Between Before and After

by Dick, Amanda

  “Are you gonna try again?” Max asked carefully, casting a quick sideways glance at Gavin. “Or is that a really insensitive question?”

  Gavin stared out over the water for a few moments as they waited for his reply. “Yeah. I think we might.”

  “Really?”

  “It wasn’t really something that we thought we were ready for before all this happened, but I think now that we’ve mentally rearranged our lives to fit a baby in, I think we can do it. The doctor said there wasn’t any reason why we can’t try again, down the track sometime.”

  “That’s good – that some good can come out of something like this,” Max said quietly.

  Finn took another sip of his beer. He heard what Max didn’t say.

  Unlike what happened with Danny.

  “So, who’s on dinner duty tonight? Looks like we might have to make alternative arrangements,” he quipped, staring pointedly at the three fishing lines disappearing into the water. Not even so much as a bite yet, although they were going through bait like there was no tomorrow, so something was getting a free meal.

  Max chuckled, finishing his can of beer and tossing it into the empty bag next to him. He grabbed another, cracking it open and taking a long swallow.

  “Give it time, we’ve only been out here half an hour. Hey -” Gavin turned to them. “Remember the time Danny stole the street sign for that flat he was renting in Parnell?”

  “Where the hell did that spring from?” Max smiled crookedly.

  Not here, but not forgotten either.

  “That was the same house he chopped that tree down in the front yard and we ended up in the bloody Tenancy Tribunal.” Finn shook his head. “Jesus, he had some dumb ideas.”

  “Kind of awesome too, though. I mean, who else would’ve imagined a garden bar on the front lawn?” Max chuckled. “And the details – mounting that bottle opener on the front gate was pure genius.”

  “What about the time he disappeared at Amy’s birthday – and then turned up at two in the morning with those stupid little topiary plants that he stole from outside that swanky apartment block down the street?”

  “God, for weeks afterwards, every time there was a knock on the door, I thought it was the cops.”

  “Whatever happened to that flag he ‘borrowed’ from the top of the Lion Breweries building?”

  “He had it up on the living room wall for ages. I don’t know where it ended up – maybe he left it there when they moved to Mt Eden.”

  “Maybe Kate made him get rid of it because it didn’t go with the décor?” Gavin smiled.

  “You mean, like she made him get rid of Mr Exhaust?”

  “Mr Exhaust! Now, that was a piece of art!”

  “Pretty sure that wasn’t what Kate called it,” Max sniggered, taking another sip of beer.

  “She’s a chick – what would she know about man-art?”

  “Whose idea was it to send postcards to the shop after he stole it? Was that Danny’s too?”

  “Nah, that was me. We kept that going for a year, maybe more, if I remember rightly.”

  “Dear Tom,” Max quoted, grinning. “Having a great time here in Methven – wish you were here. Love, Mr Exhaust.”

  “Hey, if Kevin hadn’t ripped him off with the repairs on the Monaro, he never would have stolen Mr Exhaust from out the front of the shop in the first place – he’s only got himself to blame.”

  Without warning, the comfort curdled and Finn swallowed down the heartache. It was like they were talking about two different people. The Danny they knew – the one who was always full of mischief and was constantly looking for adventure – was nothing like the Danny who put a gun to his head and pulled the trigger. That person was a stranger.

  “I still feel like I’m just looking after the Monaro,” he said, almost to himself.

  He couldn’t get his mouth to even say the words my car. It was always the Monaro. He had owned it for three years and yet it would never be his. The chorus of cicadas seemed to get louder. He stared at the fishing rods, several metres from them. Despite his companions’ silence, he felt compelled to continue.

  “I get strangers coming up to me in the street, telling me how awesome it is,” he continued quietly. “They ask me how long I’ve had it, and if I did all the work on it myself and I can’t help but tell them the truth – that it’s not mine, it belonged to a friend, and he did all the work on it, not me. He was the one who tracked it down and refurbished it, not me.” He shrugged. “I just drive it.”

