by Elle Thorpe
Low turned the car off, but neither of us made a move to get out. We just sat in the early morning silence. The rising sun backlit the house, forcing us to squint.
“It’s early, maybe we should have stopped and waited for a more decent hour.”
“They’re farm people. They don’t get up by dawn?” Low questioned.
I sighed. “Yes. They’ll be up.”
“Time to rip the Band-Aid off then, Reese.” He opened his door and slid out, taking a moment to stretch before he walked around the hood to my door. He held his hand out to help me down, and I accepted it because my legs suddenly felt like they wouldn’t hold my weight. Low’s hand slid to the small of my back, and I tried to ignore the way my skin tingled under his touch. Even through the fabric of my shirt, my body reacted to him.
“I’ll be right beside you the whole time.”
He threaded his fingers through mine and we walked side by side to the front door. My fingers trailed over the back of the child-sized wheelchair, and my eyes misted with tears. I blinked them back. I couldn’t cry before we’d even begun.
My knocks on the door were feeble at best. But Low squeezed my hand and I mustered the courage to knock again, louder this time. My breath caught in my throat as the lock on the door turned. The door swung open, and my sister’s dark eyes and hair, tousled with sleep, appeared in front of me. She looked even tinier than she had from across the shopping centre food court, her small frame tucked into her wheelchair. Her eyes grew big as she took me in.
“Reese?”
Then she squealed in excitement. “Reese!” She gave her wheels one hard push, which sent her careening straight into my legs. Her thin arms wrapped around my waist tightly. “Oh my God! I can’t believe you’re here!” Her face was pressed to my belly, muffling her voice. The mist I’d been trying to keep out of my eyes overcame me, and this time, it wasn’t just mist. My eyes filled with tears and I let them spill down my cheeks as I cradled her head. I wove my fingers into her dark strands and held her tight. I hadn’t expected her to open the door, but I was so grateful she had. I knew she wouldn’t blame me for the accident. She was a kid. They were forgiving by nature. Especially Gemma. But if my parents, my dad in particular, wouldn’t let me see her again, well, at least I had this. At least I’d had a few stolen moments with her. And that was worth driving to the ends of the earth for.
“Gemma, who is it, sweetheart?” My mother’s voice called from the back end of the house, shaking me into action.
I pulled out of Gemma’s embrace and knelt down in front of her, so our faces were at the same level. I wrapped my arms around her, in a proper hug, and when I let go, I took her face in my hands and stared at her million-dollar grin.
“You’re back,” she said simply.
I nodded, and over her shoulder I saw my mother walk into the room. She dropped the dish towel she’d been holding when she saw me. She didn’t say anything, though, and I chose to ignore her for the moment and focus on Gemma.
“Gemma, listen, I don’t know how much time I’ll get, so I need to say this quickly. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry for the accident and for not being here ever since. I hate myself for all of it, and I completely understand if you hate me too. But I really hope you don’t. Because I love you and I miss you like crazy.”
Gemma’s brow furrowed. “I don’t hate you. Why would I?” She glanced over her shoulder at our mother before looking back up at me. “I don’t understand.”
I looked over at my mother and she shook her head slightly as she came forward. Hadn’t my parents told her what had happened? She paused behind Gemma’s wheelchair as I stared at her, not knowing what to say. Why hadn’t they told her what happened? The planes of my mother’s face were so familiar. She didn’t look any different from the last time I’d been in this house. She was a stunning woman, only a few strands of grey hair giving away she was approaching fifty. My sister and I got our dark colouring from her.
“Reese,” she said, still hovering behind Gemma. “I…your father…”
My heart sank. And suddenly her face changed, a look of determination crossing her features. She grabbed the handle of Gemma’s chair and yanked her away from me.
The oxygen in my lungs went with her. This had been a mistake. She didn’t want Gemma touching me and I was seconds away from having the door slam in my face, leaving me standing out on the step like a salesman who’d tried to sell her something unwanted. She pushed Gemma and her protests behind her, blocking her from my view. I closed my eyes, not wanting to watch my mother shut me out yet again and waited for the slam.
