Country At Heart

by Mandy Magro

  Dropping the beer in his hand, Dean swore as it hit the floor and shattered, beer splashing everywhere as shards of glass painfully hit his leg. Pulling his mobile phone from his pocket he quickly dialled her number, despair filling him as it rang several times and then went to voicemail. He hung up and dialled again, desperate to talk to her, his anxiety building by the second. Once again it went to voicemail. Summer always had her phone handy, so she was obviously snubbing his calls, and she had every right to, in his eyes. He tried once more, knowing deep down his efforts were useless. He had to find her. Straightaway. Before it was too late. That is, if it wasn’t too late already.

  Ignoring the small beads of blood on his shin from the broken glass, Dean raced back outside to his dad’s, eager to grab his helmet and jacket. Why did something like this have to happen the day before he was meant to leave? And just when Summer had decided to believe in him enough to make sweet, beautiful love to him. What a fool he was, keeping the cheque to show his father – he should have ripped it up in Donald’s face the moment he gave it to him. Hindsight’s a bitch; too bloody late now. Dickhead.

  Clearing the steps two at a time he called to his dad, ‘She’s found the bloody cheque!’

  With the tongs he was holding frozen in midair, a sausage within their grip, Tony turned to Dean, concern furrowing his brows. ‘Oh, for the love of God. Where is she?’

  ‘Gone, I think. I’m going to go find her before this all blows up in my face. I can’t lose her now. Not over this,’ Dean called from inside the house, his words breathless.

  Kimmy frowned, a bowl of homemade potato salad in her hands, looking at Tony and then at the front door as Max vaulted down the front steps to play with Matilda. ‘What in the hell is going on you two? What cheque? And who’s found it? Will someone tell me what’s going on here?’

  Dean reappeared, shrugging on his jacket. ‘I haven’t got time to explain right now, sis. Dad can. I have to go find Summer.’ He brushed a kiss on her cheek as he rushed past her.

  Before Kimmy or Tony could respond, Dean was down the front steps, giving Max’s hair a quick ruffle as he jogged past him to the garage. Within seconds he was on his Ducati, revving it to life, the back end fishtailing as he took off down the driveway. Pulling out of the gate, he headed for Summer’s at top speed, the bike bearing the brunt of his angst. Thank God she only lived a few minutes’ ride away because he knew that every second counted.

  Her heart aching beyond anything she’d ever felt before, Summer ignored yet another phone call from Dean as she stomped up the steps and barged through the front door of the holiday home, her face red and swollen from crying. She stared at her mobile phone, sniffling – seven missed calls from Dean. Her curiosity screamed for her to call him back and she hovered her finger over the call button, but she just couldn’t bring herself to do it. Even though she was dying to know why he had the cheque, she couldn’t talk to him right now, for fear of what he may reveal. This could spell the end for them, when it had only just started.

  The very thought of saying goodbye to Dean forever brought her to her knees. Crushed, Summer buried her face in her hands and wept, her entire body trembling. Damn her interfering father. Why did he use money to get his own way all the time? And why would Dean accept it so easily? An overwhelming need to talk to Fiona and Phillip rushed through her. She had to get to their house before she crumbled into tiny little pieces on the floor. Wiping her eyes on the hem of her dress, she began typing a text to Fiona, letting her know she’d be on her door step in about thirty minutes. Within seconds Fiona texted back, asking if she was okay, followed by three sad faces. Summer replied, her fingers shaking: Not really, I think Dean and I are finished. I’ll be there soon to explain everything.

  Dragging herself up, Summer lumbered towards the spiral staircase, wondering where her parents were, before a handwritten note on the side table caught her eye. She picked it up, finding it hard to read, the words smudging as ceaseless tears rolled down her cheeks and dripped onto the paper, blurring the ink.

  Dear Summer,

  Your father and I have gone to dinner with Astrid and Boris. If you’d like to join us we’ll be at the country club. If not, there are some leftovers in the fridge for dinner.

