by N. R. Walker
I kissed his forehead, then his lips, then pulled him in for a gentle hug. “Me too. I don’t know what I’d have done if you didn’t make it. Because truthfully, in the ambulance on the way to the hospital, I thought you were going to die.” I shuddered at the memory. “I’ve never been so scared.”
He tightened his hold on me. “I’m sorry you had to see that. I can’t even imagine what would have happened if it were you, Jack, that went down that embankment with those cane toads. I’d have never got you up the embankment, let alone carry you out of the forest.” He pulled back and his frown was so utterly sad. “I can’t even bear to think about it. And now we’re two for two. First the bushfire, and now this. You’ve saved me twice.”
I kissed him softly. “How about we don’t try for a hat trick, okay?”
He finally laughed. “Well, I can attest to not trying to die again, that’s for certain. But I’m sure there’ll be other butterfly expeditions―”
I put my finger to his lip. “The correct answer is ‘yes, Jack.’”
He chuckled. “I’d love some breakfast. But can we go to the restaurant? I don’t want to be cooped up inside any longer than I need to be.”
“Of course. Let me grab a quick shower.”
Ten minutes later, I was ready to go, and Lawson had changed into some shorts and a shirt. He still looked tired, though I guessed the headache tablets had kicked in. “Ready?”
“Starving.”
I chuckled, thinking that was his new state of being. We ate a breakfast of fruit, toast, and tea, and even though his energy levels had improved, he still tired easily. “How about we spend the morning lazing in the courtyard, then this afternoon, if you’re up for it, we can go see Piers at the conservatory?”
He gave me a grateful smile. “Sounds perfect.”
* * *
Whether he felt up to it or not, by mid-afternoon, Lawson was determined to visit Piers. I took his stubbornness as a sign that he was feeling better. Something I’d learned through all of this was that a sick Lawson was agreeable to almost everything. A feeling-better Lawson was getting back to his feisty self.
But I understood his frustration. No one liked being sick and dependent on someone else, so even though I thought he might be rushing it, I didn’t want to dampen his mood. He simply washed two Advil down with some juice and grinned. “I’m good to go.”
And going back to the conservatory did brighten his mood. As soon as we walked into the lab, Piers met us with an enthusiastic greeting. He put both hands on Lawson’s shoulders and gave him the once over. “How are you feeling? You look better.” Then Piers glanced at me. “He looks better, no?”
“He does. But he insisted on dropping by, and I know it’ll be easier and quicker if I just agree and help him rather than argue, because we all know he’s just going to do it himself anyway.”
Lawson considered this for a moment, then conceded. “True.”
Piers laughed. “Ah, it is good to have you both here. Come and look.”
It almost looked like a different lab. There were charts, folders, spreadsheets, data, laptops, and a smartboard, and Piers showed Lawson each one, in turn, pointing out the data Lawson had collated, and they discussed numbers and pH levels and bio-somethings, while I didn’t even pretend to understand.
“Isn’t it fascinating?” Piers asked with a flourish. Lawson quickly agreed, and I nodded. Though what was really fascinating was the difference in attitude in Piers. Where before he was frustrated and angry at getting nowhere, now he was excited and driven by results. If I had wondered at Piers’ ability to keep the ball rolling, I certainly didn’t now. He was all over it.
“We’re expecting a good wet season,” Piers said. “First decent one in four years. It will flush out existing pools and toxicity levels. So we should see significant improvement in the Ulysses environment in the next few seasons. In the meantime, we’re considering special gardens and plantations specific to the doughwood. We’ll have safeguards, of course, now we know the cane toad tadpole is to blame. Thanks to you, Lawson.
“And we’ve presented our findings to the environmental departments in Papua New Guinea, the Solomons, and Indonesia. Though Indonesia has had good rainfall, so they’re not seeing the results we have. It seems we might be able to secure some breeding pairs from them once we are sure we have resolved our situation the best we can.”
“That is terrific news!” Lawson said.
“Yes. Come see this,” Piers added quickly.
I put my hand up like a stop sign. “I’ll go find Gary and sort out the camping gear. You two will be a while here, no doubt.” They both nodded like it was a given. “I’ll be back soon. And Piers? Would you mind getting Lawson a stool to sit on or something?”
