by Tara Marlow
Lowell held his hand out to help her off the floor. Grace hesitated, but when he broke out into a huge goofy grin, she took his hand and let him wrap his arms around her.
“You’re free, Jelly,” he said. She didn’t feel very free, though. The weight of this revelation felt like an elephant on her chest.
Epilogue
FIFTEEN MONTHS LATER
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Grace stood at the arrivals gate at Tullamarine Airport in Melbourne, wearing a pale pink sundress and sandals, showing off her freshly painted bubble-gum pink toenails. Lowell’s flight was late. She paced back and forth, scanning the arrivals board every few seconds. She only hoped he arrived before his mother, who was due to land half an hour later from Brisbane. She couldn’t wait to share her news with him. She’d thought about telling him over the phone, but decided to wait. She wanted to see the look on his face.
She was still surprised to be standing in an airport. To her, airports represented freedom, something she was still getting used to. She’d never been in an airport until last year. It was too exposed, John told her over the years. No, not John. Michael. She was still getting used to that too, even with the trial over. God, she hated thinking about those months. Michael had fallen deep into his addiction. He was barely coherent during the trial. No, John was gone and whomever Michael was, he wasn’t her father.
The arrival board flashed and Lowell’s flight finally switched to ‘landed’. Phew. She hadn’t seen Lowell in six months, even though she talked with him every day. She leaned heavily on Lowell during the trial, and his mother too. But her rock was her grandmother.
Nanny. Grace smiled, thinking of this wonder woman in her life. Detective Grant kept his promise. He notified her grandmother the night Grace discovered her truth. Early the following morning, Nanny arrived at Lowell’s front door, clutching Grace’s Raggedy Ann doll. Grace flew into her arms, hugging her grandmother and the doll for a very long time, just as her world came crashing down around her.
Since then, Nanny became the centre point of Grace’s recovery. She organised counselling sessions, made arrangements with the school, and accompanied Grace to the police station to finalise their statements. There wasn’t a time that she left Grace’s side. Neither had Lowell, for that matter. Together, they held her steadfast. Grace knew she’d be okay with them at her side.
Waiting for Lowell to come through the arrivals door, she thought about the day Nanny joined one of Lowell’s yoga sessions. She’d joined Annie, Lowell’s favourite client, in a ‘boogie-off’ dance competition once the yoga session was over. The pair came together like long-lost sisters. Her grandmother, easily a foot taller than Annie, her green eyes sparkling, laughed uproariously with the pink-haired firecracker. She’d looped Annie’s purple feather boa around her hips, the feathers whirling as they swung back and forth to the music.
Her grandmother was a spitfire. She was as tall as Grace, and model thin. Her silver hair was cut short into a stylish pixie. Everything about her grandmother was edgy, yet somehow refined. Looking down at her own manicured nails, her cuticles now healed, Grace realised she’d never seen Nanny’s bold red nails chipped, not once. Grace wondered if her mother would have been the same? Probably. With everything Nanny had shared with her, Grace was her mother’s twin, right down to her obsession with writing. She’d discovered some of her mother’s poetry. It was beautiful. Soft, flowing, descriptive. Grace was hoping to publish it someday. For now, she kept it for herself.
She was excited for this coming week. Lowell, his mother Nellie, and her Nanny would be celebrating Christmas and New Year’s Eve together. Nanny had planned the entire week for them all. Grace only wished her mother was … no, she couldn’t think like that. She couldn’t think of what she’d done. Her psychiatrist told her she needed to focus on the present. Be grateful for what she had in her life. And she was. She thought about the relationship between her grandmother and Lowell. It was a mutual lovefest, although he admitted, right after meeting her, ‘God help anyone who crossed her’. Grace had to agree.
At the trial, Nanny had gone for her father’s jugular, keeping Grace firmly behind her. It would take a lot of therapy to get over the guilt of testifying against him, not to mention killing her mother. Her therapist constantly reminded her it was an accident. Maybe it was, but Grace knew the bullet simply missed its intended target.
After it was all over, Grace shed the last traces of her father by legally changing her name. She was Grace Baxter now, using her grandmother’s maiden name, with no plans to change her name ever again.
