Precipice of Doubt

by Mardi Alexander

Jodi opened her mouth to protest.

  “I’m not taking no for an answer.” Cole’s voice was gentle but firm. “You go on up and shower, and by the time you’re out, I’ll have something on the table.”

  Jodi stopped and squinted at her. “Are you bullying me again?”

  Cole crossed the room and chuckled softly in her ear, placing a warm hand in the small of her back. “If that’s what it takes to get you upstairs, then whatever blows your hair back, my friend. Now go.”

  As Jodi climbed the stairs up to the apartment above the clinic, she marvelled at how easily Cole had taken the burden of control off her shoulders, albeit temporarily. She had not only done it all day, but here she was doing it again, so that she could be rested, fed, and ready to be with Roger and Rocky. She had jokingly told Cole she felt bullied, but that was far from the truth. She stopped halfway up the stairs when she realized what she felt. Cared for. Huh. Jodi smiled tentatively, and that smile built as surprise sank in and she continued upstairs.

  Roger nodded when Jodi opened the clinic door a short time later. He clasped the brim of his old sweat-stained Akubra with both hands. His gaze was pained and watery and it seemed his smile was strained.

  “I’m sorry, Roger. I hope you weren’t waiting long.” Jodi swung the door wide.

  “No, no. Just a minute or so, I reckon.” Roger walked past her, his posture more stooped than usual.

  “Would you like a cuppa? I was just about to make one.” Jodi gently patted his shoulder.

  “Yeah, that’d be great, mate. I haven’t been sleeping too well.”

  “I understand perfectly. Worry keeps me up at night too.” Jodi added fresh coffee to the machine.

  Roger nodded. “Not only that, but I miss the little bastard’s snoring. He sleeps next to my head on the pillow, and I’ve kind of gotten used to it. I’m missing him something fierce.”

  “Just like a dripping tap you can’t do anything about and so you get used to it.” Jodi added the water and flipped the on switch. “How about I take you back to see your little man. I’ll bring the coffee in when it’s done brewing.”

  “Righto. He’s doing good, ain’t he?”

  Jodi’s heart fell. She had no real good news to give him. “I had hoped he would be showing some signs of improvement by now, but all things considered, like his age, he seems to be holding his own. I’m hoping a visit from you might perk him up a bit. He still has to stay in the oxygen tent though.” She bit her lip knowing she hadn’t really answered his question.

  When they entered the kennel room, Jodi retrieved a chair for Roger to sit on. “He’s just over there.”

  “Behind all that plastic?” Roger walked over and peered in. “Hey, Rocky,” he said in a gravelly voice. “How’re you doin’, bud?”

  “I’ll be right back. Have a seat. And you can stay as long as you like.” Jodi stuck her fingers in Popcorn’s cage as she walked by and received a quick flick of her tongue.

  The smell of freshly brewed coffee was immediately enticing when she entered the waiting room. She poured two mugs, both black, as she remembered Roger’s preference. She yawned and blinked. The combination of lack of sleep and the fresh air from her time in the mountains was beginning to take its toll. But having been through it before, she knew coffee or no coffee, she probably wouldn’t sleep well anyway. So she might as well enjoy a cuppa with Roger.

  When Jodi entered the kennel room, she gasped in horror. Roger had Rocky’s door open wide enough to slip his arm in, and the gap was letting out the precious oxygen Rocky needed. She put the mugs on the washing machine and rushed over. “Roger, we need to keep the door closed.”

  “But look, he’s smiling. He must be feeling better.”

  “He might be, but we still have to keep him in there so the antiserum works its magic.” Jodi didn’t have the heart to tell Roger that what he had mistaken for a smile was actually the poor dog trying to breathe.

  “Aw, bugger. I should’ve asked first.” Roger rubbed his hands on his pants legs.

  Jodi closed the cage door and readjusted the plastic cover. “No worries. It wasn’t that long, so there shouldn’t be any harm done.” She hoped. She studied the dog for a few minutes and was relieved to see him lick his lips and stop panting.

  “Who’s this furball?”

  Jodi drew her gaze from Rocky to find Roger standing in front of Popcorn’s cage. “That’s Mrs. Rosa’s dog. You knew her, right?”

