Meant To Be

by Fiona McCallum

  ‘Trust you to think of everything, sis,’ Jake said, beaming at his sister.

  Chapter Forty-two

  That night, Emily didn’t think she’d sleep at all for the nerves and excitement rushing about inside of her. But she must have, because the next thing she knew, she was being gently prodded. She reluctantly opened her eyes.

  ‘Time to get up, sleepyhead,’ Jake said, kissing her before getting out of bed and gathering and pulling on clothes.

  Emily rolled onto her back, wanting to savour one last moment before getting up to face what would be an extremely long and exhausting day.

  ‘Come on, no time for lolling about,’ Jake persisted, leaning across the bed and giving her a nudge.

  She was still unable to make herself move.

  ‘Are you okay?’ Jake asked, sounding concerned. He came around to her side and crouched down.

  ‘Just having trouble getting going. I’ll be right,’ she said, and dragged her legs out from under the covers and onto the floor.

  ‘What you need is bacon and eggs,’ he said cheerfully.

  Emily cringed. The thought of it made her suddenly queasy. Please don’t make me sick today, little one, she silently pleaded as she got out of bed. Jake headed out to the kitchen. She heard him greet Simone and begin clattering around, getting out pots, pans, and utensils.

  Emily was slow to get dressed. By the time she entered the kitchen it was filled with the scents and sounds of cooking. She felt a strange sense of both longing and repulsion at the thought of greasy bacon and eggs. She looked on for a few moments, trying to work out which of the feelings was more dominant. Still undecided, she went over to where Jake stood at the pan and took a deep whiff of the rising steam.

  ‘Yum,’ she said hopefully.

  ‘I wasn’t sure if it might make you feel ill,’ Jake said. ‘I only realised when I was past the point of no return,’ he added sheepishly.

  ‘It’s okay. I’m not sure myself. I guess we’ll see,’ Emily said with a sigh.

  ‘Well, you need a good breakfast. We’ll be on our feet for most of the day and then tonight. You and the little one are going to need all the strength you can get,’ Simone said firmly. ‘Try a couple of these.’ She handed Emily a box of tablets.

  Emily frowned and started reading.

  ‘Ginger tablets for travel sickness,’ Simone explained. ‘I always have some on hand. I take them for flying and for travelling as a passenger in a car for long distances. They work a treat and it says they’re also recommended for morning sickness.’

  ‘Thanks, I’ll give them a try,’ Emily said, opening the box. She took two tablets per the instructions. She suspected that, like most homeopathic or herbal preparations, they might just act as a placebo. But she didn’t care; she just wanted to feel well.

  Twenty minutes later she sat down and devoured a huge plate of bacon, eggs, toast, mushrooms, and grilled tomatoes – all without a hint of nausea. ‘I am eating for two,’ she said when she caught Jake and Simone’s stunned looks. ‘Are you sure those ginger tablets don’t increase the appetite as well?’

  After breakfast they headed over to the cottage, armed with individual lists of tasks.

  Jake was responsible for outside; sweeping the large verandah and patio, positioning some candles and making sure everything was presentable. He was also in charge of making sandwiches for lunch and bringing them over mid-afternoon.

  Meanwhile, Emily and Simone were tasked with the final touches inside. First they wandered through the rooms, making sure they were still happy with the arrangement of the paintings. Then they wiped and cleaned every surface again. Next they set up and tested the EFTPOS machine, and stacked small pyramids of jars of marmalade on a corner of the large desk, the kitchen windowsill, and each of the mantelpieces.

  They finished in the main gallery space by getting out the box of red dots that would be used to indicate when a painting had been sold.

  Emily hoped there would be a sea of little red dots by the end of the night, as much for Simone as herself. She so badly wanted her future sister-in-law’s foray into life as an artist to be a successful experience.

  They had agreed on Emily taking twenty-five percent of proceeds as commission. The prices Simone had put on the pieces were based on the size of the painting, and Emily thought them very reasonable – not so cheap as to sell Simone’s talent short, but not too expensive for a country gallery either. Now they just had to cross their fingers and hope that lots of people would fall in love with the paintings enough to take them home.

