by Wendy Smith
“What?” It’s not that I haven’t heard him, just can’t believe it.
“Breast cancer.”
Shit. This was one of the few things I thought serious enough to take me home. All other personal feelings would have to be put aside to focus on her. She might have bugged the hell out of all of us with her heavy-handed parenting, but she was always the driving force behind the family. I’d go so far as to call her a force of nature. She’d ruled her roost with an iron first, or at least she had until Corey and I grew old enough to rebel.
Corey was the start of it, getting in trouble, running with the wrong crowd. In an attempt to remove him from the bad influences, Dad had changed jobs and we’d moved to Copper Creek. Dad took over management of the nearby hydroelectric power station, and we’d ended up in a place Corey nicknamed ‘Bumfuck, Nowhere’.
The closest major city was a hundred and fifty kilometres away, but for us, it might as well have been a million. I had hated it, but forgot my resentment as soon as I spotted Lily in school. Even at fourteen I knew I wanted to spend my life with her. What a mess that had turned out to be.
Lost in thought, I almost forget that James is on the other end of the line, and I swallow. “I … I’m sorry to hear that.”
“I thought you should know.”
I close my eyes. I’ve been away for twelve long years. Is this a sign to lead me home?
“Mum doesn’t want any fuss. She’s had surgery, and she’s resting up at the moment. Well, when I say resting up, you know what she’s like.”
“Being a pain in the butt?”
“She doesn’t have to be sick to be that.”
Despite myself, I laugh. James’s got the same sense of humour as the rest of us, and for the first time in forever I have pangs of homesickness. Not just because of the always lingering feeling that I have unresolved business in Copper Creek, but because I miss my family. I haven’t spoken to most of them for years. At first I was travelling, then busy after I enlisted, and by then my younger brothers—except for James—had left home.
“Thanks for letting me know.”
There’s silence for a moment before he says, “Um, so will you come home?”
I’m already debating the answer in my head. “I’ll have to see what I can work out.”
Truth is, there’s nothing to keep me here.
Maybe it’s time to go.
3
Adam
Three weeks later
It’s been a long time since I traversed this road. When I left, Dad drove me all the way to Auckland Airport, and the flight that took me to the States. I’ve long since left the main highway, and now the road twists and winds on its way to Copper Creek. I take it slow, the corners unfamiliar after all this time.
Nothing much has changed. Trees line the road, and in between them I spot sheep in the paddocks, with the occasional cow thrown in for good measure.
The radio hisses with static. I lost the signal a while ago, and I press random buttons to find the one that searches for another station.
As the sound of “The Green, Green Grass of Home” fills the car, I laugh. I can guess the source—the crackle of the vinyl album gives it away. The local radio station’s run out of the caravan park near the cove by George Matheson. The old guy must be in his seventies by now at least. Some things never change.
It’s easy to get lost in memories, but I shake it off as I draw closer.
I wonder how much has changed.
Closing in on the town, my homesickness grows. I’ve never completely forgotten, but I’ve managed to get on with my life to a certain extent.
Deep down, I’ve never been able to bear the thought of Lily being with anyone else, but that is a stupid, unrealistic way to think. Especially when she is the reason for me leaving in the first place.
Now it is time to face that fear. If I want to regain my relationship with my family, this is what I have to go through—the possibility of seeing the woman I once thought of as the love of my life with another man.
The foliage around the old house has grown substantially in the years I’ve been gone. It’s beautiful, as if the house is hiding in the bush with just the lawns and garden around it immaculate. This really is heaven on earth, and I feel home for the first time in what feels like forever looking at the house where I’d spent four short years.
Bellbirds and Tuis are everywhere, singing songs I haven’t heard in so long. I slow to take in the scenery as I make my way down the long driveway.
Stopping outside the gate, I get out of the car and push through into the yard until I reach the back door. It’s been so long. Do I knock, or just enter? I close my eyes at the memory of all the times I’ve run in and out of this door. Usually on my way to Lily’s.
Bang.
Even the distant sound of a shotgun makes me freeze. When I first decided to leave the army, Jenna was there, teaching me what I thought were her crackpot calming techniques. They turned out to be more useful than I imagined. I take deep breaths, breathing out through my mouth to get through the moment.
I open my eyes, twist the door handle, and enter.
“Hello?” I call, walking through the kitchen and into the living room.
Nothing’s changed. The polished wooden china cabinets are still along one wall, full of trophies, ornaments, and all the precious things Mum’s collected over the years.
The carpet and wallpaper still match, the dull beige colour that never seems to fade. The lounge suite’s new, but everything else looks as it did when I left.
Mum lies on the couch, her eyes closed. I smile watching her, even though I’m still pained over why she didn’t call me herself. Dad didn’t call either. The last time I spoke to her was only a few months ago, when I was thinking of proposing to Jenna. This isn’t a small thing—it’s huge. I’ve stayed away for birthdays, Christmases, and other events over the years, but this is different. She has a life-threatening illness and never said a word.
