by Lucy Clark
‘Really?’
Fletcher nodded. ‘He lives in Melbourne and is a second-year medical student.’
‘Wow. She must have been young when she had him.’
‘She was nineteen.’ Fletcher looked at her, his tone soft and filled with compassion. Molly stopped drying the cup, a lump immediately forming in her throat. The memories she had to force herself to so often repress flooded to the fore of her thoughts. Irrational thoughts such as why Eliza’s baby had lived but hers had died. Why had she been the unlucky one? Why had her beautiful baby been taken from her?
She clenched her jaw in an effort to stop the tears that were pricking behind her eyes. Swallowing a few times, she sniffed and tried hard to control her wobbling lower lip.
‘Oh, Molly.’ Fletcher was beside her in an instant and took the tea towel and cup from her hands, placing them onto the bench before brushing her hair behind her ear and trailing his fingers down the side of her cheek. ‘It still hurts?’
‘It will always hurt.’ The power behind her pain caused the floodgates to open and she started to cry. ‘I know other women lose babies but…but…’
‘Shh.’ Fletcher drew her closer into his arms, wanting to offer some sort of comfort. He couldn’t help but feel guilty at seeing her like this. It was his fault for the terrible way he’d handled things back then.
‘And they all seem to get over it and move on with their lives but I…I…’
‘Perhaps if we’d stayed together, perhaps if we’d tried for more children—’ Fletcher stopped, knowing that no amount of ‘what ifs’ was going to change the past. It was clear to him that Molly still felt the loss of their beautiful baby girl with a great intensity, even after all these years.
‘Did you ever speak to a counsellor about her?’ he asked gingerly as he stroked her wayward curls, trying to ignore the way she felt in his arms. So perfect, so natural, so right.
‘No. I just threw myself into my medical studies.’
‘So did I.’
Molly sniffed and pulled back to look up at him. ‘You did?’
‘Sure. I’d lost the woman I loved and a baby girl all in one fell swoop and even though you eventually accepted my apology, it all came too late. We’d said too much.’ He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed at her eyes. ‘My terrible temper, which I have spent years getting under better control, had made you hate me.’
‘No. I’ve never hated you, Fletch.’ She looked up at him with such a deep vulnerability, such a deep need, such a deep longing that he was having trouble fighting the urge to lower his mouth to hers and kiss her parted lips.
They’d stood in this exact position so many times in the past and even back then he’d thought her the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Nothing had changed. She was Molly. His Molly. Or…she had been.
When her tongue slipped out to wet her lips, her breathing having increased as much as his, he couldn’t ignore the warning bells ringing in the back of his mind. She was so familiar and perfect and…Molly. She was the first woman he’d ever truly loved and he knew that love would never truly die.
‘Is it serious?’ Her whispered words filtered around him but his mind was too thick with desire that he didn’t understand.
‘Pardon?’ He looked into her eyes, seeing her own need mirrored there. He stared for a long moment, all rational thought fleeing. ‘You look the same.’ The words sprang from his lips before he could stop them. ‘Still so beautiful.’ He swallowed and she watched the action of his Adam’s apple moving up and down. She bit her lip and he knew of old that she wanted to slide her hands up his shoulders, stand on tiptoe and press tiny kisses to his exposed neck.
Fletcher closed his eyes, knowing he should push her away, knowing this wasn’t right but unable to stop the emotions surging through him. Legally he had every right to follow his need but morally it was wrong.
‘You shouldn’t say such things if…you know…it’s serious with…’
‘Eliza.’ He whispered the name of the woman who had filled his beige-coloured life with easy-going laughter. The problem was, Molly filled his world with Technicolor. He shouldn’t compare the two. It wasn’t fair to either of them, nor himself. Plus, Molly was seeing that Roger fellow so, technically, neither of them should be standing as they were, contemplating what they were contemplating.
