‘Where did you put my soccer ball?’ Matthew asked as he sipped on the hot chocolate.
‘By the front door. Don’t get up, I’ll fetch it.’
Courtney gave it to him and he curled up, with the ball lying against his stomach. As he became absorbed in the sports news, Courtney gestured to Frank that they talk in the kitchen. She sat down at their dining table and took a deep breath. ‘Can you believe the nightmare few days we’ve had? First to get the phone call from the school, then to be accused of abusing Matthew, and now all these tests.’
Her father put his hand on her arm. ‘Well, it’s all behind you now,’ he assured her. Somehow hearing her father say it made her feel infinitely better. That was the thing about parents: you believed they could see the future in a crystal ball. Except now that she was a parent, she knew that sometimes the truth wasn’t what your child needed to hear. Sometimes you had to paint the truth in another shade and then stand back, hoping it didn’t crack.
By the time David managed to leave his clinic it was two hours later than he had promised Courtney. Fortunately Frank had offered to stay and keep an eye on Matthew. David had seen twice as many patients as he usually would in that space of time. Being away from the hospital opened up space for denial. Maybe there really wasn’t anything to worry about. He knew that the body did inexplicable things all the time. Sometimes symptoms that appear to be red flags turn out to be nothing more than that person’s normal levels. So, when he got in the car to drive home, David had convinced himself that everything would be fine.
He opened his front door to find Matthew asleep on the couch, his soccer ball tucked in front of him like a pillow. Frank was sitting on the other couch reading the newspaper.
‘David,’ his father-in-law whispered. ‘I heard you had a hell of a day.’
‘Hell of a week,’ David corrected. ‘You wouldn’t think that missing one day in the clinic would snowball like this. I felt like I ran a sweatshop today getting that many patients in and out the door.’
David eyed an uneaten bagel on the table. ‘Matthew wasn’t hungry,’ Frank said, ‘so, go ahead.’ David devoured it.
When Matthew woke up, he still looked pale and fatigued but he immediately wanted to get outside to kick the ball around.
‘Buddy, you look tired. It’s better that you rest today so you can have all your energy back tomorrow.’
Matthew’s eyes seemed an even lighter shade of blue. ‘You promised. When I was in the hospital you said if I have that test, I could take time off school to practise.’
‘That’s true, I did say that, but only if you were up to it. Just this morning you told me your hip hurt.’
‘It doesn’t anymore,’ he said, clearly lying. David couldn’t fathom his son’s sheer determination. He was not even in his teens yet he had the focus of an Olympian. He just would not rest until he felt he was ready for the game. The responsible parent in David told him to be stern, put his foot down, and forbid Matthew to do anything physically tiring. But the other parent in him, the proud parent, the one who only wanted their child to be happy, won. ‘Okay, buddy, but only for fifteen minutes. No running. No jumping. Just kicking, right foot only and you’ve got to promise to stop if anything hurts. Do we have a deal?’
Matthew smiled like he did when David came home with a signed Manchester United shirt for him.
Frank’s eyes narrowed, a signal of disapproval, but his father-in-law would never intervene or say what he really thought. ‘It’s just for fifteen minutes,’ David found himself saying to Frank, seeking reassurance anyway.
The grass felt soft and welcoming beneath David’s bare feet. He breathed it in; being outdoors in the sun was like Valium to him. Maybe it stretched back to his university days and the hours spent on the lawn, soaking in youth and possibility.
‘What are you waiting for?’ Matthew said playfully, waiting to receive the ball.
David tapped the ball so lightly that it barely made it across the grass. ‘Dad, what was that? Lift your game,’ he smirked.
Matthew kicked the ball hard at David and winced, letting out a small gasp.
He was at his son’s side in seconds. ‘What is it? Did that hurt?’
‘No,’ Matthew said, ‘I was just expecting the ball to lob.’ Matthew flicked his hair back, a signal to David that he was lying.
‘You know, buddy, you can miss this game. Coach Flanagen can tell the academy scout to come another week.’
