Critical Condition

by Nicki Edwards

  Liam was unlike any man she’d ever met. Sure, he was a shameless flirt and annoying at times, but he was genuine, funny, warmhearted and kind. And it didn’t hurt that he was incredibly sexy and easy on the eye. In short, he was everything Adam wasn’t and Poppy already felt like they’d connected in a way she never had with anyone else.

  Poppy exhaled heavily. Adam. The jerk hadn’t called. No message. Nothing. She hadn’t expected much, but she’d expected more than what she’d received. The least he could have done was let her know he was sorry her father had died. She told herself she didn’t need him to care, but it wasn’t that easy to brush five years of her life under the carpet.

  The issue was, as far as Adam knew, their relationship status hadn’t changed and he’d expect her to be in New York when he arrived at the beginning of the month. Her mouth went dry as she imagined his reaction when he showed up and she wasn’t there.

  What would he do? It was his apartment so he’d probably toss out all her stuff and change the locks. Which left her effectively homeless. It wasn’t like she had a multitude of friends offering her somewhere to live.

  A crazy idea floated around and tapped on her brain, vying for her attention. She batted it away, but like a helium balloon, it bounced back in front of her face. What was stopping her from staying in Australia? Could she do it? Move home?

  Other than Adam and the apartment, the only thing tying her to New York was her job. If she resigned, how many people would even notice she was gone? One or two?

  But as Poppy crossed the border into Queensland she remembered why moving home wasn’t an option. Her mother.

  Chapter 19

  When Poppy turned into her mother’s street late Monday morning, she was filled with a sinking sensation. A moving van was parked out the front of her mother’s house. She climbed from the hire car and stretched. Other than magpies warbling in the gum trees, it was eerily quiet.

  Turning her face toward the warm winter sun Poppy inhaled deeply and prayed for strength. She’d broken the thirteen-hour drive in half and stayed the night in a motel in Armidale and though she’d slept well, she was exhausted from all the time behind the wheel. It was a long way without a second person to share the driving and she was still suffering from jetlag as her body clock tried to reset itself.

  Two burly blokes exited the house carrying a table. Poppy stood to one side to let them pass. What was Terri up to now? She hadn’t mentioned anything about a move, but then again nothing about her mother or her mother’s actions surprised Poppy anymore.

  She’d lost track of how many times they’d moved house over the years since her father left. Was it eight? Nine? It seemed like after the day they moved in, Terri would be back scouring the papers for hours at a time looking at properties all over the country, searching for the next place to call home. She never told Poppy why she felt the constant need to move, and Poppy never asked.

  After thirteen years of constant packing and unpacking, of feeling like they were always on the run, of wondering when her mother would announce they needed to move again, Poppy had had enough. She packed her bags and moved to America – as far away from her mother as physically possible. She was worn out. Worn out making new houses feel like home. Worn out meeting new people and making new friends, first at school, then at university, then at work. All she wanted was to stop and settle somewhere and attempt to be a normal family. Not long after Poppy landed in New York, she met Adam and within weeks he set her up in an apartment overlooking Central Park. For the first time in her life, she had the same address for longer than eighteen months.

  Poppy was amazed her mother had stayed as long as she had in this house, but according to Terri, it met her criteria. Available, affordable and accessible to the beach. At the time, Poppy had bit her tongue. It didn’t matter that it was butt-ugly or that her mother hated the beach. There had been no point arguing. There never was.

  She stared at the house now. The color of the concrete render reminded her of frosting on a birthday cake. The real estate agent said it was terracotta, but years of harsh Queensland sunlight had faded it to a dusky dull pink. It wasn’t the worst house in the street but when Poppy compared it to the house her father had lived in back in Birrangulla, she realized how awful it really was. And once again she swallowed a bitter pill as she was reminded how different her own childhood was from Hamish’s and Isaac’s.

