by Karen West
I stopped to take in the view, and went in search of our names that we’d carved in the ledge. They were still there, Jake loves Stephy. A short distance away, I read, Jake loves Melanie, carved in a heart.
‘Did you love me?’ I asked.
‘One hundred per cent. Still do.’
‘And Melanie?’
He gave me a huge grin. ‘A girl from Brooklyn. I still love her too, but she lost interest when I dropped out of boarding school.’
I walked across the weathered surface and lay down beside him. ‘Aunt Cass told me that your mum died. I didn’t know that she had breast cancer. I’m sorry.’
Jake shrugged. ‘Thanks,’ he said, stretching his legs, crossing his feet over his ankles. He closed his eyes and turned his face to the sun. ‘It all happened quickly.’ There was a long pause. ‘It, um …’
The hesitation in Jake’s voice made me think that he knew that my mum was waiting for a transplant. ‘Aunt Cass told you?’
Jake turned his head towards me and squinted. ‘Ah – yep, she did. It can’t be easy for you either.’
‘It’s not. I think the hardest part is learning that stress brings out the worst in you – the old you no longer exists and the new you isn’t a nice person.’
Jake nodded, and silence fell over the rock.
‘What’s with your boyfriend?’ asked Jake.
‘God, did Aunt Cass discuss him too?’
‘Yep,’ he said, raising his eyebrows.
I liked his honesty. ‘We’re having a break.’
‘Sorry to hear that.’
‘It’s complicated.’
‘Yeah, I know what you mean. Since Mum died, it’s like being on a fast-moving train without the stations. If you allow yourself to stop, your brain starts over-thinking. Hey, tell me, has Libby got a boyfriend?’
I gave him a goofy grin. ‘No, she doesn’t.’
‘Good,’ he said, lying back and folding his arms behind his head, beaming with confidence. ‘So when is she coming to Palmy?’
‘On the weekend.’
‘Maybe we can come back here and pitch a tent, stay the night, light a fire.’
I smiled at the thought of Jake putting up a tent. For as long as I could recall he wanted to be an architect. ‘Have you given up on becoming an architect?’
I think my words stole Jake’s confidence. ‘No, not totally. When Mum died, Dad got snowed under. He had trouble staying focused and started losing clients. I plan on going back to school next year, but locally. I want to be around for Dad.’
‘I suppose you know that I’m taking time off school?’
‘That was mentioned.’
I shook my head. ‘She’s amazing, what else did she tell you?’
‘I think we’ve covered everything. Are you up for a swim?’ said Jake, jumping to his feet.
‘You told me that the water was freezing.’
Jake stripped off his shirt, dropped his jeans and stood at the edge of the boulder in his baggy checked boxer shorts.
‘You’re joking, right?’
‘Nope, meet you in there,’ he shouted, swinging his arms as he jumped. I heard a splash.
‘You’re crazy,’ I laughed, and scurried to the edge, willing him to surface.
Jake’s head broke through the water. He shook his hair like a wet dog shaking off the rain. ‘It’s like bloody ice,’ he yelled.
I walked up the beach towards the house. Mum was sitting in the afternoon sun with Aunt Cass. I threw the driftwood over the retaining wall, then dragged it over to Mum. ‘I found it on the beach.’
Mum ran her hand over the bumps and curves and studied the sea-worm holes. ‘Steph, it’s beautiful. Thank you.’ She held it up for Aunt Cass to see.
Aunt Cass shook her head. ‘You’d have enough driftwood to build a house of wood, little pig.’
Mum laughed.
‘Where’s Dad?’
‘He was called in to work.’
‘I knew it,’ I said, putting my hands behind my head. ‘Why does he do this? He promised not to work unless it was an emergency.’
‘Come on, Steph. You know what the zoo’s like.’
‘The family holiday was his idea.’
‘Steph, don’t worry, he won’t be long.’
I started walking backwards and turned. ‘I’m going to take a shower,’ I called over my shoulder.
As I closed the back door, the front door bell rang. I ran to open it, thinking that Dad didn’t have a key. There stood Richard.
‘Please, Steph, hear me out.’