  Love Mum xx

  Breathing a sigh of relief, she screwed the note up and tossed it back on the table. Even though she’d been ready to face her father, she was somewhat relived he wasn’t home. It would allow her time to pack her bags and get out of here without him, or her mum, trying to stop her. And it was for the best that she had some time to cool off before she confronted him, because at the moment she would definitely say things she’d regret later. ‘You’re nothing like a father to me,’ came to mind.

  Wearily making her way up the stairs with Fonzie sticking close to her side, Summer sucked in a sharp breath and straightened her shoulders. She had to find the strength to stop crying and calm down; it was doing her more harm than good and nothing was going to make sense in this state. Her yoga guru’s kind face floated into her mind’s eye, halting her, his soothing voice so lifelike she could have sworn he was standing right behind her with his steady hand on her shoulder. ‘Dis-ease causes disease, dear girl, let it go before it poisons you. You are stronger than this. Everything happens for a reason, every path has a destination. Trust in fate … and you’ll be okay.’

  Placing her hands over her heart, Summer closed her eyes for the briefest of moments, silently thanking him. In just a year he had taught her so much, and so selflessly, his only aim to give people a better existence on earth and a belief in things other than what could be seen with the human eye. His teachings had enriched her life and given her much more of an understanding of human suffering and illness, most of it caused by stress and people’s reactions to it. One day she hoped she would see her guru again, knowing full well he was at an age where he could pass on to the afterlife at any time.

  Walking into her room, Summer tossed her mobile phone onto the bed, watching absentmindedly as it bounced and then slipped down between the mattress and the wall. ‘Bugger it,’ she huffed, making a mental note to grab it before she left. At least with her phone out of reach there was no way she could be tempted to answer Dean’s calls. Pulling open the curtains she squinted into the setting sun, feeling as though her heart was sinking into the ocean along with the fiery star. She should have been sitting around the barbecue with Dean and his family, beer in hand, having a laugh and enjoying his last day in Edens Edge. But instead here she was, defeated and broken hearted, and all because of bloody money. No wonder she hated it, it only ever caused problems in the long run. Given half a chance she would rather exist in a tent on the beach living off freshly caught fish and coconut juice than in this overstated house with its posh veneer and often over-indulgent foods.

  Dragging her suitcase from beneath her bed, she began haphazardly tossing her clothes and personal belongings into it. She couldn’t wait to be out of here and in her car, driving to Fiona’s and freedom, well away from her father. All he seemed to have done these holidays was cause her grief, and she was over it. And it wasn’t just him: her mother was upsetting her too. Why couldn’t she just be honest about Tony Lockwood? Summer knew damn well there was something her mum wasn’t telling her and the curiosity was beginning to get the better of her. Both her parents had a lot of explaining to do, as did Dean.

  Walking over to her dressing table to gather her things, her heart tightened – the dandelion Dean had picked her the first day she’d met him sat on top of a book. Gently, as if it were made of the frailest of glass, Summer raised the dried flower to her lips and kissed it, deep emotions welling inside her once again. She imagined what it would be like without Dean in her life and suddenly found it hard to breathe, her heart tightening with each awkward breath as her solar plexus – the place where she believed her soul to be – began aching so badly she doubled over. Was this what losing your one true love felt like?

  Skilfully manoeuvri
ng the motorbike up the hill, Dean pulled up at the front gates of the Ocean Song Beach Retreat, dread filling him. What if Summer refused to let him explain? It wasn’t like he could go charging into the house to make her listen when her father was in there. He knew full well that Donald would take great pleasure in stopping him. Switching the Ducati off, he removed his helmet then reached out and pushed the intercom button, holding his breath as he waited for a reply. Please God, let it be Summer who answers. But there was silence. He pushed it again. Waited. Nothing.

  Desperate, he pushed again, this time talking into the speaker, risking the fact that Donald might hear everything.

  ‘Summer, please, if you can hear me, please let me explain. Please, baby, I leave tomorrow and I can’t go back to Afghanistan knowing we have this between us. I’m begging you—’ His voice broke. ‘I love you, Summer.’

  With bated breath he waited, praying to a God he had almost lost all belief in, begging for the almighty power above to somehow get Summer to answer. But there was nothing. She had to be in there. Where else would she have gone? ‘Summer, if you are in there, please let me know. I’m worried about you.’

