by Kris Webb
After talking for a few minutes longer, I rang off.
Despite Debbie and I having assured each other we weren’t going to count on this order until we had something in black and white, I sat in the car staring at the figures on the paper in front of me. If this really did happen it would totally change things. Our original thoughts of building up a range of similar products suddenly didn’t seem as ridiculous as they had yesterday, and, best of all, I wouldn’t have to go back to work.
Things were definitely looking up, I thought, hurrying up the front path to tell Max the good news. I stopped short as I walked into the living room, which looked like a bomb had hit it. Sarah’s crying reached me from upstairs. Heart racing, I took the stairs two at a time, following the noise to her bedroom.
She was lying on the change table, crying at the top of her lungs. Max was shirtless and standing in front of the open closet vainly rifling through the stacks of clothes. It took me only a second to realise that Sarah was perfectly fine, if a tad out of sorts, and then another one to recognise what was happening. I burst out laughing.
Max spun around at the sound. ‘Sophie. Thank God you’re here,’ he exclaimed and began rambling like a condemned man. ‘Sarah was crying and wouldn’t go to sleep and the book said it might be because she had a dirty nappy.’ He gestured towards the floor where a baby book lay open. ‘I checked and it was dirty, so I decided to change it. But then I discovered that it had gone all the way up her back and soaked through her clothes.
‘How can she do that?’ he asked in mystification. ‘Does it bounce off the bottom of her nappy or what?’ Without pausing for breath, he continued. ‘So I took off her clothes to change them. Then she did it again and it squirted all down the front of my shirt.’
‘It’s okay, Max, relax,’ I said, putting my hand on his arm and trying not to laugh. ‘Here, this will do.’ I pulled an outfit out of a drawer and led him back to the change table.
Max stood to one side, obviously having no intention of giving Sarah a second shot at him. Gently I coaxed him through the process of putting a new nappy on her and dressing her. When that was finished Max picked Sarah up, and as he did, she stopped crying and closed her eyes, obviously exhausted by the whole ordeal.
‘Put her into bed,’ I whispered.
Sarah stirred as Max laid her down and he froze, not moving again until she had settled back into sleep.
We left the room in silence and Max closed the door. ‘Phew,’ he breathed, running his forearm across his forehead. ‘That was harder than making a pitch to a new client.’
As we walked downstairs I told him about the approach we’d had from Johnson Brothers, trying hard not to let myself get too excited about the prospect.
‘What would you say to breakfast at the King Street Cafe?’ I suggested impulsively, enjoying having someone around in the morning who actually talked back to me. ‘It’s still only nine and I’m not meeting the others there until eleven.’
‘Sounds great,’ he replied. ‘But, hold on, we can’t go anywhere until Sarah wakes up.’
I couldn’t help but smile at the abrupt role reversal. ‘If we give her another ten minutes or so she’ll be sound asleep and we can move her into the pram without waking her. You’re going to want a shower anyway, aren’t you?’ I looked pointedly at his chest.
‘Ah yes,’ he replied with a grimace.
Twenty minutes later Max had showered and dressed in one of my rugby tops, which had once belonged to him anyway, and we were ready to go. After manoeuvring Sarah’s pram over the doorstep and onto the footpath, I noticed Max looking uncomfortably at me.
‘Would you mind if I, uh, pushed it?’ he asked nervously.
‘Of course not,’ I replied, happily relinquishing the pram.
Max put one hand on the handle and pushed it tentatively. Gaining confidence he picked up speed and soon we were strolling along the footpath. I was very conscious of the family scene we portrayed and I assumed Max was too. My attempt to make small talk failed, and we walked in silence for most of the way.
The clouds that had been hanging threateningly finally began dropping rain as we reached King Street, and we ran the last few metres to the cafe just as the heavens opened. When we burst through the door we were greeted by a scene which looked more like Debbie’s kitchen than the usually spotless cafe.
