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Again, massive thanks and all my very best wishes,
Polly xx
So. Not a proper explanation at all, except that Polly admitted to panicking, and possibly feeling trapped. And now she was running back to her unemployed situation in that squalid little flat. Seth knew she didn’t have support from family and he had a suspicion that her city friends and ex-workmates weren’t exactly caring and helpful types either.
In terms of support, it was possible he was all Polly had. But she’d made her choice and he certainly wasn’t going to chase after her. At least he’d wrangled that promise from her to keep in touch and send him updates.
Damn it, he could do no more.
*
For almost theentire journey back to Melbourne, Summer had slumbered peacefully, while Polly’s thoughts kept returning to Seth. She simply couldn’t get him out of her head.
She kept reliving so many moments. There was the big one, of course, when Seth had first held Summer in his big, capable hands. But there were other smaller moments too—his easy smile as they’d pottered in his kitchen doing boring, routine jobs, like cooking, or packing the dishwasher. There was the sparkle in his lovely, hazel eyes as he’d told her funny stories. The warmth of his greeting and the answering uplift of her spirits as he came home to her at the end of each working day.
But perhaps lingering the longest was that final picture of Seth heading back into his workshop, stiff shouldered and without a backward glance. The big farm truck awaiting his attention, its engine hanging overhead.
Polly had been painfully conscious of everything Seth had done for her. This same guy, who spent his days working with heavy machinery, had been so incredibly and beautifully gentle in so many ways.
Her gratitude to him had been suddenly so painful and piercing, Polly had almost, on the point of departure, called out to him—had almost told him she’d changed her mind. She couldn’t possibly leave.
But in that moment, she’d also known that the deep emotion she was experiencing belonged way outside the boundaries of friendship. And that was her problem, wasn’t it?
It had always been Polly’s problem.
In high school she had never allowed herself to admit to her huge crush on Seth. She’d been terrified it would spell the end of their friendship. After all, high-school romances were notoriously short lived. And how could a girl continue to be best mates with her ex after they’d broken up?
After school, when she’d moved away to Melbourne with her dad, Polly had decided that she needed to grow up and she’d made the difficult but quite deliberate decision to let contact with Seth tail away. It had seemed sensible, given that their lives were moving in totally different directions.
You were always going to tread your own path.
Seth had sounded and looked way too sad as he’d said this today, but he hadn’t hinted at any deeper emotion. Over the past weeks, he’d had made it very clear that their friendship was his sole motivation for helping her.
It was best, Polly assured herself yet again, to get out of town before she said or did something foolish. To let Seth know how she truly felt would only mess things up completely. But as the bus had sped along the highway, racing further and further away from Wirralong, she’d stared glumly through the window with tears streaming down her cheeks.
*
After reading Polly’snote, Seth folded it and shoved it in his pocket. Then he opened the freezer and checked out the latest casserole offering. It seemed to be mostly lamb and carrots and was way too big a quantity for one. And somehow he just wasn’t in the mood.
After a check of the pantry, he opted for quick and easy baked beans on toast. If there was any bacon left in the fridge, he could dice that and throw it in. That’d do just fine.
He was finishing this meal, which he ate in front of an entirely forgettable TV show, when his phone rang. He grabbed it quickly on the chance it might be Polly letting him know she was safely home.
Not Polly. A mate’s name showed on the screen. Nick Lange. Seth tried to ignore his sense of deflation as he swiped to accept the call. ‘Hey, Nick, how’s it going?’
‘That’s what I was calling to ask you, Seth. Ruth tells me congratulations are in order.’
Damn. Not another one. Seth had lost count of the number of locals who’d assumed he was Summer’s father. ‘I can only guess you’re referring to Polly Martin’s baby?’ he said.
‘Well, yeah, mate. You’re a dark horse.’
‘I haven’t been hiding anything, Nick.’ Seth was tired of having to explain. ‘The kid’s not mine.’
‘Oh? Wow, Ruth was sure—’
‘Yeah, I know. The word’s been getting around, but it’s not true. Polly was out here in Wirralong, just for a visit, a weekend, and she went into early labour.’
‘Jeez, mate. So, you stepped up for her? That’s crazy. Good for you.’
