The Road to Hope

by Rachael Johns

  He’d asked Lauren to speak to the residents about their favourite festive traditions and what it was that they most missed about Christmas at home. Apart from May, whose daughter would be collecting her and taking her for lunch on their farm, the others were all staying in the hospital for the day.

  Barbara had confessed that the things she missed most were the aromas in her kitchen and the thrill she got cooking for a crowd. Lauren, who’d always found cooking therapeutic, understood and immediately went to the hospital kitchen to ask Helen, the cook, whether she could help on the day. Perhaps peel some veggies or whisk the batter for the Yorkshire puddings. Although a special roast and a pudding with ice-cream were always served on Christmas Day, Helen absolutely refused to allow a patient in her kitchen. She was resolute in this decision until Lauren told Tom and he went off to work his magic.

  She shouldn’t have been surprised when he came back from that discussion looking victorious. Women, old and young alike, could not resist his charms and tough-as-boots Helen was no exception. Now Barbara was beside herself with excitement at the prospect of helping prepare the Christmas feast, and plans were underway for sneaking Ginger into the hospital courtyard as a special surprise for Alf and Nancy.

  Yet despite Tom’s enthusiasm, Lauren couldn’t help feeling that the wall he’d put between them after the conversation about his father was still as strong as ever.

  Oh, he talked to her plenty, but stuck to safe topics such as work, Ginger’s care or his hospital Christmas plans. They no longer cooked or had dinner together and if he was still swimming laps, his exercise never coincided with hers.

  It felt silly to be so cut up about the loss of a friendship that had barely lasted a few weeks but she couldn’t help it. It seemed so long since their kiss in the hospital storeroom, but that memory plagued her almost every second of each day. So many times she’d drifted into her own little world, imagining his lips on hers yet again. And that got her wondering other things about him. Things like what kind of woman could have broken up with someone so sexy, funny, hardworking and kind to old people and animals alike?

  His ex-girlfriend had to have rocks in her head, but then again, Lauren was beginning to wonder if she did too. Maybe she should have slept with Tom when she had the chance, because right now…she had nothing.

  The whole town believed them to be shagging each other stupid every night, where in reality she spent most nights sitting on the couch, stroking Ginger and wishing Tom would come and watch a movie with her again. Her reputation was still in tatters but she had neither friendship nor sex to show for it.

  No, that was wrong. Lauren took a deep breath and forced herself to think more positively. She should be proud of the way she’d stuck to her guns and followed through on her decision to value herself more than sex. It didn’t matter what the town thought, because she knew the truth.

  She desired Tom, wanted him more than she’d ever wanted anyone, but she hadn’t let any of that sway her from becoming a better person.

  As Tom pulled himself up on the edge of the pool, hot wind blew into his face. It had been a scorcher of a day and at almost seven o’clock at night there was no sign of the temperature dropping. He glanced at the three middle-aged women walking laps at the other side of the pool and thought wistfully back to the couple of weeks he’d swum his laps in the morning with Lauren as eye candy only a lane or two away.

  In the name of self-preservation, he’d taken to swimming in the evenings instead of early morning when she normally did her exercise. Dealing with Lauren at work, organising Christmas and everyday matters such as who should feed Fat Cat was bad enough, but his restraint did not need further testing with a daily dose of her in a bathing suit.

  His mouth went dry and he felt certain muscles tightening at the memory of that image. Even her fairly tame one-piece highlighted the perfection of her long legs. She was slim but had curves in all the right places, and he kept finding himself drifting off at inopportune moments as he fantasised about touching them again. How many times had he closed his eyes and thought back to their fleeting encounter in the storeroom?

  The way her breasts had felt pressed against him and the taste of her lips and then her delicate skin as he’d kissed down her neck, anticipating going lower. He closed his eyes a moment, imagining he had her in his arms again. She felt so good, his hands curving over her bum as he pulled her close, tight up against his erection, and he knew that her breasts would fit perfectly in the palms of his hands.

