If he could turn back time, how far back would he go? ‘I’m really sorry,’ he repeated. ‘I can’t begin to tell you how bad I feel for never calling, never writing. I was a jerk. And then after Courtney told me you got cancer and lost your leg, I thought about getting in touch, but I didn’t know what to say.’ He silently begged her to understand. Begged her to believe he was telling the truth.
All those years ago, he’d wanted to make plans for a future which included Hope and after she’d left that summer, he’d missed her so much he’d contemplated following her to Africa until he heard about her cancer from Courtney. Then, like he’d just told her, he hadn’t known what to do or say, so instead he’d said and done nothing, and had lived with that regret ever since.
‘No one knew what to say,’ she said, ‘but at least they tried.’
‘How can I make it up to?’
She smiled. ‘By doing this. By being friends. By getting to know each other again.’
He nodded. ‘I can do that.’ He wanted more, but friendship was a good place to start.
By the time they reached the carpark, he didn’t want to say goodbye. Hope slowed her pace as they neared her car and it was clear she didn’t want this time together to end either.
‘We should have dinner sometime,’ he suggested, keeping his tone light. ‘For old time’s sake.’
Hope nodded with more enthusiasm than he’d expected. ‘I’d love that. What about tonight?’
Disappointment filled him. He sighed. ‘Sorry, I can’t. I already have plans.’
When her smile dropped, he realised she thought he was making an excuse. He put a hand on her arm and squeezed gently. ‘I’d love to have dinner with you tonight, but I’ve offered to drive Bill and Beth into Geelong to catch up with some friends. We’re staying overnight and I won’t be back until late tomorrow afternoon.’ He could have called Beth and told her he couldn’t help and book them a seat on the train instead, but he didn’t like letting her down. ‘Could we take a rain check?’
He held his breath waiting for her reply. When she smiled again, relief swept through him.
‘What night works best for you?’ she asked.
‘Weeknights aren’t usually great, but Fridays generally work because I finish early.’
‘Courtney said something about going to the pub on Friday with everyone. Did she mention it to you?
His shook his head. ‘No.’
‘I know she wanted you to come, so let’s catch up then.’
His heart sank a little. He’d hoped she knew he wanted to have dinner alone—the two of them—not with the rest of the group but he’d take whatever he could just to spend time with her. ‘Sounds good,’ he said. If it went well on Friday night, he’d invite her over for dinner at his place another time.
‘Awesome. See you on Friday night.’ She got into her car and he watched her until she turned the corner and drove out of sight.
Indy barked and he turned and laughed. She was staring after Hope with her sad face. He ruffled her ears. Indy was no different from him. A sucker for a beautiful woman.
Now all he had to do was make sure he didn’t stuff things up again.
Chapter 16
On Friday night the contents of Hope’s wardrobe lay on the bedroom floor. She’d changed outfits three times. Denim jeans felt too casual, the only dress she’d brought with her too dressy, a skirt not quite right.
The bedroom door opened, and Courtney stuck her head around it, grinning. ‘Aren’t you ready yet?’
‘I have no idea what I’m supposed to wear.’ Hope pointed to the mess of clothes scattered on the floor like autumn leaves. ‘Nothing I have works.’
‘I have a dress you can borrow.’ Courtney dashed out and returned moments later. She tossed the simple black dress at Hope. ‘It’ll fit. Hurry up or we’ll be late.’
Hope pulled the dress over her head and smoothed the skirt over her hips, staring at herself in the mirror. The dress fell to mid-calf. She was probably overdressed for dinner at the pub, but she had to admit the dress suited her perfectly, especially since she’d lost some weight.
She took more care than usual on her makeup and instead of twisting her hair into the loose, messy bun she usually favoured, she straightened it until it hung like a glossy waterfall down her back. Satisfied with how she looked, she slipped ballet flats onto her feet and tried to convince herself all the effort wasn’t for Mitchell’s benefit.
After their walk on the beach, even though they hadn’t seen each other since, they’d been in constant contact. Mitch sent text messages every few hours during the day—often with photos of cute animals he was treating—and called every evening to say goodnight. Hope eagerly awaited those calls which lasted hours. She’d lie in bed with the lights out and they’d talk about everything. It felt like old times only better, and each night she fell asleep looking forward to his next text.
