The Maxwell Sisters

by Loretta Hill

‘Adam,’ she heard her mother say, ‘will you pass me the bread?’

  ‘Sure.’ The bread basket came over again and to her dismay Anita extracted two rolls, put one down on her plate and one on Eve’s.

  ‘Thank you.’ Her mother nodded decisively and Adam pulled the bread back to himself, grinning mischievously as though he had personally orchestrated her downfall.

  Eve couldn’t help it, she laughed at the hopelessness of it all.

  ‘Lovely,’ he said appreciatively.

  ‘Did you say something, Adam?’ Anita looked up.

  ‘I said it smells lovely.’ Adam took knife and fork to his meal. ‘You’re a very good cook.’

  ‘Eve is much better,’ Anita smiled. ‘She’s a top chef in a restaurant in Perth, you know. What’s it called again, darling?’

  ‘Margareta’s,’ Eve responded quietly.

  ‘That’s right. Eve can cook anything and make it taste sensational. She’s always had a knack with food.’

  Eve felt heat crawl up her neck and wished her mother would move along to the next topic of conversation.

  Luckily, Patricia decided to enter the fray at this stage. ‘Yes, well, Spider has been trying for months now to get Eve onto his cooking show as a guest presenter.’

  ‘I’m afraid,’ Eve tried to stem the conversation herself now, ‘that it’s just not my thing.’

  ‘But it would give you so much exposure, my dear.’

  Exactly why it’s not my thing.

  ‘And the winery too,’ Patricia addressed this comment to Anita and John.

  ‘I don’t think Tawny Brooks needs more publicity,’ Anita responded. ‘It’s well known enough. Besides, children should be left to follow their own path.’

  ‘Oh, I completely agree,’ Patricia nodded but then went on to say, ‘Spider, however, has absolutely thrived in front of the camera. His cooking is so exotic now from all the tips he’s picked up trying to be different. Isn’t that true, dear?’

  ‘Cooking for TV has certainly been a very steep learning curve,’ Spider acknowledged her point.

  ‘Phoebe,’ Patricia patted her future daughter-in-law’s hand and said with a pointed look at John Maxwell, ‘you are very lucky to be getting your own live-in Masterchef when you marry my son. Very lucky indeed.’

  Surprisingly, this time her father did not interject and Phoebe began to gush, ‘Oh I know, I –’

  She was cut off, however, by a snort from her mother’s direction. Phoebe’s gaze shot to Anita, who said, while vigorously cutting her moussaka into smaller bits, ‘Phoebe is quite a catch herself as a schoolteacher, you know. She’ll make an excellent mother. She’s absolutely brilliant with children.’

  ‘Yes, but to be a stay-at-home mum, you need a man with a solid job and a good income.’

  ‘Phoebe,’ Anita squeezed her daughter’s name out through lips that had pressed themselves together far too strongly, ‘is a very independent woman who is passionate about her career. I’m sure she will find a way to do both.’

  Phoebe opened her mouth to say something but Patricia got in first.

  ‘Of course, Phoebe has ambition. But it’s all about stamina, isn’t it? Sometimes it’s just easier to let one’s partner do all the hard work.’

  ‘O-h.’ The word was pronounced so exaggeratedly as to make Anita’s open mouth of surprise look rather grotesque.

  Eve cringed.

  Her father slapped his knee, chuckling in enormous enjoyment of the exchange as Anita began to turn a rather alarming shade of purple.

  ‘Phoebe is not afraid of hard work.’

  ‘Er … Mum –’ Phoebe tried desperately to interrupt.

  ‘She is extremely diligent with her lesson preparation after school and sinks many long hours into that. After all, she handles a classroom of thirty children daily.’

  ‘Spider reaches a national audience daily.’

  ‘Phoebe shapes young lives.’

  ‘Spider shares recipes with the world.’

  ‘Phoebe works late every night.’

  ‘Spider never sleeps.’

  ‘Phoebe –’

  ‘Phoebe …’ Anita’s youngest daughter startled the group by rising abruptly to her feet. ‘Phoebe,’ she smiled, raising her glass, ‘would like to make a toast.’

  In relief, Eve grabbed her glass that was filled with her father’s shiraz. Intense, ripe and youthful, it was the only red her mother served with moussaka as it enhanced its spicy taste.

