But the idea of a trip to the hills was too tempting to refuse and Dee suspected that a healthy dose of fresh mountain air could be a useful antidote for the hangover situation. The hair, face and clothing dilemma would need to be remedied prior to setting a foot out of the bedroom.
‘Can you give me, like, ten minutes?’ she called.
‘Ah, yeah, no problem. You want coffee?’
‘Does a bear shit in the woods?’ she called, then winced.
Travis laughed in response to her crude reply and followed it with a confused-sounding, ‘Okay then.’
Ten minutes later, Dee wandered out to the driveway where Trav stood leaning against his navy ute. He was wearing a black t-shirt and faded blue jeans—an outfit that looked a little out of place given the weather. His hair, still wet from his shower, was pushed away from his face and his blue eyes sparkled in the winter sun. The scene looked so much like a frigging Diet Coke commercial it was almost comical, and Dee might have laughed if at that moment Travis hadn’t smiled at her.
That smile wiped any idea of comedy from her thoughts, and instead of thinking about laughing, she became aware of how weak her legs were, how fast her stomach was turning over and how her breath was hitching in her throat.
Travis stepped to the side and opened the door for her. He held out a welcoming arm and kept on smiling. Her hangover made her unreasonably angry at him. Couldn’t he tell that his damn smile had her in knots? Couldn’t he just cut the smiling and … be him, at least until she’d had coffee.
She headed for the open door, thankful she’d utilised the full ten minutes to focus on washing her body and face and brushing her teeth and hair rather than applying makeup. She may not look like she was ready to take the stage in a fashion show—unmade-up in jeans and a light-blue fitted knit—but at least she wouldn’t stink out the poor guy’s truck.
‘Coffee,’ he said, pointing to the travel mug in the cup holder closest to her.
‘You’re a god,’ she replied. It slipped out. She looked up at him open-mouthed and horrified. She really was in fine form today, but it wasn’t a moment too soon to make a silent vow to herself.
Never. Drink. Again.
Travis just smiled, closed the door, and walked around to the driver’s side. Dee picked up her coffee mug, wrapped her hands around it, savouring its warmth, and promptly applied it to her mouth. The final act served two purposes—to facilitate the drinking of the much-needed coffee, and to stop her saying anything else. Dee felt that most things that would come out of her mouth pre-coffee were destined to be either stupid, embarrassing or both. She barely removed her lips from that mug until half the coffee was gone and they were on the road out of town.
‘It’ll take about ten minutes to get to my mum’s,’ Travis said.
For the first time that morning, Dee considered that she was about to meet Travis’s mother and realised she felt a little nervous. She hoped Travis’s mother liked her, but she didn’t like that she felt this way. Not having to “meet the mother” was one of the plus sides of avoiding relationships. No hassle, no having to please people because of who they were to the person you loved. Life was simpler when you were single.
That thought was jarring. Dee was single, and she didn’t need to please Travis or his mother. She was about as close to being in a relationship with Travis as she was to being in a relationship with the indoor plant in the office at the factory. Why, then, did she feel so nervous about meeting his mother?
‘You’ll like my mum,’ Travis mused as if reading her mind. ‘I’m not saying that because I’m guessing, I’m saying it because everybody likes her. It’s impossible not to. She’s the type of person you can’t help liking.’
Dee couldn’t help but think of her own mother.
Bonnie Lovelace was most definitely not that type of person. She held everybody at arms-length and judged them from that distance. Warm was not a word you could use to describe her, neither was kind. In the Lovelace household, achievement and success were the only guaranteed routes to attention or tenderness of any kind.
Dee took another long sip of her coffee as she looked out at the rolling, sunlit landscape. She was determined to enjoy the scenery with Travis, without poisoning it with thoughts of her mother.
‘Does she come to you much? I mean, does she come to see you in town?’
Travis nodded slowly. ‘She does,’ he said. ‘It’s tricky for her, though. She’s—ah …’ He rubbed a hand over the back of this neck. ‘She’s not too well. She’s … she has cancer.’
