The Sunnyvale Girls

by Fiona Palmer

  Red flushed across Jimmy’s face and even reached his ears. He dug his hands into his jean pockets.

  ‘Come on, Jimmy, I’m absolutely delighted. Surely I deserve a hug for all the ground work I did in Italy.’

  He smiled and opened his arms. ‘What ground work?’ he asked as she stepped into his embrace.

  Flick felt safe in his arms, protected. Was this what it felt like to have a real dad? She squeezed him tight before letting him go. ‘Yeah, you know, a nudge nudge here and a hint hint there. She just needed to know that it was fine to have what she wanted. Life’s short, you know?’ Flick picked up her sunglasses and put on her green John Deere cap. ‘I think seeing me with Stefano may have helped with that too.’

  ‘Well, I’m glad he’s coming here. Now I can give him the third degree and see what he’s really like. Not all this sweet and nice stuff you and Toni keep spruiking.’

  Flick gave the computer one last glance; she’d get back to Stefano this afternoon once she’d talked to Mum. She slapped Jimmy’s arm as she headed to the front door. ‘We didn’t exaggerate, Jimmy.’

  ‘What? He couldn’t possibly be as cool as me.’

  He flicked her hat off her head but she caught it on the way down. They shoved each other while trying to get their boots on; Jimmy fell back onto the wall and Flick ended up on her knees, laughing.

  ‘Race you to the shed,’ he called, sprinting off, his boots thudding across the verandah.

  While Jimmy was young at heart, his body wasn’t. He didn’t stand a chance as Flick rounded him up. Even in her work boots she glided past, chuckles erupting from her throat while the dogs barked and joined in the fun.

  She ran around the edge of the shed and leant against the tyre of the tractor, quickly trying to catch her breath. ‘What took you so long?’

  Jimmy stopped and bent over, breathing like a smoker. ‘I’m going to regret that tomorrow. Probably pulled a few muscles.’

  ‘Come on, old man, don’t we have work to do?’ She climbed in after lifting Fella up.

  ‘You cheeky —’

  The rest of Jimmy’s words were lost in the slamming of the door. She pulled a face as he gingerly walked to the header. He slapped his backside and she snorted. Their code for ‘kiss my arse’.

  Flick warmed up the tractor, reached for the two-way, and waited until Jimmy was inside the header. He would have Gypsy in there too. ‘So, boss, where to?’

  ‘Meet you at the new land. Can you open the gate and have the fence down for me?’ came his reply.

  ‘Roger, ten four, old yella out,’ she teased.

  Old yella was what they called the tractor she was driving. It had been yellow once, but now it was faded and rusty. Still reliable, though – they didn’t make them like this any more.

  Jimmy’s voice crackled out over the old speaker in the tractor. ‘Maggie, you there?’

  ‘Yes, Jimmy,’ came her reply from the house.

  ‘We’re ready for that ride.’

  ‘Roger, big boss, old duck out,’ she said.

  Flick burst out laughing. ‘Good one, Nan.’

  Life was finally back on track. Mum was back eating meals with Nan and they talked like they’d used to. And best of all, Flick wasn’t stuck in the middle any more.

  She took off down the back track, Jimmy following, until they hit the gravel road that went through their farm. Here Flick stopped and opened the double gate into their neighbours’ paddock – it was a tight fit and she’d have to direct Jimmy through. Every harvest they went through McKenna’s paddocks. It was handy having great neighbours.

  Nan came charging through with the ute, drove through the bush to overtake Jimmy so she could get in front and open the rest of the gates for him on their neighbours’ farm. Flick waved as she drove past, following the rough track along the fence line.

  She wiped the sweat from under her hat and indicated for Jimmy to lift the comb and come slightly left. With an inch or so either side, he crept through and followed Maggie while Flick finished shutting the old gate.

  Flick took the nature reserve track to get to their barley paddock and made her way to the fence that they shared with their neighbours. She could see Nan driving through McKenna’s paddock, scaring his sheep towards the far corner.

  ‘Fancy meeting you here,’ said Flick to Maggie as she began unhitching the wire from the posts that held the boundary fence. Two massive rocks sat by each post. Farmers’ tool number thirty-two.

  ‘Ready to go?’ asked Nan.

