House for All Seasons

by Jenn J. McLeod

  ‘Do I?’ He smiled. ‘I am. I’m going now before I change my mind about being a nice guy.’

  ‘You are a nice guy, and an even better friend, but very mysterious.’

  A mischievous grin overwhelmed his face. ‘Mystery is a beautiful thing, Sara, but so is truth. You love Will. Tell him. What’s stopping you?’

  ‘He’s settled. He has his children and his memories. They’re a family and they have their own routine. I don’t want to be the one to shake his world when he seems to be in such a good place.’

  ‘A world shaken is not always a bad thing. Nature shakes a tree to knock the bad fruit to the ground so all the good bits flourish. Seems to me you have a decision to make. You’re either brave enough to tell Will everything and make the most of what you’ve got going on, or you do the cowardly lion act. And I’m pretty sure the song says, “I am woman, hear me roar,” not “I am woman, watch me run.”’

  Sara walked over and kissed Elliott, this time on the lips, a slow lingering kiss, before she pushed back and said, ‘You are delightfully unexpected. Thank you.’

  He laughed. ‘Okay, now I definitely have to go.’

  17

  Sara woke early the next day to find a note on the kitchen table.

  Elliott was gone for good. His note explained:

  I’m a carnie by birth and by nature. Moving from town to town with a cast of colourful, if somewhat seedy, characters is what I’m meant to do. It has a certain romance, and we all deserve a little romance in our lives.

  ‘Yes we do,’ she said, folding the note with some regret.

  After breakfast, she geared up and cycled towards town. On the day they’d met, Elliott had said she was a woman on a mission. That was now true and there was something she needed to do—something not on any list, a decision to make. Without Elliott to race up heartbreak hill to Cedar Cutters Gorge, Sara opted for the river, ending up at the bridge where she’d fished with Will and the kids.

  Time to test Will’s theory.

  To her relief, the first thought as she walked her bike along the track was of Will and the children; the day Jazzy had unknowingly carried live worms and Jasper had actually caught a giant fish—even bigger than Russell Wilson’s dad’s fish. The sadness and guilt surrounding Willow’s accident had faded, replaced with new, happier memories—this was now the place where Will had tried to kiss her, and then asked her to consider sticking around. It seemed fitting that she would make her decision here.

  What decision?

  There was only one.

  The best for everyone right now.

  *

  ‘You saved me a phone call,’ Will shouted from the veranda as Sara slammed the car door closed. ‘I just got home. Was about to pour myself a beer. How about—’

  ‘I’ve come to say goodbye, Will.’

  Good girl. No beating around the bush. Surely that deserves a place on THE DARN LIST.

  ‘Sure you have.’ Will’s face was still smiling, as if she was joking.

  Sara fought to sound determined. ‘I’m not staying. I’m leaving tomorrow.’

  Will’s body suddenly caved in, his shoulders dropped. ‘But why?’

  ‘I have to be honest with you.’

  ‘Good, but will you at least come inside, Sara?’

  ‘Jasper and Jaz …?’

  ‘They’re with their grandparents. Please, Sara, even if it’s just for a minute.’

  Poor Will. He sounded so desperate. Sara knew she should say no, keep it quick, easy, painless. If she wasn’t careful, she could change her mind. This was the hardest decision she’d had to make since putting her mum in the hospice. Every other decision since seemed to have been made for her: marrying, miscarrying, divorcing. Even coming back to Calingarry Crossing hadn’t been her decision alone, and with Poppy’s text message last night to confirm she was on her way—better late than never—Sara had to believe her decision to go now was the right one. And yet her legs seemed to be moving all by themselves towards the house.

  ‘Just for a bit,’ she said.

  Will opened the door and waited for Sara to pass. He seemed suddenly nervous, not like Will at all. ‘Can I get you anything? Water or—?’

  ‘No, but I will sit.’

  ‘I have no problem with that.’ The cheeky wheelchair gag was the same, but the grin that usually accompanied it failed to show.

  Sara followed him into the living room. ‘You like to make jokes.’

  ‘I like to be honest. This chair is part of who I am. I don’t pretend to be anything different. But this isn’t about me. This is about you leaving. Talk to me.’

