Eddie’s heart landed at her feet. Could the day get any worse?
*
That afternoon Harry stepped out of his car and smiled as he watched an older woman limp slowly around the side of the yard and approach the fence. No question this woman was Eddie’s nan. She pulled off her gardening gloves and shaded her eyes with one hand.
‘Harrison Baxter. To what do I owe the pleasure?’
‘Good morning, Mrs Campbell.’
She held out her hand. ‘Call me Daisy. I’m a huge fan. You sang brilliantly last night.’
‘Thank you.’
‘I’m looking forward to going to Melbourne to watch the show when it opens. I know your mum, although not very well. I saw her recently at the hospital. She told me your dad’s sick.’
He nodded. ‘Motor Neurone Disease. Diagnosed at Christmas.’
‘Yes, she told me. That’s rough for all of you. I’m sorry.’
‘Thanks.’
She opened the gate to let him in. ‘How can I help you?’
‘I’ve come to see Eddie.’
‘She’s in her cottage. Go on over, but I’d better warn you, we gave her some upsetting news this morning and she’s been in a cranky mood all day.’
He followed the path to Eddie’s door to see her leaning against the doorframe, waiting for him. She must have heard his car. His face broke into a smile until he saw her eyes. She looked like she’d been crying.
‘Hey,’ he said. ‘You okay?’
‘Not really.’
He followed her inside and closed the door softly behind him. ‘Is something burning?’ he asked.
‘Cookies are in the oven.’
He went to her and caught her in his arms. ‘What’s wrong, Eddie?’
She faced him and a tear ran down her face. ‘It’s nothing. I’m just being silly and emotional.’
A buzzer sounded. ‘I have to take the cookies out of the oven before I burn this batch too.’
Remembering a conversation they’d once had about food and her lack of baking abilities, he said, ‘I thought you said you don’t cook.’
‘I bake when I’m stressed.’
He followed her into the galley kitchen and noticed the untidy stack of dishes that littered every surface area. By the looks of it, she’d been cooking all day. He spied a chocolate cake on a plate that hadn’t come out of the tin in one piece, and on a cooling rack he spotted something that resembled rocks. He tried to hide a smile. She wasn’t lying when she said she couldn’t cook.
She slid her hands into mitts and opened the oven door. ‘Damn!’
‘What’s wrong?’
‘I’ve burned these too. Stupid oven.’ She pulled the tray of cookies out and slammed the door closed with her foot.
He looked over her shoulder. ‘Should it be on two-twenty? That seems high.’
‘I wanted them to cook quicker.’
‘By the amount of baking I can see you’ve attempted today something major is stressing you out. Want to talk about it?’
‘Maybe I’m stressed because I can’t cook.’ Another tear ran down her cheek and she brushed it away with the oven mitt.
Harry had had enough. ‘Okay, Eddie, that’s it. Talk to me.’ He slipped the mitts off her hands and tossed them on the bench, taking gentle hold of her wrists. ‘What is it? Tell me what’s wrong. Why are you so upset?’
A sudden thought hit him. Was Eddie actually upset with him? Did she think Riley’s baby was his? Was her stress unrelated to whatever news her grandparents had given her? Or was he over-reacting?
Her eyes drifted to the lumps of cookie-shaped charcoal cooling on the baking tray on the bench. ‘I told you, I’m cranky because I stuffed up another batch of cookies. And now I’m upset for carrying on like this about nothing when you’re worrying about your dad.’ She huffed out a breath. ‘Seriously, would you listen to me carrying on like I’m a child? Ignore me.’
‘No way.’ He led her across the floor to the sliding doors, opened them and stepped out onto the deck. Once they were seated on the top step, he faced her. ‘What’s really wrong?’
Eddie lifted her hands and let them flop back into her lap before allowing the words to tumble out.
‘Everything.’
Chapter 24
Harry sensed Eddie needed to talk. ‘How about I make us a coffee and you can tell me what’s going on?’
She sighed. ‘Okay. But I’d prefer a cup of tea if that’s all right.’
He sprang up. ‘Don’t go anywhere.’