  Danny and the Monaro. They were cosmically tied. He couldn’t look at it, much less drive it, without thinking of Danny.

  “I’m gonna go get some more bait,” he said, getting up quickly. “Looks like we might be out here awhile.”

  “Grab some more beer too,” Max called after him.

  One step swiftly followed the next and he soon reached the end of the jetty. He followed the walkway over the rocks and back onto the path that hugged the shore, the crushed shells beneath his feet crunching with each footstep. He passed the rustic wooden bench that someone had built years earlier, snuggled into the rock face and offering a beautiful view out over the bay, and soon found himself at the boat shed. Annoyed with himself for letting his emotions get the better of him, he climbed down off the path and onto the sandy beach. He walked along the soft sand slowly, hands thrust deep into his pockets, feet sinking slightly into the sand with every step.

  If he just knew what had been going on with Danny, it would have made things so much easier to deal with. But he didn’t know, none of them did.

  He stepped from the sandy beach onto the grass, trudging up the slight incline towards the house.

  Lacey sat on the deck, the book she was reading open in her lap. After the last couple of weeks, the peace and quiet of the beach house was exactly what she needed. No more open roads leading to nowhere, no more smiling for strangers and avoiding their many questions. Finally, she felt like she could exhale and just be.

  The sun beat down on her bare neck, her long dark hair swept up into a messy ponytail high on her head. She pushed her sunglasses further up the bridge of her nose and squinted out at the jetty. In the hazy heat of the afternoon, she spied only two figures, not three. She followed the path back from the jetty along the rocks, and eventually spotted the third figure – Finn, she thought – near the beginning of the pathway.

  She watched him until he disappeared behind the boat shed, coming back into view a few moments later as he made his way along the beach towards the house. She closed her book and sat, waiting patiently, as he started up the lawn towards her.

  “Don’t tell me,” she smiled as he got closer. “The sea’s empty.”

  He shook his head, smirking. “Quite possibly.”

  “What’s up?”

  “Running low on supplies.”

  He climbed up the steps and walked along the deck towards the beer fridge at the other end. “Whatcha doin’?” he called back over his shoulder.

  “Just enjoying the peace and quiet. Catching up on some reading.”

  She looked down at the book in her lap. She had started it over a week ago but just couldn’t concentrate long enough to really get into it. She had been hoping that, now that they were here, she could make some headway. Travelling around the South Island for a week prior to this weekend had seemed like a good idea at the time. She had wanted to get out of the house and away from all the baby reminders. She thought it would help. Now, after being on the road for the past week, she was over it. Keeping busy hadn’t helped. She just wanted to take some time out and relax, without having to worry about packing up her things first thing the next morning, or making polite conversation with strangers. She was over dealing with people. She just wanted to be with her friends.

  Finn grabbed a six-pack of beer and the small plastic bag of bait from the fridge, then plonked himself down on the other deck chair beside her. Apparently in no hurry to return to the jetty, he cracked open one of the beers
and took a long drink, sighing appreciatively.

  “You need anything while I’m here?” he asked, turning to her.

  “No, I’m good, thanks.”

  She leaned her head against the chair back and regarded him carefully. Despite his laid-back appearance, she had a feeling something was bothering him. It was in the set of his shoulders, she decided after careful consideration.

  “Are you okay?” she asked.

  “I should be asking you that,” he countered, frowning. “How are you feeling?”

  Heat coloured her cheeks, but she forced herself to answer in the positive. “I’m good – better.”

  “I’m sorry I didn’t come up and see you after it happened. I wanted to – I don’t know if Gav told you that. He said it was better not to.”

  “I’m glad you didn’t come. I was kind of a mess afterwards.” She could feel the tears coming. “Thanks for the flowers too, they were beautiful.”

  “You’re welcome.” He took a quick sip of beer. “I didn’t know what to say, so I thought: flowers.”