  As she walked up the driveway, the muted sounds of women’s voices singing came to her. Monday was her mother’s neighbor’s weekly bible study group. It was all her mother could talk about last time Poppy had called and they’d had a proper conversation.

  Terri claimed Noni was part of a secret sect out to save Terri’s soul. Poppy had called Noni and she’d explained the women were part of a local community church – hardly a cult – and held weekly bible study meetings at Noni’s house. Noni had merely invited Terri once and since then tension between the neighbors had been tight. Was her mother moving because of that?

  Poppy stood for a moment and gathered her thoughts. She listened to the uplifting sound of the singing and watched the breeze rustle the fronds of the palm trees in the front yard. She sighed. It didn’t matter how much she prepared herself, she would never be ready for what awaited her inside.

  The front door swung open and her mother shuffled out of the house in open-toe sandals, struggling under the weight of a cardboard box.

  An emotion Poppy couldn’t decipher reached up and squeezed her throat, tight. It was too late to run.

  “Hi, Mum,” she called out as cheerfully as she could muster.

  At first she wasn’t sure if her mother had heard her.

  Terri handed the sagging box to one of the men walking past before squinting at her.

  “About bloody time you got ’ere,” she huffed, trying to catch her breath. “Took you long enough.”

  “It’s a long drive.”

  “Hmph.”

  Poppy forced herself to follow her mother inside, making way for the men carrying a queen-sized mattress through the doorway. She forced a smile, which probably resembled a grimace, and wasn’t surprised when they didn’t smile in return. Poor guys. No doubt her mother had been giving them a hard time all morning.

  “What’s going on?” Poppy asked. She hoped the question sounded casual enough.

  Terri stared hard. “What does it look like? I’m moving.”

  “I figured that. Where are you going?” Once again, Poppy aimed for a neutral tone. Anything else might inflame the situation.

  “To a new house.”

  “I figured that too. Why? I thought you had a long lease on this place.”

  “I did but I’ve had enough. It’s time to move again. I haven’t moved for a while.”

  Perfect irrational logic.

  “If you’d let me know you were moving, I would have helped you pack,” Poppy fibbed.

  She stepped inside and eyed the disaster before her. Like all the houses she’d ever lived in, it felt like it was suffocating her. If the walls could talk they’d tell stories of her mother’s misery and illness. The near-empty house reeked of stale cigarette smoke and Poppy fought against the urge to cover her mouth and nose. There was junk everywhere. She felt sorry for the removalists. A mini-skip would be needed to remove the rubbish that they didn’t take with them.

  “You’ve been back in the country for almost a week and I haven’t heard from you once,” Terri accused.

  “That is not true,” Poppy retorted. “I sent you a text when I landed on Thursday morning and another one after the funeral on Friday.”

  “Typical. All I get these days are stupid texts. You couldn’t even pick up the phone and make a call.” Terri bent down and picked up a box. She kicked at another one with her foot. “Make yourself useful. Pick that up.”

  Poppy caught sight of diabetic ulcers and disgusting toenails and stifled another sigh. Her mother’s health had clearly deteriorated. Terri had recently turned sixty-two, but an overab
undance of Queensland sun and cigarettes made her look eighty-two.

  “You’re here now, so you might as well help carry stuff to the truck.”

  Ten minutes. That’s all it had taken and Poppy wanted to run and never return. Now she knew why she no longer called Australia home.

  *

  An hour later, all the furniture and the last of the boxes was loaded in the truck. Poppy scooped up rubbish and disposed of it in the large bins at the back of the house. When her mum wasn’t looking she’d popped next door and given Noni a couple of hundred dollars to arrange a cleaner and someone to remove the remainder of the rubbish. It was the least she could do.

  “Are you hungry? Why don’t I go and buy some lunch for us?” Poppy looked around the empty house. “I’ll get some fish and chips. I’m sure the moving guys would appreciate that.”

  After they’d hastily consumed lunch, the truck left. Poppy had never seen men so happy to get out of there. She knew the feeling.