He went inside, flicked the button on the kettle and found half a packet of Tim Tams in the fridge. They’d be better than any of the cookies Eddie had baked.
When he came back outside, Eddie was in a deck chair, shivering. It had been an unseasonably cool day and now as the sun was setting a cold wind had sprung up. He ducked back inside and grabbed a knitted blanket from the couch, which he passed to her. He then handed her the steaming mug of tea and tossed the Tim Tams in her lap.
She smiled. ‘You’ve worked out the way to my heart already. Give me someplace warm, a cup of tea and some chocolate, and I’m a happy woman.’
‘I thought these were a better option than the cookies. Sorry to say, they didn’t look edible.’
That earned him a bigger smile. ‘Tim Tams are always a better option.’
He sat back beside her on a matching deck chair. ‘You were saying.’
She pulled her legs under her and fixed the blanket around her toes and told him all about her grandparents’ decision and how she felt rejected. Although he was thankful her frustration had nothing to do with him or Riley, he sympathised with her. He knew all about rejection.
‘They’re probably doing what they think is best for you,’ he said.
‘But I promised to always be here for them.’
‘And you will be. But that doesn’t mean you have to live next door to them for the rest of your life, and theirs.’
‘I suppose.’
He let silence fall between them as Eddie sipped slowly on her tea.
‘I’ll miss these views if I have to move into town,’ she said after a while, sweeping her arm out in an arc in front of her. He could see why. As the sun slowly slipped down the horizon, slivers of golden orange were followed by a trifecta of watermelon, peach and lemon. Fairy-floss clouds floated over her head amidst a sky of slate grey, teal and denim. It was a stunning vista and it would be hard to walk away from. ‘Imagine not seeing sunsets like this every night,’ she said.
‘Couldn’t agree more. I used to go up to the lookout when I was younger, to watch the sun rise and set. To dream. To think. To sing.’
‘It’s an amazing view up there,’ she agreed. ‘I haven’t been there for years.’
‘You don’t need to, you have equally good views from here.’
‘I love it in winter when you look out over the farms in the valley and watch as wisps of smoke curl into the cold air and lights come on.’
‘My favourite season is autumn when the leaves are turning.’
‘It’s beautiful every season,’ she agreed wistfully, ‘which is why I’m gutted I have to move. I can’t explain it, Harry, but when I’m sitting here I feel so close to heaven. Like I could almost reach out and touch it. And I feel close to Mum here too.’
‘I can see why.’
She shivered again.
‘You still cold?’
‘A little.’
‘We can go back inside.’
‘Nah. This is nice.’
‘Come here then. I’ll keep you warm.’ Harry patted his thigh and she hopped into his lap, rested her head against him and he wrapped his arm around her, holding her tight.
‘Do you miss Yallambah?’ she asked.
Good question. ‘Until this trip I didn’t realise how much.’ He brushed his lips against her hair. ‘But maybe that has something to do with you.’
Her cheeks reddened. ‘You don’t come back very often, do you? Why?’
&
nbsp; ‘I don’t come back as often as I should. It’s been less and less over the years, for lots of reasons. Mostly because of my dad.’ He squeezed her tight. ‘But now I have lots of reasons to keep me coming back.’
She gazed at him with wide eyes. ‘I still can’t believe we grew up less than half an hour’s drive apart and never met. Although maybe we did and we don’t remember.’
He picked up her hand and ran his thumb over the back of it. ‘Trust me, I’d remember meeting you.’
‘How’s Riley?’
The question came from nowhere and he stilled in surprise. It sounded innocuous enough, but he wasn’t so stupid not to realise there was meaning behind it.
‘She’s good,’ he replied cautiously.
‘After seeing you with Riley last night I need to ask: is there something between you two, or has there been in the past? I’m not blind. You’re obviously very close – more than friends. And I promise I’m not the jealous type, but if there’s something going on still, I need to know.’
He licked his lips. ‘You’re right. We are more than friends. Or at least, we were.’
Eddie pulled back to stare at him. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
He cleared his throat. ‘Riley and I had a friends with benefits arrangement.’
