‘Thanks.’ Meredith opened the egg carton she’d sat on the bench earlier to allow the eggs inside to reach room temperature. ‘I’ll need all of these ones and we still have banana bread to make.’
Fliss quietly rapped on Lewis’s study door. Since they’d arrived, Lewis had been a silent and sombre presence, spending hours on his computer writing Jean’s eulogy and selecting photos for the funeral programme. When his voice sounded, Fliss opened the door and entered the sun-drenched room that overlooked an immaculate garden. Jean had loved birds and would sit for hours in the bay window of the living room listening to their songs.
Lewis stopped typing on the computer to turn towards Fliss. Despite the grief thinning his cheeks, his eyes warmed. Tall, with his dark hair liberally sprinkled with grey, Fliss had never seen him anything other than clean-shaven.
‘How’s the programme coming along?’ She slid into the leather chair close to his desk. Many of her university issues had been resolved while sitting in this chair and chatting to her wise mentor.
‘It’s taking shape.’ Lewis removed his glasses to rub at his eyes. ‘I just have to finalise the last piece of music. How’s everything going in the kitchen?’
‘Let’s just say Meredith’s a saint for being so patient. This time I only burned the chocolate.’
A brief smile moved his lips. ‘I thought it was a little quiet without the smoke alarm going off.’
Fliss groaned. ‘Sorry again about yesterday. Who knew if you opened the dishwasher too early the steam set off the alarm?’
Lewis’s grey gaze flickered over her face. ‘I know we’re all … missing Jean … but is there anything else going on with you?’
Fliss kept her expression unchanging. She should have known Lewis wouldn’t miss how distracted she was. She’d never been able to hide anything from him. But she couldn’t have him know that as well as grieving for Jean she was still coming to terms with her DNA bombshell. This trip to see Lewis was about him, not her.
‘Nothing that some more time at Bundara won’t fix.’
‘Living there has been the best thing for you.’
‘It has. You’ll have to come and visit. It’s so quiet and peaceful.’
‘I’m sure it is. I will come and stay … sometime.’ Sadness dulled his words and he paused to settle his glasses back on his nose. ‘So tell me about this Hewitt who’s been helping you in the garden?’
‘There’s not much to say. He’s an old rodeo friend of Denham’s who needs some time out after losing his twin brother and injuring himself in a motorbike accident.’
‘Does he like vectors more than people?’
‘No, he doesn’t. Not that this is where I’m heading with Hewitt, but you’re never going to let me forget my lapse in judgement when I dated that physics PhD guy, are you?’
Lewis’s lips twitched. ‘No, or the guy who preferred vodka shots to vectors.’
‘Of course there was also the surgeon whose ego was triple the size of his attention span.’
Lewis chuckled. It was a relief to hear him laugh. ‘No, let’s not forget him. He was charming, though. I’ll give him that much.’
‘You can say that again, especially if you’re a curvy blonde intern.’
‘Life was never dull when you brought someone around to meet … us.’
Fliss’s heart clenched as loss erased the amusement relaxing Lewis’s face.
‘Lucky for you there won’t be anyone for quite a while. I need to work out where I’m heading before I can even think about looking for my next dating disaster.’
She hoped it was her imagination that Lewis’s gaze rested on her a moment longer than usual. ‘I have every faith that not only will you work out where you’re heading, your next dating disaster won’t be a disaster at all. The right man is out there. Jean always said it would take a fearless man to be worthy of you.’
‘I’m not sure such a man exists, but that’s okay. I’m going to be the best spinster aunt ever when Cressy and Denham have their little cowgirls and cowboys.’ She stood to rest her hand on Lewis’s shoulder. ‘Would you like a cuppa or some of those Belgian chocolates before I head to the shops?’
He covered her hand with his. Despite all his academic achievements and distinguished medical career, his callused palm spoke of a lifetime love of gardening.
‘No, thank you.’ He squeezed her fingers before turning back to the computer. ‘I’ll keep working on Jean’s programme.’
