“How do I get in touch with the minister?”
Marlene’s eyes narrowed into tiny splits. “He lives in the manse right next door to the church. I’m sure you will remember where that is,” she said pointedly. “Although I don’t recall you ever stepping foot through the front doors of a church once in your entire life.”
“We weren’t very religious.”
“Hmph,” Marlene said. “Well, some things have changed.”
Mackenzie raised her eyebrows. What did she mean?
“Don’t worry about the dog. I’ll contact John and make sure he’s happy to hang onto it for a bit longer.”
Marlene flounced off, leaving Mackenzie filled with guilt. Was she doing anything right?
Later that night, after Mackenzie had eaten the lamb casserole – which she was loath to admit tasted amazing – she knew she couldn’t put it off any longer. She’d done as much as she could around the house and she needed to head back to Dubbo. It was time to have another meeting with her sisters. They needed to make a decision about the future. And Mackenzie needed to talk to her father about the past. It couldn’t wait any longer.
*
For the next two hours Mackenzie drove on autopilot, her mind revolving like a child’s spinning top. She had so many questions. If her father refused to answer them, she didn’t know what she would do. The closer she got to Dubbo the more wound up she became. Hindsight was such a good thing. If she hadn’t run away all those years ago, she wouldn’t be in this predicament now.
When she arrived at the rehabilitation hospital she barreled down the hallway to her father’s room, her footsteps ringing out in the quiet hallways. She pushed open the door to his room and found him sitting half upright but asleep. The blinds were drawn and the room was semi-dark, but the television was on and the screen glowed, making his face appear ghostly. She’d expected to find at least one of her sisters sitting with him, keeping him company. She looked at her watch and frowned. No wonder no one was there with him – it was almost eleven o’clock.
At the sound of her entry, her father woke, struggling beneath the sheets as he attempted to sit up. She went over and helped prop him up on pillows. His dentures lay in a plastic container beside his bed and she pulled off the lid before handing the container to her father. He pulled the teeth from the water and she had to control her desire to take them from him and put them in his mouth herself. He was so slow and doddering. Eventually, he got his teeth in and gazed at her with a questioning look. So far neither of them had said a word. She muted the television and put the remote control back on the bedside table with a clatter.
“I know it’s late, Dad, but we need to talk.” If she didn’t come right out and ask now, she’d chicken out. “Who is my real father?”
She might have imagined it, but she was certain a shadow passed across his face as he tried to focus on her eyes. He dragged his good hand across his jaw, the silence so heavy she heard the scratching of skin against an overnight beard.
When he didn’t answer, Mackenzie pressed on. “I know it’s not you.”
“Don’t be silly, Mackenzie,” he said, slurring his words ever so slightly, one side of his mouth still turned down – an after-effect of the stroke. “You’ve always had this stupid idea in your head that because you don’t look the same as your sisters, you were adopted or something.” It was the most she’d heard him say since the stroke.
Mackenzie’s pulse thumped. Exactly what she’d grown up thinking, but the letter from her mum suggested otherwise. She needed answers, and she needed them now.
“I want to know the truth,” she said quietly.
Her father let out a loud sigh. His shoulders slumped and he shifted in the bed. Mackenzie stepped from behind the chair she’d used as a barricade and sat down. She took a moment to look at him and experienced a twinge of regret. Now she’d opened this can of worms, there would be no closing of the lid.
“I know you’re not my father,” she repeated.
“Yes I am.”
“You’re not my biological father.”
She saw his Adam’s apple rise and fall.
“How did you find out?”
“I found the letters.” He closed his eyes but Mackenzie continued talking. “I’ve worked it out, haven’t I? Mum was already pregnant when she met you.” He shook his head, as though to disagree, but Mackenzie ignored him. “She was pregnant when you got married – that’s why you had such a fast engagement. But you weren’t my father. That’s right, isn’t it? That’s why I was so big when I was born. I wasn’t a premature baby at all. I was full term. No wonder I don’t look like you or my sisters.” She took a big breath and looked at him again. “All I want to know is why?” The last word came out sounding strangled.