  “You ready?” Terri asked.

  “Sure. So, are you going to tell me where you’re going?”

  “Birrangulla.”

  Poppy flipped around so fast her hair caught in her mouth. “What? Why?”

  “I want to meet your father’s wife,” Terri snapped.

  Poppy’s heart stalled. “You can’t do that.”

  “I can damn well do anything I want to.”

  “But why?”

  Terri folded her arms and her chest rose and fell. “Because I want to know what she’s like – this woman who stole your father.”

  “She did not steal him. And you are not going to meet her.” Poppy would move hell to earth to make sure it didn’t happen. Ever. Jenni didn’t deserve that.

  “You can’t stop me,” Terri muttered, shooting Poppy a filthy look. “You’ll leave again anyway. Back to America and to that boyfriend of yours you keep bragging about. I’m all alone now so I can do as I please.”

  Now wasn’t the time to talk about Adam.

  “You can do as you please, but that does not include having anything to do with Dad’s wife.”

  “Oh so it’s ‘Dad’ now is it?”

  Poppy bit her lip to stop from screaming. It was time to change the subject. Changing her mother’s mind would be impossible. Sometimes there was no point arguing. Or trying to make sense of the things her mother said and did.

  “Will you miss this place?” Poppy asked.

  “It’s a house,” Terri snapped. “What’s there to miss?”

  She stood in the driveway near the car, passenger door open, rocking backward and forward. Heel to toe, heel to toe, heel to toe. Poppy was familiar with that particular dance-step. It meant if they didn’t get going now, her mother would have one of her meltdowns and meltdowns were something Poppy tried to avoid at all costs.

  Poppy climbed into the driver’s seat and started the car while Terri maneuvered her folds into the passenger seat. Not for the first time, Poppy wondered which of her parents’ strands of DNA she carried. Poppy towered over her mother, and Sean said she was taller than her father too. And neither of them had red hair. Maybe she wasn’t their daughter after all. Maybe she was switched at birth. Or adopted. That would explain why she was nothing like them. Ha! Wishful thinking.

  Terri tugged her seatbelt across her chest and clicked it in place, all while gazing unseeing out the front window. Poppy stifled a sigh. So it was going to be like this. Not even a farewell hug for Noni who stood watching from the front verandah with a confused look on her face.

  Poppy couldn’t believe she was turning around and going straight back to Birrangulla. She contemplated calling Liam or Jenni and decided against it. When they arrived Poppy could work out a plan for what would come next. At this stage, Liam wasn’t part of that equation and neither was Jenni.

  Reversing down the driveway, Poppy pulled into the street, waved to Noni and watched the house grow smaller in the rearview mirror until she turned the bend and it disappeared from sight.

  “Have you got enough leg room, Mum? You can push the seat back if you need to.”

  Terri’s knees were almost hitting the glovebox.

  She pinched her lips together before she spoke. “It’s fine.”

  They drove through the suburban sprawl in silence and Poppy ignored her mother as best she could. Before turning south on the highway, Poppy stopped to fill the car with petrol. The tank was still half full, but once she started driving, she hated having to stop. While she pumped the petrol, she watched her mother through the tinted windows. Straight-backed like she had a metal rod inserted up her spine, eyes fixed, unsmiling. What was going through that mixed-up mind? Was she sad to be leaving? Scared about the future? Who would know?

  Poppy paid for the fuel and returned to the car, placing a bottle of water and packet of M&Ms in her mother’s lap.

  “To keep you going until lunch,” she said, even though chocolate was the last thing her mother needed.

  There was no reply. Poppy exhaled slowly. It was going to be a long drive.

  Chapter 20

  “What’s news with you?” Joel asked Liam on Monday morning. They were at The Bean Counter having coffee before work and catching up. “I saw you with Bill’s daughter at the funeral. What’s going on there?”

  Liam took another sip of his coffee. “Nothing.”

