions as to a suitable landing spot.

  Mum and Dad had over 60 head of cattle spread across their numerous paddocks. They farmed beef cattle and always had mothers with calves or pregnant heifers amongst their herds. Dad was a bit shocked at my request at first, mumbling something about ‘what’s wrong with a bloody car’ and telling my mum to ‘shhh’ as she stood in the background and asked what I was talking about. It wasn’t until I explained we were flying there as a way to cheer up Nate and Charli over not being able to spend Easter with Rick, that Dad dropped the annoyed and put-out attitude, instead instructing us to land in the paddock next to the shed.

  Bryce buckled us all in and handed out the headphones. Charli automatically started shouting in a tone that resembled a banshee, making my ears curl up and cringe. Nate was using every word of the month he had ever come up with, speaking in what sounded like and entirely new language.

  “Sick! I’m stoked. This is gonna be totally epic!

  As Bryce prepared the chopper for take-off, I tried desperately to calm down my kids. “Okay, Nate, please speak English. And, Charli-Bear, lower your voice a little. The headphones do actually work, you know?”

  “Yep, yep,” she squealed again and bounced a little in her seat as Bryce began raising the chopper.

  “Charli, quiet down while Bryce brings up the collective.”

  “This is so sick!” Nate slurred with excitement. “What’s a collective?”

  I automatically answered my son, as I had secretly researched a little of helicopter avionics. “It’s that stick thing Bryce is pulling up in his left hand. It controls the squashplate—”

  Bryce interrupted with a loud laugh. “It’s called a swashplate. Not squashplate.” He kept chuckling.

  “That’s what I said,” I snapped. I’m sure that’s what I said. Stupid swash/squash plate/bowl helicopter lift thingamajig. I decided to shut up after that, Bryce was in a far better position to explain to my son—who now seemed very interested in piloting a chopper.

  Bryce had looked over at me numerous times during the 40 minutes it had taken us to fly to my parents’ property, obviously still amused at my attempt to gain more knowledge of how helicopters fly. I had stubbornly tried glaring at him in response, but the cheeky loving grin he had on his face was hard to be pissed at. It wasn’t until I pointed to the spot where he needed to land on the farm that our facial expressions traded places. Now I was the one smirking smugly at him, and he was the one displaying agitation, together with wiping his palms on his jeans every so often and muttering under his breath ‘friggin’ sweaty palms’.

  As he placed the chopper down with perfection, I waved to my family, who were standing not too far from the shed. Bryce jumped out and gave a kind but subtle wave in their direction, and as he did, I noticed my mother’s wider than normal grin—she may have been 62, but she was still a woman. I watched him walk around the front of the chopper—his eyes meeting mine for a second—forcing a shy smile across his face.

  He opened the back door and let Nate and Charli out. They ran towards my parents and wrapped their arms around them while Bryce came around to my door and unbuckled my belt. He shot a quick glance toward my family which I found to be incredibly adorable. I placed my finger under his chin and directed his face to look at me.

  “Hey, I thought you said us Blaxlos were going to be putty in your hands, so why the nerves? Everything is going to be fine; they are going to love you.” I leaned forward once my buckle was undone and gave him a quick kiss.

  He reached in and placed both his hands on my hips then lifted me to the ground. “I’m not nervous.”

  “Liar. Come on.” I grabbed his hand and led him to my smiling family.

  As we approached, Olivia was singing ‘riding in a copta...wocka wocka wocka’. She put her arms out, so I took her from Jen as I kissed my sister on the cheek.

  “Hello Livy, did you see the big copta?”

  She excitedly pointed to the helicopter. “Dere dere”

  “Yes. And what sound does a copta make?”

  She bounced up and down in my arms. “ Wocka wocka wocka.”

  I laughed. “Good girl.” I leaned in and gave a Steven a peck on the cheek too. “Hi, Steven. Steven this is Bryce. Bryce, my brother-in-law Steven.”

  They shook hands. “Nice to meet ya, Mate.”

  “Likewise,” Bryce said with a smile.

  “And you remember Jen.”

