by Wendy Smith
“We went and saw the baby.”
The baby? “What was that, bud?”
There’s a clatter on the line, and Mum’s voice comes down the receiver. “Hi, who is it?”
“Mum, it’s Adam.”
She lets out a contented sigh. “Adam. It’s so good to hear from you. Do you have long to talk?”
“Not long. I was hoping I could talk to Corey.”
“Corey moved out.” Her tone is clipped, suggesting she’s not too happy about it. But I guess it was par for the course. He was always the most independent one out of all of us.
I bite my lip before asking the next question. “Has anyone heard from Lily?”
There’s a moment of silence. “Mum?”
“Lily’s back. She’s living with Eric Murphy.”
If I thought in any capacity that I’d moved on, that all falls away in this moment. I’d thought my heart had begun to heal, but Mum’s words just twist the knife even further.
“I have to go. My time’s up,” I whisper.
“I wish we had longer. Take care of yourself, Adam.”
Nausea sweeps me, and my legs crumple under me. A reassuring hand lands on my shoulder and I look up to see Ben, Steph’s brother. He’s the one who gave me the idea to enlist, and over the past few months has become like a brother.
“What’s wrong?”
I lick my lips because I don’t want to put my foot in my mouth. After all, I am dating his sister.
“I won’t tell Steph if it’s about your ex.”
“Lily’s moved in with someone else.”
He frowns. “Well, screw her. Let’s get back to the barracks. There’s a card game going on I don’t want to miss.”
“Why do I have the feeling we’re about to get into trouble?”
Ben chuckles. “Because we probably are.”
I shrug. “What have I got to lose?”
My heart still aches as he walks beside me. I’ll work with these men here, some longer than others. But it reminds me so much in a way of my family and the closeness I’ve shared with my brothers all my life. This is my new home.
I really have lost her.
8
Adam
Now
Saturday afternoon and I can’t stop thinking about her.
Somehow I always knew if I came home that one flutter of those long eyelashes would pull me back under her spell. Except she doesn’t flutter eyelashes at me—she frowns.
Why am I left feeling that I owe her some kind of explanation when she’s the one who owes me? Maybe I should be angry but whenever I close my eyes I see her, standing beside the car as I approach, that bead of sweat sitting right above the cleft of her breasts.
This is not the girl that walked away from me. She’s more confident, not to mention stubborn. I would have helped her get that tyre fixed in a heartbeat, although what she really needs are new ones.
The thought of her and Max driving around in that car with the balding tyres drives me crazy. It’s funny—for years I haven’t been here, and while I might have thought about her, I never worried about her. Now, I do. I’ve only seen her twice.
This house makes me a little stir-crazy.
James hasn’t reappeared for me to get any more information out of. Mum’s not about to spill any beans. Dad just follows what Mum tells him to, same as he always has.
I grab my car keys and head outside. Mum and Dad probably assume it’s a rental, but the first place I went when I hit Auckland was to pick this baby up. Twelve years of having no one else to provide for and being able to save my pennies had left me with a nice nest egg. It was good to spend some of it. My apartment is on the market too. With prices having risen a lot since I bought it, my nest egg will only grow.
So, I’d bought a car online and picked it up, heading straight for Copper Creek. The sleek, black, brand new Holden Commodore V8 roars as I hit the accelerator. It’s comforting and luxurious, and it’s mine. There’s nothing keeping me in the US, and while I’m undecided as to how long I’ll be here, having one of these cars was something I always dreamed of.
Now, I take off toward the exit to town, diverting down the back road that leads to the cove. After running into Lily yesterday, I aborted my visit. I didn’t want to make things more awkward, following her down the road. The cove used to be one of my favourite places, and I’ve spent hours walking along the sand there with Lily, holding hands and finding quiet moments against the background of the watering hole.
