by Loretta Hill
To allow for her father’s retirement and daytime shenanigans, they had employed a winemaker named Adam Carter to run Tawny Brooks. Adam was nice enough, but she did feel that for a person who was not a member of the family, he was around far too much. Her parents allowed him to live on the property. Even when Spider was working at the restaurant fulltime he had kept a unit in Dunsborough.
She imagined it was because her mother needed someone to call when her father went off on another of his mystery jaunts, which he did at least a couple of times a week. He was certainly nowhere to be found the day Phoebe dropped by to ask permission to hold the wedding at Tawny Brooks.
The front door to the Maxwell residence was always unlocked, so she just walked straight into the large timber and stone house built to enjoy panoramic views of the surrounding vineyard.
She found her mother cooking in a large seventies style kitchen, with a broad kitchen counter and exposed brick walls. ‘Hey, Mum!’
‘Darling!’ Her mother left her mound of chocolate chip cookie dough on the bench and came round to hug her. ‘I was just about to call you. Would you like a drink?’
She went to the fridge and drew out a jug of cold water, which she poured in a tall glass before Phoebe could answer. ‘You know I saw on the news the other day that three people were rushed to hospital with dehydration because they had not had enough fluids.’
Phoebe picked up the water and took a tentative sip. ‘Weren’t they sun baking on the beach or something?’
Anita’s dark eyes glinted. ‘Oh, so you saw it too. That’s good. Then you know how important it is to drink water.’
‘Mum, I can assure you, I get plenty of fluids during the day.’
‘I just worry, sweetheart, what with everything that’s going on in your life, you forget.’
She sighed. ‘I don’t forget, Mum. When I’m thirsty I drink.’
‘But eight glasses? That’s supposed to be the daily intake. Although it’s rather ambiguous, don’t you think, because who knows what size glass most people have in their pantry? I mean, what if you have really small cups in your cupboard. In that case, wouldn’t you then need to drink extra to make up the quota?’
‘Er … I guess so.’
‘What size are your glasses, sweetheart? Are you still using those squat little tumblers I saw in your cupboard the last time I visited? You really should throw those out, you know. Get some new ones. Do you want me to get some for you?’
‘No, that’s okay, Mum,’ Phoebe said quickly. ‘Don’t worry about it.’
‘Are you sure because I’m happy to go out and buy some for you.’
‘No, I don’t want you to go to any trouble.’
Her mother tapped her chin. ‘In fact, come to think of it, I have some lovely glasses in a box in the roof that I never put in our cupboard because there wasn’t enough room. Perfectly good glasses, brand new too. Why don’t I get them and you can pop them in the boot of your car before you go?’
‘No thanks, Mum.’
‘Don’t be silly. They’re just going to waste up there. Your father and I don’t need that many glasses in our kitchen cupboards.’
‘Mum,’ she grabbed her arm as though trying to shake her out of a stupor, ‘I’ve got enough glasses.’
‘Oh, all right.’ Her mother hunched her shoulders. ‘But if you’re going to use those dreadful tumblers for water, make sure you drink nine glasses not eight, won’t you?’
Phoebe had no idea how many glasses of water she drank per day and had no intention of starting to keep track, but she knew it was easier to agree and move on than to protest.
‘Okay sure, nine glasses it is.’
Her mother sighed and bit her lip apologetically. ‘I’m annoying you, aren’t I? I can hear it in your voice.’
Obviously, it was a trick question. If she agreed, she would risk hurting her mother’s feelings and thus be stuck talking about nothing for another half an hour so that she could soothe them. If she denied it, her mother would extend the lecture on the merits of water drinking further to fully satisfy her interest. It was a lose–lose situation. So she decided to try to change the subject instead and said brightly, ‘I have news!’
‘Really,’ Anita beamed. ‘Why didn’t you say so?’
I’ve been trying to.
‘Spider and I have decided where we want to have the wedding.’
‘Really? Where?’