  Sara was now used to seeing Will transfer himself from wheelchair to seat in one fluid motion.

  He was so independent.

  He was so wonderful.

  He patted the cushion beside him and looked at Sara. ‘If there’s one thing life has taught me, it’s to say what needs to be said when it needs to be said. The truth can hurt, but not telling the truth hurts more in the end.’

  ‘I know.’ Sara perched tentatively on the edge of the sofa, her fingers tangling into a knot in her lap. ‘I didn’t tell you the truth twenty years ago.’

  Will looked surprised. ‘The truth about what?’

  ‘Sounds so silly now, but I watched you from a distance for so long. After you left town, I followed your career.’ She gave a little snort. ‘The whole town did, naturally, but I followed everything—your life, your marriage, your children. I was the stalker you never knew, but only because your success brought colour to my world. I was stuck here in Calingarry Crossing and you were my pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. To you we were mates, but I loved you as much as I knew how back then. When your parents sent you to Sydney, it broke my heart.’

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ He prised her fingers apart and took one hand in his. She knew she should pull away, stand up, leave. Instead, she felt the warmth in his hands comfort her, willing her to speak.

  ‘We were mates, Will. I felt I was losing so much. I didn’t want my silly infatuation ruining our friendship. Besides, there was a tad too much competition for my liking. You couldn’t see me through the forest of pretty girls.’

  ‘Sara Fraser.’ His hand went to her face. ‘I saw you. I liked that you were quiet. I liked quiet. That was the problem with Ebony and me. And while we’re being honest, I haven’t been entirely open with you either,’ Will’s voice croaked. ‘Are you sure you don’t want a drink? I could sure do with one.’

  ‘Maybe a small one. I’ll get it.’

  ‘Bottom shelf’s got the—’

  ‘Yeah, yeah, the coldest are always on the bottom shelf. I know, I know, you told me already.’

  She returned with two stubbies and handed one to Will.

  ‘So, you’ve never talked to me about Ebony. I never expected that you would. You lost the love of your life. I understand that—’

  ‘No, Sara, that’s just what I need to tell you. That’s everyone else’s version of the story. It wasn’t like that.’ Will swigged a mouthful of beer, wiping the back of his hand over his lips. ‘We hadn’t said anything to anyone, but we’d already decided to separate. That night, the night of the accident, had been our last official football duty of the season. We had a few sponsor commitments and contracts to consider, but Ebony had already moved on.’

  ‘Moved on? As in she left you?’

  ‘No, she wasn’t brave enough to kiss her lifestyle goodbye, just her sleeping arrangements.’ Will wedged a cushion behind his back and leaned into it, readjusting his legs with his hands. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. ‘When Ebony and I married it wasn’t because she loved me, only I was too much of a bloody boofhead to see it at the time. A bit like a roo in the headlights, the whole celebrity sports star thing one dazzling event after another. We both became so caught up in the glamour and excitement there wasn’t any time for us. We never had time to get to know each other. Not the real us.’

  He paused, his eyes
looking straight ahead. Sara wished he’d look at her. But then again, maybe it was better he didn’t.

  ‘If only we’d slowed down she would’ve realised I wasn’t into the same stuff. I loved footy all right, but not the spotlight. I hated the celebrity bit. I’d raised the matter of backing away from all the hype a long time before that night. I told her I wanted to get our lives back to being our own. We fought—a lot—and this is the bloody life I ended up with.’ He gave the wheelchair a shove.

  ‘You never told anyone this? Not even your mother?’

  ‘Bloody hell no! I’m only telling you this because, Sara, I’ve made mistakes, and I’ve paid the price. I was kind of hoping things were finally looking up when you arrived in town. Now you tell me you’re leaving, punishing me because I didn’t notice you when you were sixteen?’ Frustration nudged his voice up a notch.

  ‘I’m not leaving to punish you, and this isn’t anything to do with being sixteen. We’re not sixteen anymore. That’s the whole point.’

  ‘There’s more to this, isn’t there? Tell me. Don’t make the same mistake again and clam up. There’s no forest of pretty girls to blame anymore. Only one beautiful woman. You, in case you need reminding. I’m here. If there’s something to say, tell me.’