  “Hi, Bryce, it’s nice to see you again. So, it would appear you don’t like driving,” she said with a silly grin. “I’m just kidding.”

  Bryce went to explain. “I could’ve—”

  I interrupted. “The kids wanted to fly, so we flew to cheer them up.” I raised my eyebrows at her. “Anyway, why drive when you can fly?”

  “Yeah, fair enough,” she replied.

  I gently placed my hand back in Bryce’s, his grip tightening to let me know he appreciated my closeness. We moved along the receiving line my family had created while Olivia kept singing ‘wocka wocka’ into my ear.

  “Hi, Mum.” She wrapped her arms around me, squashing Livy at the same time. I pulled back after kissing her cheek. “Mum this is Bryce. Bryce, this is my mum, Maryann.”

  She practically pushed me aside and wrapped her arms around him. “It’s so lovely to finally meet you, Bryce. Alexis has told me so much about you.”

  You’re such a liar, Mum. I haven’t told you SO much about anything.

  Bryce raised his eyebrows at me, obviously pleased to hear of my so-called ‘bragging’. “It’s a pleasure to meet you too, Mrs. Blaxlo,” he said.

  “Oh, you’re so sweet, but please, call me Maryann.”

  I passed Olivia to Mum and then approached my Dad who was still eyeing off the helicopter. “Bryce, this is my dad, Graeme.”

  Bryce shot out his hand. “Nice to meet you, Graeme—”

  “Please, call me Mr. Blaxlo.” Dad said, in a stern and mildly intimidating voice.

  “Dad!” I smiled at my father’s not so funny joke. “He’s kidding, Bryce,” I said as I gave my dad a hug. “You’re not funny, Dad.”

  Dad held out his hand to Bryce while chuckling to himself. He shrugged his shoulders. “Nice to meet you, Bryce.” They shook hands.

  “Thanks for letting us land the chopper in your paddock. I hope it didn’t spook your cattle.”

  Dad seemed pleased with Bryce’s concern for his beloved bovine. “Nah, it’s all good, although, you can do me a favour.”

  “Sure, what is it?”

  “I wouldn’t mind an aerial view of my property while your here.”

  “Of course, not a problem. Do you want to go up now?” Bryce asked enthusiastically.

  I butted in. “No, not yet. Let us get settled in and then you can go joyriding.”

  ***

  After the formal introductions were complete—apart from my brother who had no sense of appointed time—we settled in. Bryce got better acquainted with my family over a coffee and some of Mum’s scones. He was impressed with her baked masterpieces, so much so that he asked her what she had put in them. I watched her put her finger up to her lips, indicating it was a secret ingredient, but then dragging him into the kitchen to reveal what it was. I observed his expression of disbelief which had me now wondering what it was too—she refused to tell me...and so I did Bryce. I’ll remember that.

  Mum had also put out a platter of cheeses. I would normally dig in to the blue cheese, but I knew it was on the not-safe-to-eat-while-you’re-pregnant-list, so I avoided it and selected the cubed cheddar instead. Unfortunately, blue cheese had a powerful and God awful stench, and my super-human smelling abilities had honed in on that stench, triggering my vomit-express to leave stomach-station and begin its journey t
o its destination—my mouth. In my panic, I quickly covered my nose and mouth with my hand, then realising being sick was inevitable, shot up and ran for the toilet.

  I made it just in time, but gagged every time I pictured or thought about cheese. No, I love cheese. It’s not fair! I could so knock back a freakin’ glass of gin right now! I sulked for a bit then opened the door to the bathroom. Jen was standing just outside and as I opened the door, she pushed her way in, locking it behind her.

  “Hey! It’s fine, I’m fine. The cheese just smelled awful. Could you smell it?” My acting was far from Academy Award worthy.

  “No, it smelled fine, but then again, I’m not the one who is pregnant, am I?” Jen placed her hands on my shoulders and pierced me with her all too knowing eyes.

  Look away, Alexis. Look away. Fuck, she knows.

  “No, you’re not...,” I replied, “I am.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  “Alexis Elizabeth Summers,” was all Jen could say as she pulled me in for a hug—then pushed me out again to search my eyes—then pulled me back in again.