The more she learned about Michael, the more she realised the truth: Michael was bad news. He had been, as Detective Grant predicted, only protecting himself. She still struggled with the kindness Michael had occasionally shown, but therapy taught her those times were rare and misleading. It was a calculated decision to take Grace, to get back at her grandmother. He truly hated the woman. In a cowardly act of spite and defiance, Grace learned during the trial that they’d squatted in a house around the corner from Nanny’s. If Grace only knew then what she knew now. She still didn’t understand why he was so hateful. Sometimes people snapped. She shook off the thought. She couldn’t think about that either.
Finally, a flow of people emerged from the arrivals hall. She bounced from face to face, eagerly searching for Lowell. A minute later he strode through the gate, his smile broad. He was impeccably dressed as usual, wearing his much-loved jeans. He’d forgone the band t-shirts she’d gotten used to, and instead wore a long-sleeve, white linen shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. It was so good to see him.
“Jelly! Look at you. Looking fabulous!” He held out his arms.
“You too,” she said, stepping into his embrace. They held each other for a moment, happy to be together again.
“Looks like Mum’s flight is on time,” Lowell said, glancing up at the arrivals board. “Let’s grab a coffee while we wait. I’m sure you’re eager for one.”
They talked about the latest happenings at his yoga studio while they waited for their order. She asked him how Annie and the ladies were doing.
“Annie’s on a roll. A few gentlemen have signed up for classes now. Annie’s been hitting on them, so I’m not sure how long they’ll last.” She laughed, happy to know Annie was still living her best life. He asked about her grandmother, even though they would see her in less than an hour.
“Nanny is excited to see you guys. But God, you should see the decorations and the number of presents under the tree. Its obscene. But she’s already shared the pictures with you already, hasn’t she?” Lowell nodded. Of course she had. They were two peas in a pod. They picked up their order and found a table.
“So, I have news. I wanted to wait until I saw you,” she said, excitedly. “I got a call from that publishing house I told you about. The one Miss O’Donnell put me in touch with. They said they were extremely impressed with my H.S.C. English assignment, and would like to expand it into a book.” She paused a beat. “They offered me a book deal.” She blushed. “Apparently, there are upsides to going viral while testifying against your father.”
“Wow Jelly, that’s great! Congrats!” He raised his cup in cheers. She bowed her head in acceptance of the praise.
“But there’s more.” She knew the book was a big deal, but she’d gush about that later. “I’ve been working with a group who help find missing children. Nanny has been involved with them for years. They work with NAPCAN.” Lowell looked confused at the acronym.
“It’s the National Association for Prevention of Child Abuse and Neglect. The Salvation Army work with them. A bunch of places do.”
“Great. And?”
“I’m going to work with some experts to write a series of articles for the Education department. It’ll help kids know how to deal with abuse, what to do, how to cope, that kind of stuff. I can include things I wish I knew, strategies which may have helped me earlier. Plus, I’ll be working with a global group who deal
with child abductions.”
“Whoa.”
“I know, right? Which brings me to my other news. I’m changing my degree. I’m going into social services, with a focus on child therapy.” His smile was infectious.
“That makes total sense. I can see you doing that, Jelly. Maybe you should get a double degree? You’ve got more discipline than anyone I know.”
“Maybe, I just know I need to give back. The world since, you know, all that happened, has been nothing but kind to me. I’ll probably be in therapy for the rest of my life, but I want to do something worthwhile out of what happened to me.”
“I’m really proud of you, you know?” She felt the heat rise up to her cheeks.
“Oh, stop blushing. Gumption, remember? You have tons of it.” Nellie’s flight arrival was announced over the airport speakers.
“Speaking of gumption. Let’s go find my mother.”
“I can’t wait to see her. Plus, we’re going to need all the help we can get to manage the ten bags you likely brought. How will we get them all home?” she teased. He rolled his eyes, confirming her suspicions. Lowell picked up his messenger bag while she tossed their coffee cups into the recycling bin.
“By the way, how many coffees is that for you today?” he asked, as they walked to the arrivals gate.
“Four. No, five.” He hung his head in defeat. She would never give up coffee.
Acknowledgments
This book began as a dream. Figuratively and literally. In 2016, I woke one morning thinking ‘that would be a great scene in a book’ and so, grabbing coffee (of course), I trundled downstairs to my ‘office’ to jot it down. Eighteen hours later, I was still writing. The story poured out of me like a raging river. I would have collapsed at my desk if not for my husband coming to the rescue with water, food and eventually, wine. Funnily enough, that scene never made it to the final version.