Her father exhaled heavily. “Your mother and I made an agreement to never tell you. We told no one. Not even my parents. You were my daughter and I loved you.”
“You never loved me! You could hardly bear the sight of me once Cameron was born.”
Tears pooled in her father’s eyes, hitting Mackenzie with remorse. Knowing the truth, changed nothing. Absolutely nothing. She sank deeper into the chair.
“It wasn’t like that at all, Mack. I loved your mother dearly and I loved you as though you were my own flesh and blood.”
“You sent me away to boarding school!”
“That’s because there was no other option. Willandara doesn’t have a high school.”
“Mum could have home schooled me.”
He sighed. “Yes, she probably could have, but we thought by sending you away we were giving you the best education and the best opportunities.”
“But I missed out on so much. I hardly know my sisters because I only ever saw them during school holidays.”
“I’m sorry, Mackenzie, maybe it wasn’t the right decision after all.”
“So what changed?” she asked.
He frowned. “What do you mean?”
“You said you loved me. But after Mum died it was like you couldn’t stand the sight of me anymore.”
“Oh Mackenzie, after your mum died, I changed. Left alone with six daughters to raise, I couldn’t cope without her. I didn’t know how to look after you all.”
“But you blamed me for Mum’s death.”
He looked stunned. “No, Mack, I didn’t blame you.”
“But I heard you. You told me I should have helped save her.”
A tear trailed slowly down his cheek. “Those were bitter words of a desperate man. I’d just lost my wife. My son. And then I lost you too.”
Mackenzie shook her head, struggling for clarity. “But every time I saw you again, it was as though you never wanted to have anything to do with me. Or the others. I saw you at their weddings. You couldn’t wait for them to be married and off your hands. Out of your life.”
“You saw things the way you wanted to see them, Mackenzie. Yes, I wanted you all to be married. Not so you’d be off my hands, but so each of you would find the type of love I found with your mum. I wanted you to be happy. To experience the joy of bringing your own children into the world, just as I had.”
Mackenzie was stunned. Why had she never seen it that way before? Her mouth opened and closed but no words came. She swallowed and moistened her lips with her tongue. Had she gotten things completely wrong all these years?
“But what about at Bailey’s wedding? You told me that day I’d never get married because I’d been a bridesmaid too many times.”
He looked at his hands lying on top of the covers and then back at her, his eyes moist. “I’m so sorry, Mackenzie. After I’d said those words, I realized my joke had fallen flat. Please understand, I was only teasing you. I wished I could have taken the words straight back, but by the time I went to find you and apologize, you’d already gone. I’ve never regretted anything so much in all my life.”
“You could have called me.” She sounded like a whining child, on the verge of tears herself. Years of past hurts b
ubbled to the surface, desperate to come out.
“I should have, I know, but my pride stopped me.”
“And you never came to visit me in Sydney. Not even once. You never even came to my graduation.”
“I know. I should have. And I’m sorry.” Tears flooded his eyes and he looked away. “Will you forgive me please, Mackenzie?” For the first time since the stroke there was a piercing vibrancy in his eyes and his speech was no longer slurred.
Mackenzie’s mind stilled as the words she’d longed to hear for so many years filtered through her suit of armor and found their mark in the center of her broken heart.
“Yes, I forgive you, Dad. If only you’ll forgive me for not being the daughter I should have been.”
He nodded and smiled, one side of his face refusing to pull upward. “Of course you’re forgiven.”
When he leaned forward and drew her into his arms, she collapsed on the single bed beside him. She sank crookedly, one hip on the mattress with her leg tucked beneath her, the other foot still on the floor. Leaning into his open arms, she laid her head on his chest and felt the steady beating of his heart against her cheek.