Lawson gave me a half-irritated, half-thankful scowl. Piers threw his hands up like he couldn’t believe he didn’t think of that. “Yes! Of course, silly me. Where are my manners?”
I left them to it and went in search of Gary. He’d been kind enough to pack up all our camping gear that we’d had to leave behind in the middle of the forest. I caught him as he was zooming past on a quad runner with some kind of wood and tarp contraption on the back. He pulled up to a stop as soon as he saw me.
“Hey,” he said warmly. “How’s Lawson?”
“Better. Recovering, though it’s slower than he’d like.”
“I bet. I’ve got all your camping gear back in my shed. I can grab it for you now if you like? All the tubs and work gear I left with Piers.” He nodded in the general direction of the conservatory.
“Well, I have no real way of getting it all back to Tassie anyway, plus I’ve got all my own camping gear. Could anyone around here use it?”
“Sure they could!” he replied brightly. “We have camping expeditions into the forest with tourists, school groups, research students. I’m sure it’ll get put to good use, if you’re sure?”
“Positive.” Then I took a closer look at the weird looking apparatus he was taking somewhere. “What is that thing? Are they buoys?”
He snorted and got off the quad runner. “Yep. I got thinkin’ about those tadpoles, you know, the ones we have in the water tank for the orchard filtration system.”
I nodded. “And?”
“And I got to lookin’ on some cane toad site online. A team in Brissie designed a kind of funnel trap and a bait that attracts the tadpoles. Some kind of pheromone thing. Anyway, I contacted ’em and got approval through my boss to get some of the bait. But I rigged this trap up myself after looking at theirs. Wasn’t too hard.” He held it up and showed me the underneath. It was indeed some kind of funnel trap that sat on the water surface. “Little buggers go in here and can’t get out. They reckon they caught tens of thousands in a just a few days.”
“That’s awesome!” I said, looking the device over. “Lawson would love it!”
Gary smiled proudly. “Guess it certainly can’t hurt. Who knows? If we try it here, it might help this team in Brisbane with a trial.”
“That’s incredible,” I said. I liked Gary. We were a lot alike. Both outdoorsy, better with our hands than with our brains. “I better get back. But hey, if you’re ever down south and want to see how the Tasmanian Parks and Wildlife do their thing, I’d love to show you around. I really appreciate everything you’ve done for us.”
“Will do,” he said. He shook my hand, got back on the quad runner, and went on his way.
When I got back to the lab, Lawson was sitting on the stool, and he and Piers were both studying a laptop screen filled with tables of numbers. Lawson looked up and smiled, and I rubbed his back. “How’re you feeling?” The fact he was sitting on the stool while Piers was standing told me enough.
“Okay. Tired.”
I kissed the side of his head. “Just spoke to Gary. He showed me a funnel trap he made himself for the retention tank at the orchard. There’s some kind of bait he found online that attracts the tadpoles and kills them.”
“Yes,
” Lawson said. He gestured to the screen. “We were just looking at that. Can you believe the bait they’re testing is from the cane toad’s own poison?”
I barked out a laugh. “Actually, I can believe that. I’ve seen what that poison can do.”
Lawson gave me a sad smile. “Indeed.”
“Apparently the pheromone they extract attracts only the cane toad tadpole, not any other frog species,” Piers went on to say.
Lawson still hadn’t stopped looking at me. “Did you get everything sorted with Gary?”
I rubbed his back again. “I did.” He was still tired, I could tell. “You ready to go?”
He gave me a small nod. “Yes. I can’t believe how utterly exhausted I am. We did nothing but lie about reading all morning.” Then he seemed to reconsider what he said. “Well, Jack read. I mostly slept.”
I rubbed his back some more. “The doc said it’ll take a while. You need to take it easy.”
The look he shot me said I am taking it easy, and Piers chuckled. “Well, Lawson and Jack, I must say it has been a true joy to have you both here. I owe you both an immeasurable debt. I hate to think where we’d be if you hadn’t made the connection between the toxin bufadienolides and bioaccumulation and transference.”