The road has never been sealed, probably never will be. As kids we skidded down here on our bikes, kicking up the dirt and making each other cough. Houses are few and far between, and I have some vague memory of Eric living this way. If I can avoid seeing him I will, but maybe Lily … Even if I see no one, it’s good to spin the wheels and get some dirt and gravel under them. The car will be caked in dust by the time I get home, but it feels so good to be alive.
A flash of white, and a rabbit ducks out from under the fence and onto the road. The tyres squeal as I hit the brakes hard.
“Well, the brakes work,” I mutter.
Out of nowhere, a small boy in jeans and a grey shirt streaks across the road after the rabbit. A hard lump forms in my throat. If I had swerved or been just a few seconds earlier, I could have easily hit him. I know this boy.
“Max,” I cry as I unbuckle my seat belt and open the door.
Max stops dead in his tracks, as if oblivious to the danger. His eyes grow big at the sight of me.
I step out of the car and run, throwing myself to my knees in front of him. My heart hurts at the thought of anything happening to Max.
“What on earth were you doing?”
Max lifts his hand, pointing at the rabbit. It’s quite happily nibbling weeds in the next paddock. “I saw that,” he says.
“Where’s your mother?”
His lower lip wobbles. “She’s asleep. I’m s’posed to be, but I woke up and saw the rabbit.”
I let out a long breath. This kid. I’ve never been one for children, always thought about them in a distant sense, but Max tugs on my heartstrings, and I have to admit I’m drawn to him. The more I look at him, the more I see his mother. “How about we get you back to her?”
Max looks around, and his expression changes to confusion as if he’s just realised how far he is from the house.
“Come on. I’ll give you a lift.”
Yesterday, he didn’t stop talking. Today, he says nothing, and I have a lightbulb moment of what’s causing his hesitation. Stranger danger. I lick my lips. “Hey, Max. We’re friends, right? You know your mum knows me. I was on my way to see her when I found you. Maybe you can show me where she is?”
At the mention of Lily, he beams, and I take his hand in mine, leading him around the car to the passenger side. He lets me buckle him in and as I sit in the driver’s side, he points at a house off the road. The houses are few and far between down this road, it makes sense. “Over there.”
“Where’s the driveway, buddy?”
He points straight ahead. “Up there.”
I start out slowly to avoid missing the turn. Not that there’s much chance of that. Max nearly hyperventilates pointing out the gate. It’s hard not to smile around him; his enthusiasm is infectious.
Lily stands on the decking, and as I draw closer, I hear her calling for her son. I pull up outside the house, flashing her a smile as I round the car and let Max out.
“Max. What are you doing?” she yells, her eyebrows furrowed in concern. She barely looks at me as she runs, stumbling in the dirt.
“There was a rabbit. Just like in the book you read me.”
“Oh, Max.” The exhaustion in her voice is obvious, and she hugs him tight as she cries.
I shift my gaze to the house. It’s an old rustic house. Small, but enough for a family. It’s rundown and in need of maintenance—the red tin roof needs painting and the guttering is failing in one corner. My blood boils at the thought of her living in a hou
se like this. I wonder if she’s as neglected as this place.
“And then you go and get in a car with someone you don’t really know.” She’s telling Max off now, tears still falling, irritation in her voice.
“To be fair, I did have to talk him into it. We’re not exactly strangers.” I place my hand on her shoulder.
Wrong move. She turns as she stands and brushes my hand away. “You might have met him a couple of times, but you don’t know him. If he gets in your car, he could get in anyone’s.”
In comparison to the day before she looks so tired, with purple smudges under her eyes indicating just how sleep-deprived she is.
“Okay, okay. I’m sorry. I didn’t want him running out on the road again.”
She closes her eyes. “I’m sorry for yelling. It’s just one thing after another right now, and if anything had happened to him I don’t know what I would have done.”
Max’s expression falls as she breaks down again. She’s so frail, thin, as if she’d snap if a strong wind came up. After all this time, after everything, I ache to hold her in my arms.