Fliss shifted the grocery bag from one hand to the other. Between the city humidity and the afternoon sun, she was working up a sweat walking home. On her right cars passed by in a constant stream of peak-hour noise. Lewis’s suburb was in a quieter neighbourhood but she’d still seen more traffic in one hour than she’d see in a month in Woodlea.
She moved to the side of the footpath as a lean woman in black lycra power-walked towards her, leading a fluffy white dog. A wave of longing washed over her. She missed her morning routine of sitting on the veranda step with Molly. Now that Ella had discovered the border collie’s name and address, it wouldn’t be long before her owners were tracked down. A part of her already mourned that the garden shed would soon only be home to the temperamental lawnmower. The white dog trotted past, giving her a cursory, disinterested glance. Its owner didn’t acknowledge her or thank her for moving aside to let them pass.
She sighed. She was in the city now, not in the close-knit outback community of her childhood. She returned to the middle of the footpath only to stop to allow a sleek black car to turn into a driveway. The suited driver didn’t appear to know she was there. She continued walking.
Clipped garden hedges, manicured lawns and stately old homes marked the suburb as an affluent one. But despite the fresh greenery and sense of space, the breeze retained the scent of fumes. This was the bright city life that had lured her from the bush. As hard as she now looked, she couldn’t see its appeal. Once this was the only world she’d wanted to inhabit and now she found it somehow lacking.
When she returned to Lewis’s house she poured a glass of iced water and took her laptop into the garden. Leaves whispered overhead as she sat at the table beneath an old liquid amber tree. Since she’d left Bundara she’d texted Hewitt and made a quick phone call. But it hadn’t been enough. The need to see him had almost become a physical ache.
Before she lost her nerve, she opened her laptop and activated the call button. The electronic gurgling sound gave way to Hewitt’s voice before his face filled the screen. ‘Hi, Fliss.’
‘Hi.’ She gripped the edge of the table to stop her words from sounding breathless. ‘I was going to text to ask about the puppies but had my laptop open …’
Hewitt’s grin flashed. ‘Hold on.’ He stood and the screen moved as he carried his laptop outside and sat it on the lawn. Tiny black-and-white bodies waddled in front of the camera before a pink tongue licked the lens.
‘They are so cute. I want to come home right now and hug them.’
The screen moved again as Hewitt returned inside. ‘They’re already up to mischief. I’m down one leather glove.’ He paused and when he spoke Fliss thought his voice had deepened. ‘When do you think you’ll be home?’
‘The funeral’s tomorrow, so maybe the day after. It just depends how Lewis is going.’
‘Stay as long as you need. Everything’s under control here.’
‘Thanks. I’ll let you know what’s happening. How’s Lizzie and Quinn?’
‘Going well. Ava said there’s only been one recent sandpit flooding incident.’
Fliss nodded and hoped the screen didn’t reveal how much her attention fixated on his mouth. His smile, even onscreen, had the power to stir her senses. ‘Everything sounds … good.’ She couldn’t strip the wistfulness from her voice.
‘It is, but you’re not here. Molly still waits for you on the veranda step every morning.’
‘Does she? Please tell me there’s been no word about her owners. I know she already has a h
ome but is it wrong of me to hope she can stay as long as possible?’
‘No, there’s been no word, and it isn’t wrong to want time with her.’ She thought he was about to say something more but then he stopped to run a hand over his jaw. ‘I’d better go, it’s starting to rain and the puppies will need to go into the shed. I hope all goes well tomorrow.’
‘Me too. See you soon.’
When the screen went black she couldn’t suppress a sudden sense of emptiness. She had never experienced such homesickness, even when away at boarding school. Seeing Hewitt and hearing his voice shouldn’t affect her so much. She dragged her fingers through her hair. Never before had she felt such an intense pull towards someone or felt such a need to be around them. But falling for Hewitt, even just a little, was an even worse idea than keeping her city car. He’d soon be gone.
She stared at the lifeless laptop. Being back in the city hadn’t made her wish she still lived within its sophisticated embrace. All it had done was reinforce that she’d changed and now wanted different things. It wasn’t only her origins she now questioned, but who she was.