When it didn’t come, I opened my eyes. We were almost identical heights and builds, so there was nowhere to look but into her eyes. I racked my brain for the right thing to say, something that would make her understand how sorry I was and how much I missed her. But the truth was, I’d said it all before. I’d said it the day of the accident when I’d sat sobbing on the hospital floor. I was saying it again, by standing here on her doorstep. The ball was in her court. Even Gemma had gone quiet in the midst of the stand-off between us.
But then my mother took a step forward and her soft arms wrapped around me, engulfing me in her embrace. And I let her, because in that moment I felt the pain within her, a mirror of my own. The familiar smell of the perfume she’d worn every day for as long as I could remember wafted over me. A noise came from her throat that was something between a gasp and sob, and a tremor that rocked her whole body followed. She buried her face in my shoulder as the sobs overcame her, and I found myself rubbing her back unconsciously as she cried on my shoulder, my own tears dripping down my face.
“Shhh, Mum. It’s okay,” I murmured over and over as her shoulders shook and she clutched me in a vice like grip, as if she were afraid I might disappear again. Gemma looked on quietly from her chair but didn’t say anything as my mother pulled me tighter. I’d missed her hugs and her touch. I’d missed this house and the fresh air. I’d missed the love I’d gotten here.
“I’m so sorry,” I mumbled, not knowing what else to say. What I’d done was so huge, words couldn’t fix it. All I could do was ask for forgiveness. The tears coursed down my cheeks as my hand continued to rub circles on her back.
Eventually she pulled back and looked at me with her tear-stained face. She held me tightly by the shoulders and shook me a little to get my full attention. “You have nothing to apologise for, Reese. It’s me who made a huge mistake. It’s me who needs to apologise.”
I shook my head. “No, Mum, I—”
“Stop. I should have never let you walk out of that hospital. Not the way you did. That wasn’t right. You were a child. I was the parent. All I can say in my defence is that I was in shock and not thinking straight. I couldn’t think of anyone but Gemma until I knew whether she was going to live or die. But it’s not a good excuse.”
“It is. It’s fine. It wasn’t your fault—”
“You’re right, Reese. It wasn’t her fault. It was mine,” a deep voice said behind me.
I whipped around. My dad stood behind Low, his broad shoulders in a khaki work shirt, his ever-present Stetson perched on his head. His eyes bore through me, as if Low wasn’t even there, and Low discreetly moved to the side. Dad ignored him as he inched closer to me, occupying the space Low had just vacated.
“We’ve been worried sick about you. I tried to ring you, over and over until we found your phone in a drawer in your bedroom and realised you hadn’t taken it with you. We tried all your friends, but no one had heard from you. And then I got a phone call a few months back, and I thought it was you, but you would never answer when I called, and you never called again. We just hired a private investigator in the city to look for you.” He took a deep breath, the lines around his eyes and mouth deep crevices. Unlike my mother, up close, I realised he’d aged since I’d last seen him. Was it the stress I’d caused? Or his own guilt over why I’d left?
Words stuck in my throat. I’d come here expecting to fi
ght. Fight to see my sister and to fight for their trust again. I hadn’t expected apologies, and I had no idea what to do with them.
“I…I behaved terribly. The things I said to you…” He coughed and looked down at the scuffed wood of the landing. “Well, I’m ashamed of what I said. Gemma’s accident was just that. An accident. What I said was just in the heat of the moment. I never meant it. It took me a few days to realise that, and I’m so sorry, sweetheart. There’s been a hole in this family ever since you left. I never wanted that. I never wanted you to go…”
I’d heard enough. I closed the gap between us in a quick movement and stepped close into him. His arms wrapped around me and he squeezed me so tight I thought I’d pass out from lack of oxygen. “Thank you,” I whispered in his ear.
He pulled back enough to look at me. “For what?”
