Infinite Completion (The Infinity Series Book 1)

by Michelle Dennis

  ‘Well, I’m attending church with my family,’ I say as calmly as possible. I can’t believe the ugly green jealousy monster is rearing its head – possessiveness? Who am I kidding, I’m nobody to this beautiful man and he certainly doesn’t belong to me.

  ‘Church? What church?’ He looks at me, seeming intrigued.

  ‘My parents go to the Church of Christ, and I go sometimes – to keep Mum happy mostly.’

  Valentine props himself up on his elbow again, leaning over me. ‘Hmmm, I don’t think you’re telling me everything, Abbie, but I’ll wait.’ He gathers himself up from the floor and gazes down at me. ‘I need to have a smoke, do you want one?’

  I’m startled by his question. ‘Um, marijuana? No, I don’t—’

  He lets out a laugh. ‘Oh, Abbie! No, just a normal cigarette – but if you want to try a joint, I’ve got one.’

  I’m such an idiot! ‘Oh,’ I sigh with some relief. ‘No, no thanks, I don’t smoke at all.’

  ‘Have you tried it?’

  ‘Um, yes, I tried a cigarette with my cousin when I was nine – but no, I haven’t tried marijuana…’

  ‘Oh, no alcohol and no smoking, you’re such a good girl!’ he says. I have no idea if he means this endearingly or if he’s making fun of me.

  I’m not sure why, but I smile back at him anyway.

  ‘I only smoke when I’ve been drinking or after… well, you know,’ he smirks. He walks to the front door and turns back at me from the doorway. ‘I’ll be back in a minute, stay gold!’

  I giggle at his attempt at quoting The Outsiders. Maybe I was wrong about him?

  We lay on the floor of Sarah’s lounge room until the first hint of morning arrives – talking about Tyler, places we want to travel, family and everything that pops into our heads. It’s so easy with Valentine; like breathing. We don’t seem to have much in common, though. He isn’t into the same music as me, nor does he read anything I like to read. He hasn’t read The Outsiders, he watched the movie. He isn’t interested in art or fancy places. He watches my lips as I talk and I’m reminded of Little Red Riding Hood, which incidentally, was never one of my favourite bedtime stories. I push the silly thought aside; Valentine seems too sweet to be compared to the big bad wolf. I get that I should be listening to the worldly advice of my intuition, but my heart is being pulled to Valentine and I am really struggling to hold on.

  When that wretched sun comes up, he has to go. He holds my hand as we walk outside and then kisses me politely on the cheek.

  I can’t lose him! This is my heart screaming. My intuition hasn’t said a word for hours.

  As I watch him walk over to his bike and reach for his helmet, I feel a wave of panic rush over me. ‘What if I never see you again?’ I blurt out.

  He throws his head back with a laugh. ‘That’ll never happen.’

  Was that a promise?

  He places his helmet on his seat and strolls back to me. He pulls me into him. I feel him take a deep breath. I relax into his chest and clutch at the front of his t-shirt, tight. I can feel his muscles through the thin cotton of his shirt.

  ‘I have to go,’ he finally whispers.

  I let go.

  When he gets onto his bike and rides away. I’m sure I can see my heart waving at me from the seat behind him, grinning from ear to ear.

  There have been poems and songs written for centuries about loving somebody for a thousand years, or before you’ve even met them; this must be what it’s like. My empty chest is aching.

  I let out a sigh and try to pull myself together. It’s Mother’s Day, and I have a day with the family to get through.

  ∞~∞~∞~∞

  Sarah drives me home, asking a hundred-and-one questions. We giggle and fantasise like a couple of teenage groupies. I take a long hot shower and think about Valentine. His smooth olive skin, his chocolate brown eyes, his lifestyle… a lifestyle I know I don’t fit into. I take my happy pill with a coffee and wait for my older brother Sam to pick me up.

  I must look like a giddy teenager when I climb into his car because he studies me with narrowed eyes. ‘You been up to no good?’ he asks.

  ‘Me? Never!’ I say, trying not to smile.

  ‘Oh? Then why the stupid look, then?

  I stare out of the window. ‘I’ve met somebody.’

  ‘Abigail Bennet, you floozy!’ he laughs. ‘Well, I hope he isn’t a drip like the one that Hannah tried to match you up with,’ he adds, pulling out into the street.

