The lump moves, hard and fast, a limb protruding out for a second and just as quickly, disappearing again.
‘She’s kicking!’ I can’t contain my excitement. I study where the lump moved. ‘Does that hurt?’
‘Not at all.’
‘That’s amazing!’
‘It is, isn’t it?’ Abbie’s smiling at me with tears pooling in her green eyes and my heart instantly leaps. I stand up and pull her into my embrace. No words are needed. Just infinite love.
Just us.
Chapter 19
‘It’s the next left,’ Abbie says, holding the street map and sitting forward for a better view of the tree-laden street. Maples line both sides and I drive slowly, weaving around the parked cars.
‘It’s a pretty snobby area – I wasn’t expecting Jed to have a place here.’
‘Mmmm, you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover,’ she replies playfully.
I’m reminded of our first night together – on Sarah’s lounge room floor. Laying side by side, holding hands and just getting to know each other a little. I tried to be so cool, but she saw straight through my bad-boy guise.
I reach out and take her hand in mine. ‘Touché,’ I let out a chuckle and glance at her. She’s positively glowing with happiness. ‘I’m glad you didn’t judge me by my cover.’
‘Oh, I did. You looked pretty hot up there on the stage,’ she laughs.
‘Hot? As in sweaty, or downright fine?’
‘Both.’ She looks out through the window and checks the map again. ‘We’re here! Number twelve.’ She sits up further and I take a deep breath, pulling into the driveway of an old-fashioned house, characteristic of the area.
It was probably built in the early eighteen hundreds. Definitely not what I’d expect Jed to live in. Limestone brick, lush gardens and lace curtains at the windows.
I lean over and check the piece of paper Abbie has lying flat on the open street directory. ‘Are you sure?’
‘Yes, twelve Duncan Place, South Perth,’ she replies.
‘Okay. Let’s go then.’ I turn the ignition off and get out, rushing around to help Abbie out of the car. She twists around, placing both feet on the ground and takes an audible breath.
‘I’m so happy,’ she declares.
My reaction is a smile. ‘I’m happy too.’ I help her up and pull her close, reflecting on how far we’ve come so far; we’ve tackled some pretty huge obstacles.
A familiar voice shouts from the front door. ‘Abbie! Valentine!’ We both look over as Jed comes striding down the driveway. He looks like one of those guys from a music video – tight leather pants, tight t-shirt hugging his ripped chest and shoulders, dreadies pulled back from his handsome face and a feather earring hanging from his left ear. His appearance is in stark contrast to the pretty English cottage he’s just appeared from.
‘Hi Jed,’ I say, reaching out to shake hands as he comes up beside me.
‘Hey, Valentine.’ He squeezes my hand firmly placing his other hand over our grasp with added affection. ‘Are you alright?’ he looks to Abbie with concern.
‘Of course. It’s just a little hard getting out of the car these days,’ she smiles at him and pats her baby bump.
‘Oh! Yeah, wow, you’ve got so…’ He clearly isn’t sure how to finish the sentence.
‘Big?’ I offer.
He laughs. ‘Um, yeah, big.’
Abbie leans over and they hug. ‘I’m not finished yet.’
‘Oh, well, let’s get you inside then.’
Making our way through the French doors into the living room, we’re greeted by Zane. He looks great. No bandages, no cast and wearing jeans with a peach polo shirt – angelic is the word that comes to mind.
‘Hey,’ he says simply, looking straight at Abbie with a wide grin.
She lets go of my hand and rushes to him with open arms. ‘You look so much better!’ she says. I think she’s holding back a sob.
‘I am. And now feeling much better, now that you’re here.’ He closes his eyes and takes a deep, audible breath. I can tell he’s breathing in her perfume and a small pang of jealousy erupts in my gut.
‘Valentine,’ he says, opening his eyes and regarding me. ‘Thanks for coming.’ He releases Abbie and walks toward me with a hand out.
The pang of jealousy subsides and I shake hands with him. ‘You look great.’
‘Thanks, I’ve been taken good care of – plus I’ve had the darn therapists here every other day.’
‘Well, they’re doing a good job,’ I reply.