“I love you, Mackenzie.”
“I love you too, Dad.”
Chapter 26
Shortly after midnight, not long after Mackenzie said good night, Bill Jones passed away. The nurses found him slumped in his bed, hours later, with a peaceful smile on his face.
Now, Mackenzie sat alone in Cameron’s kitchen, filled with shock, waiting for the others to gather. She wiped away a stray tear. Death shouldn’t happen on sunny days. She stared out the window at the brilliant blue cloudless skies. It was going to be a gorgeous day. The weather reminded her of Iron Ridge and she realized it was the first time she’d missed the place.
Another sad memory flooded back to her. The day of their mum’s funeral. The rain had poured down all morning and by the time the mourners stood at the gravesite, huddled beneath black umbrellas, thick brown mud covered their shoes. Mackenzie had overheard someone remark it was terrible weather for a funeral and she remembered thinking, No, this is perfect weather for a funeral.
Mackenzie ran her tongue over her lips. Should she tell her sisters what she’d discovered? Maybe it would be better to leave things exactly as they were. She’d lived over half her life thinking she wasn’t loved by her father. Now they’d reconciled, literally on his deathbed, should she tell them? Would they even believe her? And if she told them she wasn’t even his blood daughter, what good would that revelation bring? It would most likely divide them even further.
The front door opened and closed and suddenly the other girls surrounded her. There were hugs and tears as everyone spoke at once, comforting one another. No one had expected him to die.
Once everyone had cups of tea and they were settled in the lounge, Mackenzie leaned forward, searching their faces, begging them to understand what she was about to say. She took a deep breath. It was now or never.
“I’m not your real sister.”
Shocked looks intersected and then returned to her.
She hurried on. “Well technically I’m your half sister. Mum was already pregnant when she arrived in Willandara. Dad knew, but they never told anyone. By the time Mum told him she was pregnant, he’d already asked her to marry him.”
There was a cacophony of noise as each of her sisters spoke at once. Mackenzie held up her hand, and then waited until someone broached the first question.
Bailey spoke first. “Is that why you ran away from home after Mum died?”
Mackenzie shook her head. “No. I only found out two days ago.”
“You only just found out?” Taylor’s voice was full of shock, voicing what the others were thinking, judging by the matching looks on their faces.
Mackenzie nodded.
“I guess that’s why you look so different from us,” Taylor said. There was a murmuring of agreement.
“How did you find out?” Jordan asked. “And if you only just found out, why did you leave straight after Mum died?”
Mackenzie didn’t want to answer that question yet. Talking about the day she ran away brought up too many painful memories.
“When I was going through Dad’s things back at the house I found a folder full of letters in Mum’s handwriting. She wrote him a letter every year on their wedding anniversary but in her first letter to him, on the night before their wedding, she thanked him for loving her and the baby – me. She asked him to one day tell me the truth when the time was right.”
Five pairs of stunned eyes stared at her.
“Did Dad know you found out?” Cameron asked.
Mackenzie nodded. “We talked last night.”
Taylor blanched. “The shock could have killed him!”
Mackenzie’s mouth opened but no words came out.
Cameron jumped in. “That’s not fair, Tay, you know that.”
“He—we—I …” Mackenzie stammered.
“I’m sorry, Mack, that came out completely wrong.” Taylor got up out of her seat to hug Mackenzie. “I’m sorry.”
“I told him I was sorry for running away after Mum died and he told me he loved me,” Mackenzie said, tears pricking at her eyelids.
“Of course he loved you. After you left it broke his heart.” Riley shook her head. “I remember, he cried for days.”
“I always thought his heart was broken because of Mum,” Mackenzie said.
“Well of course it was, but you running away at the same time didn’t help. He had to raise us alone,” Cameron said. “We all missed Mum and we all missed you.”
“I’m so sorry.” Mackenzie looked at her feet. How could she ever make up for all the lost years? She only hoped in time they would forgive her as her father had.
