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‘Then you can pull my leg while you keep telling yourself such nonsense.’ When Jess refused a response, Shanti tipped her head, eyeing her kindly. ‘Come on, Jess, he’s never stopped loving you, and you’ve never stopped loving him.’ She sighed and smiled a little sadly. ‘If you can’t admit it to yourself, at least admit it to me.’
‘I honestly don’t know how I feel about him.’ Jess shrugged. ‘Or how he feels about me.’
‘Well, let me tell you that from where I’m sitting, I can see, and feel, the love you two shared even to this day.’
‘I don’t know about that, Shanti.’
It was Shanti’s turn to shrug. ‘I’ll agree to disagree.’ She hopped off the bench. ‘Anyhoos, I’m going to nip to the loo, I’ll be back in a sec to help with the rest of dinner.’ And off she padded, leaving her sandalwood perfume oil lingering.
Plonking the sautéed carrots, onion and celery back into the pressure cooker, along with the seared oxtail, two bottles of thick sweet passata, and a decent chunk of butter, Jess locked the lid and set it to cook for forty-five minutes. Next, she busied herself setting the table as she thought about how nice it was to be back in Morgan’s company. He’d certainly changed over the years, as had she, and that made things a little awkward at times, as did the lingering sense of the heartbreak she’d caused him all those years ago. She was sure it’d get easier day by day, but for now the shame she felt about having left him so broken plagued her. And while she was being honest with herself, so did the fact that she hadn’t gone to her parents’ resting places since the day they’d been placed into the earth. The very thought of doing so made her catch her breath. But it was something she needed to face. Pausing in the middle of the kitchen, she took a moment to steady herself as she made the decision to visit the cemetery while she was back here.
Able to move her feet again, she headed over to the cutting board and roughly chopped the handful of basil she’d plucked from Morgan’s herb patch – with his blessing, of course. It would go in the ragu right before serving. Just like following a recipe that led to the perfect meal, one step at a time, bit by bit, she needed to take steps in the right direction, so she could get her life back on track. Starting from now, she needed to stop making excuses. Instead, she needed to take action, and she prided herself on the fact that once she’d made her mind up about something, she would do everything she could to follow through. No matter how tough it would be. Tomorrow was a chance for a fresh start, turning over a new leaf. Tomorrow she was going to face her fears. But for now, she was going to draw courage and comfort from her sister and best friend. She was going to encourage joy into her heart by living in the present and not in the past.
* * *
In the early hours of the morning, Jess found herself lying in the darkness, with the new day yet to hint at its arrival beneath the hem of the blackout curtains. She’d enjoyed her time with Shanti and Annie – they’d eaten dinner and dessert to bursting point and sensibly drank just one bottle of vino between them – but once they’d bid their goodnights around eleven, and she’d been left to her circling thoughts once again, sleep had basically eluded her. Tomorrow had arrived at today, and she’d made a promise to herself to turn the page, start anew, take steps in the right direction.
As weary as she was, as soon as she caught a glimpse of sunrise peeking into the room, she allowed it to lure her from the comfort of the doona cocooned around her. Anything to get away from her relentless contemplations. An hour later she was nursing a cup of Earl Grey tea on the day bed on the little back verandah of the cottage. The encouraging glimpse of blue sky at first light had now all but vanished, and the listless clouds had speedily turned dark and moody. But before she gave in to the broody weather and tucked herself inside the cottage all day long, it was time for her to get things on a roll.
Somehow, she managed to coax herself to her feet, into the shower, into some clothes and into her mum’s Volkswagen. Before she knew it, she was easing off the accelerator, not because she needed to slow her speed, but because she needed to slow her racing heart. Having driven on autopilot, she was surprised to be pulling up out the front of the cemetery in what felt like the blink of an eye. Before she could change her mind, she slipped out of the driver’s seat, shut the door, locked it, and turned to face her fears. As she caught sight of the headstones, her legs refused to go another step. Slowing her breath, she looked to the lush, green grass, manicured to within an inch of its life, sweeping out and over the landscape like a comfortable blanket.
I can do this.
I have to do this.
If not for me, then for Chiara, so I can be strong, resilient, healed.
Thinking it might make her a better mum if she could lighten her heavy heart was all the coaxing she needed. With one foot in front of the other, she wandered past the weeping willows. She dared not stop until she reached her destination. All the way she couldn’t hear the sweet song of birds, or the mower off in the distance – instead all she could hear was the pounding of blood in her ears. Reaching the towering old gum tree that the mourning guests had long ago congregated beneath, everything came back into sharp clarity for her, including the scent of jasmine and the sounds of life. Standing between the final resting places of her mother and father, she reached out and ran her fingertips over the cold marble of the two headstones. Bright sunflowers were in the vases, blooms she was sure her brother and Annie had left on their fortnightly visit. And to think this was only her second time here. Tears stung as she felt pulled back to the horrible day that had changed her life forever. But as strong as the temptation was to tumble into the emotions of it all, she wouldn’t allow the skeletons of her past to get a firm-fingered grip on her. She would remain firmly footed here. In the now. A different person. A hardened woman. A determined mother. A loving daughter.
Brushing her tears away, she stepped closer. ‘I love you two, so much, and miss you more than ever.’ Her words were whispered as she sank down and onto the grass, content to just sit here, for a little while, and maybe fill them both in on all they had missed while she was there.
After a few moments, with a heavy-hearted sigh, she said, ‘How about I start at the beginning.’
