Losing Faith (Surfers Way)

by Jennifer Ryder

  “Whoa, slow down there,” Quade says, his hands gripping my upper arms and stopping me from face-planting onto the floor.

  “What time is it?” I ask, wiping the sleep from my eyes.

  “About eight, I think,” he says and sips the liquid, which I’m certain from his scowl is as putrid as it smells.

  “Don’t you need to get to work?” I ask, feeling bad that Ms Riley won’t be too impressed by his absence.

  He shakes his head. “Nope. I’ve called the school. They’ll get a relief teacher in to cover.”

  My shoulders drop with relief that he’ll still be here. “Are you sure?”

  Quade kisses my forehead, his lips lingering the second time so that his mouth leaves an imprint on my skin. “Not going anywhere, Lace. I’m here for you and your family.”

  “Thank you,” I whisper. I look towards the doors, noting Dad isn’t in his usual pacing spot. “Where’s Dad?” I ask, scaling the room for any sign of him.

  “He just went to freshen up. The nurse came out a few minutes ago and told him we should be able to see your mum soon.”

  “Oh, thank God.”

  Ten minutes later, Dad, Quade and I are led through a maze of hallways. My heart beats out of control in my chest with each step closer to her. She’s going to be fine.

  “You’re still on shift, Fran,” Dad says to the nurse guiding us. She’s the same one who was on at the nurse’s station when we arrived in a panic yesterday.

  “I finished hours ago, but wanted to stick around and make sure this lovely lady was on the improve.” Fran swooshes back a thin grey curtain, and there she is. Pale, bad hair, no makeup, but she looks nothing but beautiful to me. Especially with that giant-sized smile that’s spread across her face.

  Dad rushes to her side and wraps his arms around her, but he’s gentle, as if he she’s a rose and he’s afraid to bruise the petals. Next is my turn for hugs, and then Quade gets his fair share too. Actually, I’m pretty sure she hugged him longer than me. I didn’t catch what she whispered to him while he was trapped in her arms. Whatever it was had Quade smiling and a hint of pink on his cheeks afterwards. Must dig for information later.

  Fran picks up the chart and marks the paper with a pen.

  “Maree will be with us for at least the next few days so we can make sure the device is working well. The area where we made the incision will experience some swelling and tenderness. She won’t be able to drive for a week or so, and definitely no high-impact activities or heavy lifting for at least a month.”

  “Hear that, Mum? No battling to bath Charlie, okay?” I tell her with a shake of my index finger.

  “Okay, sweetie. No more doggy baths. Can’t say I enjoy them much anyhow,” she says with a wink.

  “She’ll need regular check-ups with her GP, but you can be rest assured that there are plenty of people on staff here who will make sure she’s getting the best treatment possible.”

  “Thanks, Fran,” Dad says, and hugs the woman.

  She returns the hug, chuckling. “I’ll leave you all to catch up then, but in half an hour she’ll need some rest.”

  For the next half an hour there’s barely a gap in the conversation.

  When Fran gives us a five-minute warning, I remember to tell Mum and Dad that Ricky is coming home. Mum loses it and bursts into tears. She doesn’t get emotional about nearly leaving this world and passing onto the next too soon, but the thought of seeing her son after two years is too much. I’d hate to see how much snot will come out of her when he finally arrives tomorrow.

  The three of us return to the waiting room.

  “Tank you for being ’ere, Quade, but you should get back ’ome. Tings are okay ’ere now.”

  “Are you sure?” Quade says, looking between me and my father with a deep V formed between his brows.

  Dad places his hand on Quade’s shoulder. “Yes. I can’t tank you enough for being ’ere … for us.”

  “Anytime. Really. I’m just stoked everything turned out well.”

  Dad shakes Quade’s hand and then pulls him into a hug. I give Quade a hug and thank him for coming.

  “You need to go with ’im, Peppi,” Dad says, drilling me with a look that warns me not to talk back.

  “But Dad, I—”

  “Please take ’er wit you,” he orders Quade.

  “I need to be here, Dad,” I blurt out before he cuts me off again.

  “Peppi, dere’s noting you can do. I need you to check in wit Marco and see ’ow dey are doing. Can you do dat for me?”