  And there he went again, thinking illicit thoughts when he should be towelling himself dry. These fantasies weren’t helping anything and he hated that he couldn’t control them. If it weren’t for Taryn interrupting them that day in the storeroom, likely things would have gone a lot further. While part of him couldn’t help wishing they had, he’d never done anything so unprofessional in his life and he would never have forgiven himself for treating Lauren so cheaply.

  With this sobering thought, he nodded at the pool attendant as she emptied the bins around the perimeter, and then trekked across to his bag waiting on the grass. He picked up his towel and as he began to dry himself, the sound of his phone pierced the air. He’d set it to maximum volume so he’d be more likely to hear it if he got called away to an emergency, but as he picked it up he saw it was his sister.

  Monica had been calling almost daily since his dad disappeared, giving him updates on everything from what her daughters were (or were not) eating for breakfast to how their mother was coping. He both looked forward to and dreaded these calls. His family had always been close. Now the ice had been broken, he welcomed the regular updates as they made him feel not so far away, but each one also amplified his guilt.

  Taking a deep breath, he pressed Accept. ‘Hey little sis, how’s things?’

  ‘Thanks for the girls’ presents,’ she rushed, in her usual way of talking a mile a minute. ‘They arrived this morning and unfortunately we were all sitting in the lounge room when the delivery man knocked so Bella and Zoe have been at me all day to open them early.’

  Tom opened his mouth to tell Mon she may as well let them, that he didn’t mind when they unwrapped what he’d sent, but she kept talking and he couldn’t get a word in.

  ‘You really didn’t have to. Lord knows Mum’s gone overboard again with their gifts and Paul and I had a weak moment a few months ago and bought them each an iPad. I know…what was I thinking? It’s not like they aren’t already totally spoilt.’

  She paused for breath and Tom launched in. ‘I love them Mon, I want to spoil them too.’ His two nieces were as close as he’d ever get to kids of his own.

  ‘Aw. They adore you too.’ He could tell tears were close. ‘Please tell me you’re going to surprise us with an appearance on the doorstep tomorrow night. We’ve never had Christmas apart. It doesn’t seem festive without you around. I’ll be in a foul mood all day and if I drink too much and start telling Caroline’s husband what I really think of him… Well, it’ll be all your fault.’

  He laughed. ‘That’s right. Blame me for your PMS. I can take it. And since when have you kept your mouth shut about Caroline’s husband anyway? Or any other issue that doesn’t concern you.’

  She snorted. Sighed. ‘See, that’s why I miss you, big bro. No one else talks to me like you do. I’m a danger to everyone without you around.’

  ‘No one else dares. And I’m sure everyone will cope.’ He didn’t want to dwell on not being around much either. Maybe he should have gone home, or accepted a position where he didn’t have to work over the festive period. But when he’d set out on his journey, the thought of being near his dad during his rapid decline, watching his mum trying to keep everyone’s spirits up, and coping with his sisters—who weren’t in the same predicament as him—was too much to bear.

  ‘But what about you? What are you doing on Christmas Day? I can’t stand to think of you all alone eating a ham sandwich or something while we’re all stuffing our faces and drinking like sail
ors.’

  ‘Stop worrying about me,’ he growled. ‘I’m working, and before you say anything, I’m looking forward to it. The hospital here has a residential wing for elderly people in need of high care and I’m going to spend Christmas with them.’

  ‘Sounds riveting.’

  ‘They’re good people, Mon. And not all of them have family around, so some of the other staff and I are planning an extra special Christmas for them.’

  When he said ‘other staff’ he heard his voice catch in his throat. It’d be easier if Lauren weren’t the main nurse working Christmas Day because he’d had to draw her into his plans—and that made keeping his distance tricky. Spending time with her only amplified the feelings he’d been trying to ignore. It was one thing finding her attractive and wanting to sleep with her, but getting to know her better wasn’t safe. And falling for her was out of the question.