Without the insights in those early days from my Sydney writing group, Daniel would be an unrealistic white knight and Grace’s character would be as savoury as eating cardboard. Thank you particularly to Lara, Jeanette, Avril and Ed, whose insights kept the book afloat and gave me more fodder to consider when turning the dream into a book.
Thank you to Jenny Breukelaar for her editorial insights. As a result, chapters were scrapped, characters rewritten, and it was only then that I took a good, long look at what worked - and what didn’t. I hope what is now published still made you gasp Jenny–in a good way.
My incredible Tasmanian Writer Friends: Nicole, Danielle, Phyll, Georgina, Kylie, Kat, Naomi and Matt. Thank you for the brainstorming and publishing insights. Most of all, thank you for your kindness and friendship.
To my ‘Circle’ - you know who you are. Thank you for always being there and cheering me on.
Thank you to Jimmy’s Beach Caravan Park in Hawk’s Nest, N.S.W. How could I not mention your kindness? Providing an extra night’s stay gave me the time and space to finish the first draft of this book! I can’t tell you how happy I was driving home, knowing I’d written my (first) novel!
To Philippa Jones: Thank you for helping me navigate Grace’s potential legal mess. Your insight saved me a whole lot of creative manoeuvring around what may have been a disaster. Thank you also to my stepbrother, Jim Brock, for sharing his expertise regarding with my many Child Services questions. For both these areas, any mistakes are my own.
My Lovelies: Kim McDaniel, Shari Hamilton, Natalie Cooke, Bronwyn Clark, Angela Garwood, Trish Weiner, Nicole Alley and Agnes Jenkins. These are my incredible beta readers. Thank you for your insightful, honest, and encouraging feedback. I am humbled by your support and thoughtfulness. I truly could not do what I do without you.
To my readers of Camino Wandering: Your many kind words and positive comments have given me the incentive to keep writing. I can only hope you continue to enjoy my stories about ‘women with gumption’ (as I like to call them). And to the guy who left the early 1* review for Camino Wandering, commenting about his displeasure about swearing in a book… I hope you didn’t read this one. But if you did, I look forward to seeing your next 1* review.
It’s been twenty years since my mum died and I still think of her every day. I’m sure I drove her nuts with the constant tapping on my Corona typewriter many moons ago, but it was her fault! She gifted the typewriter to me when I was a ‘tween, in an effort to encourage my creativity! (I guess it worked.) My mum was the person who taught me about resilience and love. When I write about women overcoming seemingly insurmountable challenges, my mum shines through each of these characters.
To my amazing daughter Natalie, who educates me daily (and I daresay she’d be surprised by that comment). She has become a great sounding board in my writing process. Natalie has always been an incredible young woman, but now she’s an adult, she comes with her own pot of gumption. I feel incredible blessed she still wants to speak with me daily, no matter where we are in the world. Thanks for all you do and all you are, Nat. I’m massively proud of you.
Finally, to the guy who puts up with my schiz every day: my husband Richard. Thank you, my love, for sticking not only with me, but with Grace, Lowell, and all the other characters swirling in my head. I may not love hearing all your suggestions, but thanks to you, I’m a better writer and a better person. When I mentioned it was ‘a package deal’, way back when, I guess there was way more to it than we realised. ;-)
About the Author
In 2011, Tara ditched the corporate desk, emptied her nest in 2017, and travelled the world for three years, working as a travel writer and photographer. Today, she lives in Tasmania, Australia. She has pivoted her writing focus to fictional stories, writing about women overcoming seemingly insurmountable challenges, revealing who they are and what they’re made of.
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If you enjoyed this book, you can find more of Tara’s writing on her website, www.taramarlowauthor.com. Tara publishes a monthly newsletter, sharing information about the books she's currently working on, her writing process and other random nuggets.
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Tara’s novels are available via Amazon, Apple, Kobo, Barnes & Noble, and wherever you find your favourite books.
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You can also find Tara on Facebook and Instagram.
Also by Tara Marlow
Novels:
Camino Wandering
Short Stories:
Camino Wandered (a short story epilogue to Camino Wandering)
The Wolf in Central Park
The Conundrum
What Would You Do?
For more, go to www.taramarlowauthor.com