  ‘He’s a singer in a cover-band, and he rides a black Kawasaki with the word Ninja written on its side – definitely not a drip.’

  ‘You know what Mum says about guys in bands who ride on motorbikes,’ Sam says.

  ‘Yes, I know, they’re troublemakers and rule breakers,’ I giggle. Sam always makes me see the funny side of things. He’s twenty-three, and yes, he still lives at home; he’s studying Philosophy and he’s preparing for his “Mission” to East-Timor later this year. A deep thinker and kind-hearted, but he’ll always be my larrikin brother.

  ‘The oldies are gonna have a coronary when they find out you’re bringing home a bad-boy,’ he adds.

  ‘Well, we’ve only just met, so I’ll spare him the torture for as long as I can!’ I sigh.

  Chapter 3

  I hear my sisters screaming with excitement as we pull into the driveway.

  ‘Mum, Abbie is here!’ Izzy shouts as she bounds out of the house and heads for my side of the car. I wonder if she will ever grow up. She’s tall and shapeless. Beautiful though. Long strawberry blonde hair is tied back in a ponytail and her pale skin is make-up free. Nineteen and never been kissed – I shake my head.

  ‘It’s only been two weeks, Izzy!’ I giggle, as I climb out of the car and let her squeeze me.

  ‘Two weeks too long! I hate that you aren’t here anymore,’ she says, her shaky voice betraying her girlish laughter. ‘I know you’re all grown up now and it’s crowded here, but it would’ve been nice for us to all be here to open gifts with Mum when she woke – like the old days,’ she adds, before Jade pushes her way in.

  Jade gives me a quick hug and pulls Izzy close, weaving their arms together. She’s such a pretty girl. Sixteen. I always feel as though I blinked and she suddenly became a woman. Dark brown curls, blue eyes and olive skin. She looks like a younger version of Mum and is definitely wise beyond her years. ‘Are you coming with us to church, Abbie?’

  ‘Yes, I’m staying all day. Where’s Mum?’

  ‘Still getting organised,’ Jade waves her hand toward the house and rolls her eyes.

  Mum is standing at the kitchen sink when we all saunter into the house. She has been cooking and looks beautiful in her long summer dress and cardigan.

  ‘Hi, Mum.’ I head over to give her hug. ‘Happy Mother’s Day!’

  ‘Abbie!’ she exclaims, turning around with open arms. The morning sun catches her dark brown hair and she looks angelic. Appropriate. She is my angel, that’s for sure. The strength and grace of this lady is unbelievable. Days like this always come with memories of my childhood and the unconditional love of this mother of mine.

  ‘I got you this, Mum,’ I say quickly, so we don’t get caught up in emotions. I hand her a small parcel from my handbag and she eyes me cautiously.

  ‘You didn’t spend too much, I hope,’ she says as she tears at the pretty silver paper.

  ‘No, Mum, just a little,’ I assure her. We’ve been brought up to give little gifts. “It’s the thought that counts” is Mum’s life motto.

  ‘A vase!’ she calls out, turning to show the girls. ‘It’s beautiful, thank you, honey,’ she adds.

  ‘It’s crystal, Mum. It should catch the morning sunlight if you have it by the window,’ I explain.

  ‘I love it!’

  ‘So, what’s all the commotion?’ This is my dad, Robert. He’s my step-dad, but nonetheless, still my Dad. I turn and give him a tight hug – he’s just like a bear. Mum met him a couple of years after we mo
ved to Perth. I was around fifteen and of course, I thought I knew everything so we had a clash of personalities at first. But he provided us all with a warm and comfortable home, unconditional love and firm ethics. Just like a real dad.

  ‘Look what Abbie has given me, Robert,’ Mum holds up her vase. I feel a little pang of coyness; it’s just a vase.

  ‘Very nice. How about you all get in the car and I’ll go and cut a couple of roses to put in there for you?’ he steps forward and gives Mum a kiss. They’re such a cute couple. He is her rock and she is his sunshine.

  ‘Okay,’ we all say in unison, and then giggle.

  I ride in Sam’s Valiant with the girls. I love the smell of the old leather and wonder for a moment if I will ever gather up the courage to get my driver’s license. The girls chatter in the backseat about a new family who have joined the church. I hear Izzy mention Patrick. The tall blonde son with the amazing blue eyes and…

  Staring out at the trees going by the window, I have my mind on only one thing and it’s a little unsettling. Maybe I’ll never hear from Valentine again? I push the unwelcomed thought from my mind. I have to see him, he has my heart.

