Then, through the sudden blurriness in her eyes, she saw the last, best surprise.
Out from the bathroom came Jenny and her son, Nathan, in his wheelchair, his head resting back against the lambswool cover behind him, and wearing a huge smile. Behind them was Jenny and Lincoln’s mother, Katherine. Elsa’s ex-daughter-in-law had been more of a daughter to her than Tom had been a son.
Elsa began to cry.
They all rushed at her, shushing and clucking. Sarah quietly brought over a cup of tea on a matching saucer and placed it in Elsa’s hands. All the while Elsa stared in disbelief at the three from north Queensland.
‘How did you all get here?’ she asked shakily.
Jenny smiled and shrugged as if it had been no big deal, but of course it would have been a major logistical feat with Nathan in his chair. ‘I stayed on to do the makeover with Lincoln, which we did over the past few days, and Mum and Nathan wanted to see you too, so they hopped on a plane and arrived this morning.’
Katherine gave Elsa a hug, careful not to knock the tea, and Elsa leaned into her round, squishy body. It was tiring being the mother all the time, and it was such a joy to be held and rocked by another.
‘I should have come much sooner,’ Katherine said plainly.
‘No, no. You have Jenny and Nathan to look after,’ Elsa said. She reached out to Nathan as their wheelchairs met. She was pierced with sadness for him. He was far too young to be in one of these contraptions. ‘And how are you?’ she said to him.
‘I like flying,’ he said, and jerked his skinny arms out to the sides to pretend to fly.
‘Maybe you could be a pilot,’ Elsa said. ‘I’ll send you some books on planes.’
It was incredible that Nathan was here now. She’d hardly seen him since he and Jenny left Tasmania. And seeing him made her that much happier that she’d instructed the solicitor to draw up the papers as she had, with all of her estate going into trust for Nathan’s care. She patted him on the knee, and he laughed as Caesar came to lick his hand.
Someone had turned on some music, some kind of happy big band song, and Sarah was cutting a lemon meringue pie—Elsa’s favourite—and passing around plates.
‘We all want you to know how much we love you,’ Lincoln said.
‘And Tom’s a fool,’ Katherine said, shaking her head.
‘He lacks foresight,’ Elsa agreed, her strength returning a little. ‘But I feel I know him better now, after all this. And myself, too. Perhaps there’s some good to come out of it after all.’
‘That’s generous of you,’ Katherine said, accepting a slice of pie. ‘You were the one I was most heartbroken about leaving at the end of the marriage. I’m so glad we’ve stayed in touch.’
‘Speaking of which,’ Lincoln said, checking the time on his phone, ‘Uncle Jake and his family will be calling soon on Skype. They stayed up late in London to join the party. We’d better get you over to the computer and logged on.’
He wheeled her over to the workstation and showed her where all the bits and pieces were on the new machine, though he needn’t have bothered. She was quite technically proficient, but he was clearly feeling good about helping so she didn’t interrupt, just busied herself sipping on her tea. Good old Sarah. She knew exactly how she liked it, strong and hot.
Someone popped a champagne cork—goodness, this was a real party—and Caesar chased it across the room.
Then she noticed that amid all the clamour Lincoln had gone quiet and was staring at the floor. ‘What’s up, my boy?’
He inhaled, struggling with whatever it was he wanted to say. ‘I want you to know that I thought very hard about the idea of taking you home to your place and being your carer.’
‘Oh, no, no!’ She waved him away. ‘You can’t!’
‘And I agree with you. It wouldn’t work.’
Even though Elsa knew it was true and right, there was still a burst of disappointment inside her. This was absolutely her life now, for good.
‘But I promise you this. I will make your life so much better than it’s been lately, and together we will squeeze every last bit of fun out of this world that we can.’ His voice was determined and uncompromising.
‘Okay,’ she said quietly.
He kissed her on the forehead just as a noise started up on the computer, signalling that Jake was calling, and Elsa plastered a smile on her face and clicked the accept button. She had a lot to tell Jake, and then she had a party to get on with. After all, this was the first day of the rest of her life.