I sit on a chair opposite the couch, cracking a grin as James walks in the door. His jaw drops at the sight of me, and I stand again, embracing him when he makes his way to me. He’s a sight for sore eyes. Last time I saw him, he was six, with the same cheeky grin we all had as kids. Seeing him is so good.
“I didn’t know if you’d come,” he whispers.
“Try to keep me away. Look at you, all grown up.”
He laughs, his smile vanishing as he looks down at our sleeping mother.
“Let’s go out to the deck, catch up there.”
He nods. I can’t get over him. He must be six-foot-something-or-other, just like the rest of us. Pride leaps from my chest as I follow him.
James grabs a bottle of juice and a couple of glasses on the way out, and we take a seat on resin deck chairs sheltered from the blazing sun by a big umbrella.
“This is the life,” I say, leaning back in my chair.
He laughs. “I have so many questions I want to ask. We barely know each other. It’s good to see you.”
“I can’t believe Mum and Dad didn’t tell me themselves. Sometimes I get the feeling they don’t want me coming back.”
James twists his mouth and shrugs. “Sometimes they act weird. Maybe it’s this whole cancer thing. Even though you’ve never come back for anything else, I thought you would at least want to know.”
“I appreciate it more than I can tell you. Your timing was perfect.”
My little brother cocks his head and looks at me curiously.
“James, can you go to the store and get some milk? We’re about to run out.” Mum’s voice comes from the house, and I stand, turning towards the sound. She pushes open the screen door, the flush in her cheeks draining as she looks at me. “Adam?”
She chokes down a sob, taking a step toward me, but I make up the distance, pulling her into my arms. Her eyes shine as she takes me in, raising her fingers to my beard.
“It’s so good to see you, but what are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed t
o be in some foreign country doing something important?”
I grin. “I am doing something important. I came to see you.”
She frowns. “Why?”
“Why do you think? James tracked me down. He thought you might have something to tell me.”
She shakes her head. “It’s nothing. Not worth you coming all the way here for. I know you have a busy life.”
I let her go. “I’m beginning to think you don’t want me here.”
“I’m just surprised you came. I thought after all these years there wasn’t anything in Copper Creek for you. I’m fine now. You don’t have to worry about me.”
This is weird. Even though she hadn’t been the one to let me know, I thought she’d be happy to have me home. “I’ll be here as long as I need to be. In the meantime, you can tell me what’s going on.”
I follow her back inside, shooting a confused glance at James. James shrugs, and I wrinkle my nose.
“Nothing’s been going on. I was sick, had surgery and treatment.”
On the kitchen counter is a steaming cup of coffee. The smell is divine. I know it’s only instant, but after my long flight and drive, a coffee would be amazing around now.
Mum stops at the kitchen counter to pick up the cup. “Do you want a coffee?”
“What I want is to understand why it took James to track me down and tell me what was going on. Why you didn’t call me? Didn’t you think I’d want to know my mother had cancer?”
She turns toward the living room, returning to the couch and sitting down, cradling her coffee. “I’m fine, Adam. No need to interrupt your life.”
Five minutes back and already I want to throttle her.
My memories are full of her and her quest to rule our lives. She liked to be in control while Dad had just faded into the background
“Well, I’m back and you just have to deal.”
She fixes her gaze on me. When I was a kid that look would fill me with fear, but I’m not a kid anymore.
I shrug. “At least James is happy to see me.”
If that’s all I get from coming home, it’s worth it.
4
Lily
The knocking on the door makes me sigh. It’s a little after two in the morning and what little sleep I’ve managed to get has been disrupted by a noise I dare not move for.
Soft light from the hallway illuminates my room, and I lie, staring at the cream paint peeling off the ceiling.
The pounding on the door grows louder, and I roll over, my head encased in my pillow in a vain attempt to drown it out.
“Lily, let me in.” Eric sounds mournful, as always. The sound of his tyres over the loose stones in the yard gave him away about fifteen minutes ago. He’s drunk again and has driven home from the pub when the last thing he should have been doing was getting in a car. My house is the turnoff before his, and somehow he always finds his way here. He might legally own the property, but this is my home until such time I choose for it not to be. Doesn’t give him the right to turn up whenever he likes.
I sigh, and pull the pillow tight as he groans loudly, slapping the door in a pathetic attempt to convince me to open it.
Smiling at the sound of footsteps, I laugh quietly as there’s a bounce on the bed and Max joins me, hiding under the other pillow. He grins in the dimly lit room, but I can see him. His smile lights up the darkest of spaces.
“Mum, Eric’s at the door,” he whispers.
“I know, sweetie. Just get some sleep.” I keep my voice low. If Eric gets any sign that I’m awake he’ll make more noise. If we keep quiet, he’ll probably fall asleep on the doorstep. He’ll be gone by morning.
“I just pretend it’s zombies.” He growls the last word, raising one hand in the shape of a claw. I stifle a giggle, far too amused to even ask him where he’s learned that. Maybe one of the kids from school.
I claw the air alongside him, and we end up laughing into our pillows. Max snuggles up against me, and I breathe him in. He’s growing way too fast.
“Night, Mum,” he whispers.
