The Summer Sisters

by Lilly Mirren

  They’d run through the wedding rehearsal that afternoon. She and Reeda were bridesmaids, opposite Alex’s younger brother, Matt, and Reeda’s husband, Duncan. The rehearsal had been awkward and stilted, and Bindi hoped the wedding would run smoother, as the pastor officiating the service had assured them all it would.

  “I think I’ve still got sand in my teeth,” said Matt, beside her.

  She faced him with a grin. “Really?” He’d taken a dive in the sand while attempting to speed walk her down the aisle. “Let’s try moving a little slower tomorrow, okay?”

  He nodded, his pimply face flushing red. “I was nervous.”

  “Nothing to be nervous about, just hold onto my arm and I’ll even count for you under my breath if you like.”

  “Thanks.” He fidgeted with his knife and fork. His plate had been wiped clean of the roast they’d been served half an hour earlier. Bindi’s plate had barely been touched.

  “You’re not hungry?” he asked.

  She shook her head. “Nope.”

  “I’ll eat your roast beef…if you don’t want it.”

  “Be my guest.” She pushed her plate towards him and watched in amusement as he tucked into it with gusto. He was nineteen years old, and his stomach never seemed to reach full capacity. He was always eating something.

  Bindi rested her chin in her hands and scanned the room. Mima’s eyes found hers. Mima arched her eyebrows, as if to ask a question.

  Bindi swallowed the swirling nausea. She shook her head in Mima’s direction. Mima pushed out her chair and lumbered over to where Bindi sat.

  “You okay, love?”

  “I don’t feel great.”

  “Want to get some fresh air?”

  She nodded.

  Mima held out a hand and Bindi took it, her own soon enfolded in Mima’s larger one. Together they walked through the crowded restaurant, skirting around tables, and smiling and nodding at guests who called out a greeting.

  Outside, a cool breeze lifted over Greenmount Beach and soothed Bindi’s clammy forehead. They walked a few paces until they found a park bench, and both sagged into it at the same time.

  “Thanks, Mima.”

  “Anytime, my love. I hate that you’re sick.”

  “I know.” When she’d told Mima about the lymphoma, she’d worried the older woman might faint. Mima’s lips had clenched tight together, and her face had turned a shade of pale she’d never seen before.

  Mima patted her hand. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

  “You being here is help enough.”

  “You know, Edie would’ve been great at this — taking care of you, helping you get through it…she was always great at looking after people,” sighed Mima.

  “She was good at that. I miss her.” The familiar clenching of her heart at the pricking of memories passed quickly. Each time she felt it, the grief moved on faster than the time before. It was fading most days. Sometimes it felt heavy, other times she could think of her grandmother and smile. “But I’m glad you’re here, Mima.”

  She smiled at Mima and squeezed her hand. Mima looked at her with glistening eyes. “Me too, honey.”

  The dull roar of waves hummed nearby — the ocean inky black from where they sat. Overhead, rainbow lorikeets squawked and tittered, settling to sleep in the tall, green fir trees that lined the edge of the road. People ambled by in twos and threes. A shout followed by raucous laughter. The noise came from a local hotel where the murmur of conversation ebbed and flowed through the cool night air.

  “I never had children of my own…” mused Mima, her voice soft.

  “Did you want to?”

  Mima huffed. “Of course. I would’ve loved to be surrounded by little cherub faces…in a way. Though, after Ollie died, I couldn’t face the idea of finding someone else. When I finally pulled my life back together, I was living with your grandparents and the days ticked by. I never met anyone else I wanted to spend my life with and before I knew it, those days were gone. You only get a window of opportunity to build a family, and it’s gone faster than you can imagine.”

  Bindi studied Mima’s profile, her throat tightening. “I’m sorry, Mima.”

  Mima sighed. “Don’t be sorry for me, I wouldn’t change a thing. I ended up with all of you in my life, didn’t I?”

  Bindi nodded, unable to speak around the lump in her throat.