He gulped, a seemingly physical reaction to the words.
Dee shifted in her seat and clutched at her chest. She felt bad for making the ride awkward, worse for causing Travis to think about his mother’s illness.
‘I’m so sorry,’ she breathed.
‘It’s okay,’ he said. ‘Well, I guess it’s not okay, but it’s our reality, and she doesn’t let it get to her. She refuses to let it get to her. You’ll see that when you meet her.’
‘Good for her,’ Dee said.
She knew little about cancer. She’d lived her life thus far without the insipid crawl of cancer’s spidery fingers working their way into the lives of her immediate family or close friends, but she’d learned enough about it through others. It was a spineless, unmerciful disease that did not discriminate, and she felt angry that Travis’s mother was forced to put up with suffering that she didn’t deserve.
‘She has Annie and me. I guess we keep her going.’
‘I bet your mum loves Annie.’
Travis cocked an eyebrow and looked at her side on. ‘Oh, well that’d be the understatement of the year. My mother adores her.’
Dee chuckled. ‘It’s kind of hard not to. She’s sweet, smart and cute to boot—the perfect combo.’
Travis smiled the soft, faraway smile of a parent who loves their child beyond measure. ‘That’s right,’ he agreed. ‘And Mum, when Annie was a baby—in fact, for her whole life, Mum has been like a mother to Annie. She’s fed her, bathed her, changed her and washed her clothes. That woman will play whatever Annie wants, even if it’s Guess Who for the millionth time. She’ll play it if that’s what Annie wants her to do. I don’t know what we’ll—’
Travis’s voice cracked over the words and Dee had to fight the deep, abiding desire to reach out and touch his arm, but he cleared his throat soon enough.
‘It’ll be tough, but we’ll manage.’
Dee pressed her lips together.. ‘You live in a small town,’ she said. ‘Communities like these are notorious for coming around people in times of need. The people who live here will support you.’
Travis’s gaze held firm on the road. ‘I guess,’ he said.
He raised his finger from the steering wheel and pointed up ahead. ‘Not far now.’
Dee took the opportunity to check out Travis’s tattoos. This was the first time she’d been able to look at them in detail—she hadn’t wanted to look nosy or like she was having a perv, even though her reasons for wanting to see his tattoos were exactly that, maybe with the order reversed.
The art running down his forearm was not a solitary image but a range of them butting up against each other, the edge of one design blending seamlessly into the next. A large, grey wolf prowled along the line in his skin where muscles and tendons ran beneath. A sky of lightly drawn soft grey clouds hovered above the wolf and to one the side were the words “work hard, love deep”. On the underside, an image of an eagle in full flight had Annie’s name printed beneath it. The artwork was simple but obviously meaningful to Travis.
His other arm, the one resting against the window, had a more fluid design of swirls and patterns adorned with colour here and there. Dee decided they suited him, although she quickly realised that thought was presumptuous. She had no idea who Travis really was or what drove him other than his love for Annie. One minute the guy was embarrassing her, the next he was ignoring her, and now he was inviting her to come and meet his mother.
14
The car ride to his mother’s house was odd to say the least. It had nothing to do with Dee—she was hungover, borderline cute in Travis’s opinion. It was refreshing to see her as something other than capable and strong. Even last night, when she’d been harassed by that idiot Dean, she’d seemed totally in control, more angry than vulnerable, and he liked that, although he would’ve been willing to knock Dean’s head from his shoulders if the need had arisen.
Now, in his ute, clinging to her coffee like it was a life raft, she looked exposed and small without the skirt suit he’d come to expect.
Travis shifted in his seat. He could sense her looking at him, though her staring was likely born from curiosity more than anything else, and he couldn’t blame her. The decision to invite her to come to his mother’s house to collect Annie had been kneejerk and sudden. One minute he was standing in the kitchen, palms resting on the benchtop as he waited for the kettle to boil, and the next he was knocking on her bedroom door.