‘No, Dad. I made Mom promise not to tell him. You have to promise too. I know what will happen if he does that. He’ll pick a squad and then that will be that.’
‘There will always be next year,’ David assured him.
‘Dad, come on. You never know what could happen in a year. There could be tons of better players than me. He can forget I exist. I could break my leg. We could move states.’
‘None of that is going to happen.’ David shrugged, feeling at a loss. How could he put his son off? Finally he summoned his stern voice. ‘Well, if you insist on playing, then you have to rest today. You just got out of hospital. Give it a day in bed and tomorrow you can practise.’
‘But tomorrow’s Monday! That means I only have five days.’
‘Five days is plenty. Plus, you’ve been practising your whole life.’
‘Fine,’ Matthew said, crossing his arms. ‘But I hope you’re right, ’cause that game means everything to me. Everything.’
17
ACCORDING to ancient Greek mythology, the creation of the olive tree stems back to the city of Attica when Athena, Goddess of Wisdom, and Poseidon, God of the Sea, were challenged with giving the citizens the most precious and divine gift. Poseidon struck the Acropolis with his trident and a spring of seawater flowed from it, an offering of sea power. Athena followed by striking a rock with her spear, forming the olive tree, a symbol of peace and fruitfulness.
The citizens chose the olive tree, believing it to be the most valuable of the gifts. The city was renamed Athens, after Athena, and she became its eternal protector.
Helena used to tell Jade the story. ‘You see, agapi mou, all the olive trees descend from that very first one offered by Athena,’ she would say. ‘“Kathe elia ehei angichtei apo tous theous.” Every olive tree has been touched by the Gods.’
It had been a week since the fires and they had just received a donation of extra-virgin olive oil from a Hunter Valley grove in New South Wales. As Jade held the bottles in her hand, acutely aware of how much her family had lost, the legend came to her mind and she remembered how, as a child, she would nag her grandmother to tell her the story over and over again. ‘Why, YiaYia, did they pick the olive tree over the power of the sea?’
‘With olive trees, you have oil to burn, you have wood to build, you have food to eat. And you have the power to forgive.’
Her grandmother’s stories made her believe that olives were magical. As long as they had their olive grove, they would have everything they needed. As she looked at the green glow of the oil encased in the glass bottle, she saw it now for what it was – an ingredient with which to cook, and nothing more.
‘We don’t need these,’ Jade said quickly, handing the box to Pamela before they were taken to the kitchen. She didn’t want her grandmother to see the bottles and be confronted with the loss of their own olive trees. ‘I’ll add them to the miscellaneous collection,’ Pamela said. She started to walk away but then called over her shoulder, ‘Oh, by the way, a fireman came by to see you,’ she said flippantly.
Jade ran to catch up with her. ‘What do you mean?’ she asked quickly. ‘Who came?’
Pamela placed the box beside some donated boots. ‘I don’t know who it was. Must be one of the guys helping from the Melbourne stations. He asked me if I knew where he could find you. And when I told him you weren’t here yet, he left.’
‘Did you ask his name or why he was looking for me?’ Jade asked, trying to hide her growing frustration.
‘No, sorry. I mean, people
have been asking for you and me nonstop the past few days. I just figured it was another request for donations.’
Jade exhaled. She couldn’t get angry at Pamela; she didn’t know that there were only two people in the world Jade wanted to see right now: her mother and Adam. ‘What did he look like?’
Pamela watched Jade, registering the uncharacteristic edginess in Jade’s voice, taking in the sudden crimson in her cheeks. ‘He had brown hair, bluish eyes, six-foot-something. Handsome,’ she said, grinning. ‘Very handsome. Why, could this young man be someone you fancy?’
‘No!’ Jade answered quickly, too quickly. She felt like a guilty student. ‘If it’s who I think it was, his name is Adam and he was the fireman who found me at the creek. The one who saved my life.’
‘I’ll tell you what, I wouldn’t mind being rescued by someone like that.’
Jade blushed. ‘Mrs Tanner,’ she laughed.
