“Doesn’t sound like no one.”
“Well, he’s a client now anyway,” I said firmly.
“That’s a shame, by the sounds of it. I can highly recommend men who use their hands for a living.”
Heath reddened and Susie grinned shamelessly. “What?”
“You’re talking to my little sister,” Heath complained.
“Who isn’t little anymore.” Susie picked up the dishes that held a selection of crackers, dip and fruit, and came around to join us.
“Yay!” The girls pounced on the food.
“Cwacker, Auntie Cate?” Millie asked through an impossibly big mouthful. Without waiting for an answer, she grabbed a cracker and dunked it a little too readily into the French Onion dip and held it out for me.
I leapt out of my chair to grab it before the dip ended up on the floor.
Susie waved a hand at me. “Don’t panic. There’s a very strategic reason we don’t have any carpet down here and you’re sitting on a leather sofa.”
“Thank you, Millie.” I carefully took the cracker from her marker stained four-year-old fingers.
We settled into a comfortable silence while the girls devoured their food and the adults munched more politely on the crackers. The girls had grown since I’d seen them. How long had that been? Four, maybe five months?
“Jaimie’s so grown up now,” I said to Susie, who had come to sit beside me on the sofa.
At the sound of her name, Jaimie looked up and grinned. I grinned back.
“I know. She’ll be nine early next year,” Susie replied.
“Will you fly up for my birthday, Auntie Cate?” I didn’t miss the pleading tone or the eager look in Jaimie’s green eyes. She was the spitting image of Susie, with the same eyes and dark hair, which she’d let grow to her waist.
“I wouldn’t miss it,” I assured her. “Will you send me a party invitation?”
“You bet!”
“And me! Me too! You’ll come for my birthday too won’t you, Auntie Cate?” I’d never figured out how Millie could be sitting and jumping up and down at the same time. Possibly because the child was permanently sprung.
“I’ll be there,” I promised. “But you’ll be starting big school before then, won’t you?”
“Yep! Do you want to see my school uniform?”
“In a minute, Millie. Let Cate eat her snacks, then you can show her,” Susie suggested.
“I know! I’ll go to my room and put my school dress on now. Then I’ll be ready for you once you’ve finished your snacks.” She shot off in the direction of her bedroom.
Susie looked at her eldest daughter. “Would you mind helping her, sweetheart?”
Jaimie rolled her eyes and sighed. “Alright.” Then she gave me a serious look. “Last time she put on her uniform she wore it for half an hour before she realized it was on backwards.”
I bit back a smile and nodded with equal seriousness. Jaimie stood up and went to join her sister.
“Can you believe they’ll both be at school next year?” I asked my brother and Susie.
“I’m somewhere between relieved and sad,” Susie told me. “Heath’s just in denial.”
“They’ll always be your little girls,” I reminded Heath.
Susie grinned wickedly. “Even when they start dating.”
Heath grimaced. “I think I need another beer. Anyone else?”
We shook our heads and watched him disappear down the hallway toward the garage where he kept the beer fridge.
“Sooo. The nice plumber. Spill.”
“You’re as bad as my girlfriends,” I muttered.
“Which means there’s something to spill,” Susie deduced far too accurately.
“There’s nothing to tell, really. He’s … distracting, but now he’s a client, so that’s that.”
Susie pouted. “You’re no fun.”
“He’s not my type anyway.”
“Ah. A list. I get it.”
I gaped at her.
“What?”
“How do you know about the list?”
“You’re an accountant, Cate, and the last serious boyfriend you had was at university.” At my look of disapproval, Susie frowned. “I know you’ve dated since then, and there was that disastrous relationship with your boss last year – that doesn’t count.”
I narrowed my eyes at her. “You promise you haven’t been talking to my girlfriends?”
She laughed. “No. But it sounds like I should be.”
Depressed that I was that transparent, I loaded up another cracker with enough dip to rival Millie’s earlier offering.