Jed moves over to my side and says, ‘Come in and I’ll get everyone a drink? Non-alcoholic, of course.’
It all feels a little formal and I guess everyone’s a little nervous. It’s a very different setting to the hospital and we’ve all been through the wringer.
But as the night wears on and we sit around the table finishing our meal, the conversation goes from baby names to something much more personal.
‘I wish you’d come,’ I hear Abbie say to Zane.
‘I wish I could, too,’ he says, looking down at his crème caramel and twisting his spoon through his fingers. ‘If it wasn’t at that church, I’d consider it – for Patrick’s sake.’
Abbie sighs. ‘Have you heard from your parents?’
‘No. And to be honest, I don’t expect to. I’ve disappointed them beyond measure.’
These words make me angry. ‘I think they’ve disappointed you beyond measure.’ I stop abruptly, realizing what I’ve said and everyone is looking at me. Shit, was that out of line?
‘I agree,’ Jed says.
Abbie squeezes my hand and adds, ‘Yes, I think that’s a silly notion, Zane. You’re their son. Gosh, I couldn’t imagine shunning my child the way they have with you.’ She leans over and takes his hand in her other one and we’re all joined, except Jed and I – which isn’t happening.
‘Thanks guys, but I think they really can’t cope with having a homosexual son. It’s an embarrassment for them – especially at church.’
‘Why? Because the bible says it’s wrong?’ I question.
‘Well, yeah, I guess so,’ Zane replies.
‘And who wrote the bible?’ I ask. I think it’s a fair question.
‘Not God,’ Jed states.
‘It was written by man,’ Abbie says, as she regards Zane closely. ‘It was written by a bunch of men, swapping stories of what they’d been told – and we all know how much the truth is distorted when a story is told too many times.’
I look at her in surprise. ‘Do I hear a touch of disbelief in your voice?’
‘Yes, maybe. I just think that God, Jesus, Mary – any one of them wouldn’t approve of Zane being outcast from his family or church – that’s not what God is all about.’
‘You’re right, Abbie,’ Jed agrees, topping up everyone’s glasses with chilled water. ‘Is anyone up for a hot drink?’
‘I’d love a cup of hot chocolate,’ Abbie says.
‘I’ll have a tea please, babe,’ Zane adds, offering Jed a warm smile.
‘Not for me, mate, I’m happy with the water,’ I reply.
‘No worries.’ Jed leaves the room and we all go back to our discussion of religion. I’ve heard it’s not a great dinner table topic – but it seems we all agree on one thing; the bible is seriously flawed.
‘So, basically you can’t come to your best friend’s wedding because the church doesn’t approve of your relationship with Jed – which is none of their business in the first place?’ I ask.
‘Yeah, that’s about the size of it.’ Zane sits back in his chair and runs his fingers through his hair. Geez, he’s a good looking fellow. And a nice kid too.
‘Would you go if it was at another church?’
He regards me for a minute, thinking. ‘Probably, but my parents will still be there.’
‘So, Patrick invited your parents?’
‘He invited our family, and I chose not to go,’ Zane replies softly. He’s clearly dis
appointed.
Abbie pushes out her chair and stands up, moving closer to Zane and putting her arm around his shoulders. ‘Stand up,’ she says.
He looks up at her quizzically, but does as she’s asked.
‘Do you remember our last conversation, before you were attacked?’
‘Yes,’ he says quietly.
‘Good. Now, you, Mr. Williams are a wonderful man. I will not sit by and watch people tread on you. I want you to come to the wedding and hold your head up high. We are going to show that pathetic church just how love should be – and we’re going to dance.’
I’m gobsmacked. Where does this girl get her strength? Her passion? Her bossiness?
Zane gazes into her eyes, obviously just as shocked as I am. ‘I can’t.’
Fire erupts in Abbie’s eyes. ‘Yes you can!’
And in walks Jed. A tray of drinks in his hands, and a look of surprise on his face. He gives me a questioning stare and I just shrug my shoulders. I’m not interfering. Abbie is scary when she’s angry and passionate all at the same time.
‘What about Jed?’ Zane looks defeated, but tries for one last argument.
‘Jed will be by your side, as will I.’ She doesn’t break her fierce glare at Zane.