By the time Friday rolled around, she was so excited to see him, she’d barely been able to concentrate all day and after accidentally putting some of Courtney’s expressed breast milk into her mug instead of normal milk, Courtney had suggested she go for a run. She’d returned an hour later with her thoughts still full of Mitchell and no idea what to do about it.
‘Looking good, all of you,’ Margot said, glancing up from her position on the couch. She had a sleeping baby in each arm and another one in the bouncer at her feet.
‘You should put them in their cots, Mum,’ Courtney warned. She walked to the hallway, stood at the mirror and checked her teeth to make sure she had no lipstick on them.
‘Not yet. I don’t get much time to have them to myself. If I don’t sit here and look at them, I won’t learn how to tell them apart. Especially these two.’ She gazed lovingly at her identical granddaughters—one cradled in each arm.
‘Call me if you’re worried about Ollie.’
‘Darling, stop worrying. He’s fine,’ Margot said. ‘It’s probably a touch of croup.’
‘Or bronchiolitis. Or asthma. Or pneumonia.’
‘Honey,’ Lachie warned. ‘He’s fine. Look at him. And promise me you’ll stop going to Doctor Google when I’m not home. It’s not healthy.’
Courtney shot Lachie a look. ‘Watch him closely please, Mum. He’s been coughing a lot, especially after his feeds. I noticed he was struggling to breathe he was coughing so hard. If he coughs after you give him his bottle, make sure you sit him upright. And there’s plenty more expressed breast milk in the fridge if you can’t get him to settle.’
‘Darling, if Lachlan says Ollie’s fine, then he’s fine. He should know. He’s a doctor,’ Margot said. ‘Now, stop panicking. I raised you and Sam without needing a single trip to the hospital. I know what I’m doing.’
As if he knew they were talking about him, Oliver chose that moment to start coughing again.
Hope frowned. It didn’t sound like croup to her. She bit her lip and glanced at Lachlan. He didn’t seem perturbed. She made a mental note to have a listen to Oliver’s chest later that night—when Courtney and Lachie were in bed. There was no way she wanted to alarm her cousin unnecessarily, but Oliver’s cough sounded like whooping cough. It was going around, and the triplets were still too young to be fully immunised even though Hope and Lachie had been vaccinated when Courtney was pregnant and some of the vaccine would have passed onto the babies while they were in utero. Margot and Courtney had both been vaccinated recently too.
Margot waved them off. ‘Go on. Off you go. Have fun and remember don’t drink too much.’
‘I’m not drinking.’ Courtney cupped her hands to her breasts. ‘Feeding, remember.’
‘Nothing’s stopping me,’ Hope said with a wave as she headed out the door in front of Courtney.
Lachie drove, and they arrived at the pub less than five minutes later. The entire building could have been plucked from an Irish village.
Hope entered ahead of Courtney and Lachie. To her left, a timber bar stretched the length of the long
narrow room. Tall stools—most of them occupied—ran along the edge of the bar. Small tables for two were nestled against the windows, with nothing on them except menus and salt and pepper shakers.
‘I can’t believe in all the years I’ve been to the Point I’ve never been here,’ Hope said.
‘You weren’t old enough back then,’ Courtney said. ‘This is the pub most of the locals go to. The other ones are for the tourists.’ She wove her way through tables and patrons.
It was packed and the music was pumping. Hope followed Courtney to a table in the furthest back corner. Jordan was already there, seated beside a woman Hope assumed was his girlfriend, Elizabeth.
He stood and gave Courtney a hug and kiss, then greeted Lachie with a hug and back slap. He turned to Hope and hugged her too. ‘Good to see you again, Hope.’ He indicated the woman beside him. ‘This is Liz, the love of my life.’
Liz smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. Interesting. ‘Nice to meet you,’ Hope said.
‘Can I get you girls a drink?’ Jordan asked once the girls were seated.
‘Sparkling water for me,’ Courtney said. ‘I’m breast feeding.’