  I huff out loudly through my nose. “Okay, Dad. Whatever you need. But ring me if anything changes. Anything.”

  “I will,” he says with a kiss to my cheek.

  Lily is puffed when she answers the phone, but assures me they are doing fine. The relief on Dad’s face is instant when I tell him.

  A short time later, guilt cloaks me as we walk out of the hospital. It’s hard to get ready to leave Dad behind. He’s right, though. There’s nothing else I can do here. Pretty sure I don’t need to spend any more time on that bench, either.

  I kiss Dad goodbye and walk out of the hospital with hope fluttering around my heart. She’s okay.

  We check in at the Palace and the both of us help Marco and Lily through the rush. After helping out with the orders, I head to the courtyard to see how Quade is doing. I’m not surprised to see a table of girls swooning as Quade delivers their pizza. Their eyes are still glued to him, and his mighty fine toned arse as he clears a nearby table. A small girl with blonde pigtails runs up to him and squeals what sounds like “Mr Kelly”. His tall frame crouches down and he gives her a high-five. The girl runs back to an older couple and sits in a seat between them. The couple wave and smile at Quade, who nods and says hi.

  “Mr Fun has many talents,” Lily teases, nudging at my elbow.

  “He does. He’s amazing,” I gush. “Dad and I would have been lost without him.”

  As Quade has the courtyard under control, we move into the back to unpack the delivery of dry stock that Uncle Marco hasn’t had a chance to get to.

  Lily passes me a small box of oregano. “Is everything gonna be cool with your mum?”

  “Yeah,” I breathe. “She’ll be okay.”

  Tears dot down her flushed cheeks, rippling over her scar before gliding down her jaw. “It’s just when my mum went into hospital …”—sob—“she never …” Sob.

  “Hey,” I soothe, pulling her into a hug. “You okay?”

  She wipes away her tears and shakes off whatever dark thoughts were plaguing her a moment ago. “I’m good,” she motions to the boxes beside me. “Let’s get this unpacked and then we can make sure Mr Fun has made it out of the courtyard alive.” The soft laugh that leaves her lips has me suspicious that she’s covering something up. I don’t know what the deal is with her parents, but I want her to know that I’m here for her if she ever needs anything.

  I place my hand on her arm and wait until her eyes have met mine. I just hope I don’t come across as pushy, because that’s the last thing I want to do. “Lil, if you ever need to talk about stuff … I’m a good listener.”

  “Thanks,” she whispers, and then juts her chin towards the boxes.

  “No worries.” I hand her a box with flour. We work in silence until the job is done.

  Marco shoos us out at around nine, with food and strict instructions to get it to his brother.

  Quade and I pick up a change of clothes and some toiletries for Dad, and we drop them and some food in to him at the hospital. Mum is still stable, but she’s been asleep since we left earlier. I’m resistant to leave again, but I do with the promise that I will return tomorrow with Ricky.

  I’m dead on my feet when we finally collapse into bed.

  ---

  The next morning, I find myself at Faith’s grave. I tell my BFF all about Mum’s scare, and tell her that things between Quade and I are good again. When I stand and leave, the weight on my shoulders seems to have
lifted. Even though Faith is gone, I still feel her presence. She must be looking down on me.

  Walking out of the cemetery, my phone beeps. I yank it out of my pocket and view the message on screen.

  Ricky: Just got on the train, see you in a couple of hours x

  Me: Cool. Once you get here we can drive in to the hospital x

  I’ll even drive my little car there with Ricky as my licensed driver. I bet he’ll give me shit over my driving and the fact I’m still on my learner’s permit, but I don’t care. I’ve come a long way. Hopefully he’ll see that and won’t be the shit of a brother he was before he went overseas.

  My shoulder bumps into something, drawing my gaze up into a familiar face.

  “Watch where you’re going,” Mr Whittaker grunts. His eyes narrow in on my face and then colour drains from his wrinkled cheeks. He’s probably pissed I’ve done it again. I don’t blame him.

  “Mr Whittaker, sorry.” My eyes fixate on the fresh yellow rose at his feet. My heart kicks in my chest. The ba-boom of blood rushing around my body fills my ears.