  “You were looking very cozy. What happened to the ‘I’m happy being a bachelor’ line you’ve been spinning for the past year or so?”

  “Yeah, well, that was before I met Poppy.”

  “Yeah, Mum told me you’re besotted. So what’s the problem? Why the long face?”

  “She’s gone.”

  “Gone?”

  “To Queensland to visit her mother.”

  “When’s she coming back?”

  Liam shook his head. “She’s not. She flies back to New York at the end of the month.”

  “Bugger.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  Liam spent the next few minutes telling Joel how he felt about Poppy already after knowing her for such a short period.

  “Mum reckons I should find out when her flight is and be there at the airport with a dozen red roses,” he said.

  Joel chuckled. “Mum. The eternal romantic.”

  They laughed.

  “So why don’t you?” Joel asked.

  “I’d look like an idiot.”

  “At least she’d know your intentions.”

  “I reckon I made my intentions clear. I told her I wanted to get to know her better and she still left.”

  “Maybe she’ll visit her mother and miss you so much she’ll come back.”

  “Now who’s being the hopeless romantic?” Liam asked.

  “Yeah, well, it’s only my advice, but I’ve never heard you speak like this about anyone. Not even Lily. You’re smitten, I can tell. My opinion? For what it counts? You’d be an idiot to let her go. You owe it to yourself to find out if there’s anything there. Call her, be honest, and lay it on the line. If she says no, she’s not interested, at least you can move on. If she says maybe, work harder to win her over. If she says yes, crack open the champagne and celebrate.”

  Liam smiled. “You make it sound so easy.”

  “Mate, it’s romance, not rocket science.”

  “What’s not rocket science?”

  Liam turned in his seat to see Mackenzie standing beside him, a takeout coffee cup in hand.

  “Romance,” Joel said.

  “Are you giving Lee-Man advice on love?” Mackenzie pulled out a chair and sat, resting her hands on her belly. “This could be interesting.”

  “I’m telling him he needs to chase after this Poppy chick a bit harder.”

  Mackenzie frowned. “Who?”

  “Poppy McDonald.”

  Mackenzie narrowed her gaze. “Who is she and why don’t I know anything about her?”

  “Guys, seriously. Give it a rest.” Liam glared at Joel. “Thanks bro.”

  Joel smirke
d. “What are brothers for?”

  “So, who is she?” Mackenzie demanded again.

  Liam explained everything from the beginning – from meeting Poppy at the airport, to the funeral, to dinner at the pub, to kissing her, to seeing her the next day then her leaving without him getting a chance to say a proper good-bye.

  “What are you going to do about it?” Mackenzie asked.

  “Nothing.”

  “You can’t do nothing. You told me sparks flew when you kissed her. She’s probably waiting for your call.”

  “And what am I supposed to tell her?”

  “Tell her you can’t live without her. Follow her to Queensland or America if you have to.”

  Liam dropped his head into his hands before looking back up. “Seriously? That’s your best advice? Drop everything and go after her?”

  Mackenzie looked at Joel. “What do you think, Joel? Do you have a better suggestion?”

  Joel shook his head. “Nope. It’s about time Liam got honest with himself.”

  “Yeah,” Mackenzie agreed. “He keeps saying he wants to stay a bachelor, but I don’t believe him for a moment.”

  “Me neither.”

  “Did you see him at Emma and Tom’s wedding?” Mackenzie asked. “I’m pretty sure those were tears he was wiping away.”

  “Yeah. He wants the happy ever after, he just doesn’t know how to achieve it.”

  “That’s because he hasn’t found the right woman.”

  Liam let them go a bit longer, watching their conversation like a tennis match. Finally he’d had enough.

  “Um, guys, I’m right here. You don’t have to talk about me.”

  Mackenzie waved a hand in the air. “We’re not finished yet.” She turned her back on Liam.

  “Do you think Poppy is good enough for Liam?”