‘Here, if that’s okay.’
Her mother gave a shout of glee and flung her arms around her again.
Phoebe winced as her mother squeezed her ribcage tightly. ‘Okay, okay. I take it you’re fine with it.’
‘Of course I’m fine with it, this is just what I need!’ Anita cried. ‘All my daughters home again, even if it’s just for one day.’
‘What about Dad?’
‘Don’t worry about him, he’ll love the idea.’ Her mother patted her arm as she stepped back. ‘He misses you girls terribly.’
Phoebe hung her head. ‘I know. Where is he anyway?’
‘Out.’ Her mother waved her hand over her shoulder dismissively and stepped back around the counter to continue cutting shapes into cookie dough.
Phoebe groaned. ‘Where to this time?’
‘I don’t know,’ Anita frowned. ‘He doesn’t confide in me. He just goes.’
‘I’ll have a chat to him.’
Anita looked up sadly. ‘No, don’t. You might make it worse. He keeps telling me he retired to spend more time with me. And for the most part he has, but then he gets this vacant look in his eyes and just takes off for hours.’
Phoebe held her breath. ‘You’re not worried?’
‘I think perhaps retirement is not as easy as he thought,’ she shrugged. ‘There is definitely something playing on his mind. I know your father. He will tell me eventually.’ She seemed to inwardly pep herself up and lifted her eyes eagerly. ‘Let’s talk more about your wedding plans. We’ve got so much to figure out. Tell me what I can do.’
It was at this point that Phoebe realised that she had another big problem on her hands. Her mother wanted to be as involved in the wedding as Patricia Fitzwilliam. How was she going to split up the jobs without making either one feel passed over? At the time, she had foolishly avoided talking about the subject in too much depth. After all, she’d just promised her mother a wedding at Tawny Brooks; surely Anita would be satisfied with that for now.
What she hadn’t expected was to be completely ambushed by Patricia when she and Spider went to stay in Perth. The woman could have been a professional wedding planner in another life. She had a list of ‘to do’ items long enough to make Phoebe’s head spin. By the time she brought out the invitation sample she’d had designed, Phoebe had been relieved to have something to delegate to her without worry. After all, the details of the wedding had already been worked out at Tawny Brooks with her parents. How could her mother take offence at not being involved in putting that on paper?
To give Patricia credit, the design she picked was also very tasteful. So Phoebe gave her the go ahead to print and post them all. That had at least kept Patricia off her back for a few days, while she shopped for wedding gowns, caught up with her city friends and then, lastly, with Eve.
Quiet, shy and usually a homebody at heart, she had never thought that Eve would be so difficult to pin down. Spider had wanted to catch up with her too, maybe for dinner one night, but Eve had been suspiciously busy for the rest of the evenings they were in town. Phoebe was beginning to wonder if Tash was the only one she should be worried about. Eve had been so distant at the dress fitting and not at all enthusiastic about helping with the wedding. She’d had to practically beg her to come home a month before the wedding.
It made her worry about what her chances with Tash might be. Her older sister had been MIA for weeks now. She would have thought she’d at least get a call when she received the invitation. But the silence from Sydney was deafening. The person she did get a call from after her mo
rning at the bridalwear shop, however, was her mother.
‘I received the invitation yesterday, darling. And it’s very nice. Very elegant, of course.’
But.
‘I just wondered why Patricia and Graeme got first mention.’
‘First mention?’
‘Yes, their names are first on the invitation. For some reason they’ve been given seniority and I was just wondering casually why that was.’
Phoebe’s brow wrinkled in worry. ‘They haven’t been given seniority, Mum. It’s just one of those things.’
‘Are you sure?’ Her mother’s voice trembled a little. ‘I thought perhaps it might be because they’re putting in more money than we are.’
Her parents weren’t, in fact, putting any money towards the wedding. They had said they would contribute by supplying food, wine and the venue instead.
‘Mum, it’s nothing to do with money.’