As he drove, he thought about what had spurred that decision, but he couldn’t figure it out. He’d been standing there, waiting, looking out at the unseasonably sunny day and thinking about last night, about the conversation they’d had at the pub and then … he was moving. The walk to her door had been as involuntary as yawning.
He turned into the lengthy drive that led to his mother’s house and he glanced at Dee. She’d ceased looking at him and was busy draining her coffee cup. He pointed out his mother’s house resting on the hill above and Dee made a spluttering, choking sound.
‘That’s your mum’s place?’
He chuckled, unsure why her childlike surprise pleased him, but it did.
‘You grew up here? This house is … I saw this house from the road when I went out for lunch with Vince.’
At Dee’s mention of Vince, Travis’s smile fell swiftly from his face. That bloke annoyed him. And the thought of Dee with him annoyed him even more.
‘It’s so beautiful,’ Dee breathed.
Travis looked up at the mighty bluestone structure. His childhood home was beautiful in the traditional sense, but for him, it was so imbued with memory and feeling, he never examined the aesthetics. The home of his youth now served as Annie’s happy place, her home away from home. And for Travis, now and forever, whenever he looked at the bluestone building, he would think of his mother.
Dee’s mouth hung open, wide and probably uncouth, but she couldn’t believe she was at the house. She stepped out of the ute and a Golden Retriever came to dance at her feet.
Annie ran out of the front door of the house and a tall, dark-haired woman who looked to be in her mid-sixties stepped out behind her.
‘I love this house!’ Dee cried, feeling instant embarrassment at her candour.
‘That’s great,’ said the woman. ‘I’m Dianne Parker, Trav’s mum. You must be Dee.’
‘She knows that because I told her all about you,’ Annie called, her little voice catching on a gust of wind.
‘Hello, yes, I’m Dee.’ Dee held out her hand to the older woman.
Travis picked up Annie and squeezed her as if he hadn’t seen her for twenty-four days, rather than twenty-four hours.
‘Let’s head inside,’ Dianne said, shaking Dee’s hand. ‘The wind will pick up soon.’
They walked up the stairs and onto the porch, Dee’s looked from side to side as she took in the details of the house.
‘The bluestone is amazing,’ she said upon a sigh.
‘It is,’ Dianne said, holding the front door open for her. ‘It keeps the wind and the cold at bay. It’s pretty, too,’ she added with a wink and a smile, forming pleasing clusters of wrinkles around her eyes.
Dee decided that she liked this woman. Travis had been right.
‘It sure is,’ Dee agreed.
Annie, having freed herself from Travis’s embrace, ran ahead of both Dee and Dianne. ‘Come and see the kitchen!’ she called over her shoulder.
Dee smiled. Annie was obviously very proud of her grandmother’s house and with good reason. Dee had expected that the house’s interior might be a little dated given it had been in the family so long, but the hallway was freshly painted a soft lemon and the floorboards were shiny as though they’d been sanded and polished recently.
Annie led them to the kitchen, which was light-filled and freshly painted, too—a creamy yellow. The benchtops were wooden and the cabinetry white. The kitchen table in the middle of the room was a warm polished timber.
‘Sit.’ Dianne motioned to the chairs around the table. ‘I’ve made a pot of tea,’ she added as Dee and Travis sat down.
Dianne collected a pre-prepared tray complete with teapot, cups and saucers, and a basket of scones.
‘We made those,’ Annie said. ‘For you Daddy, but Dee’s here too, so ... hope you appreciate them.’
Dee laughed. ‘They look and smell delicious, and I haven’t had breakfast yet, so I’m sure I will appreciate them, Annie.’
Dianne collected dishes of jam and cream from the fridge as well as a small jug of milk. ‘What? Haven’t you been feeding her Trav?’ she said.
Travis smirked, and Dee, embarrassed, explained. ‘Actually, he doesn’t have to feed me. I get my own food.’
‘But you get me food too. You help me with my toast and sometimes you give me cookies when Dad’s not—’ Annie gasped and clamped a hand over her mouth.
