“Okay, that sounds positive…Doesn’t it?”
“Oh, Sare, I don’t know any more. I just know that I’m not going to be able to relax until I know where he’s at and what his game is.”
Sarah nodded. “That’s completely understandable. Tuesday, huh? Do you want me to come with you?”
Jean shook her head. “I should be all right. It’s just a meeting on where things are at. If it’s anything like some of the others, it won’t take long. Thanks, though. I’ll call you after and let you know what they say.”
“Okay. Well, let me know if you change your mind.”
“Will do. Thanks. So, what about you?”
“What about me?”
“Have you seen fireman Mac Mouse again? Oh, hang on, there was a coffee date wasn’t there? How did that go?”
Sarah suddenly found the bench top fascinating and was tracing an imaginary pattern on it. “A bit of a balls-up really. We agreed to meet after inspections, only things got busy at work and it didn’t go quite to plan.”
“Oh?”
“We had a little girl in, with convulsions that we struggled to get under control. It was a tough case for everyone. The convulsions lasted so long, we were all worried about brain damage. Anyway, Mac hung around. While I went upstairs to the paeds unit, Mac ordered in coffee and snacks for the team. She could see they were all a bit on edge.”
“Wow.”
“I know. We did manage a brief coffee afterwards, but I was too tired.” Sarah finished the sentence with a shrug.
Jean pursed her lips and nodded. “I see. Not quite like you planned then?”
Sarah half smirked. “Not quite. But it wasn’t so bad. We caught up and had lunch the next day.”
“Oh, well that sounds better.”
Sarah nodded. “Yeah, it was nice. I asked her how long she had been signing. It turns out her brother was born deaf, which is how she and her family learned to sign.”
Jean’s eyebrows rose in surprise.
As Sarah explained about the accident, Jean’s hand went to her mouth in fearful anticipation of what Sarah was going to say next. Sarah nodded. “Her brother was killed.”
“Oh my God, that’s terrible.”
“I know. I can’t imagine it myself. I don’t know what I would do if I lost you or Thomas. The thought just makes me sick.”
Jean just kept shaking her head in disbelief.
“But Mac said meeting Thomas and signing again was a good thing. It was sort of healing for her, in a way.”
“That’s amazing.”
“Isn’t it just. We talked about other general stuff, and then she invited me over to dinner tonight, with Maree and Terri, at her house.”
“Dinner? Then you had best go and get Thomas so we can have some lunch because you are going to need to go home and have a beauty sleep before you go out tonight.”
*
After a busy morning, Mac carried in the last of the bags of shopping and safely unpacked the basket of goodies from Martha’s. Mac smiled. Martha had known Mac hadn’t had people over for dinner in quite some time and was determined to find out just what had triggered the change.
“Are you going to share, Mackenzie James, or am I going to have to drag it out of you?”
“I don’t know Sarah very well, but when I’m with her, the world tips upside down. I can’t speak half the time. My heart feels like it’s either going to explode, or it wants to stop. It’s hard to breathe. I feel drawn to her, but when I’m with her, I feel…”
“Frightened?”
Mac nodded silently as her eyes filled with tears.
Martha handed her a tissue from her apron pocket, then reached over and took Mac’s hands in hers. “For a long time, after my Leonard died, I shut up shop inside. Oh, I still went about with the day-to-day things and looking after the children, but my heart was broken. It took me a time to learn to love life again and to get back into the art of living. Your heart does heal in time. You carry the scars of those wounds, but life goes on, Mac.” Martha’s thumbs caressed the backs of Mac’s hands. “You’ve been curled up tight like a flower bud for long enough, child. The time has come for you to open up again, to feel, to flower, to blossom.”
Unable to be held in check any longer, the tears spilled over and coursed down her cheeks. “I feel like a train speeding out of control. My emotions are all over the place.” Mac’s throat was closed up. She shook her head and whispered, “I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“You’re starting to live again. To feel again. You need the tears to wash away the glue that’s been holding you together so tightly. It will settle down in time. Dinner is a good place to start. Talk to her. Let her know how you’re feeling, and why you’re feeling it.”