“Lily,” I whisper, moving closer to her. She opens her eyes, and my heart hurts to see how broken she is. Someone’s done a real number on her. “Hey, if you want some help with anything, I’m back.”
She shakes her head. “I don’t need your help.”
“Really? You look exhausted, this place is falling down, and Max is out of control.” I don’t mean it, but the words are out of my mouth before I can stop them. Lily scowls, grabbing Max’s arm.
“Come on, Max. Let’s go get a drink and a cookie.” She raises her face and looks down her nose at me, that precious nose I used to love, right above the lips I kissed more often than I can count. “Thanks, Adam, but no thanks.”
“Whatever you have stuck up your butt about me, it’s been there a while. Can’t you just accept help at face value?”
She pushes Max toward the house. “Go and get a cookie. I’ll be in to make a drink in a moment.”
Without so much as a backward glance, Max takes off, running into the house. Lily sighs and moves her gaze back to me. “You don’t get to come back after all this time and tell me what to do.”
“I’m not. I just want to help.” I can’t remember her being so frustrating. We just used to get along.
“Then go back to wherever the hell you ran away to and leave me alone. Leave us alone. The last person I need parenting advice from is you.” She spits the words at me, so unlike the Lily I knew. What happened to you?
“I ran away because you didn’t want me.”
The silence is uncomfortable as we stare at each other. Slowly, her lips turn down and she sighs as if struggling to know what to say next. “I never stopped wanting you, Adam, but you never looked back, and you never rescued me from any of it. I was so dumb. Eighteen, thinking I was going to get to marry my knight in shining armour, but you were never that. You said all the right things, but when it came down to it, you walked away.”
She might as well have stabbed me over and over in the heart. It’s so far from the truth.
She turns toward the house, taking two steps before I grab her arm. “What the hell are you talking about? You walked away from me.”
The pink in her cheeks disappears. “Go away. We don’t need you.”
“Like hell I will. I want to know what you mean. I didn’t come here for a fight; I wanted to see you.”
She moans as if in pain, and her eyes are so sad I want to hold her again and reassure her everything is okay. “Why? After all this time? Why would you suddenly care?”
I don’t know what else to do but watch as she walks away, running when the scream comes from the house.
“Max,” she cries.
Letting out a sigh, I shake my head and follow. He’s so much work for her. And what’s she doing, living in the middle of nowhere by herself?
I push though the screen door, following the sound to the back of the building. Max stands in the middle of the kitchen. Cookies are everywhere. Lily scrambles around on her hands and knees, franticly picking them up and placing them back into a container.
“What the …”
“Help me find the last cookie. Max is freaking out because he counted them and now he’s lost one.”
Holy shit. I stand here, one eyebrow cocked. Lily looks back over her shoulder. “Please, Adam. If you’re serious about helping, look for the damn cookie with me.”
I drop to the floor and crawl under the big old dining table, bumping into her as she comes the other way. “Here it is.” I reach under a chair and grab it, backing out and standing. I hand Max the cookie. “There you go, big fella. Take good care of it.”
He beams, and takes a big bite. I take the moment to look around. The outside of the house might be rundown, but the inside is spotless. Anything fragile is up and I guess out of Max’s reach, though it won’t be long before that becomes an issue. It must be so much work for her.
Everything I see makes me hurt just a little more for Lily. If she’s alone, it doesn’t explain the ring. If she’s with someone, why the hell isn’t he taking better care of her?
“Thanks,” Lily says.
I watch Max wolf down that cookie and count the ones still in the container. “There are sixteen left, Mum.”
Shifting my gaze back to Lily, I smile. “Why don’t you go back to your sleep and I’ll stay with Max for the afternoon?”
Max nods, a grin spreading across his face. “Adam can play with me, Mum.”
Uncertainty crosses her face.
“Lily. Go and have a lie down. I’ve got this.”
Her eyes soften as she looks between Max and I. “I can’t expect … you can’t.”