‘And a sparkling wine for me,’ Hope said. ‘I’m celebrating.’
Jordan left for the bar with Lachie in tow.
‘Have you known Jordan long?’ Liz asked, after the men were out of earshot.
‘Hmm. Must be coming up twenty years or so I guess.’ Hope turned to Courtney. ‘Do you think twenty years?’
‘Yeah, must be.’
‘Jordan said you’re an amazing mother,’ Liz told Courtney.
‘That’s sweet of him.’
‘Is it hard?’ Liz asked.
Courtney groaned theatrically. ‘You have no idea. Tonight’s the first time I’ve been out of the house on my own without them. I don’t know whether to cry because I miss them, cry because I’m exhausted, or cry with joy that I’m having a night off. Seriously, since they arrived, my brain has turned to mush. I haven’t managed to finish one adult conversation in weeks.’
‘Don’t listen to her,’ Hope said. ‘She’s doing an amazing job.’
Lachie and Jordan reappeared with the drinks.
Liz turned to Hope. ‘What are you celebrating?’
Hope held her glass aloft. ‘To old times.’ She chinked her glass with Courtney’s and sat back in her chair.
‘To old times,’ Courtney chorused.
Liz raised her eyebrows. ‘That sounds interesting.’
Hope was about to explain how long they’d known each other when Mitchell entered the pub. She smiled at him and when he grinned and waved in return, tingles chased themselves up and down her spine. His smile was slow and sexy, and it seemed to suck every bit of oxygen from the room. Or perhaps that was just her lungs.
She’d always been attracted to his thick, dirty-blond hair that always looked like he’d just come out of the surf, but he’d had a shave and a haircut and tonight he looked devastatingly handsome in his navy chinos and navy and white check shirt.
She couldn’t take her eyes off him as he weaved his way towards their table, greeting almost everyone in the pub with a handshake, a hug or a slap on the back. Everyone had always adored Mitch.
When he finally made it to their table and slid into the empty chair beside her, Hope’s senses went into overdrive and heat rushed through her, warming her cheeks. He looked good and he smelled great too.
He greeted her with a kiss on the cheek and although it was just a friendly peck, a shiver ran down her spine. When he casually put his arm over the back of her chair then lowered it around her back and whispered, ‘you look stunning’, her heart started to pound so hard against her ribs she was surprised he couldn’t feel it.
When his leg touched hers under the table for a second time, she knew it wasn’t an accident. It was impossible to ignore the stirring in her belly. She felt like someone waking from a coma. It wasn’t just the warmth coming off Mitchell’s thigh, or the heady scent of his aftershave that was sending shivers of desire through her. The signals he was sending left her knowing without question what he wanted.
She smiled inwardly wondering what his reaction would be if he knew she wanted the same thing.
They ordered tasting plates and drinks and spent the next few hours bantering and laughing like old times. The years melted away and Hope couldn’t remember the last time she’d enjoyed herself so much. After walking out on Brett, she’d lost most of her friends.
While everyone ate and drank, Hope found herself mostly talking to Mitchell. They picked up the easy rhythm of their phone conversations and chatted seamlessly about the latest renovations at his house, the Simpsons, and Ian’s increasing forgetfulness, of Margot’s recovery from her surgery, of the triplets and about the fun run. The conversation then shifted to how Clancy and Ian had decided to make themselves personally responsible for ensuring Mitchell didn’t remain single for much longer.
‘Why are you still single, Mitch?’ Liz asked, clearly overhearing their conversation. ‘A good-looking guy like you, I would have thought you’d be married with kids at your age.’
‘Hey,’ Jordan said, pulling Liz closer to him and trying to kiss her cheek. ‘I’m the only good-looking guy in the room, okay?’
Hope glanced at Mitchell. He didn’t seem bothered by her question. He also didn’t seem to notice that she’d batted her eyelashes at him.
Hope looked across the table at Liz. Interesting woman. During dinner, she’d been pleasant and polite, but something about her rubbed Hope the wrong way. She reminded her of the type of woman who was more attracted to the title “Doctor” than the guy himself. For Jordan’s sake Hope prayed he wasn’t about to have his heart broken. He was clearly besotted by Liz although Hope wasn’t sure what he saw in her.