Susie reached over and put her hand on my arm. “I’m not making fun of you, Cate. You’re my favorite sister-in-law, you know that.”
I choked on my cracker.
“Sorry, poor choice of words considering the twins, so let me rephrase that. You’re more than my sister-in-law, you’re my friend too.”
I softened. I loved how upfront this woman was. I didn’t keep in touch with my older twin sisters, Taylor and Michelle, and Susie had only met them once. She claimed that once was enough. They still lived in our hometown, on government support, and were probably up to ten children between them. I pushed the thought of my vicious, gossiping sisters out of my mind.
“You’re my friend too. And I promise you, I’m easing up on the list, OK? I know I have to be open-minded.”
“Good. I get that it’s hard after an upbringing like yours. You didn’t exactly have a great example of what constitutes a loving adult relationship, did you?”
“No. But mum died so young, I don’t really remember their relationship. Heath recalls a lot more than I do.”
Susie nodded. “Losing her was hard for him. Despite everything, she sounded like a good woman.”
‘Despite everything’ was being generous. The hazy memories I had of the woman with long blonde hair and pale skin were tinged with sadness. She’d been gentle and caring, but far too often distant or non-responsive. It was only when I was older I understood the distance was due to her alcoholism. She’d chosen to do her hard drinking away from home to spare us the worst, but her addiction had still claimed her in the end. When I was Millie’s age she’d hit a tree while driving home from one of those drinking binges.
“I think she had the potential to be a good woman,” I said carefully.
Susie dropped her hand, sadness etched in the fine lines on her forehead. “I don’t think she drank as much when Heath was little.”
Heath was eight years older than me and it was probably true. “Five kids and my father didn’t help. Dad was a hard man.” I was aware I was speaking about him in the past tense, but it seemed apt given I hadn’t spoken to him in over a decade.
“I often think that you got the worst deal as the youngest.”
“It wasn’t that.” I picked at some invisible crumbs on my jeans. “It was because I’m so much like her.”
“Your mum?”
“Yes. I look a lot like her.”
Susie nodded. “Heath mentioned your dad dealt with his grief poorly.”
“He took it out on me. Sometimes when he was really drunk I think he actually thought I was her.” Susie appeared upset by my revelation so I reached over and patted her arm. “It’s OK. I’m fine. The truth is even before Mum’s death, he wasn’t a nice man. I don’t have any fond memories of him.”
“Not one?”
“None that I can remember.”
“Oh Cate, I’m so sorry.”
I shrugged, but the movement felt tight. “Heath still keeps in touch with them, doesn’t he?” I was at peace with my decision not to have anything to do with my family, but it didn’t stop me wondering from time to time.
Susie’s expression darkened, and she reached for a cracker.
“What? It’s not like my family can get any worse,” I half-joked.
“It’s not that,” Susie said after she’d swallowed her mouthful.
“It’s not what?”
Heath asked. He was standing in the doorway and holding a bottle of beer.
Susie looked between the two of us, her gaze settling on her husband. “Cate was just asking if you’d been in touch with your family lately.”
That same dark look crossed my brother’s features, and he came to sit on the other side of me.
“Dad’s sick.”
“Oh.”
We were quiet for a while, and I could hear squeals and bursts of high-pitched laughter coming from the girls’ rooms. It sounded like Jaimie was tickling Millie.
“Cate?” Heath asked.
“Yes?”
“Do you want me to tell you about it?”
I stared at my hands in my lap. “Just the basics,” I said eventually.
“He’s got lung cancer.”
Considering when I knew him he’d spent a great deal of the little money he had on cigarettes, it wasn’t exactly a surprise.
“He’s refused treatment.”
“They were proposing chemotherapy,” Susie said softly.
“Let me guess,” I said, my voice hard. “His decision wasn’t based on the fact he didn’t want to burden the public health system. It’s because he’s too stubborn to quit.”