Although there were no customers, empty cups and saucers littered most of the available tables. The usually pristine counters were stacked with plates and glasses and Ben was standing behind the coffee machine looking unusually stressed. Spotting Max and me together, he brightened momentarily.
‘You two are up and about very early,’ he said, obviously fishing for information.
‘Max went to sleep on the sofa while he was looking after Sarah,’ I said quickly.
‘Oh, right,’ he replied with a smile, obviously not convinced. Turning back to the mess in the cafe, Ben’s mood darkened again. ‘Last night two of my staff members decided they were soul mates and ran off to Melbourne together. They didn’t feel that cleaning up from the afternoon session would be in keeping with this romantic revelation, and to make matters worse, they were both rostered on this morning. As a result, I have an absolute pigsty on my hands and no staff.’
‘Two of your staff members…’ I repeated. ‘That’ll teach you to break Anna’s rule and hire someone female.’
‘I didn’t,’ Ben replied flatly.
‘Ah…’ I said, trying not to smile. ‘Would it help if we started to clear tables?’ I hadn’t worked in a cafe since my university days but I was sure I could manage to wash a few plates and cups.
Ben looked ridiculously grateful. ‘That’d be great. What about Sarah?’
‘If I can find somewhere to put the pram, she should sleep for an hour or so. Can I leave her in the kitchen?’
‘Sure. Look, if you could just get the crockery clean and ready for the morning rush, that’d really help. I’ve called in more staff, but they’re probably still an hour away.’
Quickly I pushed the pram through the double doors and squeezed it into the tiny space between the wall and the paper-laden desk in an alcove off the kitchen. For the next three-quarters of an hour Max and I stacked and scrubbed cups and plates, and by the time Sarah woke, the place was starting to look more like its usual pristine self.
Finishing one last load, I dried my hands and took off my borrowed apron. I’d forgotten how hard cafe work was and I was pleased to have an excuse to stop and sit down. Max left the kitchen ahead of me and as I followed him with the pram, the handle dislodged a teetering pile of papers which spilled all over the floor.
Cursing, I bent down to collect them. As I stacked them back on the desk, I noticed a sheet of paper bearing the logo of the real estate agent I used. That made sense. It was a big agency and they probably rented Ben the cafe premises. What didn’t make sense was the fact that my address was on there.
I stared at the page dumbly for a moment. The document was an invoice made out to Max, care of the cafe. In the details column was $320, being for four weeks rent at my address.
What was going on?
Just then, Ben walked into the kitchen. Something in my face must have alerted him that all was not well because he suddenly looked concerned.
I thrust the offending page into his hands. ‘What’s this?’ I demanded.
When he saw what I was holding, he blushed a deep red. ‘Sophie, I’m sorry. I wanted to tell you.’
‘Tell me what?’
‘Max has been paying some of the rent since you moved into your place. He said you wouldn’t accept any money from him but he didn’t want you struggling on your own with Sarah.’
‘What are you talking about? How did Max even know where I was living, let alone how much I was paying?’
Ben went an even deeper shade of red. ‘Well, that bit of it is my fault. You came in the day you first saw your place. You seemed really excited about it, but didn’t think you’d have a
chance as they were asking for too much rent.’
‘What, so you thought you’d call Max in San Francisco and ask him to kick in for it?’ I was starting to feel like the victim of a conspiracy and couldn’t stop the sharp edge that had crept into my voice.
‘No. It wasn’t like that.’ Ben touched my arm. ‘Max called me a couple of days later. As usual the first thing he asked about was you. I told him about the house and that you weren’t hopeful about getting it at the price you’d offered. He asked me if I could find out who was renting it. It turned out that the estate agency was the same one that I’ve been renting through for years and I called them and pulled in a favour.’
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. So much for my strong words about managing without financial help from Max. He had been paying nearly a quarter of my rent the whole time. Wordlessly I turned around and began manoeuvring Sarah’s pram out of the tiny kitchen. In the process, I managed to dislodge yet another pile of papers, which I ignored.