  Roger smacked his lips. “I know she made a right nice chocolate and coconut slice.”

  “That she did, my friend.” Jodi opened Popcorn’s door and lifted her out. “This little girl belonged to her. When she passed, her daughter asked if I would take her.”

  “Hm. I’d heard something about her being crook. But I didn’t realize she was gone until I overheard the ladies talking about it in the checkout line at the grocery.” He stroked the Pom’s soft coat.

  “Would you like to hold her for a bit? It’ll do her good to be out of that cage. We get so busy here during office hours that she doesn’t always get the attention she deserves.”

  Roger smiled affectionately and reached to take her. “Hello, little one. Do you want some company?”

  Jodi couldn’t help but smile at the change in Roger. The furrow between his eyes relaxed and his worried frown transitioned into a small smile.

  “She’s a real sweetie, isn’t she?”

  Roger hugged Popcorn close and nuzzled her head with his stubbly chin. “I hope my Rocky gets better soon.”

  So do I, so do I, Jodi thought.

  Chapter Seven

  The rhythmic chopping of the fruit helped calm her somewhat. It was late. Or rather, it was early. Two a.m. early. Pip’s mind tumbled over and over. Unable to sleep, she’d carefully untangled herself from Charlie’s arms and crawled out of bed. Tomorrow—no, she checked herself, today—was going to be a big enough day for Charlie without her being disturbed or woken up from Pip’s tossing and turning.

  She grabbed a fresh banana, peeled it, and rapidly sliced it from end to end, robotically reaching for an apple when she was done, and proceeding to slice and dice it to fine cubes and slivers. Unshed tears blurred her vision. She slowed her frantic movements to avoid slicing the ends of her fingers off. Charlie had already taken her to hospital once to have stiches for that. Neither of them needed a repeat performance. Not now. And certainly not today. She sniffled. Charlie would fly out of the country in a few hours. She sniffed again and cleared her throat, which was rapidly tightening with the growing emotions. It wasn’t that she was worried about being alone or lonely. She would miss Charlie. Of that she had no doubt. They had barely been apart for the best part of the year. But that wasn’t what troubled her and kept her awake at night.

  Ever since Terese raised the idea of Charlie applying for a permanent visa, a small knot of dread had sat low and heavy in her gut. What if they refused Charlie’s application and she had to go back to the States permanently? Or worse, what if, when Charlie went home, she realized how much she missed America and her hometown and stayed, never to return to Australia? Or her.

  Pip stopped chopping. She raised the back of her hand to her mouth to stifle a sob, trying desperately to contain the fears that threatened to spill over and undo her. She had schooled herself to be calm and supportive, all the way through the months of Charlie’s form filling, the late night telephone calls, and the meetings with immigration lawyers, gathering testimonies of her character, all the while keeping Charlie positive and reassured. But here she was, on the eve of Charlie going, and all her nerves were unravelling. Just a couple more hours was all she needed. Long enough to get Charlie on the plane. She could fall apart later. Just not now.

  She scooped the fruit salad mix into containers and was in the process of putting the lids on when she heard the toilet flush, followed moments later by the sound of bare feet padding down the hallway. She hastily swiped at her damp face and drew her shoulders back in a vain attempt to keep it
all together.

  A yawn preceded Charlie’s entrance. “What time is it? And why are you cutting up fruit in the middle of the night?”

  Charlie wrapped her arms around her waist from behind. The heat of Charlie’s body pressed up along the length of her back. Pip closed her eyes briefly, her chin quivering with the still raw emotions floating precariously at the surface. Just a few more hours. Space. She needed some space. She eased away from Charlie’s embrace, stacked the filled containers, and carried them to the freezer. “Don’t mind me. Go back to bed, love.”

  “I woke up. You weren’t there.” Charlie yawned again. “You know I can’t sleep when you’re not there.”

  They’d both have to get used to sleeping alone over the next little while. “I’ll be there in a minute. I won’t be long.” Pip kept her back to Charlie as she moved to the sink to rinse the chopping board and knives. She couldn’t look at her. Just concentrate on washing the dishes.

  “You’ve been up nearly every night this past week.”