  That said, he wasn’t going to let his nervousness around Lauren stop him giving the old folks a fabulous day. They didn’t have much joy in their lives, and if he could bring a little bit, he’d be happy.

  ‘Well, I suppose I should take solace in the fact that at least you won’t be alone,’ Monica said with resignation.

  ‘I’ll be fine,’ he told her, relieved she wasn’t going to give him a guilt trip. He already felt like scum, which was why he’d gone over the top with all the presents he’d sent home.

  ‘Oh, sorry Tom, I have to go. World War Three has broken out in the lounge room and I need to remind them that Santa only visits good girls. I love you. And I’ll call on Christmas Day.’

  ‘Love you too.’ Tom disconnected the call, shoved his towel in his bag and sat while he pulled on and tied up his sneakers.

  Lauren was on the late shift again, so instead of visiting Ned, he walked the short distance to the house, let himself in and almost tripped in the doorway as Ginger wrapped himself around his legs. As he bent down to greet him, the cat meowed so loudly it almost took the roof off. This had happened every time he’d come home for almost a week, but he still hadn’t gotten used to it.

  Lauren reckoned Ginger acted this way because he craved affection, but Tom knew better. The evil feline thought about little else but his stomach and would stop at nothing to get his daily bowl of cream. Knowing he wouldn’t get a moment’s peace until he’d fed the thing, Tom did that task first and then whipped up a veggie stir-fry for himself. He scoffed it down, cleaned up his mess and then left a bowl in the microwave for Lauren as had become his habit when she worked late. It was the least he could do to thank her for opening her home to him, and it was also safe.

  It let him show his appreciation without putting his heart through the ringer by sitting down to share dinner with her. That sounded like an innocuous thing—two colleagues having a meal together after a hard day’s work—but Tom couldn’t see Lauren simply as a colleague and whenever he looked at her over the dinner table, he fantasised about what his life would be like if they were ‘together’ and came home to each other every night. Not just the mind-blowing sex they’d undoubtedly have but the little things couples shared, like dinner, favourite TV shows and conversation about what had happened during the day.

  But like most fantasies, this one was an impossible dream and he knew he needed to banish it from his head. He was just having a little trouble actually doing it.

  Chapter Twenty

  Christmas in Hope Junction was mostly about farmers rushing to finish harvesting in time, kids all hyped up about Santa’s annual visit to the Memorial Hall, and people who generally gave religion a wide berth cramming into one of the town’s three churches sometime on Christmas Eve. Then there was the annual lights contest, which garnered more support and enthusiasm every year. Townies decked their houses from the garden beds to the roof awnings in multi-coloured flashing fairy lights and life-size blow-up Santas, and farmers dressed up their farm gates in much the same manner. This year the voting would take place on Facebook, but that didn’t stop the annual pilgrimage of people checking out the displays around town. Good humoured and healthy competition abounded.

  Lauren couldn’t recall the last time she’d participated in any of these traditions—being single and without family it was easy to go under the radar—but thanks to Tom, this year would be different. The first item on their Christmas agenda was taking the elderly hospital residents to the evening service. Which was how she found herself pushing Barbara in a wheelchair towards the Uniting Church just before dusk on Christmas Eve. A few feet ahead, Tom pushed Ned. The other residents, including Alf, who insisted on walking, were also in the procession with volunteers from the Hospital Auxiliary.

  The church was already packed when they arrived but Tom had thought of everything. He’d called ahead and an area at the front had been cleared for the wheelchairs so the old folks would have a prime view of the local primary school choir. As Lauren positioned Barbara’s wheelchair and pushed on the brakes, she glanced down the row and something inside her felt as if it might burst out of her chest.

  She’d never seen any of them looking so happy—even Ned was smiling, and that was a rare occurrence indeed. She hoped his face wouldn’t hurt tomorrow from the use of long-dormant muscles. As she looked up again, Tom caught her gaze. Her heart somersaulted in her chest as the effect of his grin ricocheted to every extremity. Everything about him left her breathless. It wasn’t just his good looks or his charms, or even his sense of humour. All that was hot, yes. But the way he treated people—especially her elderly friends—was far and away his most attractive feature.