  ‘Yep.’

  Nan helped pull the wire down so it was flat on the ground. Quickly Flick put the rock on it. They did the same at the other post just as Jimmy approached. Nan took out a hankie from her pocket and started waving it at Jimmy, as if his red header was an angry bull. ‘Olé!’ she cried.

  Flick giggled while Jimmy drove the header straight through and continued into the paddock, harvesting the barley while Flick righted the fence after Nan had brought the ute through.

  Fella jumped on the back of the ute and Flick got in while they waited for Jimmy to collect enough for a sample.

  ‘It’s so good to see you and Toni so happy. It makes this old duck’s heart swell,’ said Maggie, reaching for Flick’s hand and giving it a squeeze. Her eyes sparkled with joy and her face rippled with lines as she smiled.

  ‘And I’m glad you and Mum are back to normal again.’

  ‘Yes, so am I. She asked me last night after dinner to tell her about him, when he arrived on Sunnyvale. It was so good to share that with her and for Toni to be interested. I just wish Rocco had taken the news better.’

  ‘I agree. Do you think Mum is handling it okay?’

  ‘She seems to be. Maybe being with Jimmy, she’s happy and isn’t giving it much thought,’ said Maggie.

  ‘How about you, Nan? Are you still thinking about Rocco?’ asked Flick.

  Maggie pulled a loose thread on the hankie in her lap, her head bent down. ‘Oh, I will always think of him, love. I have done my whole life, so why stop now?’ She gave Flick a weak smile. ‘But I do wonder what he’s thinking of all this. Is he curious about Toni and me? Will he ever want to see us?’

  ‘Do you think he’ll ever make contact? He knows where we live. Or should we try again?’

  Maggie shook her head. ‘No, I don’t think we should. He knows now, he knows where we are, so the ball is in his court. But I don’t think we should wait. We need to move on with our lives.’

  Flick agreed but she couldn’t help wondering how Nan had tried to move on with her life fifty-three years ago.

  35

  MAGGIE buried down into her bed, hiding under the sheet. Last night she’d gone to bed before dinner, complaining she didn’t feel well. It killed her not to sit across from Rocco but she had to do it to keep her mother from getting suspicious. During the night she’d also taken some pepper, which she started smelling in the morning to cause sneezing and red eyes. As an added precaution, she kept her hands on her forehead, hoping to keep it feeling hot. Her stomach gurgled. She wished her parents and Charlie would leave for church so she could have breakfast.

  Maggie smelt her mother’s suffocating perfume before she heard her. She tugged down her sheet, keeping her eyes droopy.

  ‘Margaret, are you awake?’ Phyllis felt for Maggie’s temperature. ‘You do feel hot. Do you want me to stay home?’

  Maggie slowly shook her head and tried to croak out some words. ‘No. It’s just a flu. I’ll be fine. I just want to sleep.’ She let her eyes close and tucked herself into her pillow.

  ‘All right, then. I’ve left some chicken broth on the stovetop. Try and have some.’

  ‘Yes, Mother. Thank you.’

  ‘We are heading off now. Charlie is rather excited to see Valerie again. She’s a lovely girl.’

  Maggie knew her mother approved of Valerie and her background. She was from a wealthy family and her father worked in government. It was the cherry on the cake.

  ‘Say hello
to Arthur for me,’ said Maggie and watched her mother smile and then leave.

  Charlie stuck his head in a moment later. ‘All good, sis. We’re leaving now.’ Maggie propped herself up on her elbows and Charlie laughed. ‘You do look sick.’

  She pulled a face but then smiled. ‘Thanks, Charlie.’ He was giving her the best gift ever.

  ‘I’ll try hard to keep them away for as long as I can and when we get back I’ll drive around so you know we’re home.’ He winked and ducked off before she could thank him again.

  Straining her ears, she heard the ute leave, and gave it two minutes before jumping out of bed to get cleaned up.

  They had completely moved into the new house and Maggie did love the space. She had a big room to herself and it didn’t creak like her old one, nor did it let the wind in. The high ceilings helped give it that spacious feeling, and the dining room was big enough for a large table. No more sitting crammed together around their old small one, knees practically bumping the person opposite, with no room to put a serving dish between their plates. And most importantly, Rocco had helped build it. His hands had been on every brick.