  ‘There he is!’ Jade screams with excitement. I’m jolted from my daydream. ‘Oh, he’s adorable!’ she squeals at Izzy.

  ‘Yes, he is, isn’t he?’ Izzy pines as she gazes through her window at a young man climbing out of his 1974 orange Saab Sonnet. I admire the car. It’s very quaint – if I can use this word to describe a car. I have a weird fondness for old cars. I think this may have something to do with the times spent with my biological father in the backyard, tinkering with car engines. I still think of those times with fondness, although they’re a bit fuzzy now.

  ‘Abbie?’ Sam nudges me.

  ‘Yeah?’ I jump and turn to face him.

  He runs his hand through his sandy-blonde curls. ‘Thinking about him?’ he smirks.

  ‘No, I wasn’t actually, I was admiring the Saab,’ I reply with a mocking indignant tone.

  He rolls his eyes and climbs out of the car. ‘You and your cars!’ I hear him sigh. I giggle.

  ‘So, who is the heart-throb, anyway?’ I say to Izzy. She is staring at this tall, blonde God-like adolescent with the most ridiculous expression on her face. Is this how I look at Valentine? No wonder he grins at me.

  ‘That’s Patrick Stein. I think his family are from Germany?’ Izzy sighs.

  Patrick turns his head to take a quick look at us and his blue eyes fall on Izzy. She grabs hold of my hand for support and smiles back at him. His mouth moves into a smile and his lips part slightly. It looks as though he mouths the word, ‘Hi’ and Izzy groans.

  ‘He’s cute, Izzy,’ I say, giving her my approval, girl to girl.

  She looks dumbstruck.

  ‘Oh, he is more than cute!’ Jade chides, then giggles. ‘Come on, let’s follow him!’

  ‘How old is he?’ I ask Jade, as we all make our way into church, holding arms like a group of school girls.

  ‘He’s twenty,’ Izzy whispers, still sounding breathless.

  ‘How do you know?’ I ask.

  ‘Because last week he offered me a cup of tea…’

  ‘And how does that tell you how old he is?’ I question, eager to know where this conversation is going.

  ‘Because when he handed me the cup of tea, he asked me how old I was.’

  ‘Really? Isn’t that a bit rude, asking a lady how old she is?’

  ‘Not when he follows the question with, I’d like to take you out… if you’re old enough to get into a car with a twenty year old?’

  I raise my eyebrows. Izzy! Being hit-on by this boy offends me slightly. My Izzy. My little sister. Who does he think he is, flirting with this inexperienced girl? She has no idea how cunning men can be.

  I watch Patrick closely.

  He walks into church greeting people with friendly nods and handshakes as he goes. He’s certainly dressed well. A grey suit and white shirt. Shiny black shoes. His hair is swept up a little at the front and cut short around his ears.

  ‘So have you taken him up on his offer, then?’ I whisper to Izzy, still watching Patrick closely.

  ‘No!’ she gasps. ‘I… I don’t think Mum would approve…’

  ‘Why on earth not, Izzy? He goes to our church.’

  ‘Well, he has a car and, you know?’

  ‘No, I don’t know,’ I look at her now. She’s watching Patrick with such intensity.

  ‘Well, Mum has just lost you and I don’t think she would cope with losing another one of us so soon…’

  ‘Izzy, you’re being ridiculous. I’m not lost – I’m still here. And you’d only be going for a coffee with him, not running off into the sunset…’

  ‘But things could go very quickly,’ she whispers, almost as though she is frightened to step into the future.

  ‘Izzy, you’re nineteen and it’s about time you live a little. Nobody is asking you to leap into a fire,’ I say.

  ‘That’s exactly what it is, Abbie, a fire,’ she whispers back.

  I chuckle and shake my head. This girl is so serious at times. She would get along really well with my intuition.

  We sit at the back of the church, so we can get out to the kitchen quickly after the service. It’s our turn to serve morning tea.

  Patrick is sitting with another young man, whom I can’t place. I’ve seen him before. He’s about my age, I think. From memory, he’s tall, about as tall as Sam. I look at his hair, falling a little untidily around his ears and over his forehead. The same sandy brown as Sam’s. I don’t know why I’m looking at him, but he seems familiar and it’s bothering me that I can’t remember his name.