  ‘To family,’ Phoebe raised her glass. ‘Both our families, coming together, warmly.’

  Her father chuckled again.

  She fixed him with a glare before continuing, ‘And openly to help celebrate our marriage.’

  ‘Cheers!’ Everyone clinked glasses.

  Eve refused to make eye contact with Adonis as he clinked hers.

  Phoebe sat down again as the gathering finally settled into neutral small talk. Graeme questioned John about the process of vintage and how it was all done. Her father explained how harvest was conducted in short intense bursts where they fully picked one grape variety and processed it immediately.

  Phoebe and Tash both contributed and she would have thought Adonis would as well, being the winemaker and all, but he steered completely clear of it. Focusing, unfortunately, all his attention on her.

  ‘So, do you think Spider really never sleeps?’

  ‘Well, of course he sleeps,’ she said rather impatiently, taking another sip of her wine and not meeting his eyes.

  ‘How would you know?’

  She felt her cheeks warm irrationally. ‘What do you mean, how would I know?’

  ‘Have you actually seen him sleeping?’

  Chagrin gripped her. Only once. They’d been poring over recipe books for ideas for their restaurant till the wee hours of the morning. He’d fallen asleep on the couch and she’d covered him with a blanket. And …

  ‘Are you all right?’

  She looked up into those deep blue eyes and nearly had to slap herself to disconnect their gazes.

  ‘I’m fine.’ She took another gulp of shiraz and said abruptly, ‘And no, I’ve never seen him sleeping. Maybe you should ask Phoebe, she can clarify.’

  ‘I’d rather talk to you.’

  She gritted her teeth and for once conveyed her annoyance, hoping he would get the message. ‘About what?’

  He picked up his glass, sipping it and considering her as though he was trying to figure his way around a puzzling problem. ‘I’m concerned that you might have the hots for me.’

  She choked on her wine, spraying some out from her mouth. ‘What?’ She grabbed a napkin to dab at her lips.

  ‘Don’t get me wrong.’ He lifted his hands to reassure her. ‘I’m flattered, really.’

  ‘How nice for you.’ She glared at him, folding her arms to allow him time to hang himself.

  ‘No, seriously.’ He seemed to be at pains to spare her feelings. ‘I think you’re great. Interesting, quirky, maybe a little weird.’

  ‘Weird?’ she protested.

  ‘In a good way. I mean, you’re not like your sisters.’

  Her arms tightened and her eyes narrowed. ‘In what way?’

  He was silent for a moment, watching her steadily until he seemed to miraculously hit upon the answer. ‘You seem to be incredibly easy to annoy.’

  She gasped, dropping her arms. ‘That’s how you’re going to differentiate me from my sisters?’ What happened to quieter, shyer, even ‘more retiring’? That, she could have accepted because it was the truth. ‘I am not easy to annoy.’

  A soft laugh vibrated in his chest. ‘You’re annoyed right now.’

  ‘No, I’m not.’ Her brow wrinkled in irritation.

  He shook his head, grinning at her. ‘What did you want me to say? That you’re prettier than they are?’

  Her breath hitched. ‘You think I’m pretty?’

  ‘I think you’re beautiful.’

  She blinked, slightly taken aback.

 
; ‘But,’ he sighed as one passing on a cream puff, ‘you’re not on my radar. Nor is any other girl in the neighbourhood. I’m here to work. So whatever you were thinking before,’ he stabbed a cherry tomato with his fork and popped it in his mouth, ‘it’s not going to happen. I just thought you should know, before you got your hopes up.’

  Wow. This has gone on long enough.

  ‘O-kay.’ She pronounced her words slowly, to give them time to sink into his thick conceited skull: ‘I-do-not-have-the-hots-for-you. Not even slightly. In fact, right now, I think you’re a narcissistic, arrogant pig.’

  ‘Really?’ He seemed genuinely surprised. ‘So then why have you been sending me signals all evening?’

  She was horrified. ‘I have not been sending you any signals.’

  ‘You were staring at me before.’

  ‘In your dreams,’ she hissed.

  ‘And you did try to sit in my lap.’

  ‘That,’ she put her glass down heavily, ‘was an accident!’