She stared at him without blinking. ‘Had? Or have?’
‘We’ve been friends for years. It started when she needed a plus one to an event. Afterwards we drank too much and ended up in bed together. Rather than being awkward the next day, it was easy. Neither of us wanted anything permanent or long term, so it suited us.’
Worry creased her brow. ‘So was I right? Is she pregnant?’
‘Yeah, you were right. She’s five months.’
She pulled away. ‘Is it yours?’
‘No.’
‘You’re sure?’
‘One hundred per cent sure. I trust Riley and I know she’s telling the truth. From the timing it could have been mine and at first I thought it might have been, but she told me this morning she got together with a guy she’s known for years and fell pregnant. They’re both committed to each other now and excited about becoming parents. I’m happy for her. For them.’
‘Are you disappointed?’ she asked.
He stared at her in confusion. ‘About what?’
‘That the baby isn’t yours.’
‘Not at all. I was actually relieved to be honest.’
She frowned. ‘Don’t you want to be a father?’
‘Yes, of course I do. One day. When the timing’s right. And when it’s with the right person.’
‘What about you and Ashleigh?’
He almost snorted. ‘Definitely nothing going on there.’
‘Last night at the party I overheard someone called Britt say Ashleigh’s been trying to get into your pants for ages.’
‘Years,’ he confirmed.
‘And you’re not interested?’
‘Definitely not. Please don’t believe anything Ashleigh ever says. I’ve told her she’s wasting her time and energy on me. Nothing about Ashleigh Brennan interests me. Nothing.’
‘You know, I overheard her say I’m just desperate for a baby daddy.’
He stared at her in disbelief. ‘She said that? I’m sorry, Eddie. Ashleigh can be so cruel.’
‘Is that what you think? That all I’m after is someone to have babies with?’
‘No. It’s the last thing I’d think.’ He tightened his grip on her hands and gave her an apologetic smile. ‘I’m sorry you had to hear Ashleigh say those nasty things. She’s just jealous.’
‘That’s not all she said.’ The words and all her insecurities tumbled out as Eddie recounted everything she’d overheard. ‘I’m worried we have nothing in common and our worlds are too far apart,’ she concluded.
‘We have lots in common.’
‘I can’t sing.’
‘I can’t cook,’ he said. ‘We have that in common.’
Eddie chuckled.
‘We might have a lot of differences, but we can make this work, Eddie, if you want it to. Communication is the most important thing in a relationship.’
‘I thought it was love.’
‘That too.’ He took her face in his hands and kissed her gently on the lips.
‘So you’re not in love with Ashleigh or Riley?’
‘No, Eddie. I’m in love with you.’
As Harry’s words sank in, relief replaced the anxiety that had been flooding through her. ‘And I’m in love with you,’ she whispered, before he took her in his arms and kissed her.
Chapter 25
‘The lamb’s ready,’ Claire announced as she closed the oven door and slid the meat onto a cooling tray. ‘I’ll let it rest while we wait for Mum and Dad. They should be here soon.’ She pulled off the oven mitts and sat them on the bench with a satisfied smile.
Only after Harry had issued the invitation to Sunday lunch at Thornhill and Eddie had accepted did he tell her he’d never invited another woman to meet his family. She had been understandably nervous, but the moment she met his sister and brother-in-law and their children she’d relaxed. Claire had insisted they eat at her place rather than the main farmhouse, to give Jenny a break.
‘Are you sure I can’t do anything to help?’ Eddie asked. She crossed her fingers behind her back and hoped Claire would refuse. She had no desire to step into another woman’s domain.
‘It’s all good,’ Simon said, patting his wife on the backside as he walked past, brandishing a breadknife. ‘My wife can cook with her eyes closed.’
Eddie chuckled. ‘That’s a gift I wish I had.’
‘Although why she insists on cooking a roast on a day like this. I’d have been happy to cook some snags on the barbie. Nothing wrong with sausages in bread.’