‘I’m sorry. I forget that you were once my student. I guess, to you, I will always be Mrs Tanner. But please, stick to calling me Pamela.’ She twirled a ginger strand of hair and threaded it back into her bun. ‘Now, tell me more about this mysterious young fireman. You know, I could get the lowdown from my husband, if you like. Find out if he’s single.’
‘Oh no, don’t do that,’ Jade said hastily. She tried to find something to busy herself with so Pamela wouldn’t study her too closely. ‘It’s not like that at all. I just don’t know why he would be looking for me.’
‘Have you seen him since that night? Maybe he just came to check that you were doing okay.’
‘I ran into him by our property. They were chopping down some trees and he offered to take me to look through the rubble of my house. He said it wasn’t safe to look alone, well, not until the safety inspections had been done at least.’
Pamela folded her arms and cocked her head to one side. Her eyebrows were the same coppery-red as her hair and she arched one of them up with a grin. ‘So, he left his team to help you go through the rubble,’ she said slowly, playfully. ‘Now, I would imagine he would have been very busy. So, to take some time out to help a pretty girl …’ Jade blushed. ‘And now he’s looking for you. Jade, you’re a smart girl. I know that because I taught you. Let’s just say I don’t think he came here to see if you needed a shovel.’ At that, someone else grabbed Pamela’s attention with a delivery and she left Jade standing there, digesting her words.
The insinuation that Adam was somehow interested in her made Jade nervous. She was sure Pamela was wrong. If Adam had stopped by, there had to be a reason for it. Yet Jade’s chest fluttered at the idea and she toyed with it, hoping he would come back. When she walked past the mirrored splashbacks of the bar, she found herself pausing to catch her reflection. She undid her plait, and soft curls fell over her shoulders and down her back. She ran her fingers over her eyebrows and licked her lips, wishing she didn’t look so exhausted.
Army officials had erected two large tents over the car park, so for the rest of the day Jade and the other volunteers moved the clothing and miscellaneous items out of the pub and into one of the tents, along with the firewood. The questions for Jade seemed endless, and the attention was a new experience. She had always liked to make herself invisible, to be one of those people who could slip into a room without being noticed. Wallpaper. She had taken on a quiet existence since she was a child and her mother would look past her as if she were see-through.
Now, the attention that she had unwittingly brought upon herself made her uneasy, like wearing clothing that was too tight. But at the same time, Jade couldn’t help but feel invigorated by a sense of purpose and responsibility that she had never experienced before.
In the late afternoon, Jade was carrying two bags of clothing when she turned to see Adam walk into the pub. She saw his eyes scan the room and she stood for a moment watching him, hoping it was her he was looking for. He was in his firefighter’s uniform and he was carrying a crate. Her chest tightened as he caught her eye and walked towards her. She put the clothing down on a chair and tried to keep her hands from trembling; the sight of him alone made her nervous.
‘Jade,’ he said, smiling as he placed the crate on the bar. ‘Looks like you’ve been really busy. It’s impressive what you’ve done. You’ve turned this whole place into a relief centre.’
Jade blushed. ‘I’ve helped where I could, that’s all. It’s been a community effort.’
‘You’re very humble. But I know you and Pamela have been leading the way. I’ve been working with her husband at the station and he says the two of you haven’t stopped.’
Jade thought back to what Pamela had implied, but when she gazed at Adam she couldn’t imagine that someone so handsome could be interested in her. ‘I brought you something,’ he said, pushing the crate forward.
She swallowed, curious. It must be donations of some sort, she told herself. But when he put his hands into the crate and pulled out a melted box, Jade knew at once what it was. ‘It’s my mother’s,’ she whispered in disbelief, running her hands over the black and rusted-green box. ‘Where did you find it?’
‘After I finished my shift yesterday, I went to your property to see if I could salvage anything else for you.’ He looked down as if embarrassed by his admission. ‘I hope you don’t mind that I did that. There’s some other stuff that I found too,’ he added, nodding towards the crate.