  He’s the one. He’s been leaving them?

  But why?

  I pick up the rose and hand it to him. Whilst every bone in my body in this very moment wants to know why, I can’t ask him outright. I need to be careful about this. I need to watch him. Spooking him now won’t help.

  “I promise to watch where I’m going. Sorry again.”

  I promise to watch you more carefully from now on.

  --

  I run out to the taxi when it pulls into the driveway. Once Ricky has paid the fare and has all his belongings on the curb, I throw my arms around him. Seeing him is bitter-sweet. I’ve missed my brother, wanted to see him, but never under circumstances like this. I feel like a little girl again, crying in his arms, like I did on one of the rare times when he was around and I fell off my bike. I’d cry at the sight of a drop of blood.

  Ricky holds me close to his chest and strokes my hair. “Everything will be okay,” he whispers in my ear. “Mum’s a tough cookie.”

  I wipe at my damp cheeks and pull back, staring into his glistening dark brown eyes. “Are you okay? You know, the thing with Josefine?”

  “Huh. I’ll live,” he grunts. “Let’s take all my shit inside.”

  After taking everything into the house, we hop into the Speed Demon. My hand shakes as I check my mirrors and then start the car. I reverse and slowly pull out onto the street. I’ve never driven with my big brother accompanying me as a licenced driver. For good reason. I’m sure that in a couple of streets from now the snarky comments about my driving ability will start. It’s expected. We’re the kind of brother and sister who argue. Deep down we love each other, but we always fight.

  “Good to see you’re driving again.”

  Well isn’t that a turnaround from my tease of a brother.

  “Yeah. It was hard at first, but Quade was the one who finally kicked my butt into gear.”

  “So you and Quade are together, huh?”

  I can’t hold back my smile. “Yeah. We are.”

  “Mum’s pretty stoked about it. She finally got the hang of using Viber after we Skyped on your birthday. She kept messaging me about how happy she was that the two of you finally got together. She’s over the bloody moon.”

  “You should see her fuss over Quade. He loves it, I can tell. I won’t lie, I get a little jealous, but when I see what his mum is like, I don’t blame him.”

  “He was always a decent guy at school. I just hope for his sake he takes good care of my little sister or else I’ll kick his—”

  “Settle down, Ricky. We’re good. You don’t have to worry about us.”

  Ricky is quiet the rest of the drive to the hospital.

  When we reach Mum’s bedside, Dad stands and takes two quick steps, wrapping his arms around Ricky’s shoulders.

  “Ricardo. My boy,” Dad says in a raspy voice. His eyes water, which means mine do too.

  “I bought you some fresh clothes, Dad,” I say, as I place the overnight bag beside the bed.

  “Tank you, Peppi.”

  “How are you, Mum? Did you get a good night’s sleep?”

  There’s a little more colour in her cheeks than yesterday, which helps me breathe a little easier. “I did, sweetie. I feel like a million dollars today.”

  I don’t have the heart to tell her that she looks as if she’s done a few rounds in the boxing ring. Her face is swollen, and beneath her eyes the skin is pretty puffy.

  “That’s awesome. So what’s the verdict? When do you come home?”

  “They want to keep me under observation for at least another few days and then they’ll re-assess.”

  I lower my head as my stomach sinks. It sucks she’ll be in here that long, but there’s something else. The anniversary. It’s something I would never miss, but how can I go along when my mother is in here flat on her back in a hospital bed? Last year she briefly came with me, but this year she won’t be able to. It sucks.

  “Lacey,” Mum says in a stern tone. “What’s wrong?”

  “It’s nothing,” I say with a shake of my head.

  “Sweetie,” she says, but she might as well be saying “spit it out”.

  “Friday is the fourth of November,” I say and sigh.

  “And you need to go to the anniversary.”

  “But you’re in here. It wouldn’t be fair for me to—”

  “For you to what? Honour your best friend’s memory? They’re doing everything they can for me, Lacey, and your stubborn father isn’t planning on leaving my side.”