Claire rolled her eyes in mock annoyance. Her love for her husband was obvious. ‘If you want sausages in bread, Sime, you can get some from the Lions Club next time they’re doing a fundraiser in town. The rest of us happen to prefer our meat cooked, not char-grilled.’
‘They’re such a fussy lot,’ Simon said to Eddie with a wink as he walked past carrying a stack of plates. ‘Where have you put the bread, Claire?’
‘Harry was supposed to bring it,’ she said, looking pointedly at her brother.
‘Bugger.’ He shot her an apologetic look. ‘Sorry.’
‘It’s fine.’ She turned to Simon. ‘I think there’s a loaf of sourdough in the freezer. Pull that out. In this heat it won’t take long to defrost.’
‘Do you want me to go over and see what’s taking Mum and Dad so long?’ Harry asked, before the door opened and someone called out, ‘Smells wonderful, darling. Sorry we’re late.’
Eddie swung around to see Harry’s parents in the doorway. Jenny was tall and slim, and it was obvious where Harry and Claire got their good looks. Jim followed two steps behind his wife, his back slightly bowed. He lifted his head to meet Eddie’s gaze and gave her a warm smile. Jenny deposited a bottle of drink on the bench and headed straight for Eddie, arms outstretched, beaming smile on her face.
‘You must be Eddie. Lovely to meet you. I’ve been hearing all about you from Harry.’
Eddie accepted the hug. ‘Nice to meet you too.’
Simon ushered everyone into the formal dining room. Eddie found herself seated between Jenny and Olivia, opposite Jim.
‘Been another scorcher,’ Jim said.
Eddie smiled politely. ‘It has. The fire danger rating has sat at extreme all week. Very unusual for this time of year.’
‘Especially after the cooler weather we had recently. Very odd. Must be all that global warming they keep going on about,’ Jenny said.
Everyone nodded and murmured their agreement as Claire and Simon placed dishes in the centre of the table. For the next few minutes everyone was busy passing plates and heaping food onto them. Olivia knocked over the gravy boat but Simon swung into action and mopped it up without any fuss before it dripped into
Eddie’s lap. Harry poured everyone a drink, Simon said grace and they took their first mouthfuls of food. Everyone complimented Claire on the tenderness of the lamb and the crispness of the roast vegies, before the conversation flowed as family stories were told amidst laughter, the chink of cutlery against crockery, and requests to ‘pass the plate’ as they helped themselves to seconds.
At times Eddie felt an air of tension hovering over the table, mostly between Harry and his father, but everyone did their best to either ignore it or cover it up. Maybe they were used to it. Harry didn’t say much – which surprised Eddie, he was ordinarily very chatty – and Jim hardly contributed to the conversation at all. He barely ate anything either, and it was obvious how much difficulty he was having swallowing – a sign that the disease was perhaps further advanced than anyone in the family fully understood.
‘Finished,’ Jackson declared, half an hour later.
‘Can we go outside?’ Olivia asked.
‘Yes, but make sure you put some sunscreen on first.’ Claire smiled apologetically at Eddie when the thunder of departing feet on polished floorboards had subsided. ‘They got new bikes for Christmas.’
Jenny smiled. ‘I remember the year we gave you and Harry new bikes.’
Claire laughed. ‘I’d forgotten about that. Harry crashed his into the chook shed.’
He winced. ‘Fair go. I was younger than Jackson and trying to keep up with you.’
Everyone laughed.
‘Your kids are lovely,’ Eddie told Claire.
‘Thank you.’
‘And lunch was so good. You’re an exceptional cook.’
Claire smiled. ‘Thank you. Mum taught me.’
‘Lucky for you,’ said Eddie. ‘My nan tried to teach me, but I think when DNA was handed out I missed all the cooking genes.’
Simon chuckled. ‘You and me both.’
Harry nodded. ‘It’s true. Sime can’t cook toast without burning it.’
‘Simon can’t cook anything without burning it,’ Claire said.
Simon glared good-naturedly at his wife. ‘Oi, I’m not that bad.’
Claire tilted her head. ‘How often do you set off the smoke detector?’
‘That’s because it’s too close to the kitchen,’ he retorted.
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