‘Because, you know, giving you full use of our property is a very big gift.’
‘I know.’
‘And food and wine, I mean, that’s half the cost.’
‘It is, and I’m really grateful.’
‘Plus with vintage going on at the same time this whole function in our backyard is very inconvenient to us.’
‘Are you having second thoughts about us having our wedding at Tawny Brooks?’
‘Of course not!’ Anita was adamant. ‘That’s not what I was getting at. I just think, given our contribution, it seems odd that you would choose Spider’s parents as the leading party.’
‘They’re not the leading party, and I didn’t choose to write them first. In fact, I didn’t word the invitation. Spider’s mum organised it all.’
‘Is that so?’ replied Anita, the cynical inflection in her voice indicating that all was becoming clear to her now.
Phoebe quickly switched to damage control. ‘Mum, it’s not like that. It’s just one of those things. It doesn’t matter whose name is first on the invitation. Nobody is going to notice.’
Anita snorted. ‘If that’s the case, then why did Patricia put her name first?’
‘She probably didn’t even think about it.’
‘I think you’re being naive there, darling. If she had a shred of humility she would have done the right thing and honoured our contribution.’ When she heard Phoebe’s sigh she quickly added, ‘Not that I’m trying to make a big deal out of this. That’s the last thing I want to do.’
Really?
‘I have no desire to stress you out about the wedding. I know how much you’ve got on your mind.’
‘Thank you.’
‘But I do think if you’d just let me handle the invitations this never would have happened.’
As surely as Napoleon leading an army into battle, her mother was declaring war. Phoebe shut her eyes. Was she going to be the referee at Patricia and Anita’s boxing match?
‘In any event,’ her mother went on to say, ‘you’ll have to give me the contact details of the printer she used as I have a few more invitations to send out myself.’
This made Phoebe pause. Here was the catch for having the wedding on her parents’ property. ‘Mum, we were kind of hoping for a small wedding. Not too many people.’
‘I know.’
‘Just family and a few of our close friends.’
‘I wouldn’t dream of inviting anyone who wasn’t family,’ her mother said airily.
Phoebe’s brows furrowed. Don’t panic. Stay calm. ‘Then who else were you going to invite?’
‘Well, my cousin Athena, for instance.’
‘I’ve never heard of her.’
‘Probably because I haven’t seen her in five years.’
‘Then why invite her to my wedding?’
‘Darling, Athena is my first cousin. I couldn’t have a wedding in the family without inviting her.’
‘Mum, how many cousins do you have?’
‘About twenty.’
‘Twenty!’
‘They all came to Tash’s wedding,’ her mother declared defensively.
How do I not remember that?
‘Don’t worry, darling,’ her mother said, ‘I don’t intend to invite their children. But the spouses must be welcome, of course.’
‘Right,’ Phoebe agreed, faintly wondering how she was going to break it to Spider that they were going to have forty-plus strangers at their wedding.
In the end, she decided to put it off and give Tash a call instead.
But her sister, predictably, did not pick up. She left a voicemail message that remained unanswered for a couple of days. By then, it was time for Phoebe and Spider to leave Perth and return home. She didn’t try Tash again till she was safely back in Dunsborough. This time, however, she tried Tash’s office number instead. If her sister wouldn’t pick up her mobile or her home line, then perhaps she would answer her work phone. It came as a complete surprise when the receptionist there told her that ‘Natasha Maxwell no longer works here’.
‘Then where does she work?’ Phoebe demanded more to herself than to the woman on the other end of the line.
‘I’m sorry, she didn’t leave a forwarding number.’
Phoebe hung up, her fingernails madly tapping on her palm. Worry was definitely beginning to set in. What was going on with Tash? Where was she? She decided to call Heath to find out. He was probably at work too but she had his mobile.