Mac was an intensely private person. She wasn’t sure that she could open herself up just like that.
“If Maree and Terri think she’s all right enough to ask for dinner, then she must be okay. But she needs to know why you feel the way that you do and that you need to go one step at a time.” Martha leaned over and lifted Mac’s chin with her hand and made sure their eyes met. “If you don’t tell her, Mac, then she might think she’s done something wrong. Just talk to her, and see where it goes from there. Okay?”
Carefully placing the instructions Martha had given her, she set about organizing plates and cutlery and putting fresh flowers on the table. Flipping through her music collection, she chose some albums and loaded them into the player, before setting the fireplace in readiness to light later on, if needed.
Blowing out a nervous breath, there was nothing else left to do but wait. Mac walked distractedly around the house, mulling over what Martha had said earlier. It was good advice. All she needed was to be brave enough to try. The more she thought about it, the more nervous she got, wondering what in the hell she was doing. Mac needed focus. The shed. She quickly changed and went out to the workshop.
The block on the bench now had some shape to it, but the next phase required more detailed attention to achieve the finer definitions. Mac sat on the stool and looked at the block, turning it around. She went to the back cupboard, opened the doors to reveal a sound system, and looked for an album. She needed something she could lose herself in, but not melancholic. It needed to be bright, but not distracting, to have light and shade. She flicked through the album choices and found a P!nk album. Perfect. She put it on just loud enough to fill the silence in the room, which helped her to stop thinking too much about anything other than the job at hand. Mac walked back over to the bench, sat down on the stool, grabbed her carving tools, and set to work.
Chapter Fourteen
Sarah had managed a brief nap not long after she had gotten home. After grabbing a coffee and shower to brighten herself up, she now found herself standing in her room, wondering what on earth to wear to dinner. Mac had said the night would be relaxed and nothing fancy. Sarah felt far from relaxed. In fact, she felt positively giddy, like a teenager going out on a first date. She tried on several different combinations, finally deciding on a pair of black jeans with a white singlet top under a silky burgundy blouse. To top it off she wore her favourite black suede boots.
She turned and looked at the small mountain of discarded clothes on the bed before shifting her gaze to look at the clock. It was only five o’clock. She drummed her fingers against her thighs—she was too early. To pass the time, she picked up the clothes that she’d thrown on the bed and hung them back up, but that only killed ten minutes.
Sarah remembered she hadn’t picked up any wine, so grabbing her keys, she headed out the door, happy to have something positive to do. Making herself go slowly, row by row, looking intently at all the bottles of white, time still dragged. She selected two Semillon Sauvignons that would hopefully complement the dinner and sighed, realizing it was only half-past five. She decided she couldn’t wait any longer and planned to justify her early arrival with the guise of offering to help get dinner ready.
She found M
ac’s place easily enough on the outskirts of town down a side road. As she pulled in, she was impressed at the simple elegance of the tree-lined driveway which effectively tucked the house away in a nestle of trees.
Sarah parked the car, then traversed the gravel drive to knock on Mac’s front door. There was no answer. Looking around she saw that Mac’s truck was in the driveway next to her car. Sarah wondered where Mac was, so close to dinner. She was about knock on the door again when she heard the soft beat of music coming from behind the house. Following the music, she made her way around the side of the house and out to the backyard. Behind the house there was a second wooden building with shuttered windows and a set of sizeable barn doors. That’s where the music was coming from.
Tentatively Sarah approached. She could make out a figure behind the window sitting at a table or bench of some kind, leaning over something. Sarah went to the barn door to knock. The door wasn’t shut, so as she knocked, it pushed open. Inside Sarah could see a workshop. Tools were beautifully arranged and organized on walls or on purpose-built shelves along benches. The place was light, open, and airy, with rich deep-red beams and rafters adorning the ceiling, adding to the workshop’s warmth and charm. Sarah could see the open cupboard at the back of the room where the music was coming from. She smiled at Mac’s choice of P!nk. She had the same album in her car.