  “Just trying to stay ahead.” Wash. Rinse. Stack.

  “Sweetheart. We have enough food in the freezer to feed everybody for a month.”

  “You can never have enough.” Pip’s breath caught in her throat as Charlie’s arms once again reached around her. Charlie slid her hands down Pip’s forearms and coaxed her to release her death grip on the washing-up brush.

  “What’s the matter, Pip?”

  Pip’s throat threatened to close over. “Nothing,” she said in a strangled whisper. “Go back to bed.”

  Charlie’s breath was hot on the back of her ear. “Not without you.” She curled one of her arms around Pip’s middle and held her tight against her body. “Talk to me, babe. Why aren’t you sleeping?”

  Pip shook her head. She had no voice. Charlie’s body was threatening to effectively melt what little resolve she had left with which to remain stoic.

  “Are you worried about tomorrow?”

  Pip squeezed her eyes tight. “No.” That much was true. Tomorrow, although hard, would be the easy bit. It was what came after that made her heart cramp with fear and uncertainty. She’d been abandoned before by someone she had loved. Echoes of past fears rang mockingly in her brain.

  “I am.” Charlie’s quiet confession caught her off guard.

  A sob escaped her lips before she could stifle it. Charlie held her tighter in her embrace. Pip felt her lover’s cheek against the back of her head.

  “I know you’ve lived on your own perfectly fine for years. But when I close my eyes, all I see is you, lying on the kitchen floor unconscious, that time when your insulin pump failed. Something so simple, and yet, something so frail and tenuous. I’m scared that something will happen to you while I’m away and there’ll be no one here to help you.”

  Pip heard the tremble in Charlie’s voice. She shook her head. She realized then that they both held fears of the what-ifs. The maybes.

  Charlie nuzzled her ear. “What’s worrying you, love? Please. Talk to me.”

  Pip crumpled in Charlie’s arms, her defences spent. Charlie held her up and turned her around to engulf her in her arms and rock her gently in comfort.

  “I’m…I’m scared.”

  “Of what, sweetheart?”

  “That you won’t come back. That you’ll realize how much you’ve missed America. Your home. That you’ll stay.” Pip burrowed into Charlie’s chest. She fisted her hands tightly in Charlie’s sleep shirt. She wept freely, staining the soft cotton. Pip hated herself. She had worked so hard to stay brave and supportive for Charlie and she was failing miserably at the last hurdle. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled. “I’m sorry.”

  Charlie brushed her thumbs softly against Pip’s cheeks and paused to kiss the damp pathways. “Every day I’m away from you, from here, will feel longer than the one before. But I have to do this. For me. For us.” Charlie peppered her face with kisses. “I don’t want to go. But I have to.”

  Pip’s heart ached. “I know.”

  “I’m in this for the long run. This is where I want to be. Here. With you. But I’ll do it with a happier heart if I know you’ll look after yourself.”

  Pip nodded again. “I will.” Her heart still cramped, but looking into Charlie’s eyes, she saw the truth she needed. They had both voiced their long held fears and found the answers they needed in each other.

  Charlie must have sensed it too. She sealed their affirmations with a crushing kiss. It was desperate, raw, and primal and Pip answered in kind. With that came a sense of urgency. Pip needed to feel Charlie’s skin, to crawl inside her. She couldn’t get close enough. Charlie whipped Pip’s shirt off over her head, pausing briefly at Pip’s sleep shorts where her insulin pump was attached. Pip took matters into her own hands and unplugged herself from the device. She didn’t want there to be any distractions or anything to separate her from Charlie. Not tonight.

  Charlie’s mouth feverishly moved over every surface before it. She wrapped her hands under Pip’s butt cheeks and lifted her up onto the kitchen bench before resuming hot trails up her ribs and across her hips.

