This week the focus was on her new job at Mrs May’s Bookstore, and giving her health some attention. Mark had spent about an hour with her, asking questions and performing various tests. She’d already had the iridology done, so that saved some time. She’d been amazed to see the photos of her eyes up close and to learn what each marking meant, but she was even more amazed when Mark took a tiny drop of blood from her fingertip and in an instant her blood cells were visible on the monitor. It was like a whole other universe. She could see cells floating around like bubbles and tiny white dots dancing on the screen. Mark explained what everything was, but she’d already forgotten. Anyway, it had been really cool to see.
He’d given her some initial recommendations and advised her to come back in a month or so to check how she was feeling, then he’d do further tests and move onto the next step. ‘Health is a journey,’ he’d told her, and rarely could everything be addressed in one consultation. He’d also said it might be a good idea to have some standard blood tests through a doctor’s referral, but Grace didn’t think she’d worry about that now. The fingertip blood sample hadn’t hurt, but she didn’t feel like having a proper one with the big needle. Besides, it was like she was on holiday here, even though she now had a job, and holidays shouldn’t involve needles, should they?
As Grace walked down the road and around the corner to the main street, waving at Olivia as she passed the bookstore, she couldn’t believe she’d been here for just under two weeks and already had a job. She’d worked the past two days, had today and tomorrow off, and would be back in on Friday and Saturday. The first day was taken up mostly with learning and watching, getting used to how the shop worked. She’d mastered the cash register and EFTPOS machine and was gradually learning about the computer system and how to order books for customers. On Friday, Olivia was getting her to help with a window display for new releases and she was looking forward to unleashing her creativity.
She passed Waves, the café where she’d eaten lunch yesterday, and Bob’s Take Away, where she’d bought lunch on the Monday. Grace had planned to eat at a different place each day this week, to try out all the cafés in the main street. She probably wouldn’t do it all the time as the cost piled up, but thought, what the heck; it’s my first week on the job!
Today she was trying out Café Lagoon. Apparently it was open from early till late, whereas most of the other places closed at five. They had decadent looking cakes in the glass display out front, but she’d have to reduce food like that in her diet after speaking to Mark. He did say the occasional treat was okay though. I wonder if giving into temptation ten minutes after the consultation is a total cop-out? Maybe she could start the change in eating habits tomorrow. Grace thought she ate pretty well for an eighteen-year-old, but Mark pointed out some things in her diet that weren’t as good as she’d thought. Anyway, she was here for lunch not cake. But if she had room in her stomach afterwards, maybe one slice wouldn’t be too bad. The hummingbird cake looked good, and at least it had fruit in it. Whoever thought to put pineapple in a cake was a genius!
Grace took a photo of the café and walked in. By the looks of people holding little metal stands with numbers on them, this café did not have full table service. Grace went up to the counter and eyed the menu on the blackboard. Whispering the choices to herself, she decided on the roasted chicken and avocado salad. She was about to place her order when her gaze lowered to meet that of a totally delicious guy. Suddenly the hummingbird cake was bland in comparison.
‘What can I get for you?’ he asked, eyeing her with a soft smile.
‘Um…’ Grace forgot what she’d decided to order. She looked up again at the blackboard and thankfully retrieved the memory. ‘I, ah, I’ll have the roasted chicken and avocado salad, thanks. I mean, please.’ Was that warmth on her cheeks from the hot weather or was she going red?
‘Sure thing. Would you like a drink as well?’ asked Mr Delicious, whose nametag read ‘Jonah’.
‘Yes, do you have squeshly freezed juice?’
Jonah grinned from ear to ear. ‘Ah, yes, we do have squeshly freezed juice.’
‘Oh God! Is that what I said?’ Grace’s hand rose to cover her mouth.
Jonah nodded. ‘Don’t worry, when I was training to be a barista I had to get used to all the different types of coffee. By the end of the day I’d be saying “One shouble dot dinny decaf laramel latte coming right up!”‘
Laughter burst from Grace’s lips, and she felt instantly connected to Jonah. ‘Well, I’ll have a squeshly freezed morange and ango juice please,’ she asked, totally shocked that she’d just said that.