I looked up to see Susie’s eyes filled with surprise and pity.
“I wasn’t sure I should tell you,” Heath said.
“I’m glad you did.”
“Do you want me to keep you updated?”
“Surely if that’s his decision, the next major news will be his death?”
Heath pushed a hand roughly through his dark, wavy hair. “Yeah. I suppose it might be. But do you want me to tell you?”
“Yes.”
“Alright.”
“Auntie Cate! Auntie Cate! Look at me! Do I look like a big girl?”
I swallowed the hard lump in my throat and attempted to focus on my youngest niece. She was twirling in front of us, showing off her new blue plaid school dress. It was so big the hem of the dress went past her knees, while the bag she was carrying on her back was almost tipping her over.
The lump disappeared at the sight of Millie. My beautiful, precious niece. Heath always told me we looked similar, and for a moment I imagined myself at that age doing the same thing. But, no, that had never happened. My childhood had been devoid of the love and security this house offered. I would have hid the joy of my school things away from my family, for fear of being ridiculed.
“Look at my shoes!”
I blinked and focused on Millie’s shiny shoes. “I see, darling. They’re very pretty.”
Millie scrunched up her nose. “No, silly. They’re black, so they’re not pretty, but everyone else will be wearing them.”
“God help us, they were the prettiest ones we could find. Took hours,” Susie whispered in my ear.
I smiled and twirled my finger. “Show me again?”
Millie grinned and spun around so fast that she collapsed onto the floor, giggling.
“Her poor teacher,” Susie muttered.
“She’s delightful.”
“Tell that to her teacher next year.”
I laughed, Susie’s dry humor and my niece’s giggles catching.
And that was the one and only time we discussed our dying father the entire weekend.
Chapter 11
The background music was too loud. The bass pounded in time to my headache and I longed for the quiet of my apartment.
“Hey,” Christa said, putting two drinks on the table and sitting down beside me. “Are you sure you’re alright? You look beat.”
I replied with a small smile but it probably came out more like a grimace. “I wanted to be here for you.”
“If you’re not well, you can meet the others another time.”
“I’ll be OK. It’s just a tension headache. This will help.” I picked up the glass of full strength Coca Cola and chugged half of it in one go.
“You’re a wild woman, Cate Harmon,” Christa teased.
I didn’t take it personally. She knew the concoction of sugar and caffeine was better for my aching head than a glass of wine.
Christa looked around us. The inner city bar was packed full of workers like us attempting to take the edge off another day at the office. “I’m sorry I chose this place. If I’d known you weren’t feeling well, I would have picked somewhere quieter.”
I waved a hand at her. “Don’t be silly. It’s central for everyone.”
‘Everyone’ was Christa and Max’s bridal party. Tonight was supposed to be our first official meeting, except Maddy had canceled at the last minute due to Ava running a fever. Scarlett was on her way, and Max would be here soon with the three friends he’d asked to form the other half of their bridal party.
“Are you sure everything’s alright? Apart from the headache?” Christa persisted.
That was the downside of living with someone for four years – she knew me too well. “Just work. It’s busy lately.” And I’d been working nights this week trying to put together a plan for Dave. While I could admit some of the extra hours were because I wanted to deliver a plan for him that was exceptional, I knew it was more than that.
“How was the visit to your brother’s?” Christa’s voice cut through my thoughts.
“It was great. My nieces are growing up so much. Millie starts school next year.”
“You wish you were closer.” It wasn’t a question.
“Of course. They’re my family.” I resisted saying ‘only’ family.
“What’s stopping you?”
“You’re trying to get rid of me?” I asked incredulously.
“Of course not,” she said quickly. “But Queensland’s a nice place. I’m sure you could easily get work up there in financial planning.”
“You’re trying to get rid of me!”
“No. I’m really not. I just want you to be happy.”
I looked into her blue eyes, which held a mixture of concern and hope. “Not you too,” I muttered.