  Sara reclaimed her hand from his and sandwiched them both between her knees, trapping them. She didn’t trust that they wouldn’t wrap themselves around Will all by themselves.

  ‘Your mother said something.’

  There was relief in the long sigh Will pushed out. ‘What’s Caroline done this time?’

  ‘She warned me not to hurt you. She said—’

  ‘Don’t tell me. It was all about the kids, right?’

  Sara nodded.

  ‘I knew it, and I’m not being mean. My parents have been incredibly supportive—always. But they need to let me live my life. I know if it wasn’t for them I wouldn’t have got a scholarship, gone to Sydney … Well, you know the rest. Guilt now consumes them, though. They think they’re to blame for all this.’ He slammed closed fists on both his knees. ‘They’re also terrified of being alone. They’ve settled into a routine and a life: me, the house, the grandchildren. Frigging hell, I should’ve seen this coming.’

  ‘Seen what coming?’

  ‘They—and by they I mean Caroline—see you as a threat.’

  ‘Me? A threat?’

  ‘She thinks you’ve come to snatch the three of us away, cast your evil spell, kidnap the children and boil them up in the witch’s cauldron out there at that spooky house of yours.’ He tried to make her laugh, but Sara wasn’t in the mood. ‘Caroline’s scared, maybe even a little jealous.’

  ‘No one’s ever been jealous of me.’

  ‘Well, look again. Mum and Dad have never come close to having to share me or the kids with anyone—until now, until you. And if you won’t say it, I will.’

  ‘Say what?’

  ‘We need each other. I think I’ve always loved you.’ Will dragged her hands out from between her knees and held them in his own. ‘I think I loved you twenty years ago, but my life wasn’t my own. Other people had plans for me and, well, I didn’t know what to do with those feelings back then anyway. I do now, though.’ He pulled her closer. ‘I dare you to tell me you don’t feel the same way.’

  ‘I can’t.’ Sara baulked, pulled away. She had to leave before she changed her mind, but Will’s grip was tightening.

  ‘Don’t run away. I told you before I can’t chase you, and I don’t want to hurt you.’ He yanked again and she fell back into him.

  ‘Be careful or I will hurt you,’ she said.

  ‘I told you I’m not that breakable—not on the outside.’

  ‘I’m serious, Will.’

  ‘So am I.’

  Why did Sara feel like she was losing the battle? She closed her eyes, letting the little-boy-lost expression tugging at her heart fade to black. ‘I don’t know how to deal with any of this. Coming back here has been life changing in a way I never expected. I have a lot to deal with and I hate saying that. It makes me sound so selfish.’ Despair seeped into her voice. She had to get this over with and get out. ‘I look at you and your children and I am desperate to know what to say or do. When Caroline said how upset you were about what I’d done at the cinema—’

  ‘Hold on a minute.’ Will sat back, confusion screwing up his face. ‘I didn’t tell Caroline anything about that night.’

  ‘She said you told her.’

  ‘Frigging hell, Sara. As if. That would have been bloody Noelene Jenkins. I saw her in the foyer. That was partly why I got so upset. The other reason is because I’m plain stupid. You were only trying to help. I’m too proud for my own good sometimes.’

  ‘That’s just it, Will, I don’t know how to help you. I cared for my parents for years. I did everything for them. Caring is second nature to me. But I know I have limits. It broke my heart the day the doctors told me I wasn’t good enough, that they needed more care than I could give them.

  ‘Your mother said the same. She said I wasn’t strong enough. What if you fell out of your chair? She’s right—I’m not physically capable of supporting you, like I wasn’t capable of looking after my mother. It’s only going to end the same way: someone telling me I’m not enough for you. I can’t care for you.’

  ‘Well, if you’re only wanting to care for me, forget it. Go. Now! I’m not looking for a carer. I’m looking for a partner to share my life. Besides, you can’t give up on us because you think something might happen a certain way. You have to believe. Hope isn’t lost; I don’t care what you say. No one can take hope away from you if you hold on tight enough.’

  Inside, Sara was tearing in two. Her heart wanted to believe in the fairytale, the happy-ever-after, but her head wouldn’t let her.