  “That’s what I’m trying to say — I never had my own children, or grandchildren, but I always felt as though Keith, and now you girls, were my family. And if anything happens…” Her voice broke, and she inhaled a long, slow breath, her gaze meeting Bindi’s.

  Bindi smiled through a blur of tears. “Nothing’s going to happen Mima. I’m going to be fine.”

  “I know, honey. You’re strong, you’ll get through this.” Mima patted her hand. “It’s just…you get to my age and you assume you’ll die first. That’s how it’s meant to be. You’re not supposed to outlive…” She hesitated, shook her head. “I love ya, kiddo. You may not know it, but you’re the one who held all this together after Edie died.”

  Bindi rested a head on Mima’s shoulder. “I love you too, Mima.”

  They’d been seated outside for a while before Kate came to find them. She encouraged them back inside and Bindi was feeling well enough to manage it, so she followed Kate and Mima back to the restaurant’s door. Before she stepped inside, someone called her name from the street.

  She spun around with narrowed eyes. Brendan.

  “Oh, hi. What are you doing here?”

  He grinned, shrugged. “You told me where you were eating, I thought I’d come and see if you wanted a lift home. It’d be good to talk and we haven’t really had a chance yet. I’ve been staying at the inn a week, and you’re always busy…”

  Behind her, Kate called out. “Bindi, everything okay?”

  She nodded. “Brendan’s here, he’s going to take me home.”

  Kate hurried to her side. “Brendan’s here? Oh, hi Brendan.” She waved a hand in his direction and he offered a brief nod. “You want to go back to the inn?”

  Bindi shrugged. “Only if it’s okay with you. I’m not feeling great, and I wouldn’t mind getting to bed early.”

  “Of course.” Kate embraced her, kissed her cheek. “Thanks for coming, I know it was hard for you to manage. I really wanted you to be here, though. So, thank you.”

  “Of course, I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.”

  “I’m going to check on you when I get home…okay?” Kate stepped back, studying Bindi’s face. She did that a lot these days, looking for any sign of the illness hidden away inside Bindi’s body, no doubt. She worried and Bindi knew that. Though Kate didn’t say it, instead adopting a cheerful tone and wide smile.

  “Thanks,” replied Bindi.

  “I’ll get your purse.” Kate rushed into the restaurant, soon returning with Bindi’s small, back purse.

  Bindi slung the strap over one shoulder. She smoothed both hands down the skirt of her black halter-top dress. She’d bought the dress weeks earlier on sale at Tweed City. Already it was too big for her, loose around her stomach, hips, and breasts.

  Bindi walked beside Brendan to his hire-car. He opened the door for her, and she slid into the leather seat with a sigh of relief. Even if it was unexpected to see Brendan, and she was dreading the conversation they were about to have, she was also relieved to be headed back to the inn. She pictured her bed and a rush of fatigue washed over her.

  Bindi leaned her head against the car door, peering out the window as they drove.

  When they reached the inn, she was struggling to keep her eyes open. Brendan had kept up a steady stream of chatter all the way there, talking about Melbourne, their friends, what was going on in people’s lives she hadn’t thought about in over a year. It surprised her how quickly she’d let go of that life. How little she thought about her friends, her job, her colleagues. It’d been easier to walk away and start again than she’d expected i
t to be. Part of that was the fact that Brendan was inextricably wound up in every part of her old life, and he’d caused her so much hurt and pain that walking away and not looking back had been the only way to cope.

  Inside the inn, guests milled about. Wait staff were clearing the last of the evening meal from the dining room. Some carried cups of coffee into the dining and sitting rooms, or glasses of port and wine. Others were tidying, wiping, cleaning. The inn buzzed with activity and fairly hummed with life.

  It was more than Bindi cared to face.

  “Should we sit on the verandah?” she asked.

  Brendan nodded, offered her a hand. She took it and they walked together out through the back door to where it was quiet. They found some rocking chairs at one end where they could be alone and sat, side-by-side, facing the darkness. He still held her hand. Her palm felt clammy.