•
Christmas had a lot to do on her day off to help Val get organised for the wedding, but of course she’d made time for Lincoln. She ushered him in, jittery with nerves, and sat opposite him at the long table. He was friendly, but looked guarded, which she could understand, and it only made her more eager to get in with what she needed to tell him. So when he put the manuscript on the table and began to speak she quickly interrupted him.
‘I need to say something first,’ she said, smiling, but below the table her hands gripped the material of her trousers.
‘Sure,’ he said, leaning back.
She took a moment to take him in, his endless blue eyes, his dark hair, his lips. That body beneath his clothes that she’d savoured and wanted to hold onto for the rest of her life.
‘I’m sorry,’ she began. ‘For losing the plot the way I did at the chateau. It was a bit over the top. I was shocked. And spun out. And I just needed some time to process all of that.’
‘It’s completely understandable,’ he said, earnestly. ‘I totally screwed up by forgetting the information about your father. And as for Emily . . .’
Christmas flinched.
‘I shouldn’t have started anything with her. It was easy to ask her out but only because I knew I wasn’t going to fall for her. And I sound like a right bastard for saying that, but it’s true. I didn’t have any real feelings for her, not like I did for you. You knocked it out of the park.’
Christmas was almost afraid to breathe.
‘My nan told me I’m lazy, and I think she’s right. You might have pushed me away—twice—but I shouldn’t have let you, either time. I should have come back and knocked down your door and told you I loved you.’
A shaky breath hiccupped through Christmas’s chest. She reached across the table and took his hand. It was strong and warm and she adored it.
‘I love you,’ she said firmly, decisively. ‘And I don’t want to waste another moment with either of us being stupid or overreacting. I can’t wait to take you to the wedding tomorrow and start a whole new adventure with you.’
But then she noticed that instead of looking joyous, the way she felt inside, Lincoln looked distressed. ‘What’s the matter?’
He cleared his throat, and her heart turned cold.
‘I’ve been offered another job,’ he said.
‘Where?’
‘Back in Ecuador, pretty much doing the same thing I was doing before, except I’ll be a team leader this time, with more responsibility, more money, more freedom. They didn’t give me much time to think about it, and they need me there quickly.’
‘You’re leaving?’ She pulled her hand away and pressed the heels of her palms against her eyes, wanting to block out the world and the words he was about to say.
‘Tomorrow. For six months, maybe a year.’
She dropped her hands and stared at him, and her eyes filled with tears. ‘No. No, please don’t go. We’ve only just started. We’ve got something special here and we can’t lose it now.’ Christmas pulled herself up. That kind of emotional outburst wasn’t like her, but she’d built this moment up so much in her mind and she’d prepared herself and her words over and over, and played out various scenarios of how he might react. Emily had convinced her this was a love that was meant to be, that it was destiny. She’d never imagined the news he’d just shared. The words were out before she could think twice.
‘I agree that this has been unexpected and wo
nderful, and more real than anything I’ve ever felt before,’ he said.
‘Then don’t go.’
‘But this is what I do,’ he said. ‘This is who I am.’
Christmas knew then that there was no point in trying to change his mind. She’d known this about Lincoln. He’d told her from the start that he loved living his life on a whim and moving around as jobs came up, taking new experiences as they eventuated with no guarantees. And she’d built a life and career here, one that was just gathering momentum and moving into exciting new fields. Her family was here. Her life was here.
She stood up and folded her arms across her chest. ‘I understand,’ she said.
Lincoln looked pained. But it obviously wasn’t enough pain to make him change his mind.
‘You should go,’ she said. ‘I’m sure you’ve got a lot to do and you’ll want to spend some time with Elsa before you go.’
‘Yes.’ He looked genuinely stricken about leaving Elsa. ‘I haven’t told her yet.’
‘What about Caesar?’ she said.
‘I’m going to ask the nurse, Sarah, if she’ll take him.’ He grimaced. ‘I’m actually really going to miss him.’ He pushed the manuscript across the table. ‘Can we can talk about the book via email?’
‘Of course.’
