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Still looking at her incredulously, Shea laughed and cried at the same time. ‘Are you sure about this?’
Samantha nodded affirmingly. ‘I’m one hundred percent certain.’
Shea shook her head. ‘I can’t, Sammie, it’s yours to wear.’
Her emotions bubbling to the surface, Samantha let her tears fall. ‘There’s no way I’m ever getting married again, so what better person than you, and your seamstress of course, to be the ones to bring it back to life.’
A glimmer of hope filled Shea’s eyes. ‘Do you really think we can pull this off?’
‘Of course we can, now let’s get cracking because time is ticking.’ She took Shea’s hand and led her from the bedroom, towards the loft. ‘Now you don’t have to worry about something old and something borrowed, because it’s a double whammy with Mum’s dress.’
Climbing the ladder into the roof of the house, they got to work, sorting through Samantha’s boxes. An hour later, they’d found what they were looking for, as well as a couple of photo albums from their childhood years. Samantha couldn’t believe the way the special packaging had preserved her mum’s vintage lace wedding gown. It was stunningly beautiful.
Climbing back into the homestead, then pushing the ladder up and out of sight, Samantha brushed her hands off on her shorts. ‘Shall we take a breather with a nice cup of tea and something sweet, before taking it to Magda this afternoon for the alterations?’
‘Sounds like a perfect plan.’
‘Great, you go and kick your feet up and give Magda a call so you can fill her in on our plan, and let me take care of you for a change.’ Samantha held her hand up to stop Shea’s rebuttal. ‘You’re always looking after everyone else, so go, be off with you. I’ll meet you out on the verandah once I’ve rustled up our morning smoko.’
Stepping outside with two cups of Earl Grey and a packet of ginger nut biscuits tucked beneath her arm, Samantha placed everything down on the coffee table, then sunk into the chair alongside her friend. Leaning over, Shea grabbed a thick leather-bound photo album from the hardwood floor and plunked it into her lap.
Opening the packet of biscuits, Samantha passed a couple to Shea. ‘Well, are you going to open it, or just sit there staring at it?’ Dunking a ginger nut into her tea, she quickly brought the soggy treat to her mouth before it broke off in her cup, savouring the flavour.
‘I’m warning you now, with how emotional I’m feeling today, there might be a few more tears.’ Shea flicked the cover open, and the first page was of them as fifteen-year-olds.
‘Wow, look at how young we are.’ Samantha ran her fingertips over the glossy protective film.
‘Weren’t we ever,’ Shea replied softly.
‘There’s part of me that would give anything to be that girl again, so that I could do things differently, but then there’s another part of me, that would never want to go back there because I don’t think I’d survive all the heartbreak a second time round.’
‘You’ve been through way too much, my friend.’ Shea offered her a sad smile. ‘Let’s hope from here on in, your life is filled to the brim with good things and happy memories, hey.’
Samantha swallowed down her impulse to tell Shea what she’d gone and done, agreeing to Benjamin’s under-par offer, but she kept her news to herself. ‘Trust me when I say I’m going to do my best to make that so.’
‘I’m so very glad to hear it, Sammie.’
As Shea continued to flip page after page – some photos enticing laughter while other brought out tears – poignant nostalgia wrapped around Samantha’s heart, the comforting sensation of sharing all of this with her dearest friend somehow making her feel stronger, happier and safer. Towards the back of the album, they were now seventeen years old, both with womanly bodies and boyfriends on their arms. Jack and Shea were a match made in heaven from the get-go. As for Samantha and Angus, she knew without a shadow of doubt from the hollowness in her eyes and the lacklustre smile on her face that they most certainly were not. For a few fleeting moments, she imagined him in heaven, alongside her mum and dad, the image bringing her peace. Nevertheless, the potency of how much she’d lost in the accident, and how much grief she’d had to endure, hit her hard. She tried to push it away, like she had countless times, but a defiant sob rose, bringing more from wherever it had surfaced from. Shea wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close. They clung to each other, both crying now. No words were needed, their mutual understanding of the deep cavern of losing loved ones enough to bring each other comfort. Then, both of them gathering themselves enough to continue their trek through the lens-captured past, Shea got back to turning the pages of the album. The very last page was a group photo, and it was in this one Samantha noted how closely Connor was standing to her, and how he was looking at her.
So did Shea, it seemed by the nodding of her head and the knowing look in her eyes as she came to meet Samantha’s gaze. ‘Tell me you can’t see it here?’
‘See what?’ Ignorance could be bliss, or so she liked to tell herself.
Shea rolled her eyes. ‘You know what.’
‘Yes, I see it.’ Nodding, she took a long deep breath, and then another. ‘But that was eleven years ago, things are different between us now.’
Shea snorted. ‘Oh, come on, Sammie, it’s pretty obvious nothing’s changed.’ She leant forward on her elbows, her eyes sparkling with cheekiness. ‘Surely you can tell that he’s still extremely sweet on you?’
‘He is not,’ Samantha protested, while feeling a blush rising from the heat now swirling through her. ‘We’re just friends.’
‘You really believe that?’ Shea exclaimed, her eyebrows almost meeting with her hairline.
‘Yes.’ Why did she keep lying to Shea, and herself? Guardedness, fear, self-doubt, or all three?
Shea took a moment to respond. ‘Connor Gunn has always had an eye for you, it’s just that he never did anything about his feelings, out of respect for his brother.’
‘Okay.’ It was all she could say. Feeling the guilt from never having told Shea what she and Connor had done that night before Angus’s funeral, Samantha chose ignorance, again, as she turned her gaze down the long dusty drive where a heat haze hovered. ‘Don’t you reckon it’s hotter today?’