Keeping his eyes still closed, he placed his hands at her hips and gently eased her away, exhaling slowly. When he looked at her, she’d crossed her arms over her chest, whether because she was cold or defensive, he wasn’t sure. Perhaps it was both. ‘Yes, it is…serious with Eliza.’ He took three steps away from her and raked both hands through his hair. ‘It’s just that when I’m around you—’ he shook his head in bemusement ‘—life as I know it seems to alter.’
‘I understand.’ Molly picked up the cup and tea towel, finished drying the item and then put it back into the cupboard. It was clear she was uncomfortable, they both were, but Fletcher wasn’t sure what he should do. Should he explain everything to Molly? Tell her all about Eliza and how, after working closely together, she’d asked him to marry her?
Should he tell her that when he’d gone searching for the divorce decree, needing that piece of paper so he and Eliza could begin the process of their own paperwork, he’d been assuaged with a plethora of memories he’d thought he’d put aside for ever? Should he tell her that when it had sunk in that he technically wasn’t divorced, that he was in fact still married to Molly, a part of him had been ecstatically happy?
‘I should go’ was all he said.
‘OK.’ Her quick reply was indicative that she wanted him gone.
‘I guess both of us have a lot to think through.’
‘Yes.’
Monosyllables seemed to be all she was capable of now and he couldn’t blame her. His own mind was a jumbled mess and as he turned and headed towards the front door she followed him. ‘I can see myself out.’ The sooner both of them were away from the uncomfortable atmosphere surrounding them, the better.
‘OK.’ She stopped in the doorway to the kitchen and waved. He nodded once, then opened her front door and slipped through, closing it behind him. Fletcher closed his eyes for a moment, unable to believe everything that had just happened. He’d almost kissed Molly! What had he been thinking?
‘You weren’t,’ he mumbled as he pulled his keys from his pocket and quickly unlocked the door next to hers. ‘What are you doing?’ He walked towards his own kitchen, his duplex the mirror image of Molly’s. ‘You’re supposed to tell her about the divorce, get her to sign the new papers and then you’re out. Off with Eliza. Starting your new life!’
He closed his eyes and rested his head against the wall. ‘And now you’re talking to yourself.’ He pulled out his cell phone and dialled Eliza’s number. Talking to her would definitely help him to refocus, which was exactly what he needed. Eliza was calm and collected. She was relaxing and fun to be around. She didn’t exasperate him, she didn’t annoy him and she didn’t make him forget everything else around him.
‘Hello, you’ve reached Eliza. I’m unable to take your call at the moment, so please—’ Fletcher groaned as he waited for her voicemail message to finish before leaving his message. He disconnected the call then went into the bedroom to lie down. Part of him was actually relieved Eliza hadn’t answered as the sensation of guilt washed over him.
He’d almost kissed Molly!
Of course, he hadn’t gone there with that intention; it had just happened. She’d been upset about Katie, their beautiful little baby girl, and seeing her like that had caused his own pain and regret to surface. All those years ago, he’d been on the other side of the country when she’d told him she’d lost the baby, that she’d gone into premature labour and that there had been complications. He hadn’t handled the situation at all well. In fact, he’d been a downright brute. Even thinking about his behaviour back then turned his stomach and he wouldn’t have blamed Molly if she’d never spoken to
him again.
In his defence, he’d spent the prior week with his squabbling, verbally abusive parents at a family wedding. Molly hadn’t been able to fly across to Sydney with him given that she hadn’t been feeling well throughout her pregnancy.
‘It’s best if I stay here in Perth,’ she’d said. ‘Close to my dad. If there’s anything wrong with either me or the baby, I’ll have the best GP in the world looking after me.’
Reluctantly, he’d agreed.
‘Besides,’ she’d continued as she’d folded his clothes neatly, helping him pack, ‘from what you’ve told me about your family, I’m not sure I want to meet them.’
‘My uncle and cousins aren’t too bad, otherwise I wouldn’t be going. I used to spend a lot of time with them on their farm when I was a teenager because my parents were too busy yelling at each other and drinking to even remember to feed me.’
‘Sounds like a terrible childhood,’ she’d said, coming to slip her arms around his waist, her baby bump pressing into his back. He’d looked at her over his shoulder before shifting so he could wrap his arms around her.