When Hewitt entered the Woodlea town limits, the heavy clouds that had hovered over him since he’d left Bundara disappeared. Sunlight caught in the white puffs of blossoms and in the cheery yellow of daffodils growing in neat front gardens.
Over in the city, Fliss would be saying farewell to Jean. He hoped the funeral didn’t prove too tough. There’d been a renewed vulnerability in Fliss’s tone and the dark shadows beneath her eyes had returned.
When she’d called yesterday, he’d been glad the puppies had provided a distraction. Thanks to Garnet arriving today, and the ride they had to make that evening, his emotions were already volatile. Seeing Fliss again, and experiencing the warmth and beauty of her smile, only made him feel more on edge. No matter how busy he’d kept himself, he continued to miss her with a depth he’d never imagined possible.
He rolled his good shoulder before checking his watch. He still had an hour before Ava, his mother and the twins met him at the local park. Ava had offered to bring Garnet out to Bundara but by Hewitt meeting her in town it would shorten her already long trip. It was only his father who’d refused to come. Hewitt would make sure he sent home a large bag of the liquorice he liked.
He pulled into a space a few spots down from the only hair salon in town. His mother had put up with him looking rough for long enough. He also needed to set a good example for Quinn. The five-year-old had started resisting having his hair trimmed by Ava as he wanted to look like Hewitt.
He entered the hair salon and a slim blonde looked up from where she was blow-drying a lady’s long silver hair.
‘What can I do for you?’ A faint accent overlaid the hairdresser’s cheerful words.
Behind him, a man chuckled. ‘From the looks of him, he needs the same as me.’
Hewitt turned to see an older man whose salt-and pepper hair hung past his collar. He nodded at the man before facing the hairdresser. ‘If you have time, I do need a trim.’
‘No problem. I can squeeze you in after Arnold. I’d say grab a coffee from next door but I have a feeling once you leave you mightn’t come back.’
‘I’ll wait.’
He sat in a spare seat and shook Arnold’s hand. ‘I’m Hewitt.’
‘Nice to meet you. Taylor said the same thing to me and she was right. If I didn’t plant my butt in this chair, I wouldn’t have been back.’
‘That makes two of us.’
‘You’re not from around here?’
‘No, further out west.’
To their right Taylor held up a mirror so her client could see the back of her styled hair.
Arnold frowned. ‘I’ve got a family reunion on. I hope Taylor doesn’t take much off. My old dog disowns me whenever I come back from town shorn.’
Taylor signalled to Arnold that it was his turn in the chair. With a deep sigh the man took his time walking across the room. Taylor riffled through a pile of magazines and handed Hewitt an edition with a header on the front.
‘Just in case you don’t want to know about the latest hair extensions or contouring techniques. Fliss back?’
‘Not yet.’
The hairdresser answered his unspoken question. ‘Fliss and I grew up together. My mum, Sue, was the local librarian who’d keep Cressy in horse-book heaven and make sure Fliss found a book to answer every one of her thousand questions.’
He could see a little Cressy with her nose in a horse book and imagine how a young Fliss would have had an infinite thirst for information. She and Lizzie had much in common.
Taylor reached for a broom. ‘Please tell Fliss I’m sorry to hear about Lewis’s wife and that we must catch up soon.’
‘Will do.’
Hewitt passed the time flipping through the farm machinery magazine and listening to Arnold’s stories about the elusive white kangaroo that lived near his bush block two hours from town. All too soon, a neat short-back-and-sides Arnold left the chair and it was Hewitt who sat cloaked in the black cape.
‘Good luck,’ Arnold said as he rubbed his bare neck. ‘That breeze out there’s going to feel a bit nippy.’
Arnold’s prediction proved true. As Hewitt left the hair salon, cool air rushed over the exposed skin of his nape. He turned up his shirt collar and gave Taylor a final wave through the shop window.
Ava’s most recent text confirmed she’d passed the WELCOME TO WOODLEA sign, so he had time for a last errand. He crossed the road to the gift shop.
With two large wrapped boxes on his passenger seat, he drove through the wide gates of the Woodlea park. A row of thick poplars sheltered the picnic tables and barbeque areas. The children’s play area backed onto a large oval that was surrounded by a white picket fence. Over the years the historic sportsground would have been home to many cricket and rugby matches, market days and sheep dog trials.