  ‘And you did that whole weird thing when we first met, where you tried to bump into me on purpose.’

  ‘You know,’ she coughed as she felt blood rushing to her face, ‘you have some imagination.’

  ‘Do I?’ He seemed genuinely contrite. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to jump to conclusions.’

  ‘Good,’ she said shortly, determined to end the subject. ‘Apology accepted.’ She picked up her fork and glanced down the table to see if she could engage someone else in conversation. Unfortunately, everyone seemed absorbed. Even her mother was talking in civilised tones to Patricia about the merits of cloth napkins over paper ones at the wedding, which, surprisingly, they seemed to be in agreement over.

  ‘So now that we’ve established that you don’t have the hots for me and I’m not in the market for a relationship,’ Adonis addressed her again as though there had been no lull in the conversation, ‘we can now have a safe conversation unfettered by sexual tension.’

  ‘Lucky us,’ she returned sardonically, now resigned to the fact that all her escape routes were blocked. ‘What do you mean by “safe” exactly?’

  ‘Well, you talk a little bit about you and I’ll talk a little bit about me. And we’ll just sort of get to know each other as friends.’

  Friends, of course. All men thought she’d make a good friend.

  Despite her better judgement, however, she decided to go with it. After all, she was interested to know about this man who had so easily ingratiated himself into her family.

  ‘You first,’ she declared. ‘Where are you from?’

  ‘The Barossa. I was a winemaker there for five years.’

  ‘So why did you leave?’

  He smiled a little sadly. ‘Things got complicated. Your turn. Where do you live?’

  ‘Perth. I’m a chef for a restaurant called Margareta’s.’

  ‘So I heard. But didn’t you used to head up the Tawny Brooks restaurant with Spider?’

  ‘Yes,’ she snapped.

  ‘What happened?’

  ‘Things got complicated.’ She smiled back.

  He shook his finger at her. ‘You’re smarter than you look.’

  ‘Much smarter,’ she agreed. ‘So why does my mother like you so much?’

  He winked at her. ‘What’s not to like?’

  ‘Please.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘Are you ever serious?’

  ‘I try very hard not to be,’ he admitted. ‘So what do you think about this wedding?’

  ‘I think it’s great,’ she said, hoping he didn’t hear the squeak in her voice. ‘What do you think of it?’

  ‘I’m not a big fan of weddings,’ he admitted rather cautiously. ‘But that’s all right. I probably won’t be invited to this one.’

  ‘Not invited!’ Anita broke in on their conversation, surprising them both. ‘Of course you’ll be invited, Adam.’

  Eve blushed. At what point had her mother started listening?

  ‘Phoebe,’ Anita shouted down the table, ‘you’ll be inviting Adam to the wedding, won’t you?’

  Phoebe smiled rather helplessly and Eve had a feeling she hadn’t even thought about it.

  ‘Don’t let her put you on the spot,’ Adonis assured her quietly. ‘I was definitely not expecting an invitation.’

  Her sister’s face softened. ‘Of course you should come. Especially if you’re helping us redo the restaurant.’

  ‘Face it, son, you’re one of the family now,’ John told him. ‘Might as well just toe the line. It’s not too bad. I’ve been doing it myself for years.’

  There was laughter and as the chatter moved away from them again, Eve gazed at Adam apologetically. ‘Sorry, did I just serve you up?’

  He peeked up at her from the contemplation of his plate. ‘Like a trussed turkey.’

  ‘My family is not very good at the whole personal space thing.’

  ‘Actually, I’m quite sure they don’t know it exists,’ he smiled. ‘When I applied for this job, I didn’t realise how fully integrated into the Maxwell way of life I would become.’ His blue eyes took on a wistful look. There seemed to be less teasing behind his words this time. ‘Honestly, I came to Yallingup to be alone. To be silent. And instead, I’ve never had so much noise in my life.’

  ‘You didn’t have to stay tonight,’ Eve assured him. ‘My mother would have understood. You could have left.’

  ‘Really?’ His eyes fairly danced at her. ‘I had a choice, did I? Then put that piece of bread back now. Go on! I dare you.’

  ‘All right, I take your point.’ She grinned.

  ‘You’re very lucky to have them, you know. Your family.’