‘He’s still single because he’s too picky,’ Lachie said from the other end of the table.
‘Just waiting for the right woman,’ Mitchell replied before slowly bringing his beer to his lips and taking another long swig.
Their eyes met and the look he gave her caused another warm fizz to run through Hope’s veins. She dropped her gaze to his hands and when she started wondering what they’d feel like on her bare skin and found she couldn’t focus on what everyone else around the table was saying, she knew it was time for some fresh air. If she sat beside Mitch a moment longer, she’d self-combust. All she wanted to do was plant her lips on his and deal with the consequences later.
She leaned forward for her drink, took a sip and tried to swallow. When she met Mitch’s gaze again, he skewered her with a look that made her breath quicken. She felt her face flame again. Maybe she’d drunk too much alcohol. Or maybe she hadn’t drunk enough.
Pushing back her chair she leaned down and picked up her handbag. ‘Will you excuse me for a moment? I need to go to the bathroom.’ Every cell in her body screamed for him to touch her.
‘I’ll join you,’ Liz said, pushing her own chair back and grabbing her purse.
They threaded through the narrow gap between the tables to the bathrooms.
‘What’s the deal with you and Mitchell?’ Liz asked, as they stood facing the mirrors to reapply their lipstick.
Hope ignored her racing heart. ‘Nothing. We’re just good friends.’
Liz tilted her head. ‘Could have fooled me. He hasn’t taken his eyes off you all night. The sexual tension between you two is so hot you’re going to explode if you sit there much longer.’ She laughed. ‘If you haven’t slept together already, I suggest you do something about that or he’s going to need a cold shower every night for the rest of his life.’
In the mirror Hope saw her cheeks redden further and she quickly dipped her head and ran her hands under the cold water and brought them to her face. Were her feelings for Mitchell that obvious? If Liz, a stranger, could read the play like this, what were Courtney, Lachlan and Jordan thinking?
‘What about you and Jordy?’ Hope asked, trying to avoid replying to Liz’
s comment.
Liz shrugged. ‘I don’t know. He’s a nice guy...’
Hope sighed inwardly. Just as she expected. It was clear in Liz’s tone. Jordan was a great guy but...
Liz tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. ‘It’s his past that worries me.’
Hope frowned. ‘What do you mean?’
Liz stared into the mirror as she fixed her hair. ‘He never talks about his family or what life was like growing up. It’s like it’s a dark void. As if he never existed before he came to Macarthur Point.’
Hope hesitated. She didn’t know all the details, but she knew enough about Jordan and Mitchell’s upbringing before coming to Macarthur Point to know they hadn’t had an easy time. There was a reason neither men spoke much of their past. She didn’t blame them. She didn’t often talk about her past either.
She held open the bathroom door for Liz and they headed down the hallway to the bar.
‘I guess you’d have to ask Jordan,’ Hope said, ‘but perhaps it’s not that important. I mean if you love him, surely it doesn’t matter if you don’t know much about his childhood.’
Liz sighed. ‘It’s more than that. If Jordan had his way, I’d be barefoot and pregnant and popping out babies every two years. That’s not what I want.’
Hope nodded. ‘That’s sound like Jordan.’ Even when he was younger, he’d talked about having a big family and he’d dropped over to the house a handful of times in the past few weeks to see the triplets. He was a natural with babies.
‘Jordan said you’re a nurse,’ Liz said, changing the subject.
‘I am.’
‘Are you going to stay and get a job here?’
Hope froze and a sick feeling landed in her stomach. In her all daydreaming about Mitchell this past week, she hadn’t stopped to think about what would happen about her job.
‘I’m not sure,’ she said carefully. ‘Because of my job I need to live in a capital city.’
Liz frowned. ‘Can’t nurses work anywhere?’
‘I can’t. I work in paediatric oncology. It’s a specialised area and the only places I can do that are in Melbourne. The Royal Children’s Hospital, Peter Mac or Monash Kids.’
Holding onto Hope Page 15