Max had settled into a comfortable corner seat and was looking at the menu.
The pram caught a table leg and I swore under my breath. Wielding a pram made it hard to do anything with dignity.
‘I can’t believe that you have been paying part of my rent all this time,’ I stormed when I finally reached the table where Max was sitting. ‘You knew how I felt about you paying for a child you didn’t want. You knew I wanted to manage by myself.’
Ben had followed me out of the kitchen and Max looked from one of us to the other, obviously guessing what had happened.
‘What, were you planning on sneaking around paying for things until Sarah turned eighteen? God, you must think I’m so thick!’
‘Sophie … I’m sorry. I just wanted to help and you seemed so determined to do it all the hard way.’
‘Great. So you just went behind my back and lied to me. I’d rather be living in a shoebox on the edge of town than take guilt-inspired handouts from you. At least I’d know that it was mine. Just forget about it. I’m leaving. I’ll call you once I’ve sorted out what I’m going to do.’
As I jerked the pram through the doorway and out into the rain, I wished that I was one of those witty people who could think of good one-liners to exit on. No doubt the perfect thing would come to me in about a week.
I couldn’t believe how angry I was. Managing to support Sarah by myself had given me a lot of pride. Discovering that I hadn’t been, made me feel as though I’d been punched in the stomach. How could I have accepted the drop in rent so naively?
As soon as Sarah and I were out of sight, I stopped under an awning. Ignoring the fact that she was already more than damp, I slipped on the pram’s waterproof cover. Far from being upset, she seemed to think the whole thing was pretty funny.
‘Yeah, you just sit there laughing. You’re not the one who has to worry about finding somewhere else for us to live.’
About to brave the deluge once more, I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned to find Max standing beside me, gratifyingly looking as sodden as I felt.
‘Sophie. I’m really sorry. I didn’t think you’d take it like this. I had just handled everything so badly and I wanted to make up for it somehow.’
The awning wasn’t having much effect against the near-horizontal rain and Max looked up at the sky. ‘Look, we don’t have to have this conversation here. Won’t you come back into the cafe with me?’
I shook my head. ‘We don’t have to have this conversation at all. I’ve moved on, and Sarah and I are fine. You don’t need to feel guilty or that you have to look after us. The fact that you’ve been paying some of my rent doesn’t change anything, except that maybe now I’ll have to get a cheaper place. Or a flatmate.’
Impatiently Max pushed his wet hair out of his eyes. ‘All right, I’ll say it here. Sophie, I love you and I love Sarah and I want the three of us to be together.’
I shook my head again, more violently this time. ‘Max, we can’t become a family just like that. Being a parent is not about lazy breakfasts and cute toys. The longest you’ve ever spent with an awake baby is an hour this morning. I’m really pleased that you love Sarah and want to spend time with her, but I’ve been through so much stuff that you weren’t there for.’
‘Sophie, just hear me out, okay?’ Max interrupted. ‘San Francisco was never as great as I thought it would be. I couldn’t figure it out. The work was good, I met some fantastic people, the restaurants and parties were amazing, but I wasn’t having a good time. I’m a pretty slow learner and it took me a few months to figure out that what was missing was you.
‘I seem to have always been waiting for the perfect woman to come along. So I never wanted to get too serious with anyone just in case it meant I missed out when she finally appeared. What dawned on me once you were no longer around was that even if she existed, I didn’t want her.’
Max’s words definitely sounded as though they were going in a positive direction, but I couldn’t stop myself pulling a disbelieving face.
He smiled briefly. ‘Well, all right, maybe if her dad had made his money in pubs…’ His smile disappeared again and he stuck his hands in his pockets, scuffing his shoe against the cement footpath. ‘Seriously, I’ve finally realised that my obsession with a ridiculous fairy tale stopped me from seeing that I had already met the girl who’s perfect for me – you.’