“For all of it. I know that couldn’t have been easy for you to say. And for what it’s worth, I’m sorry too.”
He shook his head. “What’s harder was living the last year without seeing you. Without knowing if you were even okay. I know you’re an adult, but you’re still our baby. You always will be, no matter what you do.”
I buried my face in his broad chest and let another round of tears fall from my eyes. His shirt smelled of straw and dirt, but I didn’t mind at all. He smelled of comfort. Of home. Of love.
From behind me, Low sneezed. Loudly. All four of us turned to look at him.
He shrugged. “Sorry, I’ve been trying to hold that in, to let you all have your moment. I’m Low.”
Gemma snorted with laughter as Low offered my father his hand to shake. I stepped out of my dad’s arms and into Low’s, wrapping my arm around his waist.
“Thank you, too,” I said quietly.
He nodded. He knew what I was thanking him for without me saying it. I would have come back eventually, without his prodding. Or maybe they would have found me. But he’d made it happen sooner, and after wasting a year, wasting any more time would have been heartbreaking.
“Have you two eaten? Gemma and I were just making breakfast if you’re interested.”
“I’m interested,” Low said cheerfully.
I smiled up at him happily. “So am I.”
35
Reese
Low was dead on his feet by the time I showed him up the stairs and into my old bedroom. He sank into the mattress without even bothering to take his shoes off and was asleep before I’d shut the door behind me.
I wasn’t tired after sleeping all night in the car. I walked around the quiet house, running my fingers over familiar objects and staring at the old family photos on the walls of the hallway. I called Bianca and filled her in on everything that had happened and asked her to let the guys know Low was back.
My father’s students arrived for their lessons and made their way to the stable to saddle up their horses. They made me smile. My father had gotten busy while I’d been away. He would have never been able to run a class on a Tuesday morning a few years ago, and it made me happy. He deserved the success.
In the afternoon, Mum drove the van to the top of the driveway to wait for Gemma’s school bus and when they returned, the three of us crowded into the little kitchen and got busy preparing dinner. For an hour, I could pretend nothing had happened between us. We’d made dinner together like this a million times before, and the conversation and laughter flowed.
A little more of the black cloud that had been hovering around me since the accident lifted, relief settling in its place. Bianca had been right about Gemma. She was happy. She was a pro with her wheelchair, manoeuvring herself around easily and chopping veggies behind the kitchen table, which was an easier height for her to manage. She laughed and smiled and chattered happily about school, and her friends and catching the bus home with the Ryker brothers that lived on the next property.
We had potatoes and a roast in the oven when Low appeared at the top of the stairs, rubbing his eyes and looking adorably sleep-tousled. My mouth dried watching him stretch, his shirt riding up and revealing the lower planes of his hard stomach. My mother gave me a knowing look and I rolled my eyes. But I couldn’t help grinning.
“Is there anything I can help with?” Low asked as he came and sat at the table with Gemma. She gave him a grin, passing him a knife and some of her assigned vegetables to chop. He pulled them across the table and picked up the knife with an air of expertise. He smiled when he caught me watching him, his knife moving rapidly across the chopping board. “I did a few months in the racetrack kitchens before I started in the bar,” he said by way of explaining the stack of perfectly julienned carrots in front of him.
“I’m impressed.”
My dad walked in just after six, while the four of us were playing cards around the kitchen table, the delicious smell of roast meat wafting around us. He leant on the doorjamb and paused for a moment before he stood behind Gemma and dropped a kiss on her head. He did the same with my mother, and then on mine.
“So, is Low your boyfriend, Reese?” Gemma asked as we placed plates of food on the table.
I glanced over at Low, unable to help the grin that spread across my face. “Yep, he is.”
“And is Low a real name?”
I laughed and my mother shushed her. My father looked like he was interested in the answer, but he had better manners.
“How’s uni?” Dad asked instead, his forkful of beef hovering in front of his mouth. “You should be nearly finished, right?”