  The last thing they had to do before heading back to the house to get ready was to put all the glassware through the dishwasher for a quick rinse.

  Just as they had unpacked the last load and lined all the glasses up on one side of the large bench, Barbara, Thora, Enid, Liz and Emily’s aunt Peggy arrived. After hugs, greetings, and introductions to Simone, they left them to their work. Within moments they had aprons on and the kitchen was abuzz. Emily paused for a few seconds in the doorway. She was wondering where all the hours had gone.

  ‘Come on, that’s our cue,’ Simone said, tugging at her arm. ‘Time to get ready.’ They had fifty minutes to get themselves showered and dressed.

  Jake had already showered when they got back, next was Emily, and then finally Simone. That way Jake and Emily would be ready in plenty of time to have photos taken before guests arrived.

  Ordinarily Emily took just thirty minutes to get showered and ready. Tonight, with her nerves bubbling up again, she was glad they’d allowed her the extra time. Though, she was determined to be ready ten minutes ahead of schedule. Enid had always taught her to be organised.

  Thanks to the wraparound top, Emily was able to do her hair and make-up before getting dressed. Now, as she struggled with the row of small fabric-covered buttons down the side, she regretted Jake having already finished getting ready and gone from the bedroom. She was about to call for help when Simone came to the door, giving a gentle tap and asking if she wanted a hand with the tie.

  ‘Yes, please,’ she replied. ‘And the buttons. My fingers just won’t work,’ she added, throwing her hands up in frustration.

  Within seconds Simone had the buttons done up and was tying a perfect bow with the stiff fabric at Emily’s side. ‘There we are,’ she said, standing back and surveying her work. ‘Perfect. You look gorgeous.’

  ‘Thanks. As do you. God, I’m nervous,’ she added.

  ‘There’s no need to be. You’ll be surrounded by friends and people who just want you to succeed and be happy.’

  Emily smiled. Simone was right. Everyone there tonight would be excited for them, including her mother. She knew there was a chance that Enid would slip into old behaviour patterns at some point, but being a part of this event, it wouldn’t be tonight. For the first time in years she was looking forward to her mother being there. How things change.

  What a wonderful first half of the year it had been, she thought, sighing deeply. She put both her hands to her belly and looked down at her engagement ring.

  ‘Anyway, you’ve done all the hard work,’ Simone continued. ‘It’s now time to sit back and celebrate. I’m the one who should be nervous. What if my paintings don’t sell?’

  ‘Of course they’ll sell; they’re beautiful.’

  ‘So if I agree not to worry about the outcome, will you?’ Simone said. ‘Tonight is all about celebrating.’

  ‘It’s a deal.’

  Suddenly they were leaving the house. On her way out Emily told Grace to stay, before apologising profusely for leaving her behind. She would have loved to include her – they had been through so much together – but she didn’t want the distraction of worrying about her. The next moment they were bundling into the blue ute and driving over to the building. As they approached, she was struck by what a gorgeous scene it made. The verandahs were lit up with candles. Small floodlights illuminated the stone walls, and beyond the cottage, huge ghostly gum tree silhouettes made an
impressive backdrop. They were lucky with the weather; it was set to be an unseasonably warm winter’s evening.

  As they walked the short distance from where they parked, Emily took in the view of the chandelier through the open front door. It was stunning. She was so proud of what they’d done in such a short time. She paused for a moment to swallow back the sudden surge of emotion that had risen in her throat. The sight before her would have been right at home in any glossy home design or interior magazine. She absolutely loved the deep red colour gloss on the door and timber highlights.

  ‘Hey Em, Jake, Simone,’ someone called. The three of them turned around as one. A flash went off. And another. And another.

  ‘Great shots!’ the photographer called, beaming. Andre was a friend of Jake’s from Melbourne. In return for airfares and room at the Wattle Creek Hotel, he had agreed to shoot the launch for free. He had been out a little earlier to capture daylight shots, and had returned for the main event.

  Jake had told Emily he regularly sold images to media outlets in Melbourne, so they were optimistic about getting a photo in at least one of the major interstate papers and a magazine or two. When he’d said this, Emily had wondered why a Melbourne paper would be interested in an unheard-of art gallery out in the South Australian sticks. Only later had she remembered they were also promoting Jake’s business and stone workmanship. Not everything is about you, Emily, she’d chided herself.