  “It wasn’t planned, Jen,” I mumbled into her chest. “I completely forgot to take my pill during that week I spent with Bryce. I know it’s no excuse, but I was so head-fucked at that point that it just completely slipped my mind.”

  “Does he know?” she asked, concerned.

  “Who? Bryce? Or Rick?”

  “Oh shit, Lexi! Whose baby is it?”

  “Calm down, Jen. It’s Bryce’s baby, and yes, he does know. He couldn’t be happier. We are both really happy. Obviously, I had no plans at this stage in my life to have another baby. But, it happened, and we are both really excited about it.”

  She stood there stunned for a moment then smiled brightly. “Well, in that case, congratulations.” She hugged me again. “How far along are you?”

  “Approximately nine weeks.”

  “Are you planning on telling Mum and Dad anytime soon? Because if you keep doing that...” she pointed to my hand which I had subconsciously placed on my belly in a rubbing circular motion, “...then you are going to give yourself away.” Oh shit!

  “No, not yet. We are going to wait a little while longer. The kids don’t even know. Only you and Bryce do.”

  “Okay, well in that case stop doing that.” She pulled my hand away from my stomach. “Oh wow, Lexi, you’re having another baby.” She took hold of my other hand and held both of them in front of us. We both beamed at each other and did a stupid little run on the spot while squealing, just like we had when she found out she was having twins. “You are seriously going to have one of the cutest babies ever!”

  I laughed. “I know.”

  Jen and I composed ourselves before leaving the bathroom, and I suddenly felt terrible for leaving Bryce alone for such a long time. My concern about him feeling awkward without my presence, however, appeared to be ridiculously unwarranted. Because, when I made my way back into the Kitchen area, Bryce was in the middle of helping Mum prepare the roast chicken. Well...help was probably the wrong word, he was actually in control and giving her lessons in what appeared to be the stuffing process. He looked up and caught me smirking at him but that soon changed as I took in the sight of his hand inside the carcass—my vomit-express threatening another departure from stomach-station.

  “Are you alright?” he asked, trying to sound concerned but knowing very well why I was sick.

  “Yeah, I’m fine. I think it may have been a bit of delayed motion or travel sickness from the chopper ride. I felt a bit yuck when we were in the air.”

  “You’re supposed to grow out of that, Alexis,” Mum grumbled. “We could never take her anywhere when she was younger,” she explained to Bryce.

  I screwed my face up at the molested chicken. “Um...I think I might go outside for some air. Where are the kids?”

  “Where they always are...on the tractor with your father.”

  I nodded and pointed to the door, indicating I was hauling my arse out of there and away from the gut-wrenching chicken.

  ***

  After Bryce had helped Mum in the kitchen, he offered to take both her and Dad up in the helicopter for the aerial view Dad had requested. Jen and Steven were sitting on the front porch with me, the twins were still blissfully asleep along with Olivia, and Nate and Charli had taken the quad bikes out in one of the paddocks. Sitting on Mum and Dad’s veranda on an autumn afternoon was simply divine. Our childhood home, which was a large, solid brick ranch-styled house with a tin roof and a veranda that circled all the way around the building, sat atop the highest point on the property, and being that it was situated on a hill, allowed you to experience one of the most stunning panoramic views of the valley. It really was picturesque and peaceful. Well, peaceful until the loud hum of an engine roared in the distance, getting louder as it approached the house.

  I knew the sound of the engine did not belong to the quads or the chopper.

  “Jake is here,” I said, lifting my eyebrow while taking a sip of my cup of tea.

  “Is he alone?” Jen asked, sarcastically.

  “Can’t see,” I replied, “probably not.”

  My older brother Jake was not married, and unfortunately I didn’t think he ever would be; he was just not the ‘settling down’ type. He was a truck driver and constantly on the road, not liking to tie himself down to anyone or anything, and he seemed more than happy to have a new girlfriend on his arm each time we saw him. And I use the term girlfriend very loosely.