  ‘Will, please, you have to know, being with you makes me happier than I’ve been in … well, forever. You were right about me not seeing the chair, too. When I see you here in your house and in the café, you are your own man and you’ve established a good life for you and your children. What you have here is independence. What I have here is too much history. I was trapped here with my parents all that time. I promised myself I’d never come back. I can’t.’

  ‘Well, there’s that frigging kybosh.’ Will’s chest heaved. He held the breath for a few seconds then exhaled an exasperated sigh. ‘If you’re suggesting I leave Calingarry Crossing … Sara, I can’t. I’m sorry. The kids are still too young and they’re settling into things.’

  Will is letting go, Sara thought.

  He was letting her go.

  ‘I’m not asking you to. I know you can’t. That’s what your mother said.’

  ‘Stop referring to my mother. I will be having a nice long sit down and a chat with Sweet Caroline later and reminding her I’m nearly forty. I’m a big boy.’

  Not so big you couldn’t stop yourself telling her about my cancer.

  Sara knew he wanted her to smile, but she didn’t have a smile in her.

  ‘I’m not out to trap you here. I want to love you, Sara. But everything you’re saying is telling me that maybe we are twenty years too late. Just tell me you genuinely want to go and I’ll say goodbye.’

  ‘It’s not about wanting to go. It’s about not being able to stay.’

  ‘Okay, you win.’ Will held up both his hands in an exaggerated surrender to let Sara push herself up. ‘I give up, but I don’t get it, Sara. I really hoped—’

  ‘Hope!’ Sara hated the word. ‘I do know about hope. It’s what all those oncology doctors take from you, and despite what you think, it doesn’t matter how hard you hold on. It’s not enough they take away a breast; they have to take away hope with their bluntness and ambiguous comments about life expectancy. I can tell you which one is easier to survive.’

  ‘We both know tragedy, you more than anyone, Sara. I know that.’

  Will got himself back into his chair and she wondered if he’d done it to bolster himself, make him feel m
ore capable, more normal. A wheelchair was no different to any other prosthetic. She understood that.

  ‘Life’s not been good to you, and I know how paralysing hope can be when you have to put yourself in someone else’s hands. But Sara, everyone’s dying. For some of us, death doesn’t happen all at once. It happens bit by bit, numbing you and making you wonder if maybe things would’ve been better if you’d gone outright.’ He raised his hand, as if knowing Sara was about to speak. ‘Then someone comes into your life and makes you feel worthwhile again, and everything is worthwhile again. Miracles can happen.

  ‘You don’t even have to stay out at the house. You could stay here, in the spare room, see how we live. I was dying here before you came back. You saved me. Please don’t go—not yet. Help me survive the summer, Sara. Give me hope at least. Maybe even stay and let me save you.’

  Tall Poppy

  18

  Poppy Hamilton was drunk, and not just a little bit. Poppy didn’t do anything by halves. If she was drunk, she was definitely big-time, major hangover drunk.

  ‘Bugger you, Johnno,’ she cursed, launching her absurdly high stilettos one by one at the tapestry-upholstered sofa, missing completely. Almost tripping in her struggle to release herself from the confines of her dress, she peeled away the borrowed sequined frock, abandoning it in a crumpled heap on the living room floor, and staggered towards the bathroom. ‘I wore this bloody dress for you. Why couldn’t you get out of those jungle greens and put on a bloody suit for the biggest night of your daughter’s career?’

  Flinching from the intensity of the bathroom’s halogen lights, she lunged forward, both hands gripping the washbasin. Then she dragged her mascara-stained face up to the mirror. A pathetic Pierrot clown stared back.

  ‘Welcome to the pantomime that is my life,’ she slurred and waved one arm in a theatrical bow, grabbing the basin to avoid falling a second time, her contemptuous cackle echoing in the bathroom. ‘Did you really think he’d come?’ She squinted hard in the mirror. ‘You are a fucking clown. Look at you. Anyone would think you shot a person, not the best bloody current affairs feature of the year. This is your moment, Poppy. You haven’t just broken through the glass ceiling, you’ve blown it away, baby.’ Ignoring her shaking legs, she pushed up on both arms to stand tall and defiant. Sadly, the words ‘Good on you, girl’ were the last she managed before throwing up the evening’s expensive four-course meal and champagne.