“It’s my absolute pleasure,” Lawson said. “And I have no regrets about not staying on.” Before Piers could be offended, Lawson added, “Because I know it’s in very capable hands.”
We bid Piers farewell, with him promising to email Lawson often with updates, or to call if he needed, and we headed back to the hotel. Lawson leaned his head against the headrest and smiled sleepily at me. “No regrets on not staying?” I asked.
He shook his head a little. “None.”
I grinned at him as I drove. “Me either.”
“I miss Rosemary. I miss the quiet of your house, the smell of your bed. I want to go home, Jack.”
I took his hand and gave it a squeeze. “Tomorrow. By this time tomorrow, you’ll be on the sofa with Rosemary at your side, and I’ll be in the kitchen cooking you my Nonna’s lasagne.”
“Sounds perfect,” he mumbled, almost asleep in the car. “So tired.”
When we got back to the hotel, I managed to get him into bed, took his shoes off, pulled his trousers off, but left his shirt and undies on. I pulled up the blanket, kissed his forehead. “Love you,” I whispered and let him sleep.
* * *
By the time we got all of Lawson’s tubs and work gear organised for freight back to Tasmania and then into the airport ourselves, I could tell he was already lagging. We’d only been up for a few hours and I’d done all the packing and lifting, but he was still weary. “Want me to get you a courtesy wheelchair?”
He shot me a horrified look. “No! Of course not!”
When we boarded the plane, he sank into his seat and snoozed for most of the flight. But when we arrived in Melbourne, he was having trouble staying awake. “Want a wheelchair now?” I asked. “We have to walk to the other end of the terminal, Lawson. It’s not worth ending up back in hospital, is it?”
He pouted but didn’t argue, and that was answer enough for me. I asked a stewardess if we could please have a wheelchair, and without any trouble, we had one. I pushed him through the terminal to our gate, and he never said a thing. When we finally took our seats on the plane to Launceston, he let out a heavy sigh.
“You okay?” I asked.
He blinked slowly, barely awake. “Yeah.”
I took hold of his hand. “Remember the first time we met, it was on this flight. Melbourne to Launceston.”
He smiled. “Yes, you laughed at me, then trampled me into the aisle.”
I barked out a laugh. “I did not! Anyway, I seem to remember you calling me a serial killer.”
He closed his eyes and squeezed my hand. “The foundation of all perfect relationships.”
I chuckled and was going to say something else, but he was already asleep.
* * *
There really is nothing like coming home. Even the biting Tasmanian cold didn’t dampen my spirits.
Lawson snoozed the entire drive from Launceston to Scottsdale. When I’d asked him if he wanted to go to his place or mine, his answer was immediate. “Yours. Ours. Take me home, Jack.”
My heart almost beat right out of my chest.
And my smile got bigger as I turned down Stanning Road. I was taking him home―mine, his, ours. We’d worry about getting his things moved later, but for now, he needed rest and recuperation. And if he stayed at home, then Rosemary and I could look after him.
It seemed Remmy had other ideas.
As my house came into view, so did four cars, all parked in my front yard. Remmy and Nico’s car was there, and I knew she had to be the one behind it.
I drove up to the house and pulled on the handbrake. I knew she only had the best of intentions, but Lawson really wasn’t up for a welcoming committee. At least they’d have the fire going, I reasoned. I climbed out of my ute and walked around to Lawson’s door. He was still asleep, so I gently shook his arm. “Hey, Lawson, baby, we’re home.”
He startled awake and looked bleary eyed at the house. With my hand under his elbow, I helped him out and up the front porch steps. It was only then he seemed to notice the cars in the front yard, and as I opened the door, a loud and warm ‘welcome home’ cried out from the lounge room.
God, everyone was there. Rosemary, of course. Remmy, Nico, Luka. My mum and step-dad, my sisters, and Lawson’s parents. A huge sign stuck to the wall read “Welcome home and thanks for not dying” which made me laugh.
Lawson was shocked, to say the least, but he was all smiles as his mum and dad hugged him. Hyacinth had her hands to his face, but I was distracted by Remmy almost tackling me into a fierce hug. “Oh my God, Jack. Is he okay?”