‘Why should I? You said what you had to say at the café. You had no right to come here. As I see it, it’s over.’
‘Steph, please, give me a chance.’
‘How did you get here?’ I gazed beyond him to a car parked with its nose in the drive.
‘A friend drove me.’
‘Well, that was a waste of petrol,’ I spat out, gripping the door to close it.
Richard put out his hand to stop me. ‘Steph, please, can we just walk? If you don’t like what I came to say, I’ll go, I promise.’
‘And you’ll accept that we’re over?’
‘Richard’s forehead puckered. ‘Over? Yeah, sure, if that’s what you want.’
I led Richard in the opposite direction to where Mum and Aunt Cass were sitting, and took him across the sand to the concrete pipe, where you needed to walk with your arms stretched out to either side to keep from ending up in the water.
‘It’s amazing here,’ he said, feasting on the view, and almost lost his footing.
‘Careful,’ I warned, gripping the back of his shirt to help him regain his balance. When we got to the end, we sat facing the land on the other side of the water, where houses built on tall poles clung to the side of the hill like giant eagles.
‘Say what you came to say,’ I snapped, and his eyes met mine.
Richard turned his gaze to the water. ‘The day Michael died, he was struck on the back of his neck by his surfboard,’ he said, and his voice choked up. ‘Being on life support gave us a chance to say goodbye.’ He clasped his hands and brought them up to his mouth and started rocking. ‘When the hospital asked if he was a donor, Mum freaked. His voice softened. ‘I knew that Michael would have been a willing donor, but I didn’t have the guts to tell Mum. I couldn’t cope with seeing her so cut-up – I wasn’t going to add to her pain.’
‘Richard, you don’t have to do this,’ I said.
He shook his head. ‘This might sound strange, but I’d give anything to have Michael’s organs living.’ He gave me a watery smile. ‘So that’s it,’ he said, releasing his hands.
‘I’m so sorry.’
‘There’s more, Steph.’
‘More?’
‘I was talking to Kevin.’
‘Kevin? Why?’ I squirmed.
‘Hey, he’s not holding what happened at the hospital against you. He understands, and he wants to help. One of the nurses in the ICU recognised you. She took Kevin aside and told him your mum needed a heart transplant.’
‘Nurses are supposed to keep patient information confidential!’
‘Come on, Steph – you didn’t exactly follow hospital protocol.’
I dropped my head. ‘You’re right.’
‘Anyway, the outcome was good. Kevin explained to his parents why you were there, and when they were approached by the transplant coordinators, they agreed that Katie should be a donor.’
‘I never meant to hurt them.’
‘We know that. That’s what gave Kevin the idea.’
I dried my eyes on the sleeve of my jacket. ‘Idea?’
‘An organ donor website for kids our age. Kevin suggested an opt-in card to become a willing donor, or an opt-out card. The information stays confidential, and can only be accessed by a family member, if needed. Steph, if Michael had had access to a site like that, I reckon it would have made that night more bearable for my parents, and the outcome would have been different.’
‘It sure is doable. Libby and Willow are on board. Mr Ace, our IT teacher, and Paul will help me with the coding and design. We thought – Willow thought – that maybe you’d do some artwork? You know, both of you?’
‘A site like that – who knows how many lives it could save …’
‘Exactly. We could start workshopping it over the weekend. It could be live in a matter of weeks.’
‘I’m in, but I might not discuss it with Mum and Dad, not yet.’
‘I knew you’d be in. I’m sorry for everything. I want us to stay together. I can’t lose you, Steph.’
‘I want that too.’
‘I have to go,’ he said and kissed me. ‘Kevin’s dad let us borrow his work car. We promised that we wouldn’t be long.’
‘God, Kevin’s here? You didn’t tell me!’
‘I didn’t want to freak you out.’ Richard took my hand. ‘It’s all good, I promise.’
My stomach churned as we approached Kevin sitting behind the wheel of the car. He opened his door, stepped out and walked towards me. He didn’t talk, he just reached out and hugged me, and I hugged him back.
It’s strange how one minute you’re in a dark hole, and you think that there’s no way of digging your way out, then your friends step forward, showing you the way. For the first time in such a long while, I didn’t feel alone and helpless.