Her eyes swung back to Mac bent over the bench top, so intent on what she was doing, she hadn’t yet noticed her. It gave Sarah a chance to study her. She had a slight frown on her face and was nibbling on the corner of her bottom lip, deep in concentration as her hands moved in slight up and down motions over the piece she was working on. Sarah now understood where Mac’s unique scent came from—there were elements of it in the workshop. A hint of cedar, a smattering of pine and cypress, and something else Sarah couldn’t quite put her finger on. Mac had a sweetness, in addition to the spice of the wood, and it set Sarah’s blood to race. Sarah found it positively intoxicating and heady. There was a break in songs and Sarah cleared her throat to get Mac’s attention.
Mac heard the noise and froze. She turned slowly and saw Sarah standing there.
Sarah waved. “Hi. Sorry, I’m a bit early.” Mac looked completely spun out. Shit! I’ve completely freaked her out. “I tried knocking on the front door and there was no answer. I heard music coming from out the back and I followed it to here. I hope that’s okay.” What was I thinking, coming early? This is all wrong. I should go.
Mac closed her mouth. Sarah was here. She had obviously gotten carried away and forgotten the time and how late it was getting. Now Sarah was in her shed. No one had ever seen her shed. And here was Sarah, standing in the middle of it. For a brief second Mac was too shocked to move. Looking at Sarah’s face, it looked for all the world to Mac like Sarah was beginning to spin out too. Mac realized her silence was starting to freak Sarah out. She needed to get herself together before Sarah hightailed it out of there. Martha’s words echoed in Mac’s brain If you don’t tell her, Mac, then she might think she has done something wrong. Mac took a deep breath. “Hi, Sarah. Sorry, I didn’t hear you come in.”
Sarah still didn’t look very confident. “You looked like you were pretty focused on something.”
“Yeah, I get like that when I’m in here sometimes.”
Sarah smiled tentatively.
Mac took a deep breath. “I was a bit thrown because no one has ever been in here before, so I was a bit shocked when I heard you. Sorry if I freaked you out.”
Sarah’s eyebrows rose. She looked around the workshop, then looked back at Mac and pointed a finger at her own chest. “You mean, no one has seen this place? I’m the first one?”
“Uh-huh, the very first.”
“Wow, and I barged right in. No wonder you looked startled. I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be. It’s okay.” And strangely, Mac realized, it was okay. “This is my inner sanctum, of sorts. Although I’m working full-time this month, I usually only work part-time at the station. I sometimes supplement my income with other things, like sculpting.”
Sarah was shaking her head. “Sculpting?”
“Uh-huh. From time to time I get commissions and do some work about the place.”
Sarah looked at the figure on the bench top. “Is that a commission?”
Mac smiled. “No, that’s a gift. Maree and Terri’s five-year anniversary of owning the refuge is coming up. They’ve been great friends over the years, family really, and I wanted to give them something special.”
Sarah stepped forward and had a good look. “It’s a dog!”
Mac nodded.
Sarah looked at the clamp holding the figure. “Can I turn this?”
“Uh-huh.”
Sarah reached out to the clamp and slowly spun it around, having a good look from all sides. “It’s Nell, isn’t it?”
Mac nodded.
Sarah noticed pictures on the wall and walked over to have a look at them. There were pictures of Nell and of kittens. She looked back at the dog again and looked at its posture, then tilted her head on its side.
Mac smiled. She could see the cogs ticking over in Sarah’s mind. “I wondered if you could help me for the next bit.”
Sarah looked at Mac, clearly puzzled. “I’m not sure I would know how.”
Mac brought out a sketch from behind some of the photos on the wall and handed it to Sarah.
Sarah drew in a breath of surprise as she looked from the sketch up to Mac. “This is beautiful. Oh my God, it is really beautiful, Mac.”