I shook my head. “No, I dropped out when everything happened. I’ve only just re-enrolled, so I’m a year behind.”
Dad frowned, but Low stopped eating and grinned. “You have?”
I nodded.
He kissed me on the cheek. “You’re amazing.”
“Not really. But I figured I couldn’t work at your bar for the rest of my life.”
“You own a bar, Low?” my mother asked.
“His family owns a racetrack,” I answered for him.
My father raised an eyebrow. “Which one?”
“Lavender Fields.”
Dad whistled long and low. “I know that place. That’s an impressive family business you have there.”
“Thank you. My grandparents have worked very hard for it.”
“I’ll bet. And what do you do there?”
“Dad, can you stop with the third degree, please?” I groaned. He seemed to have forgotten I hadn’t lived with him for over a year now and was quite capable of vetting my own men. “Low does a bit of everything. He’s working his way around each department at the racetrack, getting to know the business from the ground up.”
Dad nodded. “That’s admirable.”
I breathed a little easier. I didn’t want Dad getting the idea that Low was some spoilt rich brat, when the truth was he’d had to fight tooth and nail since he was a kid, just to survive.
Low squeezed my knee under the table and let his hand linger there, his thumb tracing patterns on my leg, until his touch was all I could concentrate on.
When I looked back up from my Low induced haze, Mum was watching us, a small smile lifting the corners of her mouth. The room had grown dim while we’d been eating and she glanced at the clock before announcing it was time for Gemma to do her homework and get ready for bed. She stood, resting her hands on the back of Gemma’s wheelchair, and threw my father a look. He hastily stood up and excused himself, stating he had paperwork to do. Gemma protested, but my mother wheeled her to her bedroom on the ground floor anyway, leaving Low and me in the quiet kitchen.
“Want to come for a walk?”
He brushed his lips across mine. “First chance all day to be alone with you…what do you think?”
I laughed and stood, pulling him up by his hand, our chairs scraping on the tiled floor. His hand rested on the small of my back. The cool night air drifted over me as I descended the newly installed ramp and stepped onto the grass. I paused, waiting for him at the bottom, and when he caught up, I slid my fingers
between his.
The inky black sky above us was lit with thousands of visible stars, and I tilted my head back, taking it in. “I’ve missed this.”
“Mmm. So different from the city sky.”
I nodded, enjoying the silence, only interrupted by the slight wind in the trees and the buzzing drone of cicadas. It was dark beyond the pool of light spilling from the house, but the moon did its job and my steps were sure as I led Low through the night. The barn was a few hundred metres from the house, but I’d walked the path thousands of times over the years.
We stopped just outside and watched the dark silhouettes of horses moving in the paddock. Low fitted himself to my back, locking his arms beneath my breasts and dropping his mouth to the side of my neck. He kissed me gently.
“I think I’m going to take the foal.”
“The one your grandparents wanted you to have?” I smiled into the darkness. “That’s fantastic. He’s a beauty.”
“So are you.”
I closed my eyes, letting the back of my head rest against his chest, enjoying the way being in his presence made me feel.
“Are we okay?” he murmured, his mouth moving up my neck, trailing kisses to the sensitive spot behind my ear. His lips sent shivers down my spine, and my heart rate thumped double time as I considered his question.
I turned so we were face-to-face and slid my hands behind his back, tucking my fingers into the back pocket of his jeans. I breathed in his scent and tried not to remember how bleak the weeks without him had been. I’d gone through the motions of work and kept myself busy researching my uni options. But it had all been with a Low-shaped hole in my heart. I’d willed my phone to ring, but every time it had, it wasn’t him. My throat felt thick, as if the words were stuck. “I just wish we hadn’t lost all this time.” I sniffed. “God, I missed you.”
He tightened his arms around me. “I’m so sorry, baby. But the things that were going through my head...it was just so full of HIV and what that meant for me and for the future. And then there was you.” He pulled back, ducking his head a little so he was closer to my eye level. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”