I ran across the lawn past Mum and Aunt Cass, then stopped. ‘Richard was here. It’s all good.’
‘Invite him in?’ said Mum.
‘He’s gone. He’ll be back on the weekend.’ I jumped off the wall.
‘Where are you off to?’
‘To the boatshed,’ I called, and blew her a kiss. ‘Enjoy the sun. I love you, I love both of you!’
Chapter Nineteen
JAKE WAS PULLING a motor apart when I entered the boatshed. He took a rag from his back pocket and wiped his hands. He grinned. ‘Did you tread on a stingray barb?’
‘What makes you ask that?’
‘You’re energised.’
‘Yeah, I guess I am. Have you got a minute?’
‘Sure. Dad and old Harry are delivering a boat. Do you want a coffee?’
‘Sounds great.’
‘Good, coffee it is. Let’s go up to the main house,’ he said, placing the rag back in his pocket.
I followed Jake up the stairs beside the boathouse to the main house. He led me into the kitchen. The smells were unfamiliar. ‘We don’t get much time for housework,’ he explained, shooing a large ginger cat off the kitchen bench that was covered with dirty plates, cups and pots.
‘Nothing has changed,’ I said, glancing around, but that was a lie because the house was missing his mother’s touches. There were no flowers in a vase, no incense sticks burning on the windowsill, no basket of fresh washing on the lounge waiting to be folded, and no fresh coffee sitting in the plunger waiting to be poured. I walked to the glass sliding doors and looked out across the water. ‘We can sit out there,’ he said, his eyes pointing me in the direction of the table. ‘I’ll bring the coffee out.’
I stood on the deck with my face to the sun, taking in the salty smell of the sea.
Jake walked out, balancing the coffee mugs on top of a biscuit tin that was like the one that held my clippings.
‘Richard made a trip out to Palmy.’
Jake raised his eyebrows. ‘And …?’
‘Yeah, we talked, we’re good. He’s coming for the weekend with our friends. Their plan is to workshop an organ donor website for teens to help create awareness.’
‘Sounds heavy.’
‘Yeah, I suppose it does.’
‘But worthwhile,’ he added. ‘How can I help?’
‘We need a space. Do you think your dad would let us use the boatshed on the weekend?’
‘Can’t see why not,’ he said, without hesitation.
‘You don’t think your dad would mind?’
‘Hell, no. There’s a whiteboard I can clean up. I’ll clear the old workbench, get some chairs. How many will you need?’
‘Eight. That is, if you want to be involved?’
‘Yeah, I do.’
‘Libby’s coming too,’ I added.
He grinned. ‘Excellent.’
‘Aunt Cass has room for Libby and Willow to stay over, but the boys will head home. It’s too cold to camp out.’
‘They don’t have to do that. There’s a spare bunk room here. We use it for storing stuff, but don’t worry, I’ll tidy it up. Hey, remember that old coin we found in the rock pool?’
‘The Spanish coin with the head on one side and the ship on the other?’
‘Yeah. I found it the other day. Wait here, I’ll get it.’
Jake came back with the coin resting on his thumb. ‘Heads it’s yours, tails it’s mine,’ he called, flipping the coin high. It landed, bounced and disappeared between a crack in the timber decking. His oil-stained hands gripped the handrail to swing over, but released it when he spotted a boat coming around the headland. ‘We’d better get back. That’s the old man. What day on the weekend?’
‘Saturday, mid-morning, if that’s okay?’
‘I’ll have everything ready.’ I leaned forward and planted a kiss on his cheek.
‘What was that for?’
‘For never changing.’
‘Wow!’ Dad said, watching me make the sandwiches. ‘You won’t starve. Let’s have an easy dinner, a barbecue?’
‘Thanks for mentioning that. The boys are staying for dinner; they’re spending the night at Jake’s. We’ll need lots of sausages, bread, some salad stuff, maybe eggs, and breakfast cereal. Maybe some soft drink?’
Dad rolled his eyes. ‘Do I have time to get a bank loan before they arrive?’
‘You said that I could invite my friends.’ I reached out and hugged him. ‘Thanks, Dad. Oh, and can we have some chips and maybe some biscuits?’