  “It was perfect. And you’re right – there really isn’t anything to say, is there? It just happened. Apparently, things like that just…happen.”

  Her womb suddenly throbbed with emptiness. It was like some kind of muscle memory – as if it remembered the precious cargo it once contained and longed for its return, just as she did. She wondered if it was like the phantom pain that amputees felt, craving missing limbs.

  “Gav said the doctor reckoned it won’t stop you from having another baby, further down the track,” he said carefully, glancing over at her. “Is that right?”

  Somewhere deep inside, she flinched. How could replacing one baby with another be a perfectly acceptable way of dealing with loss? Were tiny, fragile souls really that interchangeable?

  “That’s what they said.”

  The silence was uncomfortably long.

  “I’m really sorry, Lace – I don’t know what else to say.”

  Her shattered heart melted at the desolation on his face. It reminded her so much of the weeks following Danny’s death. Grief was more than a feeling, it was a process. It was something you had to go through – a journey – before you could put it behind you and emerge on the other side of it, hopefully stronger, definitely altered. Even so, it etched pain into your soul forever. Just when you thought you had managed to wipe all the telltale marks away, something else happened to remind you that it was never truly gone. It had a cumulative effect, each bereavement dredging up feelings of past losses and adding to them, like building blocks of pain, previously hidden inside your soul, wrenched out into the open so you had to deal with them all over again.

  She reached over to take hold of the hand he offered as tears stung her eyes. “I’ll be okay. It’s not the end of the world.” She wanted to believe that. She had to.

  He squeezed, giving her a thin smile before letting her go. “I suppose I better get back out there before they run out of beer completely.”

  “What about bait?”

  “Yeah, that too,” he sighed, getting up. “I was thinking in terms of priorities - try to keep up.”

  He winked at her, smiling as he gathered up the six-pack and the bait and started off down the steps.

  “I’ll get the fry-pan ready,” she called after him.

  He waved the bait over his shoulder at her and she fought back tears as she watched him trudge along the beach towards the jetty.

  Chapter Four

  Motion sickness clung to Kate’s insides as she sat at the Picton ferry terminal, waiting. She watched as passengers, on foot and in vehicles, made their way out of the terminal and into the small township. She made a game of it while she waited, trying to spot the international tourists from the locals. Backpacks and matching tracksuits made it easy.

  She crossed her legs and tried to ignore the heat that radiated off the concrete beneath her as she waited for someone to collect her. She dug around in her shoulder bag and pulled out a hair clip, twisting her long auburn hair up into a makeshift ponytail and clipping it loosely. The instant relief from the heat was blissful. Delving back into her bag, she latched onto the small bottle of water she had bought on the ferry, taking a couple of quick sips.

  When she looked up, the Monaro was pulling into the ferry terminal. Her heart skipped a beat. She told herself that it was just the memory of Danny, lurking in her subconscious. Lately though, she had reason to doubt that explanation.

  The chrome glinted in the mid-afternoon sun as the Monaro pulled up beside her. She stood and Finn smiled at her through the windscreen. Despite her best efforts, her stomach did somersaults. Since the almost-kiss at New Years, the nature of their text messages and emails had been tentative, unsure – bordering on flirtatious, even. She could tell he felt it too. It was like a game – they circled each other cautiously, but circumstances meant that was all they were capable of. He had Kelly and she had – well, she had a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach that made her wary. She didn’t want to make a fool of herself – or lose a friend. And then there was Danny.

  Finn jumped out of the car, still smiling. “Hey, Red – need a lift?”

  “Maybe. You offering?”

  “Maybe.”

  He winked and walked towards her, his arms out. The shyness suddenly disappeared and she gave a little skip as she stepped into his embrace, wrapping her arms around him.

  “I’m glad it was you,” she said into his shirt. He towered over her and she loved the way she fit into his arms. He was slightly taller than Danny and that extra inch or so seemed to make a difference.

  “What?”