  ‘Right, now, Jake, can I have you and Emily at the front door and then one of each of you on your own,’ Andre directed. ‘Brilliant, don’t move. Just like that.’

  Simone made her way inside to check on the kitchen, and for the next few minutes Emily and Jake were posed and told to smile or to lean this way or that way as the camera click, click, clicked away.

  As they finally moved inside, Emily experienced a sense of déjà vu; it was as though all the dreams she’d had of a formal evening were coming together at once.

  When Andre had them pose against the mantelpiece and suggested including the button jar for a bit of fun and a different, quirky look, Emily felt her legs go weak. Luckily she had Jake supporting her.

  Finally he stopped clicking. ‘That’s me done,’ he said. ‘Thanks guys, you’ve been great. I’ve got some really good shots. I’ll go get some images of Simone with her art, and then all the guests as they’re arriving.’

  ‘Thanks so much Andre,’ Jake said.

  Emily checked her watch. There were still fifteen minutes left until everyone was officially meant to be turning up. They were right on schedule.

  ‘I’ll go and get you a drink. You need to keep hydrated,’ Jake said, leaving her standing and gazing around her in wonder.

  The paintings looked even more beautiful in the different light of evening. She turned to see her dad entering the room and striding towards her, followed by her uncle Jim.

  ‘Oh hi Dad.’ They hugged tightly. ‘Uncle Jim,’ she said, hugging him. ‘Thanks so much for coming. Good trip over?’

  Jim kissed her on the cheek. ‘This is incredible, Emily, a real credit to you and Jake. I’m looking forward to meeting him.’

  ‘Yes, it all looks fantastic,’ Des Oliphant said. ‘I’m so proud of you, sweet pea.’

  A lump lodged in Emily’s throat. ‘Thanks Dad. I’m a wee bit stressed,’ she admitted.

  ‘Nothing to be stressed about. You’re amongst friends and family,’ Uncle Jim said. ‘How many have you got coming?’

  ‘Upwards of two hundred and fifty.’

  ‘Wow! No wonder Enid roped Peggy in.’

  ‘So, how does one go about purchasing a piece of this lovely art?’ Des asked.

  ‘You don’t have to do that,’ Emily started.

  ‘Do what? I’ve seen a painting and I’d like to buy it,’ he said, sounding a little miffed.

  ‘Okay. You tell me which one, pay for it, and we put a little red dot next to it to show it’s been sold,’ Emily said. She was suddenly bubbling with excitement.

  ‘I’ll go take a wander around before it gets too crowded,’ Jim said. ‘Great to see you looking so well, Emily, you’re practically glowing. I’ll see you later.’

  ‘Thanks Uncle Jim.’

  Emily and her father shared a look behind Jim’s back.

  ‘It’s okay, we haven’t said a word,’ Des whispered.

  ‘Thanks.’ Emily found herself rubbing her belly gently. ‘Come on and show me which painting you like.’ My first sale!

  ‘In here,’ Des said, leading the way out and across the hall into the opposite room. ‘That one straight ahead,’ he said, pointing at a painting of a vase of deep blue-purple irises.

  ‘A lovely choice,’ Emily said, beaming. She put a red dot on the small label beside it, took the card Des offered, and walked back through the building to her desk. As she processed the payment, she wondered what her mother would think.

  ‘Thanks Dad,’ she said, getting up from her chair and handing him his receipt and card.

  ‘No, thank you,’ Des said enthusiastically as he tucked them into his wallet. ‘And I didn’t tell you how beautiful you look tonight. You’re perfectly radiant,’ he said, beaming at his daughter.

  ‘Thanks Dad,’ Emily said, smiling back. A moment later they were joined by Simone.

  ‘Ah, here you are,’ Simone said. ‘Glass of bubbles.’ She winked as she handed Emily a flute of bubbly liquid, which she knew to be the non-alcoholic apple juice. Emily introduced Simone to her father.

  ‘A pleasure to finally meet you,’ Des said.