“Mum, we’re good. Go and sleep. I won’t get in any cars again. Not even Adam’s.”
I flick a smile at Max. At least he understands how much his mother needs a rest.
Lily sucks in her bottom lip, looking between the two of us. She sighs. “Fine. Max. Be good for Adam.” Running her fingers through his hair, she bends and kisses his cheek. He rolls his eyes, but leans into her. They’re clearly very close.
If she weren’t so tired, I’m guessing she’d never let this ride, but she does, and as she walks to the kitchen door, she turns and meets my eyes, a grateful smile on her face. My heart’s in my throat all over again. She’s still so beautiful.
What happened?
9
Lily
I feel as if I’ve been sleeping forever when I open my eyes. The clock beside the bed tells me it’s 5.16 p.m., and the scent of spaghetti and meatballs floats through the air. It’s not unusual. It’s Max’s favourite dish, and he could eat it for every meal. No doubt he’s told Adam all about it.
Adam. I don’t know why I trust him; I’ve got no cause to, but he brought Max home, even if it made my blood boil to see Max in his car. Max is my whole heart, but he could well be the death of me and himself one day. It’s a fine line we walk. As he gets older, he understands more, but I’m less likely to be able to control him.
Every day gets simultaneously easier and harder somehow.
For twelve years, I’ve managed to eke out an existence here. We lost the house to the bank when Mum died. Selling the contents has given me bits of income I supplement with the small flock of sheep Mrs Murphy left me and a top-up I get from welfare. It’s not much, but we get by.
I sit up and throw my legs over the side of the bed. My jeans are on the floor where I dropped them, and I pull them up, noting they’re no longer getting stuck on my ankles or hips. Feeding a pre-teen means sacrifices.
Making my way down the narrow stairs, I turn the corner and enter the kitchen. Max sits quietly at the table, reading a book, while Adam stands at the stove. The sight makes me want to cry. This was what I dreamed of for so long. The impossible dream.
“Hey.” My voice cracks as I speak. “That smells amazing.”
Max looks up, that cheeky grin of his lighting up the r
oom. “Mum, Adam’s making my favourite.”
“I could smell that from upstairs.” My gaze locks with Adam’s.
“I hope you don’t mind. I raided the freezer.”
My heart sinks. Of course he has.
Walking across the kitchen, I open the freezer door. He’s used two freezer bags of meat. I portion it out to last. I hold my breath and stop myself from sighing. It’s not his fault. He wasn’t to know.
We’ll make it work. We always do.
“Food’s nearly ready,” Adam says. “Take a seat, Lily. I’ll serve it up.”
I grab a jug of orange cordial from the fridge and throw in some ice cubes from the freezer. As I take it to the table, I grab a stack of plastic cups along the way.
Pouring Max a drink, I sit next to him.
“I made enough for more than just the three of us. I guess though maybe you have a husband to feed too?”
I lift my head slowly until our gazes lock. Is that him digging for information, or is he just being polite? It’s so weird him being here, uncomfortable, and yet the way it’s meant to be. Maybe that’s just wishful thinking.
“No, just us. Whatever’s left we’ll eat tomorrow.”
He licks his lips and pauses before turning back to the stove. “Of course how much is left depends on how much Max eats.”
I laugh. Max can eat seconds and has been known to eat thirds. The more he eats, the less I do. It’s worth it, though, to see my boy growing up happy and healthy.
Adam places plates of spaghetti in front of us, and the smell of tomato and meat is divine. My mouth waters as he passes me a fork.
“This looks amazing,” I say.
“I aim to please.” He waggles his eyebrows, and my stomach somersaults in direct defiance to how I want to feel. Because I don’t want to feel anything.
Max stabs a meatball, and twirls his pasta around his fork over and over. He’s eaten this so many times he’s an expert in it. Watching him enjoy it is an eternal delight. He takes a big bite, swallowing a chunk of food.
“Is it good?” I ask.