  Her eyes widened in surprise. ‘I am?’

  ‘As it turns out,’ he said as he cut another piece of moussaka, ‘quiet was not what I really needed at all.’

  Chapter 11

  Natasha had a strong feeling that when dinner was finally over everyone was relieved. They’d got through it! Now they could all finally retire to their bedrooms, close their doors and not have to deal with anyone until morning.

  Lucky them.

  Not so much for her.

  As far as she was concerned, she was heading off to the most stressful part of the evening – private time with Heath. Too private for her liking.

  There were five bedrooms in the house. The master bedroom for her parents. The three bedrooms that she and her sisters had used as kids and a guest bedroom containing a queen bed for visitors.

  Patricia and Graeme naturally got the guest bedroom. Natasha and her sisters were to sleep in their old bedrooms with their respective partners. The seven of them made the trek down the hall to the back of the house. Phoebe and Spider were at the front, all happy and holding hands. In their wake were Patricia and Graeme, who spoke in subdued but comfortable tones. And then there was Eve. Quiet, head downcast as she followed them to her room – the only person sleeping alone.

  The desperation to grab Eve’s arm and whisper, ‘Can I bunk with you?’ was almost uncontrollable. Pride stopped her in the nick of time.

  Pride and common sense. After everything she had accused Eve of being, how could she beg for her help now? Especially on the back of her own failure. They’d had a small moment at dinner but she wouldn’t say it was enough to erase the words they’d flung at each other the morning Eve had decided to leave Tawny Brooks – a day after the fire. The memory of her own contempt sliced through her. She had judged and condemned all in the one sitting.

  Or should she say ‘standing’? The argument had happened outside, next to Eve’s car. Her sister had been packing it to leave, filling it up with her suitcases and a crate of cookbooks, when Natasha had run up to stop her.

  ‘So you’re leaving, just like that?’ she’d demanded, breathless.

  Eve had looked back at her blankly, her eyes red-rimmed and unseeing. ‘I don’t know what to say to you, Tash.’

  ‘How about “I’m sorry for being so selfish”?’

  ‘What?’ Eve’s voice had
been faint as she closed the boot. ‘I told you not to take Dad’s money. I told you you weren’t ready for a responsibility like that.’

  ‘So what do you want me to say, Tash?’ Eve looked up, already beaten. ‘You were right? Fine, you were absolutely correct. I was destined to be a failure and now I am.’

  ‘You still have a chance,’ she’d argued. ‘Stay and clean up your mess.’

  ‘I can’t.’

  ‘Of course you can,’ she remembered saying in disgust. ‘Replace the floor and start over.’

  ‘I don’t want to.’

  Natasha’s mouth had dropped open. ‘You don’t want to? Why not?’

  ‘You may not have noticed but in the last couple of months we’ve been losing diners anyway.’

  ‘Then fight for them. Change tactics, mix it up, I don’t know. Anything but quit.’

  Eve was silent for a moment, her face strangely vacant. ‘I just don’t think I can.’

  ‘Don’t be silly.’

  ‘I’m not like you, Tash. I can’t do it. I just need to go.’ She would have turned then and climbed into her car but Natasha had grabbed her by the shoulders.

  ‘Stop thinking about yourself. You’ve spent all of Mum and Dad’s retirement money on that restaurant, you can’t just abandon it.’

  ‘Tash, you need to get off my case.’

  ‘No, I should have pushed harder when I had the chance,’ she swore. ‘I knew they shouldn’t have given you the money.’

  ‘Really?’ Eve looked stricken. ‘And why is that, Tash? Because you knew it would be a dead loss?’

  ‘No, Eve, because you run at the first sign of trouble. Look at you now.’

  ‘I’ve spoken about this with Dad. He’s fine with me letting the restaurant go for the moment. I may come back to it eventually, I don’t know, I haven’t looked that far in advance. I don’t want to think about it.’

  Natasha had lifted a hand to massage her temple. ‘I don’t believe this. How can you take advantage of him like that? You know how soft he is. Hell, you knew that from the beginning, otherwise you wouldn’t have demanded he give you all his life savings.’

  ‘I didn’t demand it,’ Eve protested.

  ‘But you certainly had no guilt about asking for it,’ Natasha threw at her.