He swung his legs over the bench seat and stood up, facing her, rubbing his hands together as though he didn’t know what to do with them. She stared at the ground.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said.
She lifted her chin and looked him straight in the eye. ‘I’ll be fine.’
It would be a bigger heartbreak than she’d ever had before. And she would cry, probably for a long time. And she would feel sad, maybe for a lot longer than that. But she knew without doubt that she would be just fine because she was a different person now and she’d learned how to be happy. She’d learned how to be resilient. And she had Val and the boys, and Joseph, Emily, Cheyenne, Rosemary, Tu and Lien, all of them a piece of the happiness puzzle.
‘Thank you,’ he said. ‘For everything. I’ll miss you.’
‘I’ll miss you too.’
And he was gone.
•
Emily was in the bath, shaving her legs and giving herself a pedicure for the wedding tomorrow, when her mobile phone rang, lying on the edge of the basin. She leaned out, dropping frothy bubbles on the floor. It was Christmas. And for some reason she had a feeling it wasn’t good news.
‘What’s happened?’ she said, sinking back into the water.
On the other end, Christmas was sobbing. ‘It’s over,’ she managed to get out.
‘What’s over, what do you mean?’
‘Lincoln . . . he’s leaving!’ And then she wailed and sobbed for so long that Emily told her to wait right there, she was coming straight over—because that was the job of the best friend.
28
The Leaning Church Vineyard was a twenty-minute drive out of Launceston, and resided in an elevated position about the town of Lalla, in the Tamar Valley wine route. The wedding cars were provided by one of Archie’s motoring enthusiast friends. Archie drove himself and the three boys in a black 1930s Ford soft-top. When they reached the church at the back of the vineyard, their job was to light the tea lights inside twenty rice-paper lanterns that lined the aisle of the church. This would serve as the signal for all the guests to take their seats, and the boys would have their moment walking down the aisle. Christmas had kissed Archie’s hairy cheek at home before the men left and thought he looked like a finely groomed shaggy dog, the fur of his paws just visible below the cuffs of his white suit. Willis, Nate and Braxton were all miniature copies of their dad, minus the excess hair—although that would likely only be a matter of time.
The bridal party—Val, Christmas, Darla and Joseph—followed in a teal Austin with white ribbons at the front and red leather seats. Joseph was at the wheel, Darla beside him, evidently working hard to keep her criticisms of his driving to a minimum, and the sisters sat in the back seat, holding hands, giggling, and inhaling the delicately scented white freesias in their laps. Cheyenne had dropped off the stunning bouquets that morning.
‘Look at those clouds,’ Val said, her eyes lit up as she checked the sky.
The weather was probably not what many brides would want for their wedding day but Christmas agreed that it was charming. The fat, low-hanging dark clouds surrounded the entourage and seemed to magnify the expectation in the air. Weak sunlight filtered through floating mist and intensified the green of the hills, giving everything an enchanted feel. It was perfectly quiet—a natural cathedral. The long dirt road to the church wound up and down and round, tall gum trees lining the edges, and the car bumped gently along past goats, grape vines and wizened houses with smoke pumping from chimneys.
Joseph pulled the car to a stop in front of the weatherboard church, and a few stragglers—a mother chasing a toddler in a pink tutu, one of Archie’s pimply-faced apprentices smoking a cigarette, and an elderly woman on a mobile phone—all hurried inside. Christmas stepped out of the car in her sleeveless mint-green satin and ivory tulle and lace dress, shivering slightly in the cold and carrying her bridesmaid’s bouquet. It was impossible not to feel happy in this moment, despite everything that had happened with Lincoln.
Darla opened her door and Christmas went to help her out.
‘I’m not an old woman, Christmas,’ she grumbled, but she allowed her arm to be taken and didn’t pull away once she was on her feet.
‘I know you’re not,’ Christmas said. ‘But it’s my prerogative as your daughter to be kind to you.’ Darla looked a little startled, but Christmas just wrapped her in a hug before she could respond.