Hewitt parked near a climbing spinner draped in a heavy, thick web. The rattle of a horse float had him look to his right. Tension clamped his shoulders but then receded. Today wasn’t about regrets and guilt, but about moving forwards and accepting the new direction their lives had taken.
Quinn was the first out of Ava’s steel-blue four-wheel drive. Emotion flooded Hewitt as Quinn flew into his arms and strangled his neck in a fierce hug. Lizzie quickly followed and made do with hugging his leg. When he lowered Quinn to the ground he drew Lizzie close. She rested her head in the curve of his neck like she’d done since she was a baby. She smelt of sunshine and the sweet scent of the pink soap she liked.
Quinn raced away to clamber to the top of the spinner. Lizzie joined him, climbing at a slow and cautious pace.
Ava came over to give Hewitt a hug. ‘That last half-hour took forever. Quinn isn’t wired to sit still.’
Hewitt grinned, relieved that the jut of Ava’s cheekbones wasn’t quite so pronounced. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll wear him out.’
Ava’s blue eyes sparkled with a light he hadn’t seen in a long time. ‘Does it sound bad if I said I was hoping you’d say that?’
Hewitt turned to the elegant, grey-haired woman who he was sure used to reach his chin and who he could now tuck under his arm. ‘Hi, Mum.’
‘Hi, dear.’
She clung to him and he let the hug last as long as she needed it to. When she pulled away a smile erased years from her face. ‘It’s about time you listened to your old mother and got rid of all that hair.’
Hewitt kept his arm around her thin shoulders. ‘I always listen to you.’
‘Ava, do you want to help me remind Hewitt of all the times he hasn’t listened to me or anyone else?’
Ava laughed from where she was unlatching the front door of the horse float. ‘If I had all day I would, but there’s someone else desperate to see Hewitt.’
Hewitt dropped a kiss on his mother’s head and went to see Garnet. Her soft whinny greeted him as he entered the front of the horse float.
He stroked her velvet-sof
t muzzle. ‘Hello, Garnet girl. I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to get my act together.’
She blew against his cheek as he rubbed her favourite spot high on her neck.
‘We’ve got a special ride to make tonight.’
Lizzie’s voice sounded behind him. ‘Uncle Hewy, have you got more photos of the puppies? I want to see how big Delilah is now.’
‘I do.’ Hewitt ran his hand over Garnet’s blood-red-bay neck before leaving the float.
He handed Lizzie his phone. ‘If everyone’s happy, I’ll take Garnet around to the vet stables and be back soon.’
‘Take as long as you want.’ Ava handed him her car keys. ‘I don’t even think the sight of a digger driving past would get Quinn off the play equipment.’
When Hewitt returned, Quinn was exactly where he’d left him, clinging to the webbing near the top of the spinner.
Hewitt lifted his arm to catch Quinn’s attention. ‘Lunch time.’
Quinn scrambled straight down.
Ava sighed. ‘You have no idea how glad I’ll be when you’re home. I would’ve had to call him at least three times.’
‘Be careful what you wish for. Don’t forget when Quinn and I are in the shed you have to call me at least three times.’
Ava’s lips swept into a smile. ‘Make that five times.’
Hewitt opened the car door for Lizzie and Quinn to climb into their seats. Noticing Ava rubbing at her lower back, he offered to drive.
Once at the Windmill Café, Lizzie and Quinn deliberated over what to eat before ordering their usual vanilla milkshakes and cheese sandwiches. The next stop was the lolly shop. Hewitt snapped a picture of the twins’ faces when they realised how many lolly-filled jars there were on the shelves. His mother stayed outside taking photos of the yarn-bombed front fence. All too soon it was time for Ava to head home in order to avoid the kangaroos that would graze on the roadside verges at dusk.
They returned to the park for a last play and to drop Hewitt off at his ute. After Hewitt had pushed both Quinn and Lizzie on the swings, he gave them a final hug. When they were settled in Ava’s four-wheel drive, he passed them their presents.
The Red Dirt Road Page 11