Unfortunately, her call to him also went straight to voicemail so she left a message. ‘Hi, Heath, it’s me, Phoebe. How are you? Sorry it’s been so long since we last spoke.’ She took a deep breath. Leaving messages was always harder than you envisaged. Particularly keeping it short and concise with so much whirling around in your head. ‘Look, I’m calling because I was wondering if you and Tash got the invitation to my wedding on the 15th of March and if you’ll be able to come to Tawny Brooks a month early to help out. There’s heaps of work to be done on the restaurant so I could really use your expertise.’ She bit her lip. ‘I’ve been trying to get hold of Tash but she doesn’t appear to be picking up her phone. I also just heard she’s no longer working at Gunnings Food Group. Is everything okay? Call me, all right?’
She put the phone down and was startled when it rang back almost immediately.
‘Phee, it’s me.’
‘Tash! Oh, thank God. I was starting to worry. Why haven’t you returned any of my calls? I even tried calling your work. Why didn’t you tell me you’d moved on?’
‘Because I haven’t really,’ Natasha replied. ‘I’m still looking for work.’
‘Any luck?’
‘Not really. The market is pretty slow right now.’
‘So then why did you quit? I thought you liked it there.’
There was a pause. ‘I did. And I didn’t quit. They let me go.’
‘Oh.’ Understanding dawned on Phoebe. Her sister had always been such a high flyer and this would have been a blow. Maybe this was why she had been so distant lately. Say something positive. ‘Don’t worry, Tash, with your reputation you’ll get a job again in no time.’
Her sister was uncharacteristically silent so she tried another tack.
‘Why don’t you just take a break for a while? Do something fun. I mean, money isn’t an issue, is it? Heath still has his job, right?’
‘Y-yes.’
‘Well, there you go,’ she finished brightly. ‘Speaking of fun. Did you get the invitation to our wedding?’
‘I … we did,’ Tash’s voice seemed firmer. ‘Actually, that’s why I rang.’
‘You are coming, right?’ Phoebe tried to lighten the mood with a jokey tone. ‘You’re in the bridal party, remember.’
Her lightheartedness was lost on her sister. ‘Of course I remember,’ Tash replied seriously.
‘I actually have another favour to ask you,’ Phoebe began tentatively. ‘Could you and Heath come down to Tawny Brooks a month early?’
‘A month early?’ Her sister hedged. ‘Why?’
‘Becau
se the restaurant is a mess and I need your help. But especially Heath’s, him being the engineer and all.’
There was a rather long pause. ‘I don’t think Heath will be able to come.’
‘Why?’ Phoebe couldn’t help feel slightly hurt by Tash’s response. She hadn’t even said she’d ask him. ‘Why?’
‘He’s just really busy at work right now. Huge project on. They just can’t let him go. Not for a whole month.’
‘Oh.’ Phoebe was genuinely disappointed.
‘I mean,’ Tash rushed on, ‘I’ll be there, of course. I just don’t want Heath to tick off his boss by taking all that time off. Especially since I’ve already lost my job.’
Fair call.
Phoebe’s heart lightened. ‘No, I wouldn’t want that for you guys. Don’t worry, I’ll try and get someone else.’
‘Thanks, Phee.’
‘Besides, it’s not like he’s not coming to the wedding.’
Tash cleared her throat. ‘We’ll just see how it goes, okay? Of course he’ll try his best to make it. In any event, I’m really looking forward to coming home. It’s been ages and this is exactly what I need right now.’
Was it just her, or had her sister cunningly changed the subject?
‘I’ll see you in a few months, all right?’ Tash added.
‘Er … all right,’ Phoebe responded, still trying to process her sister’s words.
‘Bye, Phee.’
‘Tash –’ But the dial tone was already beeping at her.
Phoebe stared at her phone for a long time. Something is off.
‘Expecting a call?’ Spider asked as he walked into the room and placed a box on the coffee table.
‘No,’ Phoebe shook her head, ‘just finished one. What’s that?’
‘I don’t know,’ he shrugged, dropping his body on the couch beside her. ‘Your mum dropped it off while you were at school. She said you’d understand.’