“We’re the ones who should be sorry,” Riley said. “We should have made more of an effort over the years. I guess we’ve all made mistakes.”
Tears formed in earnest and cascaded uncontrollably down Mackenzie’s cheeks. The truth was, she wished she had known her father. Wished she had stayed after her mum and Reuben had died. Wished she had been part of her sisters’ lives. Instead, she’d missed so much because of her stupid bitterness.
“I’m so sorry,” she sniffed.
Cameron pulled Mackenzie into a hug. Mackenzie heard movement as each of her sisters got up from their seats and came to her.
Bailey crouched beside Mackenzie’s chair and laid her head on Mackenzie’s lap. “You’ll always be our sister, Mack, and I for one am so glad you’re finally home.”
She had waited years to hear those words.
*
Five days later, Mackenzie, her sisters and their families sat in the stuffy Willandara Anglican church. Between them, they took up the first four pews on either side of the narrow aisle. Their father’s body lay in the dark mahogany coffin in front of them, draped with fresh flowers. After the service he was to be buried alongside their mum and Reuben in the local cemetery in Willandara.
Mackenzie didn’t need to turn around to tell the small chapel was filling fast. Mackenzie heard Marlene Robbins’ voice the moment she arrived and cringed. Thankfully an usher intervened before she walked to the front of the church looking for an available seat closest to the family. Mackenzie breathed a sigh of relief.
Mackenzie sat quietly in the front row, staring at the stained glass windows behind the pulpit as the sound of hushed voices and soft music wrapped around her like a warm blanket. She tried not to cry, yet she a deep sense of loss filled her. She had missed so much – the chance to be a happy family and the chance to know how much her father loved her.
The sun streamed through the glass, painting everyone in rainbow colors. Cameron sat on Mackenzie’s right and Riley on her left. Mackenzie inhaled deeply, catching the heavy fragrance of roses deep in the back of her throat. Which of her sisters had organized the magnificent floral arrangement? She’d never even given a thought to those sorts of details. Cameron had taken over the fun
eral preparations herself, meeting with the minister and funeral director to plan the entire service.
Finally, men like crows in black suits, moved through the chapel. With a small nod from the main usher, the minister began.
“Good afternoon everyone. I welcome you on behalf of Mackenzie, Cameron, Riley, Jordan, Taylor and Bailey.” He looked at Cameron and smiled at her. “I hope I got you all in the right order.”
Cameron nodded and smiled in return and there was a slight titter from the crowd as people shuffled in their seats and relaxed.
“As I was saying, on behalf of the girls and their families, I welcome you all today and thank you for your attendance – especially those of you who have traveled a long distance to share in this day and offer your love and support to the family.”
“Who’s that?” Mackenzie whispered to Riley.
“The new minister. John.”
“What happened to the old one?”
Mackenzie had a vague recollection of an ancient man in robes with gray hair, bushy eyebrows and a terrible problem with body odor. The man in front of her was lucky to be in his mid-forties and in his smart suit, he looked normal – nothing like the old minister.
Riley whispered back, “No idea. This guy has been around for a couple of years I think. Dad started going to church because he liked him.”
The idea of her father going to church surprised Mackenzie. As she’d told Marlene, they were never a religious family. A thought hit her. This must be the man looking after their father’s dog. Mackenzie made a mental note to ask him after the service.
Mackenzie saw Cameron nodding in agreement to something the minister had just said and she refocused her attention on the proceedings. There was a small commotion at the back of the church and a banging of a door as it was caught in the wind, but Mackenzie didn’t turn around. There was shuffling as people moved down the pews to make room for the latecomer.
“Today we gather together to pay tribute to, and give thanks for, the life of William Robert Jones.”
Mackenzie wriggled in her seat, trying to get comfortable. She regretted the tight black dress she was wearing, wishing she’d opted for pants or something more comfortable.
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