  The intercom finally crackled to life, stopping his heart in its tracks.

  ‘Yes, Dean, I’m here.’

  His heart jolted back to an erratic rhythm and Dean clutched his chest. ‘Oh, thank God. Are you okay?’

  ‘Not really …’ She began to sob. ‘How could you do such a horrible thing? Please, just leave me alone. I need some time to think. This is all too much for me right now’

  ‘But, Summer, if you’d just let me explain, it would all make perfect sense to you.’

  ‘Not now, Dean, please, just go …’

  The intercom went dead. Utterly defeated, Dean hung his head, his hand still resting on the button. If he rode away he might never get a chance to explain, but if he pushed too hard he might make things even worse. And he couldn’t spill the beans about everything right now, not over the intercom, afraid of prying ears in the house. ‘Okay, I’ll leave you alone, but please, once you’ve had time to calm down, please give me a chance to defend myself before I go back to Afghanistan … I don’t really want to do this over an intercom. I need you to be able to look into my eyes so you know I’m telling the truth.’

  There was no reply.

  Hearing Summer so broken-hearted shattered Dean. All he wanted to do was wrap his arms around her tightly and hold her close, while he told her over and over just how much he loved her. But how could he take her pain away when it had been caused by his foolishness? He continued speaking to her, regardless of her silence, hoping she was listening. ‘I fly out of Cairns at nine-thirty tomorrow morning and I don’t want to leave without sorting this out with you …’ His voice trailed off as he blinked back tears, his heart ripping in two. ‘I don’t know what else to say, other than I love you, Summer Milton, and I would never intentionally do anything to hurt you.’

  Silence was his reply.

  Overcome by utter heartache, Dean pulled his helmet on and gunned his motorbike back to life, turning it around in the driveway with enough force for the back tyre to fleetingly lose traction. Expertly regaining control, he headed down the hill at a fearsome speed, zooming straight past the gates of Whispering Meadows, the landscape around him flashing by in a blur. He couldn’t face his family right now. He needed to go for a ride, let the fresh sea air clear his mind as the two wheels beneath him carried his aching soul towards the last bit of freedom he’d feel for three long months.

  CHAPTER

  16

  Steering the Mini up the winding range of the Hideaway Mountains with Jimmy Barnes and Troy Cassar-Daley’s ‘Bird on a Wire’ floating from the stereo, Summer hummed away to the catchy tune while trying to ignore the aching in her heart, the thought she might never get to kiss Dean again killing her. She tried to sway her attention outwards, the towering jacaranda trees adorning many of the suburban yards catching her attention. It was out of season for the trees to be flowering now, but when they were in bloom it was spectacular. She, Fiona and Phillip used to love rolling around in the blanket of fallen purple flowers when they were kids, laughing until tears rolled down their cheeks. It was such simple amusement. Why did things have to get so damned complicated as adults? Summer was going to try with all her might to rediscover her inner child, to bring the fun and laughter back into her life. She had to. There’d been too much sadness of late and it was destroying her. She needed to rediscover the real her and focus on fulfilling her dreams.

  With her mind wandering and her attention once again being dragged towards Dean and the pain his actions had caused, Summer mentally tugged hard to rein in her thoughts. She didn’t want to think about it, because the more she did, the more obvious everything became. Dean must be considering taking the fifty thousand dollars over her; why else would he have kept the cheque a secret? And a man who would choose money over love, and yet mislead her into thinking he was madly in love with her so she would have sex with him, didn’t deserve a minute of her time. How had she been so wrong about him? She had truly, deeply believed that he was the one, that he would be the man she’d been dreaming of all her life. What a fool she’d been.

  Clearing her mind with gentle breathing, Summer let her train of thought wander back to her days as a child. Unexpectedly, a smile tugged at the corners of her lips, as memories of climbing trees with Fiona, feeding the wild ducks, riding horses, squealing as she slid down a slip and slide or played under a sprinkler and swimming in the local rivers flooded her mind. Innocent outdoor fun, it was the best a kid could have. And Phillip had always been in tow, preferring to hang out with her and Fiona rather than be one of the boys; riding motorbikes, fishing or anything that involved heavy lifting or getting incredibly dirty was not his scene.