‘Where will I be?’ Jed asks mildly, placing the tray down on the table.
I glance at him and say, ‘Patrick’s wedding,’ hoping he just agrees. I’m not sure I want to be in the room with Abbie if he doesn’t.
And he does. He walks across to Zane and places his hand on his shoulder. ‘I’ll be wherever you are, Church Boy.’
∞~∞~∞~∞
Abbie kicks off her shoes and walks over to the wardrobe, shrugging off her cardigan and slipping her dress down over her baby bump.
I watch her intensely. ‘I think Zane is scared of you,’ I suggest with a laugh.
‘Good, he should be,’ she jokes, sliding off her stockings and tossing them at me. I catch them and grin at her.
I wonder about the conversation she referred to when she talked Zane into coming to the wedding. I want to ask her, but I quickly remind myself that some things are better left unsaid – I never told her about my one-night-stand with Donna; not worth upsetting her. ‘Wanna show me some more of that feisty redheaded attitude in bed?’
She gives me a smile, but follows up with a shake of her head, one that suggests I’d have better luck wrangling a bull. I take the hint and act out a mock knife stabbing me in the heart.
Abbie laughs. ‘Oh, really, you’re so—’ Her face contorts with pain and she sits down suddenly, crossing her legs and holding her baby bump.
Shit! ‘Abbie, what’s wrong?’ I bound across the room and kneel beside her.
‘Nothing,’ she pants, ‘just… fake contract… contractions,’ she adds between panting breaths. ‘I just need to sit down for a moment,’ she says, trying to sound casual.
‘Um, okay, what can I do?’
‘Just hold my hand for now.’ She locks eyes with me and offers me a reassuring smile. I don’t know how she can smile if she’s in pain.
‘Are you sure? Can I put you on the bed?’ I feel totally, completely useless.
She puts her hand up to my face and says, ‘They’re settling down now, and yes, I’d love some help getting into bed.’
I lift her without a second thought and carry her to our bed, placing her down gently. ‘Are you okay?’
‘Yes.’ Her eyes sparkle back at me, but I can see how exhausted she is. It’s been a long night and with the clock nearing midnight, I think she needs to sleep.
‘Would you like some water?’
‘No, thanks.’ She snuggles under the quilt and closes her eyes, releasing a little sigh.
I’m suddenly overwhelmed by what just happened. Fake contractions? Are those even a thing? God, I hope she’s okay.
Kissing her lips gently I whisper, ‘I need to grab some water.’
There’s a slight moan from her, but little else, so I head out to the kitchen. On passing the lounge room, I see the baby book Abbie’s had her head buried in for the past few days and pick it up. It’s thick. I pull back the cover, fanning the pages and decide to take it to the kitchen table. Maybe there’s stuff in here that Abbie hasn’t told me? Maybe I’ll learn how to support her better?
I pour a glass of water and take a seat at the dining table, flicking through the pages. I have no idea what I’m looking for. Fake contractions… preecampthing… I don’t know. Then I see the words, Braxton Hicks and the strange name draws my attention in. Contractions that happen as a kind of dress rehearsal for the big day. The uterus muscles preparing to push the baby out into the big wide world, and whilst your baby isn’t quite ready to arrive at the six months’ mark, it’s common for the mother’s body to start practicing. Breathe and visualise your labour technique; get on all fours if this helps. The Braxton Hicks contractions should only last from thirty to seventy seconds.
I gulp down the water, take a deep breath and hope I can hold it together when this baby arrives. And next weekend is Izzy’s wedding – Abbie isn’t going to rest much at all.
Tomorrow Tyler and I meet the selling agent at the house and go with Sam and Robert to organise our suits – okay, now I start to realise that I’ve left a lot to the last minute and feel a little anxious that I’m not going to get everything done.
Chapter 20
Izzy’s wedding day is here and while I drop Abbie over to join the girls in preparing for the big event, Sam joins me.
‘Thanks for saving me, man,’ he grins, pulling on his seatbelt. ‘I was worried they’d start practicing make-up on me again.’
‘Again?’ I glance at him, returning a smirk.