My hand paused mid wipe across my face as I realised that not only was Max saying the words I’d only ever fantasised about hearing, but that he really did mean them.
Catching sight of a black smear on my hand, I quickly wiped my face again with my sleeve – I was sure Juliet hadn’t had to contend with running mascara when Romeo was comparing her to a summer’s day. If he ever had, that was – my Shakespeare was very shaky. I mentally shook myself. Max was standing in front of me spilling out his heart and I was thinking about a long-dead Englishman.
Thankfully Max was staring at his feet, not having noticed either my ruined makeup or my lack of reaction.
‘But, not only am I a slow learner, I’m also a coward,’ he continued. ‘It still took me another couple of months to decide that I wanted you on any terms, baby or no baby. By the time I got to that point, you were just about to have Sarah, and even with my lack of sensitivity I figured that wasn’t a great time to descend and vow my undying love to you.’
I was about to inform him that as far as I was concerned, that would have been the perfect time, but decided to keep quiet.
Max drew a breath and continued. ‘So I waited. The opportunity with the rent came up and it seemed like the perfect way to help. Once Sarah was a couple of months old, I couldn’t wait any longer and flew back. There was never any pitch, I’ve just been taking holidays each time I was here.’
I opened my mouth to speak but Max held his hand up. ‘No, let me get this off my chest. I’m trying to remember all the things I should have told you before. As I said, before I came back I had already decided I wanted you even though that meant a baby too. But now I’ve spent time with Sarah, she’s not just something I feel I have to live with. I think she’s amazing and the fact that she’s my daughter is still sinking in. I want to be around and see her grow up, every day, not just on alternate weekends.’
Max’s words stunned me. I’d always thought that if he hadn’t been back for work we wouldn’t have seen him at all. Now he was telling me that he’d made a decision about what he wanted months ago and had been working towards getting it ever since.
I took a deep breath. ‘Look, Max, this is a lot to take in. A year ago you couldn’t even cope with the idea of having a serious girlfriend and now all of a sudden you’re in the running for father of the year? Sarah and I have got things pretty well sorted now and I don’t think I can live worrying when the reality of having a baby will become too much for you. One look at me in my dodgy slippers after a bad night with Sarah and you’ll run screaming back to San Francisco.’
‘I know it sounds pretty weak,’ he acknow
ledged. ‘I’ve never believed that people can change, but they can grow up and I think I have finally moved out of adolescence.’
The already torrential rain became cyclonic and the sound of the water hitting the concrete was deafening.
‘Sophie, I don’t know how else to say it,’ Max yelled over the noise. ‘For God’s sake, I bought a bloody goat farm for you. Can’t you just give me a chance?’
Maybe it was his question, or maybe it was the cold water trickling inside the collar of my jacket, but I suddenly realised what a ridiculous situation this was and made a decision.
‘Look,’ I said. ‘Where are you living these days?’
‘I’m still in a hotel in the city. Why?’
‘This is just an idea, but seeing as how you’ve been paying rent already, what about moving into my spare room until you find somewhere permanent?’
Seeing the look on his face I added quickly, ‘As a flatmate only. Don’t go getting any ideas.’
Max smiled at me.
‘I wouldn’t dream of it.’
THOMAS DUNNE BOOKS.
An imprint of St. Martin’s Press.
FROM HERE TO MATERNITY. Copyright © 2003 by Kris Webb and Kathy Wilson. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. For information, address St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.
www.stmartins.com
eBooks may be purchased for business or promotional use. For information on bulk purchases, please contact Macmillan Corporate and Premium Sales Department by writing to [email protected].
ISBN 0-312-32799-4
EAN 978-0312-32799-6
First published in Australia under the title Sacking the Stork by Kris Webb & Kathy Wilson by Pan Macmillan Australia Pty Limited
First U.S. Edition: May 2004
eISBN 9781466872523
First eBook edition: April 2014
