The answer to that, in the first instance, had been to swallow back my significant opposition to getting him involved, and call Dad for some start-up capital. Fletch and Mum had insisted that he deserved the opportunity to support his son's legacy in his own way, and to his credit, he'd readily and generously invested in tonight's fundraiser. He'd drawn the line at actually attending, however, something I couldn't help but understand. To be honest, this foray into mainstream do-goodery made me a bit uncomfortable too, but I was trying not to let it show as I launched the quest to secure funds for surfing gear and tuition for underprivileged teens, typically, on a Thursday.
"Your brother was cute," Saskia said decidedly, tilting her head to the side as she considered his features. "If he hadn't died, I could totally have gone there."
Fletch made a noise of outrage, but I choked back a laugh, thoughts of Donny and my dad thankfully replaced with the real-life tangibility of the Townsends who were my family now.
"Thanks, Sass," I said sardonically, "that means a lot."
"We're here! I'm sorry we're late, but we're here!" There was a sudden pattering of feet and Livvy careened into view, looking as panicked as she always did when she was anything other than 15 minutes early.
Because, of course, it wasn't just Fletch and his sister who had got me through the years since I'd emerged from hospital with what Merry called my 'conviction to be a better person mark 2: the healthier version'. There was also Livvy, our closet academic who now had a Bachelor degree and Honours under her belt and was about to wrap up her Masters.
"It's fine," I reassured her, submitting to her hug and then pulling back to give her a quick check-over. As I suspected, her wide eyes were overbright and sported some serious dark bags under them. "How's the thesis going?" I asked knowingly and she let out a little groan.
"Slowly," she said and then, obviously noting my narrowed gaze, "but I'm fine."
"Hmm." I made a mental note to send round another care package chock-full of healthy meals for her tomorrow. Livvy had a bad habit of trying to survive solely on caffeine when she was mired in research for her advancement of women in 20th Century literature paper, or whatever it was, a habit I'd been trying, with varying degrees of success, to break.
I was about to ask where the others were, when I saw the doors Saskia and Fletch had entered through so dramatically a few minutes before being pushed open once again and Merry waddling in, flanked by a long-suffering looking Daz and Stefano.
"Oh, don't mind me," she called over, "you just run on in, Livvy, you with your cute, non-bloated feet and your unsquished bladder."
Although none of the rest of us were stupid enough to make eye contact with each other, the vibe in the room suggested we all longed to exchange meaningful looks. The thing was, after years spent being cosseted and buffeted by Merry's seemingly inexhaustible good humour, we'd found the one thing that could make Merry less merry. Pregnancy.
Her baby girl was due in a couple of weeks and, for the past month, Merry had been making three things very clear to all of us: she was swollen, she was aching, and she was thoroughly fed up with the whole thing. She was hardly the type to hide away at home on such a big night, however, so I wasn't in any way surprised to see that she'd forced herself out to be with all of us...whether we wanted her or not.
"Help," Stefano whispered as he broke away from Merry's side to plant a kiss on each of my cheeks, "the mother hen has gone mad."
"Well, we all knew it was only a matter of time," I muttered back and we shared a quick, almost guilty smirk, firm allies in this as we were in most things.
Like Fletch, Stefano hadn't changed much since we'd left uni. He still dressed impeccably and smelt divine, still seemed to flit from one thing to the next whether it be men or jobs. In fact, the only change of note was that, a year after Nonna had passed away, Stefano had finally come out to Nonno. It hadn't perhaps been the big moment the Earnest Gays would've liked; Nonno had made it clear that, whilst he would always love his grandson, he'd rather not discuss his sexuality, but that had been just fine with Stefano. It'd been no hardship being his fake girlfriend, but as I watched Stefano move on to greet Fletch with his usual flamboyance, I was glad that we'd all been able to stop pretending.
"Right," seeing that I needed to take control of my unruly lot before they got in the way of the final preparations, I clapped my hands loudly. "I've secured a couple of rooms out the back to get ready in. Ladies you're off to the left, gents to the right."
I moved forward to take Merry's arm, delivering a sharp look to Fletch and Daz as I did so.
"Suits," I said menacingly, "both of you. Bare calves are unacceptable tonight."
"Or any night!" Saskia called back as she and Livvy headed off in the direction I'd indicated.
"Or any night," I agreed. "And as for you," I added to Merry as I wheeled her around and we started to follow the others, "I know what you said about not dressing up, but I've found you a dress that I want you to at least try. I reckon you'll look so incredible Daz will want to take you home and knock you up all over again."
The look Merry sent her boyfriend over her shoulder at that point suggested that if he even thought about it he would find himself minus one very important appendage, and I smothered a smile.