‘Do we need party hats?’
‘Very funny. Where does Aunt Cass keep the esky?’
‘In the garage.’ I started walking. ‘There’s a cupboard, it’s on the bottom shelf.’
Beside the esky was a fancy cardboard box, marked Photographs. I sat on the esky, placed the box on my lap and took off the lid. It was full to the brim with photographs of Grandad, Gran, Aunt Cass, Mum and a dog that I never knew they had. I placed the lid back, took the box and went in search of Mum.
We sat around the dining table listening to Aunt Cass’s commentary. ‘Kim, check out our hair. I can’t believe that we left the house looking like that!’ Aunt Cass’s hair was the same now as it was back then. I struggled not to laugh, but Mum couldn’t hold back. Her laugher took to the sky.
I held up a photograph of the dog being bathed. ‘What was the dog’s name?’ I asked.
‘Pepper,’ said Aunt Cass. ‘He was allergic to something in the garden. He never stopped sneezing, did he, Kim?’ We turned to Mum. Her face was pale. ‘Kim, are you, all right?
‘I think I might take a nap,’ said Mum, leaving her chair slowly. My eyes locked on Aunt Cass’s.
‘Here,’ I’ll come with you,’ Aunt Cass offered.
‘Stay with Steph. Show her the photograph of your first boyfriend, the one with you on the back of his little red Australia Post motorbike. You’ll love it, Steph.’
It was mid-morning, and Dad wasn’t home yet from shopping. I started pacing. ‘Do you have to do that?’ asked Aunt Cass. ‘It’s becoming annoying.’
‘How come Dad’s not home? Do you think he’s had an accident? He’s not a good driver.’
‘Your father is an excellent driver.’
I shook my head. ‘He’s not, you know.’
Everyone had arrived and congregated around the frangipani tree. I walked outside and took Libby and Willow aside. ‘I don’t want to leave my mum till Dad arrives home. You go ahead. I’ll meet you at the boatshed. Libby, introduce everyone to Jake.’ She nodded.
‘Leave it up to us,’
said Willow.
Just then I heard Dad’s Jeep pulling into the driveway. ‘I have to see my dad,’ I explained, and started running.
Dad turned off the ignition. ‘The prices here are ridiculous.’ I didn’t care. My focus was on Mum.
‘Dad,’ I said as his door opened, ‘I think you should check on Mum. She’s in bed.’
Dad handed me a bulging butcher’s bag and made for the house. ‘Put the bag in the fridge, Steph,’ he called.
‘Steph,’ said Aunt Cass moving my finger away from my mouth. ‘Your nail is bleeding. Wait here, I’ll get a bandaid.’
I could hear Dad on the phone, and moved in closer to listen. ‘I’d appreciate that, thank you,’ he said and hung up.
I sat back at the table waiting for Aunt Cass to return. Dad walked in.
‘How is Mum?’
Dad pulled out a chair. ‘She’s resting. I’ve asked Aunt Cass’s doctor to pop in.’ His words made my body relax.
Aunt Cass went to put the bandaid on my nail, but Dad reached out and took it from her.
‘We’re at Jake’s dad’s boatshed. Call if you want me,’ I said, checking my phone with my free hand, ‘or I can stay.’
‘Go,’ he said, releasing my hand, ‘have fun.’
I went to walk out the kitchen back door but stopped. ‘Hey, Dad, call me once the doctor’s seen Mum, okay?’
‘Stop worrying.’
‘Will you call? Maybe I should wait …’ I said, about to close the door.
‘Yes, I’ll call, now go.’
‘Where are they up to?’ I asked Libby, who was flirting with Jake when I walked into the boatshed.
‘They’re mapping out the registration page,’ she said, pointing to Richard and Kevin at the bench on computers. Richard glanced up, gave me a wink and went back to work. ‘Willow’s creating a design for the question cards. Paul’s scrolling through websites for possible links. Kevin bought the URL, livingvoice.com.au, and it’s all moving forward, I guess.’ Libby reached out and touched the bridge of my nose.
‘You’re worried?’
I took a deep breath. ‘Is it that obvious?’