‘Sure. Oh, and do you want the sessing on the dide of the salad?’
‘Sorry, I can’t decipher that one!’
‘Yeah, it was tricky. I said, do you want the dressing on the side of the salad?’
‘Oh, yes please.’ More warmth spread across Grace’s cheeks.
‘Take a seat and I’ll bring it out for you,’ Jonah said, handing her a number. Grace wished he’d handed her his number. ‘You’re number seven today.’
‘Seven’s a lucky number,’ Grace replied, as she walked over to a table near the counter so she could keep an eye on him.
‘Then today must be your lucky day.’ Jonah smiled, then turned to serve another customer.
As she went to walk out of the café after eating her salad, and somehow not feeling like she needed the hummingbird cake after all, Jonah’s eyes locked with hers and they both gravitated towards each other like magnets.
‘Thanks for a nice lunch,’ Grace said.
‘Any time. Hey, I didn’t get your name,’ Jonah said quietly.
‘Grace.’
‘Hope to see you in here again, Grace.’
‘Where else am I gonna get a squeshly freezed morange and ango juice as good as the one I just had?’ Grace smiled and walked out of the café.
Maybe she wouldn’t bother trying out the other cafés in the street. Café Lagoon suited her just fine.
Chapter 14
Work going great, thx 4 asking. Should c window display I did, looks awesome!
Sylvia smiled as she read Grace’s reply to her text message on Friday afternoon. It was actually nice having her around. Although she’d felt awkward at first, she was beginning to loosen up around her and felt more like a friend than a mother. Unlike with Mark. It seemed every time she saw him that knot in her stomach pinched tighter and tighter. Especially after seeing Denise Fairweather today.
‘What have you put my patient on?’ Sylvia’s words had shot from her tongue like a sting, as she’d joined Mark at the lunch table in the staffroom.
‘Excuse me?’ Mark looked up from whatever the colourful mixture was that he was eating.
‘Denise Fairweather. I saw her today and she’s taking all these extra supplements. I don’t know what they are or how they might interfere with her medication.’ Denise had given the okay for Sylvia to collaborate on her case with Mark.
‘It’s okay, I looked at what she’s taking and there shouldn’t be any problem. No known contraindications,’ Mark assured her.
‘Shouldn’t be any problem, or won’t be? Natural medicine is not really an exact science.’
‘Look, as far as my training tells me, she’ll be fine taking the supplements. Do you think all the different types of medications you prescribe have been tested in all the possible combinations? No, but they’re prescribed anyway. Medicine is not always an exact science either, Sylvia.’ Mark’s usually cheerful expression was now one of seriousness.
He was right. Damn him! ‘Well, I hope you know what you’re doing with my patient.’
‘She’s my patient too, Sylvia. And, I’ll have you know, I did one year of a pharmacy degree before I studied naturopathy. And even if I hadn’t, I’d still be confident I’m doing the right thing.’
Sylvia held her arms out to the side. ‘Fair enough. But what’s this she tells me about you wanting her Metformin dosage reduced?’
/>
‘I’ve put her on some herbal insulin sensitisers. The particular formula she’s taking has been shown in some studies to work just as well, actually, slightly better than medication. It’s not as fast acting as drugs, so all I need is for her to be monitored more frequently so the dosage can be reduced if the herbs get her levels down further.’
‘You bet I’ll be monitoring her.’ Sylvia stood from the table and took her lunch from the fridge. The knot in her stomach tightened further as she tried to pull the lid off the airtight plastic container. When it finally gave way, the container leapt from her hands and the tuna salad fell to the floor. ‘Crap,’ she said, bending over to scoop up the mess and put it in the bin.
‘I’ve got an extra serving of my lunch in the fridge if you want some,’ Mark said.
Sylvia peered into Mark’s bowl and scrunched up her nose, then looked at the remnants of her lunch in the bin. ‘Okay,’ she said, resigned. She slid some of the colourful meal into a bowl, and took a mouthful.
‘It’s good, isn’t it?’ Mark said.