But Jade was fixed on the jewellery box. She tried to open it but the melted metal had welded it shut.
He took it from her and as his fingers brushed hers it felt like a current of electricity passed between them. He levered it open and handed it back to her to reveal a perfectly preserved gold chain. Jade put her hand over her mouth to keep herself from crying. She held it in her palm, thinking of all the times she had sat on her parents’ bed, watching her mother seated at the dressing table fastening it delicately around her neck. ‘Thank you,’ she said and, without thinking, she found herself hugging him. She took in the warmth of his chest against hers and felt it move as he took a deep breath. She stepped back quickly, suddenly self-conscious. ‘I’m sorry, I just … I didn’t have the chance to take anything of my mother’s.’
His cheeks dimpled into a smile and their eyes caught, making her feel dizzy all over. ‘That was really kind of you. To do that.’
‘I have to get back,’ he said, with a hint of reluctance. ‘I just wanted to give this to you.’ He hesitated for a moment. ‘Will you be here tomorrow?’
‘I have nowhere else to be.’ She smiled.
‘I’m finishing at five in the afternoon. Maybe I could drop you home?’ He said it quickly, nervously, and she blushed.
There were so many ways she could get home. She could walk. Her dad could pick her up or she could get a lift with one of the volunteers. But instead, she found herself accepting his offer.
When he was gone, she sifted through the crate carrying misshapen fragments of her life and, instead of being reminded of everything they had lost, she thought only of his chest against hers, of the glow of his eyes, and the way he made her feel like she mattered.
18
IF YOU stare at a painting for long enough, you begin to see things you never noticed the first time. A shadow could conceal a figure. Rising mist could hide a boat drifting away. What you thought was one thing could actually be another entirely. That’s what Courtney loved about Gabriela’s work – she hid more than she revealed. A cluster of leaves disguised shoes left on an embankment. The nape and hair of a woman was hidden in the corner of a mirror in a bedroom scene. Her paintings were like layers – you could enjoy the beauty on the surface or you could delve deeper and see the things buried beneath.
Courtney read through her speech one last time before she drove to the gallery for the opening. It was going to be a mad few hours but she was determined to give her best at the opening before dashing to Matthew’s game.
For the first time, it was Matthew who was pressing David to get ready, even though there were
still two hours until the game started. He was sitting on the edge of his bed putting his shin pads on under his thick socks. ‘Mom, can you tell Dad to hurry or we’ll be late,’ he said as he jumped from foot to foot and paced the corridor, full of nervous energy. Matthew had made a great recovery in the past few days. He had stopped complaining about pain in his hip and he even had colour back in his cheeks. As far as Courtney was concerned, the hospital nightmare was behind them. She wasn’t even thinking about the fact that they hadn’t received his bone-marrow results yet. Courtney leaned against the door of their bedroom and watched David as he threw on a polo shirt. He looked more anxious than Matthew.
‘You do realise you’re not the one playing today, right?’ Courtney teased. She stepped into the room, wrapped her arms around his waist and kissed him on the back of his neck.
‘I hope he gets in, Courts,’ he said, fixing his hair in the mirror. ‘It would be huge. His whole life could change. I’m just worried that he’s deliberately stopped complaining about his hip so we would let him play. He seems okay to you, doesn’t he?’
‘He seems perfect to me. He has colour in his cheeks and he’s walking fine. I want to put the whole thing behind us.’
David looked down at his laces as he tied them. ‘I’m worried that maybe it’s too soon. It’s only a week since he had the biopsy and I don’t want him to push himself.’
Courtney stepped back. ‘I’m going to hope that’s your nerves speaking, because this whole time you’ve been telling me he’s fine to play.’
‘You’re probably right,’ David said. ‘I just don’t want to see him upset if he doesn’t get in, and he might not play his best if his hip is still painful.’
Courtney ran her hands through his dark hair. ‘We’ve had enough worrying this week. He would never not have played, no matter what we said to dissuade him, so I think it’s best that we sit back and let him live out his dream.’
The Ties That Bind Page 11