‘It wasn’t the best.’
‘Why are your parents still together if they make each other so miserable?’
‘I have no clue.’ He’d kissed her, then bent to kiss her stomach. ‘And when I get back,’ he’d told the baby bump, ‘Mummy and Daddy are going to have another talk about where we’re going to live.’
Molly had sighed and turned away. ‘Not this again. Fletch, I’ve told you. I can’t have a baby and then move from Perth to the other side of Australia. I’ll need my family around me, my sisters. Plus Cora still needs me.’
Fletcher could remember being fascinated at the bond the triplets shared but, being an only child, he’d never really understood it.
‘I saw how much help Tish needed when Jasmine was born. The first year of motherhood is really difficult and plus half the time you’ll be working a thousand hours at the hospital during your internship and I’ll never see you. Then, when you finally get annual leave, you’re planning to go overseas to work with Pacific Medical Aid.’
Fletcher had zipped up his suitcase and glared at her. ‘You said you understood the need I have to do that type of work, to help others less fortunate, to ensure that medical care is available to everyone regardless of ethnicity or colour or gender.’
‘Yes. I do understand and I think that’s wonderful but what about me? What about my studies at medical school? Yes, I’ve been able to go part-time but once the baby’s born, I’ll need more help. I can’t study and look after a baby and do the wifey things around the home without help.’
‘We’ll get you a nanny and a house cleaner.’
‘That’s not what I’m talking about.’ She’d thrown her hands in the air and walked from the room. ‘We’ve had this same argument on and off for months now.’
‘Something’s got to give.’
‘Something or someone?’ she’d asked, crossing her arms over her chest in defiance. When the car horn had beeped from outside their small apartment, she’d looked away. ‘That’s your taxi. Enjoy your five-hour flight and family wedding. Perhaps there you’ll realise just how important family really is.’
‘Don’t I get a hug and a kiss goodbye?’ he’d asked but she’d walked into the bathroom and shut the door. The taxi driver had beeped his horn again and Fletcher had had nothing else to do except to call, ‘I love you,’ to the apartment in general before heading out.
The family wedding had been a week-long affair at a fancy hotel situated on Sydney harbour. His uncle had spared no expense as his only daughter had been walked down the aisle and given away to some stockbroker Fletcher had never met.
Aunts and cousins and nephews and uncles and nieces had all gathered together and complained about each other behind backs but then had been all smiles and fake friendliness. His uncle, the father of the bride, had got rip-roaring drunk, confessing to Fletcher that his sons were trying to take over the law-firm business he’d built up from the ground, that they were trying to put him out to pasture.
Fletcher had murmured appropriate responses, then moved on to another table only to hear another relative moan about things while getting sloshed. When his mother had berated his father because his father had dared to grope one of the waitresses, the gathered family had cheered. The verbal abuse, the emotional bullying, the hatred, had pierced through him.
He had known Molly’s family was different, that they loved and supported each other, but did she really want to live on the other side of the country from her husband? Then, when she’d called him on the phone, completely distraught, and told him that she’d gone into premature labour and their daughter hadn’t been able to make it, Fletch had been shocked.
‘What on earth were you doing that made you go into premature labour?’ The nasty abuse from spending time with his extended family had bled into his words, infecting him. ‘Did you drink something? Eat something? Did you go on another long walk with Stacey?’
‘Fletch—I didn’t do anything.’
‘Clearly. Otherwise you would have realised something was wrong and gone to the hospital earlier. I thought your father was looking after you. The best GP in the world. Hah. You’d have been better off coming with me to Sydney. At least there are better hospitals here.’
‘Fletch.’ She’d sobbed down the phone line but his grief had been fuelled by anger.
‘That’s it, Molly. As your husband I’m putting my foot down. You’re moving to Sydney with me. No more arguments.’
‘Fletcher…’ The tears had continued. ‘I don’t understand why…why…’
‘I’ll rent a place while I’m here and then when I get back, we’re packing up and moving over here before the month is out.’