  ‘You need a glass each too, so we can toast our first sale,’ Emily said proudly. She nodded at the tray of drinks in the hand of the waiter who had just materialised beside them. The CWA had organised all the wait staff – their children and nieces and nephews, by the looks of their young age.

  ‘Oh, really? Wow,’ Simone said. ‘But there’s no one here yet.’

  ‘Dad’s just bought Blue Irises.’

  ‘Oh, that’s great, thank you,’ Simone said, suddenly a little bashful.

  ‘The pleasure is all mine. I love your work, but I’m certainly not the connoisseur of art that my daughter here is,’ Des said, wrapping an arm around Emily and kissing her on the cheek before reaching for a glass.

  When they each had a drink in hand – beer for Des and champagne for Simone – Emily raised her glass and said, ‘To a talented artist, happy customers, and a successful exhibition.’

  ‘Hear, hear,’ Simone and Des said. They clinked glasses and then sipped their drinks.

  ‘Well, I’d better mingle and leave you to all your other guests,’ Des said after a few moments.

  Emily turned around and was surprised to see people beginning to mill around her. She was swept into hug after hug and effusive greetings with people she knew. Most were locals, but then she spied Karen and Tom from Whyalla hovering in the hall just outside the room. She raced over to make sure they felt welcome.

  ‘Wonderful to see you both. Thanks for coming so far. Did you find us okay?’

  ‘Yep, no worries at all,’ they said together. ‘Having a map included on the invitation was a brilliant idea.’

  ‘The chandelier looks incredible. It’s the perfect choice,’ Karen said, pointing.

  ‘Grab a glass and some food and have a look around,’ Emily said. ‘I’d better keep on mingling.’ She felt a little breathless, and a bit guilty at not being able to spend time talking. But she wanted to greet as many people as possible and make sure everyone felt welcome. There was Nathan and Sarah. She rushed over to greet them and noticed Grant and Stacy Anderson were behind them. And Doris from Mitre 10. Bob Stanley and his wife waved from the corner. Golly, she was going to be busy. Hopefully everyone would understand.

  The room filled up and Emily gradually made her way out to find Jake and see if any of his Melbourne friends that she didn’t know had arrived. She was further surprised to find each of the rooms and the hall quite tightly packed. On her way she said hi to Steve and Stan, who h
ad to step aside to let her pass. It was becoming difficult to move through. Thankfully the waiters seemed to be doing well enough because everyone appeared to have a glass in one hand and a serviette in the other. The whole place was abuzz with lively, cheerful chatter.

  The kitchen was a hive of activity. People bustled about constructing and plating canapés, putting food in and out of ovens, and emptying and replenishing trays of food and drink. Wait staff came and went. ‘All good?’ she whispered to Barbara.

  ‘Yep. Have you seen David yet?’

  ‘No, but I’ll keep my eye out.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  ‘Mum? Thora? How are you going?’

  ‘Too busy to stop,’ Enid said, looking harried and waving her away.

  ‘Everything is going well, dear,’ Thora said, the picture of cool and calm.

  Emily smiled and kept moving.

  There was still no sign of Jake. She made her way back towards the front door, still unable to quite believe how many people had come.

  Halfway down the hall, she spotted him standing alone on the verandah. As she stepped outside, the fresh winter evening enveloped her.

  ‘Darling,’ she said, sidling up to Jake and threading an arm through his. ‘Can you believe how many people have turned up?’

  ‘It’s great, isn’t it? Is it getting too stuffy in there yet? Do I need to turn the fires off?’ he asked.

  ‘I think we’d better, if you don’t mind.’

  ‘Not at all. Are you happy to stand here and meet and greet for a while?’

  ‘Okay. But hang on. Wait a sec – here’s David. Barbara was looking for him,’ Emily said. ‘What’s he carrying?’

  ‘You’ll see,’ Jake said.

  Emily looked at Jake, but when he only returned a grin and a shrug, she turned back to watch David climb the steps and make his way towards them. ‘What’s this?’ she asked. In his hands was a huge iced cake.

  ‘Dessert,’ Jake said.

  ‘No celebration is complete without the cutting of the cake,’ David said formally.