‘Childhood trauma – I’ve considered seeing a shrink for it.’
My heart jolts a little, but I regain my composure – Sam doesn’t know about my shrink and why I’d need one. And now isn’t the time to share.
‘Ah, the perks of having three sisters!’ I reply lightly.
‘Yeah, well I’m sure I’ll have some good defence tactics to share with Tyler once his little sister starts chasing him around with a lipstick.’
We laugh together and I settle into the drive over to collect Tyler. It’s going to be a good day.
When we pull up at Jacquie’s, she’s waiting on the front step of her verandah with an arm around Tyler. I notice that her straight blonde hair is now extremely curly and longer than the last time I saw her, but I don’t look at her for long; she never looks happy to see me.
I sigh. ‘Just what I need.’
Sam throws me a questioning glance and looks back at Jacquie as she makes her way down the steps. ‘Is that not a good thing?’
‘Oh, she’s probably just going to read me my rights – no drinking, no smoking, no this, no that.’
‘Oh, the perks of having an ex, I guess?’
‘Something like that,’ I offer him a faint smile.
‘Dad! Sam!’ Tyler shouts, leaping from the verandah and running toward us.
‘Hey, champ.’ I wave out of my window and watch him run directly to Sam’s side of the car. Sam has already got his door open and seatbelt off as Tyler catapults into him for a hug.
‘I didn’t know you were coming, Sam!’ Tyler says with excitement.
‘Yeah, well, I had to escape the assault of lipstick and hairspray.’
Tyler laughs as though he knows exactly what Sam is talking about and climbs into the back seat.
‘Hi, Valentine,’ Jacquie says, glancing at me and then Sam, apparently waiting for an introduction.
‘Hi, err, this is Abbie’s brother, Sam. Sam this is Tyler’s mum, Jacquie.’
Sam replies with a ‘Hi,’ and Jacquie returns the same. I just want to reverse the car out of the driveway and get out of here.
‘So, You’ll have Tyler back tomorrow after lunch?’ She directs her question at me with a tight glare.
‘Yeah, about 3pm. And no I don’t smoke, do drugs, drink alcohol or d
rive recklessly. I promise I won’t take my eyes off him.’ I gesture a salute and she just frowns at me.
‘Fine,’ she replies, leaning into my window to see Tyler. ‘Honey, I’ll see you tomorrow – have a great time.’ She blows him a kiss and turns away.
‘Okay, let’s get this show on the road,’ I say, turning to glance at Tyler and Sam – we’re all grinning as though we’ve been let out on parole for the day.
‘Suits first?’ I add.
‘Yep, and then ice-cream!’ Tyler shouts from the back seat.
∞~∞~∞~∞
We arrive at the church, check our bow ties, throw on our jackets and head inside. Patrick is standing at the alter with his groomsmen, looking as though he might throw up at any moment. I spot a familiar face.
Zane.
He puts his hand up in a half-wave and offers me a forced grin. He looks extremely uncomfortable, but I’m thrilled to see he came. And to be standing with Patrick, as his Best Man is something I never expected. I wonder if Abbie knows her lecture worked; she didn’t mention anything this morning, so she probably has no idea.
I look to the front few seats, where we’re meant to be seated and I see Jed. Grey suit, dreadies tied back, no earrings and clean-shaven – he looks good. He’s watching Zane and as we move in beside him he turns to us with a smile.
‘Hey, guys,’ he says quietly.
‘Hey,’ I reply, shaking hands with him and pulling Tyler over to stand closer. ‘This is my son, Tyler. Tyler, this is Jed.’
Tyler is gazing up at him in awe. ‘You look so cool!’ he says.
Jed lets out a short laugh and says, ‘So do you.’
Sam reaches over and shakes hands with Jed and we all take a seat. Time to wait for the bride and her entourage.
After a few minutes more of chattering amongst the guests, I notice Patrick’s face morph from looking somewhat ill, to being filled with anticipation. I follow his gaze, as does everyone else, to the back of the church.
A slight murmur washes through the sea of guests and the doors open just enough for Gail to squeeze through. There’s a lull in the voices as she steps into the church and makes her way up the aisle, smiling and greeting people on either side.
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