Dee raised her eyebrows in mock warning. ‘Shh,’ she whispered.
Travis rolled his eyes, then took in the beautiful morning tea his mother had prepared. ‘Wish you wouldn’t wear yourself out by going to all this trouble.’
‘It’s no trouble. Annie helped me,’ Dianne said, smiling at her granddaughter. An unmistakable look of love passed between them, and Dee felt the full, sad weight of the knowledge that these two would soon be separated.
‘Let’s dig in then,’ Travis said, pulling a scone from the pile.
Dianne passed out side plates, then poured the tea, and Dee helped Annie prepare her scone.
‘How close are your nearest neighbours?’ Dee asked.
‘Oh, there’s a lovely family on the next hill over. When we go outside, I’ll show you how far our land stretches. It’s eighty acres, but there’s no fence line. There’s no farming up here, so we don’t bother with fences.’
‘When Cory and I used to go exploring, we never knew whose land we were on and we didn’t care,’ Travis added with a shrug.
‘You two were wild out there. You stayed out till dusk most days. Sometimes, I’d get scared you’d be blown clear off the hills.’
‘Where’s your brother now?’ Dee asked.
‘In Sydney with his wife. No kids, though. His wife is a career woman and doesn’t want them.’
Dee looked down at her scone. She’d been in this position before. She knew how it felt to find herself in a conversation that centred around the importance of having children and not putting your career first. It was a choice she’d had to defend many times. She only wished she didn’t have to do it today when she was still slightly hungover and sitting in this beautiful house.
Dianne might’ve sensed her discomfort because she quickly changed the subject. ‘Travis said you used to run a hotel, Dee. Running a paper recycling plant must be different from running a hotel.’
‘Yes, very different, though there are similarities. The hotel was stylish and beautiful, and managing it was hard work. The factory is not so stylish or beautiful, but it still takes lots of hard work.’
Dianne laughed.
‘If a factory looked pretty it probably wouldn’t be very productive,’ Travis added.
‘True,’ Dee said. ‘But I am trying to make the front office look a little more appealing.’
‘Good for you,’ Dianne said. ‘It’s important to
make the public-facing aspect of a business look inviting. I remember the last time I was there it looked drab. I’ll have to come and look at your improvements.’
‘Yes, come and have a look. We’d love that.’
‘Who’d love that?’ Travis cut in. ‘You and Vince?’
Travis’s tone hinted at jealousy, and for whatever reason, that sent a jolt of excitement through her core.
‘No,’ Dee said. ‘I was thinking of all of us at the plant.’
Travis gave her a curt nod and Dianne’s tone lifted the mood. ‘Right then, it’s settled. I’ll drop in next week.’
‘That would be great,’ Dee said.
‘Can I show Dee my bedroom and the outside now, Grandma?’
Dee caught a look of exhaustion in Dianne’s eyes but she masked it quick enough. ‘Of course you can, darling.’
Annie climbed from her chair and reached out to hold Dee’s hand. ‘Let’s go,’ she said.
Dee couldn’t resist and followed Annie without hesitation.
15
Once Dee and Annie had left the kitchen, Dianne inspected Travis with a knowing look.
‘You never mentioned Dee was so pretty,’ Dianne mused.
Travis pulled free a morsel of scone and tossed it into his mouth. ‘Maybe I hadn’t noticed.’
His mum delivered a hearty laugh. ‘I bet you didn’t. Annie seems to love her.’
Travis couldn’t deny that observation—it was one hundred percent true. Over the past week, if Annie wasn’t with Dee, she was talking about Dee. This did nothing to help him block out his roaming Dee-centred thoughts.
‘It’s been good for Annie, having Dee around,’ he confessed. ‘An extra pair of hands never goes astray.’
‘That’s good,’ Dianne said. ‘It’ll be good for Annie to have a positive female influence in her life.’
‘Steady on, Mum. This is a temporary arrangement. And anyway, Annie already has a positive female influence in her life.’
Winter in Mason Valley Page 10