Daz and I may have called a truce on any out and out hostilities, but it was no secret that neither of us considered our best friend's choice in a partner to be particularly wise. Something to be said of this thinly veiled aversion was that Merry and Fletch had bonded immensely during numerous shared eye rolls at our patently jealous behaviour.
As I'd suspected she would, Merry cheered up no end when she saw the floaty, Grecian-inspired number I'd found to flatter her increasing bulk and, once ensconced in a comfy chair having her make-up done by Saskia, she soon resembled her chirpy, pre-pregnancy self. I half listened for a while as she chattered to Livvy about possible names for her baby, before I finished zipping myself into my skin-tight, poison green, asymmetrical dress, and slipped back out into the main room.
As expected, Alexis and the rest of my team had been hard at work whilst I'd been getting ready, and the final result of our preparations warranted a moment's appreciation. The colour theme for the evening was sea green, blue and white and was echoed subtly (this wasn't a high school dance, after all) in the tablecloths, napkins and clusters of candles on each table. By far the crowning glory of the décor, however, were the projectors suspended from the ceiling which were splashing footage of people surfing across the white walls. The flickering of the candles and the light thrown by the wave images undulating on every side gave the space a dreamy, underwater feel, exactly what I'd been going for.
And yet...
There was a lull that happened occasionally with the big events I managed, a moment of inertia when everything that could be done was done and the guests were yet to arrive. It was at this point that, without fail, I felt panic start to crawl up my chest into my throat. If I wasn't leaping to fix some emergency, my brain scrambled to make ones up for me, ones I didn't have a hope of making right, of course, because they weren't real. In these moments, when I segued from control freak to control freak-out, I called Fletch and let his voice call me back from the edge. Today, however, as the tendrils of alarm started to unfurl in my stomach, I didn't have to make do with Fletch at the end of the phone, I had the real thing.
My heels clicked neatly on the parquet floor as I snaked my way through the staff lighting the last few candles, and over to the room I had designated as the boys' changing area. Rapping smartly on the door, I waited for a moment and then pushed it open just in time to see a very disgruntled and dishevelled looking Daz appealing to Stefano for help with his collar. This help was readily given as Stefano practically leapt across the room to tenderly attend to his friend's distress while Daz valiantly tried to look at ease with all the cooing and fussing.
I opened my mouth to make some comment, but before I got the chance, Fletch's voice said quie
tly in my ear, "If you annoy Daz then you annoy Merry and if you annoy Merry at the moment the world as we know it comes to an end, so I'd think very carefully about what you're about to say."
He was right of course and so, instead of sharing any 'don't let me interrupt you guys' or 'you make a great couple' wit, I wrapped my fingers in Fletch's and tugged him away.
"Distance will help me fight the urge to mock," I explained as I led him over to a dimly lit corner where I could simultaneously keep an eye on everything, but also remain out of the spotlight.
"I've never known you to want to fight the urge," Fletch said in amusement as I wrapped his arms around my waist and turned so that I could feel the buttons on his shirt brushing against the bare skin on my back. "Especially when it comes to Daz. Is this you growing as a person?"
"No," I said flatly, "this is me having just left a room where Merry was going on about how she wanted to name her daughter 'Atilla' so that when she called her 'honey' it would make her laugh. I'm not messing with that sort of insanity."
I felt Fletch's chuckle soft against my skin as he leant down to lightly kiss my shoulder, a move that, somehow, went a long way in banishing my insecurities about the success of the evening to the back of my mind. How he managed to practically exude reassurance was a complete mystery to me, but I had no qualms taking full advantage of it.
"Daz told me last week that she was threatening to call their kid Daddy's-Never-Touching-Mummy-Again so Atilla's actually an improvement," he muttered and I smiled as I settled myself more comfortably back against him.
"So, what do you think?" I asked after a few seconds, gesturing round the room, knowing what his response would be, but the praise-whore inside me wanting to hear it anyway. Sure enough, I felt him give an amused little sigh before he said,
"You know it's incredible, babe."
"Yes," I decided, giving the room another satisfied sweep, "I really do."
"Nice touch with the pretzels, by the way," he added and I turned quickly in the circle of his arms to look at him.
"So I was right?" I asked. "I thought they were Donny's favourite, but..." I didn't need to finish, Fletch knew what I meant. It'd been eight years now since Donny had passed away and, whilst I wasn't actively blocking his memory now, it still sometimes felt like he became more and more unreal by the day. I got that this was healthy in some ways, but I didn't want to leave Mum the sole keeper of my brother's memory either.
"You got it spot on," Fletch reassured me and that familiar thrill of validation travelled from the toes in my shoes right up to the last expertly styled hair on my head.