  When the service ends, we file out into the foyer and I follow Mum and the girls out to the kitchen.

  ‘Well, that was a nice sermon, wasn’t it girls?’ Mum says, as she starts to prepare the cakes by placing them onto a long table covered in a white cloth.

  ‘Er, yeah, it was,’ I agree. I glance quickly at the girls and they are both giggling quietly. I guess they didn’t hear a word of the sermon either.

  ‘Put the tea, coffee and sugar near the urn, please girls,’ Mum says sternly. She must know they weren’t listening to Minister Turner. She rolls her eyes and hovers around the table.

  I’m handing out tea and coffee when Patrick and his friend walk over to the urn.

  ‘Tea or coffee?’ I ask, without really looking at either of them. I glance across at Izzy and her eyes are glued to Patrick.

  ‘Earl Grey, please,’ says Patrick’s friend.

  I fill a coffee cup with hot water and place a tea bag into the cup. ‘Sugar?’ I ask, flicking my eyes to his and back down to the sugar bowl.

  ‘No, thanks – I’m sweet enough,’ he chuckles. A man that laughs at his own jokes – charming.

  I roll my eyes, but smile at his comment.

  ‘Milk?’

  ‘Just a dash please,’ he says moving closer to take the cup from the table. ‘I haven’t seen you here in a while, Abbie,’ he says, as though he’s an old friend.

  ‘Um, yeah, well I’ve been to some evening services… plus I don’t live at home anymore,’ I answer, a little nervously.

  ‘Oh, married?’

  ‘Oh no, nothing like that,’ I wave my hand in a dismissive gesture. Then I suddenly realise that I don’t know this person and I shouldn’t be discussing my personal living arrangements with him. I must look a little guarded, because he tilts his head to one side and waits for me to register who he is.

  ‘Zane… um... Zane Williams?’ he prods my memory.

  Wow! I’m such an idiot. The memory of him sitting behind me in biology class comes flooding back. I think there may have even been a stage when I had a bit of a crush on him. But that was more than three years ago; before I lost myself in the mutinies of adolescence and the grim diagnosis of depression. I remember suddenly that he didn’t just sit behind me in biology class, we were pretty good friends – he hung around with Et
han quite a bit and I must have become so consumed in my self-loathing and my new boyfriend, that I had forgotten I actually had friends. Hannah and Sarah never swayed in their friendship and Ethan was always with Hannah, but I know Zane was there somewhere and I’d lost him.

  ‘Sorry, Zane, I didn’t recognise you,’ I admit, trying to salvage his dignity, and mine.

  ‘Yeah, I had to cut my hair and dad makes me wear a suit to church – we spent a couple of years in the States, and now dad expects me to dress like an adult,’ he explains, tugging on his sky-blue suit jacket.

  ‘Well, you look really good,’ I offer. Did I just blurt out to a guy that he looks good? I think I really need to stay quiet.

  I smile and turn away slightly, so Zane will keep moving and I can keep serving. I don’t want to encourage my stupidity any further. This poor guy really doesn’t need to be subjected to my unintentional flirting.

  I finish up serving morning tea with Mum and the girls and spend the rest of the day with my family. It’s a glorious sunny day, so we take the opportunity to sit out on the lawn for a while after we have devoured Mum’s Sunday roast.

  ‘So, Izzy?’ I say bringing her back from her reverie. ‘Did you have a chance to speak with Patrick?’ I smile.

  She blushes. ‘Yes, I did, thank you for asking.’ She has that twinkle in her eyes.

  ‘Who’s Patrick?’ Sam asks. So protective and nosey. I roll my eyes and Jade giggles.

  ‘He’s just a boy at church,’ Izzy sighs.

  ‘Oh yeah, I know that Patrick, he was sitting with Zane today in church,’ Sam points out.

  ‘Yes, that’s Patrick. He asked me on a date,’ Izzy says, biting her bottom lip nervously.

  ‘Really? Well, what did you say?’ Sam asks. We all sit up a little straighter from our lazy positions on the grass, interested in Izzy’s response.

  ‘I said I would think about it, and give him an answer next week.’

  ‘Why didn’t you just say yes!’ Jade chides.

  ‘Because she wanted to check with her brother first – isn’t that right, Izzy?’ Sam inflates his chest and ruffles Jade’s hair.