‘She’s dead, Fletcher. Can’t you hear me? Our little Katie, our baby girl—she’s…she’s…’
‘You named her without me? We hadn’t decided on names. That does it. I’m booking a flight home right now. See you tonight.’
With that, he’d slammed down the phone.
Even now, Fletch still cringed at his behaviour back then. His young wife had needed him and he hadn’t been able to be there for her due to his own selfish emotions. He’d never shared deep-seated pain before, always going it alone when things went wrong. He hadn’t known how to support Molly while still holding himself together. What he should have done was to stay with her, to grieve with her, to cry with her for their loss.
‘Katie.’ It was a beautiful name and he couldn’t understand why he’d been so angry at her. She’d done what she’d had to do. He knew that now. ‘Hindsight.’ He shook his head, wishing he could go back and do things all over again but that was impossible.
CHAPTER SEVEN
WHEN MOLLY WOKE the next morning, she couldn’t believe how exhausted she felt. The past few days had been incredibly hectic and then yesterday evening, discovering that she was still married to Fletcher and then crying about Katie and learning that Fletcher was involved with another woman and that it was serious and—
She shifted in the bed, realising she was lying on something lumpy. She pulled out whatever it was only to discover it was Katie’s teddy bear. Molly hugged the bear tight. Her sisters had bought this bear for the new addition to their family.
‘I don’t care if it’s a boy or a girl,’ Cora had stated. ‘This baby is going to be absolutely smothered with aunty love.’ She’d just come home from a short stay in hospital due to a kidney infection. After having her pelvis crushed in a horrendous car accident and thus having surgery to remove one of her ovaries, Cora had been told by her doctors that she would never be able to naturally carry a child, which made Molly’s little baby all that more precious to the three of them.
‘From both of us,’ Stacey had added as she’d smoothed the red satin bow tied delicately around the teddy bear’s neck.
‘I think Jasmine might be the one to smother her with aunty love,’ Molly had added, the three o
f them laughing as the one-and-a-half-year-old toddler had come running into the room, begging to be picked up.
Molly had cuddled her little sister close, imagining what it might be like to do that with her own child. ‘What shall we call the bear?’ she’d asked Jasmine.
‘Katie.’ Jasmine’s little voice had spoken the word clearly.
‘I like Katie.’ Molly had nodded.
‘Me, too,’ Stacey had added.
‘I like it as well but I like it for the baby, not the teddy bear.’ Cora’s words had been thoughtful and positive. ‘Not Kate, not Kathryn or Kath but Katie.’
‘Katie Thompson.’ Molly had grinned as she’d said the name, nodding. ‘When Fletch gets back to Perth, I’ll run it by him.’
‘How’s things going at his family’s wedding reunion thing?’ Stacey had accepted a wriggling Jasmine from Molly.
‘Not good. He rarely sees his parents and mentioned that, after this wedding, he’d be more than happy never to see them again.’
‘I guess we just don’t understand.’ Cora had held her hands out for a cuddle with Jasmine.
‘No.’ Molly had sighed. ‘And that’s why Fletcher doesn’t seem to understand that I can’t leave here to go and live on the other side of Australia without my sisters.’
‘It’s difficult for anyone who isn’t a twin or a triplet to understand the bond we share. It’s not just that we’re sisters, it’s that we’re connected,’ Stacey had added, handing Katie’s bear to Molly.
Molly looked at the faded red ribbon with its slightly frayed edges, remembering all the times she’d cuddled that teddy bear whenever she hadn’t been able to sleep, whenever she’d been plagued with memories of her past, of Fletcher and their beautiful little girl.
She kissed the bear and put it from her, knowing she needed to get up. Her alarms hadn’t gone off yet so thankfully she had plenty of time to take things easy this morning. Having Fletcher burst back into her life, it was little wonder that so many old memories were beginning to surface.
As she turned over she checked the clock and did a double take when she saw the time. ‘What?’ How had she slept through her alarms? Ward round would be starting in ten minutes’ time. As though on cue, her phone rang, the crazy ringtone she’d assigned to Alexis piercing the silence of her room.