  She slipped on her pale-blue button-up blouse and long A-line skirt and then had breakfast. Once she’d washed her face, put on some make-up and brushed her hair, she skipped out the house and towards the cottage. Father had told the men not to work, just to enjoy their last few days on the farm. ‘Go shooting or go for a ride on Contractor. Relax,’ he’d said.

  When she got to the cottage, Rocco was sitting on the step outside his little tin room. Maggie stopped running and slowed to an elegant walk. Rocco’s arms were resting on his knees and he wore a singlet with braces for his pants. The sight of him made her breathless. His body glistened in the morning sunlight and only made her nervousness rise. He saw her and stood quickly, walking towards her.

  ‘Maggie.’

  ‘Morning, Rocco,’ she said shyly and glanced around.

  ‘Giulio has gone for a ride on Contractor. He said he will be gone till lunch.’

  Maggie nodded as they stood watching each other. ‘I can’t believe you leave tomorrow. I can’t bear to think about it,’ she said. Too late – the emotions swamped her and tears threatened.

  ‘No, amore mio.’ My love. Rocco moved to take her hands into his. ‘Don’t cry.’

  A tear fell before she could stop it. ‘I wish I could go with you to Italy. Maybe we could run away?’ She looked up into his beautiful brown eyes. Hoping. Dreaming.

  Rocco shook his head as he thumbed away the tear. ‘No, I must return home.’

  ‘But we’d be together and that’s all we need,’ she said. She couldn’t imagine a life without Rocco. For so long she’d had to hide her feelings for him.

  ‘What about Charlie and your parents? You would miss them. I cannot let you give all this up for me. What would they do if they caught us? What would we do? Where would we go?’

  Maggie turned away, ripping herself from his arms so he couldn’t see the sobs starting to take over her body.

  ‘Don’t you care about me?’ She felt as if the Clydesdales were tearing out her heart with a rough rope, surging forward like they did when digging up the paddock. Any moment now she’d hear it pop from her chest. Maybe then it wouldn’t ache so much.

  ‘Maggie, Maggie.’ He wrapped his arms around her from behind, holding her against his chest, his lips by her ear. ‘How could you ever think that? I love you.’ As if to show how much he really meant it, he said it in Italian too. ‘Ti amo.’

  She went limp in his arms. Oh, how she’d missed his touch. Stolen hugs here, sneaking kisses there; it’s all they’d ever had. Now she could truly be his. Spinning in his arms, she looked up into his eyes.

  ‘I love you too, Rocco. I don’t know how I’m going to go on without you.’

  Rocco smiled sadly. ‘You will, because you are strong, amore mio. I will write to you and you know I am coming back. We will get our own land and we can start a life together. Think to the future. Our future.’ Rocco kissed her tear-stained cheeks, her nose, her eyes. ‘I love the blue of your eyes, just like the skies here.’

  Maggie grinned. His kisses and words were making the pain ease. She reached up for his face, holding it still. They gazed at each other as if trying to memorise every line and contour.

  ‘Let’s not talk of sad things now.’

  She stood up onto her toes, her lips meeting his. She sighed softly as he squeezed her against him, their kisses growing deeper. An electric thrill ran through her body when their tongues touched. Her body was alive, burning with a need for more. Maggie pulled away.

  ‘Come with me.’ She took his hand and led him into the empty cottage. Father had bought Mother a new bed for the house so the old one remained in the cottage. Maggie had plans for it, and had smuggled an old sheet out of the new house from under her mother’s nose.

  ‘In here,’ she said, guiding him into her parents’ old room. The door squeaked shut.

  Maggie let go of his hand and started to undo the buttons on her blouse. Rocco stood beside her, watching her fumbling fingers. When she’d undone the last one he took her fingers and kissed them. Not rushing, he bent to kiss her again. Maggie felt like she was floating on air. Rocco made her forget her surroundings and he made her feel alive. With her hands pressed flat against his chest she moved them up and flicked off his braces. Rocco arched back and whipped his singlet off over his head in a smooth motion. Maggie didn’t know where it landed, as her eyes were glued to the half-naked man in front of her. This would be her first time but she was ready. She loved Rocco with every fibre and cell of her body. She wanted to be with him, to reinforce their love.