  Tearing her eyes from his, Lauren took a seat on one of the plastic chairs that had been set up on either side of the wheelchairs and made small talk with Barbara and May as the church filled. Every now and then she glanced behind her, smiling and waving at people as they filed into the pews behind her.

  The Quartermaines came in—Karina, Mrs Q, Lucy, Flynn and of course Ellie—and took up almost a whole row. As she waved at them, it hit Lauren that the last time she’d been in this church had been for Flynn and Ellie’s wedding. Once upon a time that memory would have left her cold and empty, but now she felt strangely detached. She no longer wanted to stick pins in Ellie’s eyes and kidnap Flynn for herself. He was still handsome and an all round good catch, but he no longer made her heart flutter every time she thought of him. Her feelings for him were like a distant memory, and she could now see it had only ever been a high school crush left unresolved for far too long.

  This realisation should have been a liberating one, but Lauren knew the reason she could finally think of Flynn Quartermaine without getting hot and bothered came down to one thing: her heart had no room for anyone but Tom. She’d never met a man like him and she’d never wanted one more than she wanted him. Unfortunately, despite his initial flirtatious behaviour and that one interrupted attempt at seduction, she suspected he was still hung up on his ex. Ever since the night of Ellie’s party he’d been playing it cool.

  And so history repeated itself. Once again, she’d fallen for a man who didn’t love her back.

  Clutching each other’s hands, Rats and Whitney walked down the aisle and slid in next to Flynn and Ellie. Lauren tried to quash her depressing thoughts as she summoned a smile and lifted her hand to wave at her friends who, like Flynn and Ellie, were celebrating their first Christmas as husband and wife. Whitney looked radiant in a red dress and a jangly green necklace that appeared to be made of tinsel. Rats leaned back in his seat and stretched his arm over her shoulder. Lauren watched as he drew his wife into his side and dropped a kiss on the top of her head.

  As the minister tapped the microphone and got ready to welcome everyone to the early evening service, Lauren felt a tear bubble in her eye. Why couldn’t she find someone to love her like Rats loved Whitney and Flynn loved Ellie? Was that really too much to ask? The past few days planning Christmas with Tom had been some of the best of her life, but he’d never once attempted to kiss her.

  ‘Ooh, aren’t they cut
e.’ Barbara reached out and patted Lauren’s knee, jolting her out of her thoughts.

  She blinked her pathetic tears back, trying to focus on the choir of young children who’d now gathered at the front of the church. The boys wore bright green t-shirts and Santa hats and the girls were in red t-shirts and had reindeer ears perched on their heads. Cherubic didn’t even come close to describing them and when the piano started playing and the little kids opened their mouths to sing, the whole congregation sighed collectively. They did the sweetest rendition of Silent Night and then everybody joined in for the next few carols.

  Lauren found her mood lifting slightly as she sang along to The First Noel and Good King Wenceslas. It was hard to hold onto glum thoughts while singing Christmas carols—but even harder when the old dears beside her were clearly enjoying themselves too.

  ‘I’m sure you’re all eager to get out there and look at all the magnificent lights,’ said the minister from up the front at the pulpit, ‘so I promise my Christmas message will be a quick one.’

  ‘I see he’s still promising the world,’ Lauren overheard May mutter to Barbara. She chuckled, reckoning half the church and maybe the minister would have heard as well. But that was the beauty of being old; you got away with saying what everyone else was thinking but didn’t dare say.

  Perhaps he heeded May’s words, for his sermon lasted barely ten minutes. He spoke about their town being a place of hope like its name, and the celebration of Jesus’ birth bringing hope to an often sad and devastated world. When he encouraged his listeners to think about what they could do for others this Christmas and to rejoice in what they had, rather than dwell on what they did not, Lauren felt like he was speaking directly to her.