  “I know, but there’s the shop too. You know Uncle Marco and Aunt Cat get stressed, and Lily is good but it’s too much—”

  “I’ll be back in the kitchen this afternoon if Dad needs me to be,” Ricky pipes in from beside me. He steps closer to Mum, squeezes her hand, and leans down and plants a kiss to her forehead.

  “Ricky,” Dad says through a fond smile. “Tank you for coming back. We’ve missed our boy. Sorry to do dis to you. I’ll pay for your flight. It must ’ave cost an arm and a leg for you to get ’ere so fast.”

  “Don’t stress over it. I was coming back anyhow. Things didn’t work out.”

  “Aw, my boy,” Mum says and pulls him into her arms.

  How nice it is to have him home.

  ---

  On our drive to the Palace, I take the long way and drive down Acacia Avenue, past the Whittakers’ house. Because I looked up his address like a crazy person.

  As we pull to the curb, there’s no car out the front of number forty-two. Hmm. I don’t recall there being a car out front last time I did a mail drop. Does the old man still drive?

  When we reach the Palace, we are met with a very weary-looking uncle Marco. Him and Ricky hug it out, slapping each other on the back and muttering in Italian.

  I walk over to Lily and don’t hesitate to wrap my arms around her. “How’s your mum?” she asks, squeezing me tight.

  “She’s good. On the road to recovery. Thank you so much for helping keep this place going,” I say and unfold my arms.

  Her eyes are still focused on my uncle.

  “How’s Uncle Marco holding up?” I ask her.

  “Holy snapping duck shit,” she says and shakes her head.

  “What are you talking about?” I grumble.

  “Who’s that?” she asks, pointing to my sibling, who’s running his hand back through his dark hair and puffing his chest out. Oh dear. Please don’t let her fall ill to the charms of the douche.

  “That’s my brother, Ricky.”

  “Oh, cool,” she says casually.

  I don’t miss the blush surfacing on her cheeks. No, no no. I need to set her straight. “No, not cool, Lil. He can be a real douche.”

  “Yeah?” she says, still in la-la land.

  “Plus he probably came back from overseas with a raging case of herpes, so there’s that, too,” I add, just to see if she’s listening.

  “E
eek, not cool,” she says and finally lends her focus to me.

  I place my hand on her shoulder. “What can I do to help?”

  “Um, if you could give Cat a hand clearing some tables, that’d be great, and maybe give the floor a sweep over? Marco is a messier cook than your dad.”

  “I’m on it.”

  A little while later Ricky joins me outside, taking a seat at one of the tables I’m in the middle of spraying down.

  “Just my imagination or does Lily look a helluva lot like Faith?” Ricky says, crossing one ankle over his knee.

  “Ah, yep.”

  “She’s hot,” he volunteers. I so wish he hadn’t.

  “She’s also at least five years younger than you. Don’t be disgusting.”

  My phone beeps in my pocket. I shake my head at my brother as I pull out the device.

  Quade: Just grabbing some groceries. Where are you?

  “Is Lily single?” Ricky asks, poking at the gaps in his teeth with a toothpick.

  “None of your business.” I bark out, trying to concentrate on my reply to Quade.

  Me: At the Palace. Big brother is here.

  Quade: Sweet, I’ll pop in and say hi, then I’m taking you back to my place for food. You need to eat.

  My stomach growls, on cue. Seriously? I probably should’ve eaten something for lunch.

  Me: Sounds great x

  “I’ll be back in the Palace, Sis. So I’d say it’s not an unreasonable question about someone that I’ll be working with. Side by side.”

  God, will he let up on this? Me being aggravated is only going to spur him on. Perhaps it’s better that I direct him to ask Lily herself.

  “Feel free to ask Lily about her relationship status. I’m not getting involved.”

  “Gee, that’s not like you,” he teases.

  I grind my teeth. He’s not even back a day and I want to strangle him. Anyway, Lily thinks he’s riddled with disease, so I’m sure any advances will be shot down.

  I finish mopping the floors just in time for Quade’s arrival.

  Ricky greets him at the door. They shake hands and talk quietly. There’s plenty of smiles between them, so hopefully Ricky didn’t jump straight into the “you hurt my sister, I hurt you” spiel.