The sketch was of a small boy, holding a puppy in his arms, with a kitten winding around his legs. The puppy was Nell and the boy in the sketch was Thomas.
“Thank you.”
Sarah looked at the sketch and then back to the carving of Nell. “How on earth can I possibly help?”
“I was wondering if you had some photos of Thomas that I might be able to borrow. So I can get a better understanding of his face and his expressions.”
Sarah was nodding. “I can do that. Yes, in fact, I would love to do that.”
“That’d be lovely. It would help me a lot. I closed my eyes and tried to remember, but if I can have a couple of photos, that will make it so much easier. So thank you.”
Sarah was still looking at the sketch when Mac happened to glance up at the clock on the wall. It was five to six. “Shit!”
Sarah looked up suddenly alarmed. “What?”
“The time! Oh, crap, I’ve got to put dinner on. Oh, shit-bugger-poo-bum!”
Sarah was laughing. “It’s okay, I’ll give you a hand. Come on, lead me to the kitchen.”
“Hang on.”
Mac spun around, put her tools to one side, turned the stereo off, and grabbed Sarah’s hand. After turning out the lights and locking the door behind them, they ran hand-in-hand in the back door of the house. By the time the pair of them had reached the kitchen they were both laughing and puffing.
Mac went to the fridge and pulled out the pots and put them on the stove. “I need to cook the rice, warm this up on the stove, and then warm the bread.” Mac closed her eyes trying to remember what Martha had told her. The rice would take about twenty minutes. The spicy mix needed to be brought to the boil, being stirred the whole time, and then it could sit on simmer for ten minutes. So the rice would have to go on first. The bread would only take a few minutes in the oven, but she couldn’t remember now what temperature Martha said to do it at.
Sarah reached for Mac as she spun by and held her with still hands on Mac’s waist. “How about I get the rice on and warm the mix, while you go and get changed? By the time you’re out, you can warm the bread up, how’s that sound?”
“Really? You could do that?”
Sarah was laughing again. “Yes, I can cook rice and warm up a pot of dinner.”
“You are an angel. I’ll be quick, I promise.” Mac reached up and kissed Sarah on the lips, turned, and ran down the hall to her room.
Mac raced a
round her bedroom. “You’re an idiot, you’re an idiot, you’re an idiot. What the bloody hell am I going to wear?” What had started off calm and organized was very quickly falling apart. Thank God, Sarah was helping out in the kitchen.
She looked through her wardrobe and tried to figure out what to wear. She thought about how Sarah looked: absolutely fan-bloody-tastic. The burgundy really showed off the warm, rich depths of her eyes and the light-coloured contrasts in her hair. “God, I’m a dick-brain. I didn’t even tell her how lovely she looked.” She looked through her cupboard, pulled out a pair of black tailored pants and a white cotton blouse with three-quarter sleeves. She threw herself in the shower and was out in minutes, dressed, and pulled on some comfy black boots. She smoothed her shirt down a final time and hurried back out to the kitchen.
Walking down the hallway, she could hear Sarah humming. When she turned into the kitchen, Mac saw that Sarah had the rice on the boil and was stirring Martha’s pot of spicy magic, with a glass of wine in the other hand. Mac stopped in the doorway and thought how beautiful Sarah looked. It seemed so natural with Sarah by the stove, humming. It made Mac’s heart ache with unrealized possibilities. Mac slowed her breathing, gathered herself, and walked up to stand behind Sarah. She placed one hand on Sarah’s hip. “How’s it going?”
Sarah turned to face Mac, smiling. “It’s all under control.”
Sincerity rolled off Mac in waves. “Thank you.”
“It’s no problem. I poured you a wine, it’s over there on the bench.”
Mac couldn’t move. She was spellbound by Sarah’s eyes. “I apologize for not saying it earlier, but you look lovely, and thank you for the wine.”
Sarah’s hand came up to tweak Mac’s collar. “You look very sharp yourself, except”—Sarah reached up and pulled something out of Mac’s fringe—“you forgot this.” She held up a wood shaving.
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