  Tenderly she touched him. His skin was warm and his chest strong and tight. Low in her belly the fire burned; it wanted more. Maggie shrugged off her blouse and laid it over the metal end of the bed. Mother wouldn’t be impressed if she got it dirty. She did the same with her skirt, then stood before him in her undergarments. Rocco dropped his pants, standing only in his worn cotton briefs.

  Maggie felt shy in just her cotton bloomers and pointed bra, especially when Rocco stared at her with such desire. No one had ever looked at her this way, but it mirrored how she felt.

  She unclasped her bra, letting the straps slide down her arms.

  ‘Oh, dio mio!’ he muttered.

  Next went her cotton bloomers, and Rocco followed her lead until they stood naked in front of each other. Having three brothers, Maggie had seen the male anatomy, knew what it looked like and had giggled with her friends about it, but this was completely different. He was hard and she was fascinated. She felt wet with wanting. He’d brought this feeling on many times before with their stolen kisses and groping moments but now, now the hunger was more like an ache. She wanted to be with him.

  Rocco stepped in and reached for her waist. As his mouth found hers, Maggie had no second thoughts. None at all.

  Afterwards, Rocco stroked her hair as they lay curled up together. ‘What are you thinking, amore mio? Not too painful?’

  Maggie shook her head against his chest. ‘No,’ she said with a smile. ‘It was beautiful.’ She’d been so consumed by Rocco she didn’t remember feeling much pain at all. Her fingers played along his chest, through his dark scattering of hair.

  ‘How long have we got?’ he asked.

  ‘Charlie was hoping to keep them away for lunch.’

  He nodded and kissed her forehead. Instead of discussing the elephant in the room, they took a different path and dreamt out loud. They talked of having their own farm and how their life would be. Maggie dreamt of being on Sunnyvale, but she knew her mother would never allow it. But wherever Rocco was, that would be her new home.

  The cottage was quiet except for their voices. The morning passed while they discussed their possible future. A name for their farm caused much debate.

  ‘I still like Maggie’s Hill the best,’ said Rocco.

  ‘What if we have flat land?’ she teased. �
�We could call it Sunnyvale two? When you build our beautiful home, I will help you,’ said Maggie. She’d be right beside him for everything.

  ‘With many rooms we can fill with children,’ he said eagerly. ‘If we have a girl, we can call her Phyllis.’

  ‘No,’ scoffed Maggie, propping herself up so she could gaze into his eyes. ‘I’d rather call our girl Charlie, or even name her after your mother.’

  ‘Antonia? You’d do that?’

  ‘Of course, Rocco. You’ve told me so much about your family, I feel as if I know them. I’d even call her Francesca after your little sister.’

  His eyes saddened. ‘I miss her so. I have been gone for so long.’ Maggie snuggled closer. ‘I hope Mama still has her garden. I can see her watering with the old bucket and Francesca eating peas while Mama’s not looking.’

  In four years his little sister would have become a young woman. She could even be married.

  ‘What do you miss the most?’ she asked.

  ‘That easy. Mama’s polenta and the cappelletti in broth. Lots of pasta and . . . legumi?’ After much discussion, Maggie eventually worked out he meant chickpeas and lentils. ‘In Italy they are called la carne dei poveri, “poor man’s meat”. My padre hunts wild pig, gets ham sometimes, rabbit too.’

  Maggie tried to imagine his father walking a land unfamiliar to her and hunting much like they did. Rocco sighed contentedly.

  She smiled. ‘You sound so close to your mama.’

  ‘Una buona mamma vale cento maestre.’

  ‘What’s that mean?’

  ‘Old Italian words. “A good mama is worth a hundred teachers.”’

  Maggie wondered if her mother fitted into that saying. She had taught Maggie how to sew, cook and behave like a lady, after all.

  ‘May I ask you again what it was like at war?’ she said softly. She often wondered what her brothers had been through. Would Rocco be up to telling her now?

  He stiffened slightly, his chin brushing past her hair as he nodded. ‘It was awful. Watching friends die by me.’ He closed his eyes as if trying to shut out the vivid memories. Maggie tilted her head back and kissed his cheek before nuzzling against his chest. She wanted to know everything about Rocco, even the darkest, hardest parts.