Sylvia curved her mouth downwards and tipped her head to one side. ‘Not bad,’ she replied. Not bad? It was bloody delicious.
Chapter 15
Only four days since starting her new health regime and Grace was a little more energetic already. Probably no need to worry about getting those blood tests, she thought, as she downed a glass of a sweet orange tasting powder mixed with water that Mark had given her. She was to take it twice a day and report back next month. He’d also given her a couple of tablet formulas. It was no bother, she’d just take them alongside the Chinese herbal tablets she’d been taking for the past year. Mark said they wouldn’t interfere.
Grace had risen early this morning to take a photo of the sunrise over the beach, so she was looking forward to a relaxing afternoon at the movies with Sylvia. It was hard to believe it was two o’clock already. Despite getting up early, the day seemed to fly. Or maybe it was because she’d spent most of the time daydreaming about Jonah. His warm brown eyes and chestnut hair, swooping diagonally across his face like some kind of artwork in itself. It didn’t look girly or too ‘done’ though, but simply fell that way as if wanting to cradle his gorgeous face.
Grace had gone back to Café Lagoon for lunch on Friday, feeling fulfilled after helping set up the window display in the bookstore. Unfortunately, Jonah hadn’t been there, so she ate lunch quickly and went for a walk to the lookout and back again. Things were so different here compared to Melbourne. No one seemed to be in a rush, and every second person wore bare feet, many guys without shirts on. I could get used to this! she’d thought.
Grace had gone back to Café Lagoon on Saturday as well, and luckily Jonah was there that time. ‘You’re back!’ Jonah’s eyes had lit up when she walked in, or was he like that with everyone? Many people called him by name when they entered the café. ‘Hey Jonah,’ ‘Jonah, buddy, how are ya?’ and ‘Working hard, ay Jonah?’ It should have been called Café Jonah.
On approaching the counter he’d asked, ‘The usual?’ to which she’d replied, ‘The usual? I’ve only been here once before!’ He needn’t know she’d been in the day before too. The café was full, and Jonah moved about like a pro; taking orders, making coffee, and bringing meals out to tables, including hers. ‘Booklover, huh?’ he said, pointing to her nametag which read, ‘Grace Forrester, Mrs May’s Bookstore’. ‘Have you read A Difference of Opinion? It’s an awesome thriller,’ Jonah asked.
Mmmm…cute, and he reads! ‘Have I ever, I totally loved it! Did you see that twist coming at the end?’
‘No, it came out of nowhere! As good as the twist in The Sixth Sense.’
‘I reckon. Hey did you know they’re going to make a movie out of the book?’
‘Really?’ Jonah sat for a moment on the chair opposite Grace, his eyes widening with interest.
‘Yep, my boss told me. They often hear about these things before the public. It helps to sell more of the books too, as people like to read the book before seeing the movie.’
‘I can’t wait for it.’
‘Me neither.’
‘Well, maybe we’ll have to go and see it together.’ Jonah smiled.
‘Maybe we should,’ Grace replied, her heart tingling.
Jonah nodded to someone to his left, and quickly got up. ‘Better get back to work. Enjoy your meal, Grace.’
‘Thanks, I will.’
And she did.
The crunch of car tires on the gravel path outside alerted Grace to the present moment, and she took a quick look in the small mirror above the sink, dabbing on some lip gloss.
‘Hi Grace.’ Sylvia appeared in the doorway to the caravan.
‘Hi, I’ll just lock up and then we’ll go.’
Grace walked out, the bell she had hanging on the inside of the door jingling as she closed it, before twisting the key in the lock. Mr and Mrs Bennett from the adjacent caravan waved as she got into Sylvia’s car, and she waved back. She’d struck up a conversation with them the day of her arrival, and they were always friendly. She felt safe knowing they were nearby. The first few nights at the caravan were a little scary for Grace, having never lived on her own before, but it didn’t bother her now. Her father had made her bring a whistle and promise to keep it under her pillow at night, so she’d obliged, and even taken a photo of it to send to her dad so he wouldn’t worry. He checked in with her daily, and she didn’t mind, but some days she just wanted to do her own thing without having to give him a regular update.