  His Harley Davidson Fat Boy roared up the gravel driveway alongside Nate—who was on his quad—leaving a dust cloud behind them. Charli was on her quad following, with her mouth closed and a not so impressed look on her screwed up face. Jake jumped off the bike and removed his helmet, then laughed at Charli who was choking on some dust.

  “Now that is what I call ‘eating my dust’, Kiddo.”

  “You could’ve waited, Uncle Jake. I had to close the gate,” she spluttered between coughs.

  He walked over and patted her on the back. “If I had waited, I wouldn’t have won, would I?” He smiled, gave her helmet a light tap with his hand then headed in our direction.

  “I didn’t know it was a race,” Charli called out, unimpressed.

  “Ah, there are my two baby sisters.” He enthusiastically leapt up onto the veranda then uncomfortably squeezed in between me and Jen, putting his arms around our shoulders and pulling us in for an embrace. “Hey, Steve,” he nodded towards Jen’s husband, who was reading the paper.

  “Jake,” Steve acknowledged, in a brief and unperturbed manly kind of way.

  “So, where are your rugrats?” Jake asked Jen.

  “Asleep.”

  “Too easy,” he replied, retracting his hands from us and crossing them behind his head. Jen elbowed him in the ribs. “Hey, I’m kidding,” he winced with a chuckle. “So, Lex, where’s that good for nothing, son of a bitch husband of yours?”

  “Jake, shhh,” I hushed him, looking around to see where Nate and Charli had gone. “Don’t speak about him like that around the kids.”

  “It’s the truth though,” he responded angrily. “I’ll fucking kill him.”

  “No you won’t. And regardless, Rick is still their father and they love him so please be careful what you say around them. Anyway, he is spending Easter with Claire because I told him to. I didn’t think having him here while I was introducing you all to Bryce was a very good idea.”

  “Oh yeah! So where is this Bryce?” He tilted his head back to look inside.

  “Up there,” Jen said as she pointed to the sky.

  “What? On the roof?” He stood up and walked to the edge of the veranda looking up, confused.

  My brother was not the sharpest tool in the shed but he looked intimidating. He was a big build—quite solid. He had tattoos up both his arms and across his chest. His hair was a colour in between my blonde and Jen’s brown, and he always had a few days growth of beard on his face. But it was his kind, gentle blue
eyes that gave away his softer side.

  “No,” she mocked him. “In that helicopter flying around, Dad wanted an aerial view of the farm, so Bryce has taken Mum and Dad for ride.” Jen’s grin widened as she noticed Jake’s expression.

  “Fuck off. He’s flying that thing?”

  “Yes,” I butted in sternly. “He is a helicopter pilot. We flew here to cheer the kids up, they were miserable about not seeing Rick.”

  Jake pulled the ‘not-bad’ face then put his hand to his forehead to shield the sun’s blinding rays from his eyes. “So, am I gonna like the guy?”

  “I don’t care if you like him or not. I like him a lot, and that’s all that matters.”

  “No it’s not. You know you need your brother’s approval.” He pulled out a cigarette from the squashed pack in his pocket.

  “I do not need your fucking approval. Now behave, it’s hard enough for him to try and fit in as it is. It’s not easy having the stigma of billionaire following you around.”

  “Oh...poor him,” Jake pouted with his smoke hanging out of his mouth. “Shit, I’d just hate to be a billionaire, too.”

  “Shut up, Jake, you know what I mean. All I’m saying is he’s normal just like you and me, so treat him that way.”

  “Yeah normal alright, just ignore the shit load of money he has,” he mumbled as the chopper approached to land.

  ***

  Watching Bryce walk with my parents from the chopper as the rotor slowed down was kind of heart-warming. It was clear Mum was a fan, not only from her cooking lesson earlier but by how she let him hold her arm as they walked, guiding her along. Dad seemed pleased as well, talking non-stop, his mouth and hands moving in unison at a rapid rate.

  I stood up and grabbed my brother’s arm, gripping it tightly. “Please be nice,” I said under my breath. I then turned my back to Bryce and looked Jake in the eyes. “I’m in love with him Jake, I mean really in love with him.” I tugged my brother along as we stepped down from the porch.