"Hey, check you in your suit!" I suddenly exclaimed, stepping back to give him a thorough up and down. "You look-"
"Uncomfortable," he finished for me, rolling his shoulders in a way that threatened to burst the crisp shirt at its seams.
"Well…yes," I admitted, "but in a very dapper way."
Fletch had just snorted and leant down to kiss me when there was a polite little cough and I looked round to see Alexis standing beside us a little awkwardly, Big Blue cradled in her arms.
"Sorry to interrupt," she apologised, "but, Lara, the schedule says you're due to prep the staff now. Doors open in half an hour."
Fletch sighed, muttering something that sounded an awful lot like 'that bloody folder…', but then he released me with his usual good grace. "Go do your thing, babe," he said. "I'll catch up with you later."
Even after all these years, something sparked in me as Fletch confirmed how fundamentally he knew when to step back for me as much as he knew when to step up. I'd seen the mushy cards Merry and Daz exchanged, and I'd heard the sappy pet-names Stefano called his short-lived paramours, but to my mind, these declarations were nothing compared to the unspoken understanding Fletch and I shared.
Still, sometimes Fletch deserved to hear it spoken and I decided this was one of those times. Mindful of Alexis standing right there, I leant in to whisper in his ear; words that formed a declaration and a thank you and that sometimes still felt foreign passing over my tongue, even as I truly meant every last one of them.
His lips curled at the edges as I finished and then, apparently not minding Alexis's proximity in the slightest, he pressed a fierce kiss to my mouth.
"You too," he said, somewhat hoarsely, and then he spun on his heel and marched off, giving me the space I needed to recalibrate my focus onto my work.
"Wow," Alexis murmured, watching Fletch's departing back as I got my breathing back under control and turned to take Big Blue off her.
I knew exactly what she meant, and more so, but I made a big effort not to stare longingly after my fiancé and instead clicked my fingers in her face.
"Eyes back in your head," I instructed my protégé, making her blush slightly, but obediently turn her attention to me. "We've got an event to run."
----------
"You're preening, Fletch."
"Am I?" He looked round and, seeing Merry lumbering towards him, pulled the chair beside him out for her. She sank down into it gratefully and then shook her head at him knowingly.
"You know you are. I could practically see you ruffling your feathers in self-satisfaction from the other side of the room."
As she rested her hand protectively over her swollen belly, he scoffed slightly at the blatant hypocrisy. "You can talk."
She smiled her Cheshire Cat smile and inclined her head to acknowledge the truth of it. "Yeah, well, it turns out that, along with indigestion, exhaustion and nausea, being pregnant makes you incredibly smug as well. What's your excuse?"
Automatically he sought Lara, finding her over near the door, clearly in full flight convincing one of her Dad's work colleagues to make a sizable donation to the cause.
"Ah, of course, stupid question," Merry laughed.
It was the end of the night and the crowd had thinned considerably, the majority of the attendees already wandering out into the night with full bellies and a charitable glow. The remaining guests picked over the debris of the cheese and fruit platters at their tables or hovered near Lara like moths to the flame, ripe for her to coax further donations to Donny's cause.
"So you're having a moment, hey?" Merry continued, dragging his gaze away from his fiancée to her. Obviously seeing his mystified expression, she clarified, "You know, one of those moments where you look around and think 'yep, this is good, this is what I wanted'."
He considered this. A look around for him would encompass his sister practicing some sort of sewing technique on a small square of fabric she'd pulled out of her pocket whilst she listened to Stefano and Livvy chatting away. It would encompass Daz who had ventured from Merry's side only to talk with Lara's mum, regaling her with the tale of his and Jai's recent surfing mishap in a way that made her red-faced with laughter. It would encompass his mobile lying on the table in front of him through which he'd just received news that the environmental impact study he and his team had spent the last 8 months working on had finally been ratified. And, of course, it would encompass Lara.
He knew, despite the years that had passed, that she still had to work for some of the things that came to him naturally, knew that there were always going to be moments when she pushed him away to work through something on her own. But he didn't doubt that she loved him. Not for a second.
As if hearing his thoughts, she glanced over at him, her eyes meeting his for a split second then rolling slightly to indicate how tedious she found her current situation. It wasn't a cry for help, Lara could more than handle the schmoozing that this evening necessitated, it was just a moment of connection, a check-in on where she was at that he appreciated more than he thought even she knew.
Turning his attention back to Merry he nodded slowly. “I think you’re onto something.”
“Yeah?” She asked.
“Yeah,” he confirmed. “This is good. This is what I wanted.”
~*~
The end.
Other novels by Jessie L. Star:
Private Lives, Public Property
So Much to Learn
Saving from Monkeys
Lighthouse Charlie
http://www.facebook.com/jessielstar
The Do-Gooder Page 33