“What?” Christa appeared genuinely confused.
“Poor, single Cate. What are we going to do with her?” I took another gulp of my Coke.
“No! Oh, gosh no, Cate. Nothing like that. I just thought if you had to move next year when I get married, then what’s stopping you from moving somewhere completely new?”
“Because I’m single and unattached.”
“You say it like it’s a bad thing.”
“Isn’t it?”
Christa frowned. “No. Not at all. So long as you’re happy.” I wasn’t sure if she’d intended it to, but the last part came out more like a question.
“I’m not unhappy,” I replied carefully. “I guess I’m just not sure what’s next. Plus, I learned on the weekend that my father’s dying.”
Christa froze and stared at me open-mouthed while I put down my drink slowly. Where had that come from? Even as I thought it, I understood it had been there all week, ever since I’d returned home from Heath’s. The long hours I’d been putting in at work weren’t just about my commitment to the job – they were an avoidance strategy.
Christa appeared to shake herself. “I’m so sorry, Cate. I had no idea.” She reached over and squeezed my arm.
“Nor did I until my brother told me.”
“When was the last time you saw him?” she asked, referring to my father.
“Thirteen years ago.”
Christa nodded soberly. It would be hard for her to understand. Her father had died when she was still a teenager and from the little she said about him, they’d been close.
“I don’t know what to do,” I admitted. “Do I go and see him? As soon as I think it, I dismiss it. He’d probably yell at me to leave if I turned up anyway.”
“You don’t know that.”
“But I do know that until I discovered he was sick, I had no intention of seeing him.”
“I’m sorry, Cate. I really don’t know what to say.”
I reached around and gave her a hug. “That�
�s the thing, you don’t have to. It’s enough to have you listen.”
Christa leaned into my embrace and rested her headful of blonde curls on my shoulder. “Sorry I haven’t been around to listen as much lately.”
I huffed. “Don’t be ridiculous, you’ve got a wedding to organize.”
“Don’t remind me,” she complained.
For the first time that night I laughed. “And look, here comes the reason for your angst.”
Max waved at us from across the room and Christa’s face lit up. I glanced back at Max. He wasn’t focused on me, his dark eyes were on his fiancée. And the love they held was obvious.
I busied myself finishing the rest of my drink. I was so happy for them, I really was, but something about the mood I was in made it hard to watch.
“Hey, Bubbles,” I heard Max say when he arrived at our table. “Cate.” I looked up and he shot me a grin while he reached in and pulled Christa to him.
“Hi, Max.”
Tall, dark, and handsome, Max Spencer was a catch. He was also one of the good guys. I’d always liked his unassuming nature. On the surface he appeared to take everything in his stride, but when you got to know him you realized he had a quiet confidence. Intelligent and driven, he wasn’t afraid to pursue what he wanted, which included my best friend, Christa.
“Guys, you already know my gorgeous fiancée,” Max announced, releasing Christa. “This is her close friend and flatmate, Cate Harmon.”
I straightened in my seat then quickly stood. I’d only just noticed the three men standing behind Max.
“Cate, this is Pete, James and Matt.”
I offered them a smile. I was grateful that despite my throbbing head ‘pleasant’ was my default state.
They stepped forward and waited to shake my hand politely. I tried hard to focus. Pete was tall, fair and lanky, with friendly eyes and a receding hairline. I liked him immediately. Matt was short and stocky with brown hair and eyes. He looked like he spent a lot of time at the gym. He gave me a shy smile when he shook my hand.
That left James. He was tall like Pete, but not as lanky. His skin was pale but not in an unhealthy way. Alabaster, isn’t that what people called it when someone’s complexion was impossibly white, smooth and perfect? Then again, maybe it was the contrast of his dark hair that made it appear so. It had a slight wave and he wore it longer so it curled at the ends.
Wish List: City Love 4 Page 8