She took a deep breath and began to speak. She told her parents about her struggles with motherhood, her disastrous marriage to Salvatore, and how broken she was when she found out he’d been sleeping around. She spoke of her fears of being a failure, her worries about not being able to provide for Chiara, and the test she’d sent in to finally find out who the father of her little girl was. She recounted the sleepless nights, the endless crying, the feeling of isolation and loneliness that sometimes overwhelmed her. She talked about her job, her nonno, and the beauty of Italy. She spoke about all the things she’d learnt since their passing, all the things she wished she’d told them before they were gone. And as she spoke and cried and laughed through her tears, the weight on her chest began to lift, and she felt a sense of peace settling in. Then as the shadows of the day lengthened, and began reaching for her outstretched legs, she realised she’d been carrying this burden alone for far too long, that she’d been trying to be strong for everyone else, without allowing herself to be vulnerable. But here, with her parents, she could be honest, she could be herself, she could be loved. And that, in itself, was one of the biggest steps, one of the biggest realisations, she’d ever had.
CHAPTER
7
Morgan’s day had started at a sparrow’s fart, before the sun had peeked over the mountains. Dreams of Jess having her way with him had replayed all night long. It exasperated him that even in sleep, she tempted him. Pent-up and frustrated after a lengthy sex drought, he’d hit his home gym and taken some frustration out on his punching bag. At noon he’d found himself helping to birth the newest addition to his herd of cattle, before allowing its moo-ma to bond with her new baby. It was now close to sundown, and he hadn’t stopped for a breather all day long. Hadn’t trusted himself to, for fear of collapsing into the couch and accidentally falling asleep. Now, feeling overloaded, and overworked, he laughed cynically at the fact that he was officially on annual leave as he eyed his glowing computer screen. So much for being able to kick back, catch up on sleep and rest his weary soul. Teetering on the edge of burnout wasn’t on his agenda. He had to find a way to slow down, rest up and enjoy his rare days off. Maybe some time with Jess would be just what the doctor ordered.
Or would it?
Closing his laptop, he tried to rub the weariness from his eyes. He wasn’t cut out for accounting, but it had to be done. He wasn’t about to pay someone else to do it for him. Add in trying to wrestle images of Jess from his mind as he wrestled with spreadsheets and numbers, and he was fighting a losing battle. He’d gone out on a limb, and pushed himself out of his comfort zone, by having her stay here, and he just hoped and prayed he’d made the right decision.
Groaning, he gave in to his exhaustion. The office chair creaked beneath his weight as he rested back, laced his hands behind his head and sighed. No matter how hard he tried to ignore the attraction, Jess’s heart-shaped face and bright green eyes got him every single time. She was a heady combination of drop-dead gorgeous and fiercely independent, yet also extremely fragile. A perfect package of woman that he innately wanted to love and protect. But he didn’t have the right to, nor did he want to risk having his heart shattered again.
Closing his eyes, he tried to quell the burning ache for her. The day he’d gotten down on one knee and asked her to marry him, and she’d shriekedyes yes yes, he would’ve never believed he’d be here, very single, very broken, and very alone. And now the one true love of his life, the woman of his dreams, was back here, at his property, within his reach yet again, yet so very far away in the deepest sense. If only she’d open up. If onlyhecould open up. Would things be different?Couldthey be different? Words had the capacity to really hurt, but silence – now that could send a man crazy. And it was doing exactly that. Every time he was around her, he sensed she was keeping something from him. And he wished she could tell him what it was, so she could allow him to help her through it. But then, who was he to talk when he was keeping something so shocking from her?
Huffing, he shook his head at his turbulent thoughts. He couldn’t sit around, pining over what could have been or fantasising about what could be. He had errands to run in town before closing time. And as the saying went, time waited for no man. He needed to get a shift on. Straightening, he made his way out of the office, down the hallway, and outside. Striding towards his Troopy, he caught a glimpse of Jess through the cottage window. She was sitting at the dining table, hunched over a mug of coffee, staring out into the distance. He paused for a moment, watching her, feeling the familiar tug of desire in his chest. But then he squared his shoulders and reminded himself that his heart couldn’t take a second beating.
He climbed into the driver’s seat, turned the key, revved the engine to life, and headed down the driveway. Every place he passed on his way to the hardware store reminded him of her, ofthem. So many memories. So many happy times. Sometimes it was just the two of them, other times it was with their group of friends. The old movie theatre, where they’d sat in the back row, sharing popcorn, kisses and hand-holding. The Silverton Shores showgrounds, where they’d gone to watch visiting bands and devotedly attended the annual fair – she’d always end the night with a fluffy prize from the sideshow alley thanks to his shooting skills. Their high school where they’d had their graduation night – how proud he’d been to escort her. St Augustine’s, where they were meant to become husband and wife. The cemetery, where they buried Enzo and Julie. His grip on the steering wheel tightened along with his heartstrings. She’d been his girlfriend, his best friend, his partner in crime, his confidante, his fiancée – and then he’d become her nothing. She had disappeared in a puff of smoke. Untouchable. Unreachable. As if she’d never existed.
Until now.
He should be over it, over her. But he wasn’t. And if he were being absolutely honest with himself, he never would be. He loved her, goddamnit, and always would. It was a shame the same couldn’t be said for her. She’d gotten over him. She’d moved on with her life. He had to build a bridge and get over it, over her. And he needed to spend more time with her to do that, while he had the chance to. Avoiding her when he could clearly wasn’t working, so maybe he needed to try a different tactic. Decision made. He was going to ask her over for dinner, and hopefully she would accept.
An hour later, cursing beneath his breath, he stared at the rolling digits of the fuel bowser, willing it to speed up. Jess had texted him back with ayes, that sounds lovely, thank you. Even though it wasn’t anywhere near being a date, he still wanted to make a lasting impression, and let her see what she’d missed out on. He didn’t have the time to make a roast, but the next best thing was his juicy lamb chops. And just on sundown, the meaty scent of his local butcher’s finest wafted from the oven as he turned the tray of rosemary potatoes and slices of butternut pumpkin on the shelf above.