  “I’m glad it was you, who came to pick me up.” She pulled away, embarrassed. “I mean, I haven’t seen you for a while.”

  Staring up at him, with the sun behind him, his short brown hair seemed to glow, mesmerising her. She tried to act casual, but felt far from it. His blue eyes twinkled, clearly amused.

  “It’s only been a month or so, but if I get a reception like this every time, then maybe we shouldn’t see each other as often.”

  “Not in the least bit funny.” She smiled, reaching up to make sure her hair was still presentable.

  “How’s the stomach?” he asked, walking around the car with her to collect her bag.

  “Still queasy.”

  He deposited her bag into the boot of the car. “A bit rough out there, was it?”

  “It could’ve been worse.”

  He slammed the boot shut. “Max said it wasn’t too bad when he came across this morning.”

  “So he made it?” Her heart soared. “I wasn’t sure he would – he hasn’t returned any of my texts.”

  “Yeah, that seems to be the catch-phrase of the day.” Finn leaned on the roof of the car.

  “Is he okay?” she asked. Something in Finn’s demeanour seemed to suggest otherwise.

  “I think so. I don’t know. It’s hard to tell with him lately. You know what he’s like – he can be annoyingly cagey when he wants to be.”

  “I’m just glad he came,” she said. “I’ve missed him. He’s been so crap at keeping in touch lately, I thought I’d get here only to find out that he was a no-show, just like at New Years.”

  Her heart raced as she realised she had mentioned New Years – the one thing she swore she wouldn’t. She hoped he didn’t notice.

  “Yeah, I asked him about that. He said he was up north somewhere, no cellphone coverage.”

  She raised her eyebrows dubiously but Finn just shrugged. “I’m just telling you what he said.”

  They got into the car and Finn gunned the engine. The sound was so familiar, associated with such fond memories, she couldn’t help but smile over at him.

  He smiled back, obviously reading her mind. “Just had it serviced last week.”

  He turned his attention to the traffic still streaming out of the ferry as they crawled out of the terminal area, towards the main road. They fell into a comfortable silence a
s they drove towards town and then out onto Queen Charlotte Drive. The narrow, winding road did nothing to ease the remnants of Kate’s motion sickness.

  “Can you slow down a bit? I don’t feel so crash hot.”

  They slowed as he took yet another bend.

  “Stupid motion sickness pills were a waste of money,” she mumbled.

  “Why don’t you fly down next time? I can pick you up from Blenheim airport.”

  “Right now, I’m seriously tempted,” she said, keeping her eyes on the road.

  “Only another twenty minutes, at the most.”

  “Don’t hurry on my account.”

  “Think of something else,” he suggested, taking the next bend a little too fast for her liking.

  “Just slow down, will you please? I don’t want to puke out the window of a moving car.”

  “That makes two of us.”

  “Finn.”

  “I have slowed down, trust me – if I go any slower, we’ll be walking.”

  Twenty agonising minutes later, they were pulling over into the gravel turning bay. He made the tight turn, crossing the road and following the driveway under the canopy of trees and down towards the house. She was glad she was the last to arrive. It would have been worse arriving to an empty house. She found herself more than over the whole empty house scenario lately.

  Finn parked behind Gavin’s car, gently applying the brake. Memories flooded over and through her as she stared at the back of the house. She knew this house almost as well as she knew her own, yet the familiarity was as much comforting as it was disconcerting.

  “Hey,” Finn interrupted gently. “You okay?”

  She shook the memories off, smiling. “Fine.”

  He looked about to say something else when she caught sight of Gavin and Max walking through the carport towards them, beaming.

  “Uh oh – someone looks a little green!” Gavin quipped, pulling her into a hug as soon as she got out of the car. “Rough sailing?”

  “God, I hate those bloody ferries,” she said, hugging him back.

  “Next time, fly down – we’ll pick you up from Blenheim.”

  She pulled away, glancing over at Finn. “Funny, we were just talking about that before. At least the flight is shorter.”