“He’s fine, Remmy, thank you. Travelling has just taken it out of him, that’s all.”
I turned to find Lawson bending down and giving Rosemary a half pat, half cuddle, and she was wriggling herself crazy. I gave her a scratch behind the ear. “Hey, you’re supposed to greet me first,” I pretended to rouse on her.
Lawson gave me a smile. “She loves me.”
I slid my arm around his back. “Yes, she does.”
Then Lawson’s parents hugged me. “Thank you for everything,” his mum said.
“It was nothing,” I replied humbly.
His dad put his hand on my shoulder. “It was everything.”
Then I noticed my parents and sisters watching. I rubbed Lawson’s back. “Come on, I want you to meet my folks.”
Lawson didn’t budge. He mumbled, “I’m not really dressed appropriately to be meeting your family.”
He was wearing his navy trousers and a pale blue button-down shirt and looked more than fine to me. “You look great.” He made a face. I leaned in and whispered, “They’ll love you no matter what you wear.”
Reluctantly, he let me lead him over to where my family were standing back. “Mum, Dad, this is Lawson Gale. Lawson, this is Robert and Katherine Brighton. And my sisters, April and Poppy, who you’ve spoken with on the phone.”
My dad, or technically my step-father, but he was the only dad I really knew, was first to reply. He shook Lawson’s hand. “We’ve heard so much about you, it’s good to finally meet you, son.”
“So very nice to finally meet you,” Mum said, taking his hands. “We heard about how sick you got in Queensland, and Remmy said she was having a little welcome home party. I hope you don’t mind?”
Lawson quickly answered. “No, I don’t mind at all. I’m very glad to meet you both. I’m just sorry I’m not exactly dressed for first impressions.” He patted down his hair, which was a nervous thing he hadn’t done in a while. “It’s been quite a long day.”
I took his hand. “Excuse us for a second,” I said, leading him to the hall. “We’ll be right back.”
There was silence behind us, but Remmy saved the situation. “Right, then. Pot of tea
is on. Who wants cake?”
I took Lawson into my bedroom and sat him down on the edge of the bed. “What are you doing?” he asked, looking up at me.
“You’re not comfortable,” I stated. “Take your shirt off.”
His eyes bugged out, but I went to my wardrobe and pulled out one of his shirts. I handed it to him. “Here. Put this on.” Then I went to my dresser drawers and took out one of his bow ties. “You’ll feel much better if you’re dressed the way you feel most comfortable.”
His eyes got glassy, and for a moment I thought he might cry. “Thank you.” He slowly pulled on the shirt and did up the buttons. It was just plain white with long sleeves, but it was freshly pressed. He took a little longer to finish buttoning up, as though his arms were tired, so I popped his collar up and he let his arms fall to his sides while I tried to tie his bow tie. It had been years, and I was never really any good at them. It was a yellow bow tie, one he’d left here ages ago. “I wondered where I left this one,” he said quietly.
When I met his eyes, he was staring up at me with such love. I folded his collar down, leaned in, and kissed him. “I kinda suck at doing ties of any kind,” I said, “and it’s crooked, and one side is bigger than the other, just a little bit, but still. Not exactly symmetrical like how you do them.”
He stood up, his eyes never leaving mine. “I don’t care. It’s perfect.”
“You uh, haven’t seen it.”
“I don’t need to.”
“You sure you feel okay?”
He nodded. “Yes. Tired, but otherwise fine. We best not keep them waiting. And I believe there’s tea.”
I kissed him one more time for good luck. “And cake.”
I took his hand and led him back out to where our friends and family were sitting around the dining table, drinking tea. I eyed the almost-gone cake. “There better be some of that left,” I said.
“Hummingbird cake,” Remmy said, quickly cutting me a huge slice. “Your favourite.”
I pulled out a chair at the table for Lawson to sit on, which he took with a shy smile. I only realised a little too late that it was in between my mother and his. I gave his shoulder a squeeze and pulled out a stool from under the kitchen bench. Remmy handed me the plate of cake, but I needed to grab a spoon, and Remmy quickly cornered me in the kitchen.