“Night night, baby,” I whisper back, kissing his forehead. I love him more than I can ever say. Even though he’s eleven, he’ll always be my baby.
The banging stops, and I close my eyes and wait for sleep. Tomorrow, Eric will show up and give me a grovelling apology. He’s never managed to get inside the house in one of these moods. I don’t know what he’d do if he did.
Max wriggles. I swear he never stays still, at least not when he’s awake.
If only I had as much energy as he does.
I walk down the stairs and open the front door to greet the morning. The yard is empty, the tyre tracks in the dirt the only indication Eric was even here.
If I know him, he’s at home licking his wounds, working out how to face me again. He’s such a creature of habit I know he’ll be here later to apologise.
He’d never given me the time of day until I’d started going out with Adam. No one had wanted to know me before then. Mum’s reputation had always been in front of me, the other kids thinking I was as crazy as she was. Before Adam, I’d had no one.
Everything good in my life came back to him. That is, until the point when he’d left town and I’d never seen him again. By the time I got away from Mum, all my focus was on Max. It’s always been so hard to talk about that period of my life. It’s not like anyone I know has been though anything remotely similar. I went through counselling, but I still shake off thoughts about that time.
By the time Max and I were settled into our new life, the barriers to finding out where Adam was were too hard to break through. I had to move on. Now, Max is my life.
“Mum, the zombies are gone.” Max walks out to join me and growls, clawing the air again and I shake my head at him, tousling his hair.
“That’s right, Max. No zombies. Not at the moment anyway.” I sigh and reach for his hand, turning back inside. The kitchen beckons as my stomach grumbles. After a night of interrupted sleep, I can’t wait for a cup of coffee and some toast.
He gives me a look that sends a shock through my system. His nose wrinkles as he narrows his eyes at me. So much like his father. My mind wanders to Adam. Why, I’ll never know. It’s not like he’s ever coming back. Yet, there are days when I can think of nothing else. Maybe because I still have so much that has never been resolved with him.
I reach the door only for Max to pull me back out. When I look down, a plain brown box is right beside the door, tucked into the corner of the deck. We both walked straight past it as we came out.
“Mum, there’s a parcel out here.”
Another one? Since we moved in, some mysterious benefactor has been leaving packages on the doorstep every so often. It’s not Eric—I know that much. If it were, he’d be announcing to the world that he was helping to support me. Corey Campbell sometimes brings me meat; Owen brings me bread and cookies; Drew sometimes pops in with pastries or books for Max. Even James visits from time to time and plays with Max, giving me a much-needed break. All the Campbell boys but the one who started a new life without any of us.
The one who still occupies my thoughts.
Usually these packages contain clothing for Max. He’s already ripped the top of the box open by the time I get there, and is foraging through it. Sure enough, there are T-shirts for him. Some are a little big, but there’s nothing he can’t grow into. Whoever it is doesn’t know him well enough to get his size right. The whole thing’s weird, but I’m grateful. The clothing he’s received over the years has meant I’ve been able to spend money I would have needed for clothes on things like food instead.
Something pink and floral catches my eye, and I bend to pick it up from the bottom of the box. It’s a dress, simple with short sleeves and a scoop neckline. I’ve lost so much weight it might be a little baggy, but it’ll be comfortable and it’s new. I haven’t had new clothing in forever.
Tears prick my eyes at the thought of how kind this person is, and for the mill
ionth time I rack my brain to work out who it could be. No idea.
“Mum. Check this out.”
I turn my attention to Max. He holds up a T-shirt, grey in colour with what looks like a rapidly disintegrating man depicted in the centre. The image is cartoony in appearance, not scary at all, and only one word graces the front of it—brains.
I chuckle. Maybe there are people out there who won’t find it appropriate, but after last night …
“Zombies, Mum. Zombies.”
Pulling him into a bear hug, I plant a kiss in Max’s soft, dark hair. “Zombies, Max.”
“Get off. I want to put my shirt on.”
I let go, and he races inside the front door and upstairs. It makes him happy, and that’s everything. I look down at the dress in my hand, smiling at it. It’s been forever since I wore a dress. Today will have to be an exception.
Following him into the house, box in hand, I climb the stairs and make my way to my bedroom. Placing the box of clothes on the bed, I slip off my T-shirt, frowning at the sight of myself in the mirror. This morning when I first got dressed, I was wearing the same old clothes. Now, with the thought of a new dress, I pick at the frays on my bra straps. It’s going to need replacing soon.
What I need is new underwear, among other things. I don’t notice sometimes how much I neglect myself until it’s staring me in the face. Max comes first, and that’s how it should be. At least my old underwear will be hidden by the dress.
I unzip and push my jeans down, tugging at the hems to get them over my feet. When they’re discarded, I slide the dress on over my head.
It’s not anything expensive or flashy, but the microfibre fabric feels smooth and soft against my skin. It might as well be the most expensive silk, and I twirl in front of the mirror, feeling like a girl again. Most of the time I wear a T-shirt and jeans. They’re cheap and last a long time, which, given the nature of some of the work around the property, I’m grateful for.