  Pip thought her heart would burst clean out of her chest it pounded so hard as Charlie’s lips latched on to an exposed nipple. Pip wrapped her legs around Charlie’s waist, rocking her hips against Charlie’s lean body. When her walls of defence gave way, a part of her had been torn open and she was powerless to stop the flood of emotion. She threw her head back and a cry wrenched itself free as Charlie entered her. Never before had she experienced anything as overwhelming. She clutched tightly to Charlie, her fingernails scoring Charlie’s back as their movements and breaths increased, raced each other, and strove higher and higher. Pip was lost. Her mind emptied as animalistic need drove her, and she rode Charlie’s body, wave after wave until she stopped breathing, stopped thinking, and felt a blinding wash of light, emotion, and energy crash over her, ripping a cry from her throat, leaving her so spent she dissolved into sobs, her body shuddering in the aftermath.

  Charlie cradled her and kissed her face, rocking her gently. Pip felt Charlie’s heart pounding beneath her, its heightened pace matching her own as did the moisture glistening on her face. “I love you.” Charlie’s voice buzzed in her ears. And with every beat of their hearts, Pip knew it to be true.

  With shaky legs, Pip slid from the bench top, took Charlie’s hand, and led her back to the bedroom. Standing at the side of the bed, Pip wrapped her arms around Charlie’s neck and drew her down for a languid kiss. “I love you too.” As she disrobed Charlie, she was determined to use the remainder of the early morning hours to show her just how much.

  Charlie stood in the bedroom with her hands on her hips and looked around. Her duffel bag gaped open on the bed. She was nearly done packing the clothes she’d need in the States. She’d purposely left a few shirts hanging in the closet, hoping to give Pip some comfort and the security that she would indeed be coming home to her.

  She closed her eyes and took a calming breath, trying to slow her anxious heart. She zipped the duffel closed and set it on the floor. She slid her laptop into the computer bag, along with the charging cords, passport, plane tickets, and a copy of the visa she’d come over on originally. According to immigration she had to return to Australia before midnight the day it expired. The entire process made her nervous as hell.

  The time on her mobile phone read six a.m. Her flight out of Coolangatta was scheduled to leave at ten. It would take her to Sydney where she’d board the plane bound for Los Angeles. It was time to go. She took a long look at the bed she shared with Pip, recalling the intense love they’d shown each other until dawn when red and yellow streaks coloured the sky.

  Charlie loaded her bags into the truck, making sure to leave one side clear for Chilli who would be good company for Pip on the ride home.

  “Pip?” She scanned the area around the house and took a quick look inside the prep room. She memorized the sweet scent of kangaroo milk and freshly washed linen, hoping it would hold
her over until she returned.

  The room was empty, so she closed the door and walked out back to where the wildlife enclosures were. The huge aviary sat empty and quiet but for a few brown honeyeaters that were busy picking spiders and other bugs off the netting.

  Charlie caught a flash of white to her right and found Pip staring into the koala pens.

  “Hey,” Charlie said, wrapping an arm around Pip’s waist and kissing the side of her head. “You about ready?”

  “It’s time, is it?” Pip’s focus stayed on the koalas.

  “Mm. Are you still worried about Lucille?” Charlie let go of Pip to get a closer look at the koala. “She looks normal.”

  “Yeah.” Pip shook her head. “I know. But. There’s just something…but I can’t quite put my finger on it.”

  “Babe, when you get home, why don’t you see if Jodi’ll come have a look. You’ve been worrying about Lucille for a while now. If you think there’s something wrong, then trust your instincts. Talk to Jodi.”

  Pip smirked at Charlie. Dark circles under her eyes bore witness to her sleepless nights. “You’re right. I’ll call Jodi on my way home and set something up.”

  “Good girl.” Charlie checked her phone. “I’m sorry, sweetheart, but we really need to get going.”

  Pip sighed. “Okay.”

  “You’re worse than a teenager. You’ve been looking at your phone on and off all afternoon.” Cole tried to keep her voice light. Jodi had been quiet and reserved most of the day, which was most out of character for her usual bubbly self. Dark shadows sat heavily under Jodi’s eyes earmarking yet another sleep-deprived evening. “Must be something good. Anything you want to share?”

  “Actually, yes. Come into my office and I’ll put it on the big screen and you can have a look.”

  Cole blinked in surprise. That wasn’t quite the response she was expecting. But given the seriousness on Jodi’s face, she swallowed any remark she might have had. She quietly let Mandy, the other vet nurse working today, know where they were in case someone came in.