  “Have you thought about what we discussed?” he asked suddenly.

  Bindi swallowed. She’d known he would ask her about it but had been putting off this conversation all week. “I have…”

  “And?”

  “And, I think it’s best I stay here for now.”

  “What does that mean?” he faced her, releasing her hand, the crease between his eyes deepening.

  She sighed. “I’m happy here.”

  “But what about us?”

  “There is no us, Bren. You left me for another woman, or did you forget that?”

  He scrubbed both hands over his face. “I told you, I’m confused about it all. I think it might’ve been a mistake… I miss you.”

  “You think?”

  “I don’t know.” He slumped down in the chair, set his feet on the verandah railing and began pumping, rocking the chair back and forth.

  “But you’re engaged to be married, Bren. You told me you weren’t the marrying type, we were together for six years and you never once considered asking me to be your wife,” she said, her voice rising steadily. “And here you are, newly engaged to someone else.” She sat forwards in her seat, then stood and paced to the railing and back again.

  He stood as well, faced her, both hands pressed to his hips. “You were always there… I took you for granted. I’m sorry. We got together so young, and I was focused on my career. Then Amy came along, and she was mysterious, exciting… I don’t know. I guess I wasn’t thinking clearly or something.”

  “What do you mean, Amy came along? Did you have an affair with her while we were still together?”

  His nostrils flared.

  “I knew it! I knew it,” she cried.

  “I’m sorry.”

  Bindi started pacing again. “And what’s the matter now, the mystery is gone?”

  He shrugged. “Something like that. I realise what I gave up. You and I, we have a history together. I don’t know how to live without you.”

  He reached for her, but she pulled away. “You broke my heart. Did you know that?”

  He inhaled a sharp breath. “I’m sorry.”

  “I thought we’d spend our lives together, and you…” She shook her head, slumped. “You were right.”

  “What?” he asked, his brow furrowed.

  “You were right to break things off. We weren’t good together. I wish you hadn’t done it the way you did, and it hurt for a long time, but I’ve moved on.”

  He shook his head. “I can’t believe you moved on so quickly.”

  “Don’t go down that path… You know I had to. You left, you got engaged, did you think I should hang around pining for you?”

  He grunted. “I thought maybe you’d give me another chance…after everything we’ve been through together.”

  She leaned on the verandah railing, staring out in the direction of the beach. The thunder of waves in the distance drew her in. Brendan joined her, sliding closer until their shoulders brushed together.

  “You look beautiful tonight,” he whispered, his eyes dark.

  She smiled. “Thank you.”

  “Don’t give up on us so soon. And you should think about that job offer…it’s a good job, you’d like it.”

  “And if I go back with you, your boss will keep you on?”

  His face reddened. “Something like that.”

  She sighed. “I’m sorry, Bren. I can’t do it.”

  A plover called in the distance. He sighed. “I wish you’d —”

  “There’s something else,” she interrupted.

  He frowned. “Okay.”

  “I’m sick.”

  “Sick?”

  “It’s cancer.”

  His eyes darkened. “What?”

  She nodded. “So, that’s another reason I want to stay in Cabarita Beach. I need to be with my family right now. And I couldn’t deal with starting a new, challenging job. I have to focus on getting well.”

  He took a step back, his hands clenched at his sides. “You have cancer? I mean, I could tell you’d lost some weight, but I thought it was the stress of everything — us, your grandmother, the inn… Does this mean…?”

  “I’m not dying, if that’s what you’re asking. It’s treatable, and I’m doing chemo at the moment. I’m going to be well again, it might take a little while, but I’ll be fine.” She felt like she was saying that a lot these days. I’ll be fine. It’s what everyone in her life wanted to hear, needed to hear. And she needed to believe it as well. So, she said it, over and over. Maybe if she said it often enough, emphatically enough, it would be true.

  Brendan stepped forward, kissed her forehead, then pulled away. “I’m so sorry, Bindi. I hope you’ll get through it. I can’t… I can’t do this though.”