  Decelerating, Summer turned into Friendship Lane. She thought it a fitting name for the street she’d be living on with Fiona and Phillip, and for some reason, being here felt a world away from all her problems, even though her parents’ suburban home was less than ten minutes’ drive from here. Maybe it was because this side of Edens Edge was set high up in the mountains, the air a little cooler, and the atmosphere carrying the crisp scent of the surrounding rainforest rather than the saltiness of the ocean.

  Enjoying the fact the top of the mini was down, her senses came alive, the smells, sounds and sights of the rainforest bombarding her as she sucked in a deep breath, enjoying the sensation of fresh air filling her lungs, making sure to exhale gradually before breathing in again. Meditational breathing always refreshed her and helped clear her mind. And contrary to what most people believed, you could do it with your eyes open. Calmness washed over her as she felt her body begin to relax. This change of scenery was exactly what she needed. Her parents weren’t going to be happy when they got home and found the note explaining that she’d moved to Fiona’s, but they’d just have to deal with it. From here on in she was going to live her life how she saw fit, with no more interference from them. Tomorrow she would go and speak with her father about the cheque, and tell him how disappointed she was in him. She knew he was going to have some sort of justification for his actions, and her mother would most probably back him up. That was generally how things worked in her family.

  Alongside her, Fonzie fidgeted on the passenger seat, his front paws up on the windowsill as he sniffed the air madly, his pint-sized tail slapping the seat. Summer gave him a loving ruffle as she slowed and turned into Fiona’s driveway, briefly admiring how painstakingly pristine Phillip kept the gardens around the house. Fiona appeared at the front door almost immediately, her forehead wrinkled with worry. Giving her a quick wave, Summer switched off the ignition and grabbed her handbag, rummaging through it for some chewy. Something was missing. Cursing under her breath she realised she had left her mobile phone where it had landed. Shit! There was no way she was driving back to the house to get it.

  Not wanting to dwell on her forgetfulness, she turned to Fonzi
e. ‘Welcome to our new home, buddy, let’s hope it’s the start of some new beginnings.’ Fonzie leapt over the centre console and into her lap, yapping his reply, and Summer hugged him to her, appreciating the unconditional love and complete trust Fonzie always gave her. If only some people in her life could do the same, her world would be a much better place.

  Sitting down on the brown suede leather couch, Summer wrapped both hands around the hot chocolate Fiona had made her, getting comfortable by pulling a blanket over her bare legs. Thanks to Phillip’s recent visit to Scotland and his newfound fondness for cold climates, the air conditioner was doing its job well and the room was akin to a freezer. Fonzie curled himself up on his bed on the floor, burying himself beneath the crocheted blanket Phillip had put there for him. His belly full of roast dinner, he rested his head on his paws and was asleep in seconds. Phillip flopped down beside her, his six-foot frame taking up almost all the modular couch, his coffee-coloured eyes twinkling as he motioned for her to give him her feet. Summer didn’t need any more of an invitation as she straightened her legs out from under her bum and placed her feet in his lap. Scooping a handful of shea butter from a container, he began to work his magic on her. Summer sighed pleasurably. She felt so very loved and looked after here.

  While Phillip was manipulating her feet into euphoric oblivion, Summer couldn’t help but admire his handsomeness. With his chiselled cheekbones, short-cropped sandy hair, bronzed skin and robust build it was no wonder women drooled over him. And on top of that he was such a genuinely loving guy. If she hadn’t always looked at him as a brother she could have quite easily fallen for him when she was a teenager.

  Switching off the kitchen light, Fiona joined them in the lounge room, lighting the few candles around the room along with some Nag Champa incense, and then popped Enigma in the stereo, creating a relaxing ambience that made Summer feel as though she was sinking further into the couch. Sighing contentedly, Fiona flopped down on Phillip’s pride and joy, a bright red tongue-shaped leather beanbag – his Christmas gift from Justin. Grinning cheekily at Summer, she wriggled her toes out in front of her, trying to stick her big toe up Phillip’s nose, much to his amusement.