‘I’ve booked the tickets, so we can go straight to the counter to collect them and get some snacks, instead of having to wait in line,’ Sylvia said, as she turned the car around and drove out of the caravan park.
‘Thanks for that, I’m glad you’re organised. I’d usually just turn up, pick a movie, and line up only to be told it’s sold out,’ Grace said.
Sylvia chuckled. ‘Always pays to be organised, line-ups are such a pain.’
In the time Grace had known Sylvia, she could tell her mother was a reliable person. Punctual, neat, and well prepared for everything. While at her house she’d noticed that Sylvia had stuck to her fridge the most comprehensive shopping list ever seen in the history of shopping lists. It had vertical columns for the days of the week, woven with horizontal columns, each representing one grocery item. Then, each item had a tick allocated on certain days of the week, so she knew when to buy that particular item. By the looks of it, she did most of her shopping on alternate Saturdays, with a few perishable items purchased more frequently during the week. That, and the fact that her bookshelves were more organised than those at the bookstore, gave Grace a giggle.
‘How was your consultation with Mark, if you don’t mind my asking?’ Sylvia glanced briefly at Grace, before indicating left and turning the corner onto the main street.
‘It was great, he’s a goldmine of information,’ Grace replied.
‘Just out of curiosity, does he, ah…know about us?’
‘Does he know I’m your daughter? No. I just told him we’re related. I figured it might be easier for you, I didn’t know whether you wanted people to know or not. And you’re probably still getting used to the whole situation yourself.’ Sylvia looked relieved, and Grace felt a twinge of disappointment. ‘He did ask about my family medical history, but I said I didn’t know much about it.’ Grace looked at Sylvia who was keeping her eyes on the road. ‘Is there anything I should know?’
‘Let’s see…’ Sylvia began. ‘I haven’t had any significant issues, I don’t have any siblings, and my parents are still going strong.’
Sylvia’s parents. Her grandparents. She wondered what they were like. Would they want to meet her?
‘Although Dad has slightly high blood pressure, Mum a little arthritis. And Mum’s sister, my aunt Mary, had lymphoma. That’s a type of cancer. But she recovered and is doing well, and as far as I know, her two kids are well.’ Sylvia turned onto the highway. The movie theatre was in the next t
own. ‘I hardly speak to Dad’s brother and his kids, so I don’t really know about them. And my only living grandparent is Grandma Greene; she’s in a nursing home in Sydney. My other grandparents all died between age eighty and eighty-five; Nan had breast cancer, but the others had heart issues.’
‘Thanks for sharing all that,’ Grace said.
‘Well, you’re entitled to know.’
The fact that Sylvia’s family all seemed to live to a ripe old age reassured Grace. When her adoptive mother had died, she’d almost forgotten that Maria wasn’t related to her biologically and asked the doctor if she herself would be at risk of heart problems like her mother. She’d felt silly when he reminded her of the situation.
Half an hour later Grace and Sylvia sat in the movie theatre sharing a box of popcorn. The warm buttery smell and the rustling packets of crisps brought back childhood memories for Grace of going to the movies with her parents. Every time she went to the movies she felt somehow comforted, like she was at home.
As the movie began and the room fell quiet, Grace noticed Sylvia’s chest rising gently up and down, and was strangely mesmerised. Long ago, those lungs had breathed oxygen into her mother’s bloodstream, delivering it to a baby growing in her womb. Her. And now Grace was older than Sylvia had been when she’d had her. She couldn’t imagine going through pregnancy and childbirth at such a young age, the thought of going through it now or anytime soon was too much to comprehend. One day, sure, but only when she was ready. When she met the right man, had travelled and experienced the world, and achieved her dreams. First, she had to figure out what those dreams were.
When everyone in the theatre laughed, Grace realised she’d missed the first scene of the movie, lost in her thoughts. Lost in a movie-worthy scene of her own life.
‘The sky is so beautiful at this time of day, do you mind if we stop and take a few pictures?’ Grace asked Sylvia as they drove back to Tarrin’s Bay after the movie had finished.
The January Wish Page 8