  He spun on his heel and fled along the length of the verandah, jumped down the stairs and disappeared into the darkness, headed in the direction of the beach. She knew him well enough to know he needed time alone now to process what she’d said. She wasn’t surprised he couldn’t face her illness. She’d had six years to learn everything about him and one thing that’d always bothered her was his tendency to run from the hard stuff.

  She sighed, straightened, and wandered back into the inn and upstairs to her room. She stood inside the room, glancing around at the few knick-knacks she’d gathered since she moved there. Most of her belongings were in storage in Kingscliff, since she only had this room at the inn. When Kate and Alex were married tomorrow, Kate was moving into Alex’s house and she would move downstairs to the suite. She’d finally have enough space to move in all the things she’d shipped up from the unit in Melbourne. She’d miss this room though; it was cosy and had been her home for over a year.

  She sighed, headed for the bathroom, and washed her face with warm water. It seemed to help with the nausea, although what she really needed now was sleep. Would it be this way for all of the chemotherapy treatments? She hoped not, but it was likely she guessed. The doctor had said there would be side effects. At least she only had another half dozen treatments to get through. After that, they’d decide whether she needed radiation or not. Something new to face. She couldn’t think about that now. A gigantic yawn almost split her face in two.

  She changed into pyjamas, climbed into bed, and rested her grateful head on her soft pillow. Brendan’s words rang in her head, and she couldn’t help running through the conversation over again in her mind. Had she made the right choice? Part of her longed to return to the life she’d left behind, but she knew it wouldn’t make her happy. No, she was happy in Cabarita, at the Waratah Inn. It was her home now, she had family here, and a job that gave her more satisfaction than journalism ever had. She had a fight ahead of her that needed all the support she could get, and that support was here, not back in Melbourne with a group of people who’d barely called or emailed more than once or twice since she left. Her home was at the inn. And it was here she’d stay.

  10

  November 1996

  Cabarita Beach

  Kate Summer sat on the verandah at the Waratah Inn, her feet tucked up beneath her, a cup of steaming hot coffee nestled betwe
en her hands. The collar of her white dressing gown tickled her neck, and she inhaled a long slow breath.

  She was getting married today.

  At twenty-nine years of age she was marrying the man of her dreams. Alex had done it all before, of course. He’d married his late wife right out of university. Then, he’d lost her to cancer four years earlier, and moved to Kingscliff to escape the pain. She hated that he’d had to experience that, to go through the trauma of losing his wife and leaving behind everything and everyone he loved in Coffs Harbour, but she was grateful they met. Grateful he’d chosen to work part-time at the inn, taking care of the horses for Nan. Grateful for all the time they’d spent together since, getting to know one another, falling deeper in love with each day that passed.

  And today, they’d finally be husband and wife. She would move out of the downstairs suite at the inn, where Nan and Pop had lived together for years, and join Alex in his house in Kingscliff. She’d already moved most of her possessions out earlier in the week. All she had left in the suite were the things she needed for the wedding and her honeymoon luggage.

  Butterflies skittered in her stomach as she crossed her legs beneath her gown and let her eyes drift shut. A shout made her jump, and her eyes blinked open, taking in the winding sunlit path through the garden that led to the cove beyond. Alex jogged along the path, dripping wet with a surfboard beneath his arm.

  He raised a hand in salute, and she waved back, a smile curling her lips. If nothing else, she was grateful for such a handsome soon-to-be husband who looked amazing in a pair of board shorts.

  She laughed to herself, her face warming as he climbed the stairs and set down his surfboard against the verandah railing. He kissed her lips. Wet and salty, his lips pressed gently to hers, then he took a step back.

  “Want a hug?”

  She shook her head with a chuckle. “No thanks, I’m fine.”

  “Sure?” He cocked his head to one side, his hazel eyes sparking with mischief.

  “Definitely.” She tugged her dressing gown tighter around her body.