Her mother was flawed. Christmas had always known that, and now she realised that it was unfair, perhaps even cruel, to expect her to be anything other than what she was. She had to stop blaming her for not knowing more about Gregoire. It was what it was. No one could turn back the clock, change the past. It was simply time to move on.
Joseph opened Val’s door and took her hand as she inched out. From across the roof of the Austin, Christmas could see the strong emotion he struggled to suppress. Her own nose began to tingle, heralding tears, but she forced them away.
Val’s peacock-blue duchess satin floor-length dress made her look like Audrey Hepburn, and the peacock feather pinned at her crown added a regal touch. She might have had rouge on her cheeks but she didn’t need it; she was as radiant as any young bride could be. She adjusted the material around her waist, positioned the freesias in her arm and turned her eyes questioningly to Christmas and Darla.
‘You look gorgeous,’ Christmas said.
Darla nodded. ‘Yes,’ she agreed, ‘you’re a vision.’
‘Thanks, Mum,’ Val said. ‘I’m really glad you’re here.’ She squeezed Darla’s hand and her mother pulled her in for a last embrace before the walk down the aisle.
Then it started to rain, lightly at first as they made their way up the petal-covered footpath, and more heavily by the time they reached the rose-covered walkway leading up to the church entrance. The lanterns cast flickering lights against the church windows, and the sound of relaxed jazz piano music floated from inside. By the time they got to the arched doorway, the rain was pelting down, hammering the roof and ground, loud enough to muffle the music. Far from being upset by this, Val glowed with pleasure.
The four of them walked between rows of pews filled with smiling people. They passed Emily, sitting on the end of the fourth row from the front, wearing a festive hat of Australian leaves and gumnuts, and Christmas gave her a grateful smile for all her support, especially yesterday when it had felt as though her heart was tearing in two. Emily beamed back and gave them a little wave. In the front row were Val’s other half-siblings, Paula and Sacha, and their mother, Gloria, holding up cameras and wearing a buttonhole and corsages that matched Val’s flowers.
By the time they reached the groom’s party standing with the celebrant, the noi
se of the rain was deafening. Val kissed her three sons and handed her flowers to Darla, who stood close by with Christmas at her side. Joseph stood next to his ex-wife and put his arm around her shoulders as her bottom lip began to quiver. Val faced Archie and took his hands. The celebrant tried to welcome everyone but she couldn’t be heard over the noise. Everyone laughed and for a few moments there was nothing but the sound of water drops hitting the roof. The reverie was only broken by a hiccupping, hee-hawing, blubbering noise that turned out to be issuing from the hairy man holding onto Val’s hands at the front of the church, hands he would promise never to let go, just as soon as his words could be heard over the rain.
The reception was supposed to be a garden tea party affair in Val and Archie’s backyard but the relentless rain made it impossible, so the whole thing was moved inside with an air of jovial chaos. Old jam jars holding candles were scattered throughout the house. Petals were sprinkled over tables. Bath towels were laid down in doorways and hallways to mop up excess water and mud. Body heat steamed up the windows. Braxton brought out his dinosaurs to decorate cheese platters, Nate put on an apron and set himself up in the kitchen to help make the food, and Willis fulfilled the role of runner, ducking and weaving through the crowd with ice, drinks, music and trays of canapés.
‘Are you disappointed we can’t do this outside?’ Christmas asked Val as they were pressed into the corner of the kitchen by a mass of people moving through to the dining room.
‘Not really. This is life. You can’t plan it.’ Val moved off happily to speak to an old school friend.
Emily approached her then, a drink in hand.
‘Where’s your hat gone?’ Christmas said.
‘I had to take it off because I kept knocking it on doorways and things. I think Braxton is using it as a bush setting for a dinosaur role play.’
They both watched the scene playing out around them, ties being loosened, shoes flung into corners, plastic cups overflowing with bubbles, groups posing cheek to cheek for informal photographs, smartphones being tapped and shared, laughter, chatting, the inevitable awkward guy in the corner with his arms crossed, and the bored and likely deaf grandmother ensconced in an armchair waiting for someone to bring her a plate.
The Chocolate Promise Page 32
