The January Wish

by Juliet Madison

  Her house came into view, and Richard sat on the doorstep, his thumbs tapping away at his phone. A subtle swish of the curtain in the house next door proved that Nancy Dillinger was spying as usual, probably wondering why Sylvia was late and a man was sitting on her doorstep.

  ‘I’m so sorry, it’s been a hectic day,’ Sylvia apologised, panting when she reached Richard. Her face was flushed with warmth and sweat dampened her armpits. ‘Someone needed my assistance after work, and I lost track of time.’

  ‘I thought as much.’ Richard slipped his phone into his pocket. ‘Doesn’t matter, after being on my feet all day yesterday it’s good to sit for a while.’

  Sylvia breathed relief into her lungs as they headed inside where she served up the Thai food onto her best plates and poured a glass of wine each. After placing the plates on the table, she ducked into the bathroom and gave her armpits a quick spray of deodorant. She couldn’t be rude and have a shower, so hopefully the deodorant would do the trick for a couple of hours. She wondered if she should tell Richard about Grace, but decided the best thing to do was simply enjoy their dinner, and if it felt right later, she would bring it up then.

  ‘So, how was your day?’ she asked as she sat opposite him at the dining table.

  An hour and a half and two wines later, Sylvia motioned for Richard to join her on the couch where she kicked off her shoes and tucked her feet under her thighs, one arm on the back of the lounge behind Richard. He leaned in and pressed his lips to hers, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and caressing her cheek. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer, but she stiffened. Suddenly, the fuzzy but unforgettable memory of the night Grace was conceived came rushing to the front of her mind.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ Richard asked.

  ‘Nothing, nothing’s wrong,’ she blurted.

  ‘Yes there is, you’ve been distracted all night, and something happened just now. What is it?’

  ‘It’s been a long day, that’s all, and I haven’t had much time to wind down after the conference.’

  Richard drew her closer for another kiss, then slowly backed away. He studied her face for a moment as though probing a patient for the cause of her problem. ‘Talk to me.’

  Sylvia sighed and looked down at her hands, and Richard lifted her chin with his finger.

  She placed her feet back on the floor and looked him in the eye. ‘Richard, there’s something I should tell you.’

  Chapter 5

  ‘You’re a mother?’ The leather cushions made an awkward squelchy sound as Richard stood up from the couch. ‘But when we met you said you didn’t have any kids!’

  ‘I know, but this is different.’ Sylvia stood too. ‘It’s not like I have Grace, and I hadn’t even met her until today.’

  ‘Yes but you had Grace. You should have told me. This is big Sylvia, you can’t pretend it never happened.’ He ran a hand through his hair, his chest rising sharply as he took a breath. ‘Geez, I told you straight out I’d left a bad relationship where kids were involved, and I didn’t want to get into another relationship with someone else who had kids. I was honest, and you should have been too.’ He walked over to the dining table and leaned his hands onto it.

  ‘I’m sorry Richard, I didn’t think telling you about the adoption was relevant at the time. I never thought I’d ever meet her.’ Sylvia’s voice weakened and the lump in her throat resurfaced. She wanted him to walk back to her, gather her in his arms and say it was okay, that he didn’t mind she had a daughter. That he would even be happy to meet her, and they could continue with their relationship. But he didn’t. He picked up his keys and phone and walked towards the door.

  ‘Wait! Where are you going?’ Sylvia rushed after him.

  ‘Home,’ he replied, frowning.

  ‘But we should talk about this,’ Sylvia pleaded.

  ‘We should have talked about this six weeks ago, Sylvia.’ He slipped the phone into his pocket. ‘Look, you know I care about you, and I’ve enjoyed the past few weeks, but you have a child. I didn’t sign up for this. I just can’t take on anything complicated right now.’

  Sign up for this? What was she, a difficult patient with a rare disease or something?

  He stepped closer to her, his hand hesitating near her shoulder for a moment, then dropping back to his side. ‘I’m sorry.’ He turned and walked out, the bang of the closing door sending a painful jolt through Sylvia’s body.

  She went to turn the doorknob, but stopped. Tears of disbelief stung her eyes. So that was it? Had he really just broken it off with her? Their relationship was—had been—in the ‘getting to know each other’ stage, but she’d already developed strong feelings for him, and the possibility of something special had been yanked from her grasp before she’d had a chance to hold on. She slumped her shoulders in disappointment and pushed an irritating tear away with the heel of her hand.

  He could have been the one, and now he was gone.

  * * *

  Grace put the takeaway food container in the garbage bin, and went inside the caravan to change into her pyjamas. Warmth filled her metal home, so all she needed was a thin cotton nightie. She picked up her phone as soon as it rang.

  ‘Hi Dad.’ Grace flopped on the small bed. ‘Yep, I met her this afternoon.’

  ‘Was she shocked?’ her father asked.

  ‘I think so at first, but not more than me. I fainted, can you believe it?’

  ‘You fainted? Are you okay sweetheart?’

  ‘Yeah I’m fine, don’t worry. Anyway, next thing I knew she was by my side helping me up.’

  ‘So what’s she like?’

  ‘She seems nice, I mean, we only talked for a bit, but…wow, I can’t believe how much we look alike, it feels so weird!’

  Silence followed.

  ‘Dad?’

  ‘Yeah, I’m still here.’

  ‘Good. So anyway, we’re going to meet up tomorrow night for dinner. That’ll give us more of a chance to talk. And Dad?’

  ‘Yeah, sweetie?’

  ‘I have a feeling I might be staying here a while.’

  Stay as long as you want. I’d be happy to spend some time getting to know you. That’s what Sylvia had said. Her original, biological mother.

  Grace had so many questions she wanted to ask Sylvia, and so much had happened in her short eighteen years on earth that she could probably write one of those bestselling memoirs. Maybe one day she would. But for now, Grace wondered, how much should she tell her?

  After finishing the phone conversation with her dad, Grace opened the lid on her water bottle, tipped a small container upside down into her hand, and swallowed the tablets she took every night.

  Chapter 6

  When she’d finally processed what had happened, Sylvia went to the bathroom and dabbed at her face with a cold cloth. Suddenly she was wide awake, even though it was ten o’clock and would normally head to bed about now, read for an hour, then fall asleep. But there was no chance of that tonight.

  She patted make-up from her powder compact over her cheeks, swept a dash of eye shadow across her eyelids, and followed with a light coat of lip gloss. Needing fresh air, she grabbed her handbag and went outside. Café Lagoon would be open till eleven tonight. A frothy cup of coffee and a piece of cake would make her feel better. As Sylvia headed towards the town a light flickered in the house next door as Nancy Dillinger’s curtains swayed against the window.

  ‘Dr Greene, what brings you here so late at night?’ asked Jonah, the young barista.

  ‘It’s been a long day and I’d kill for a cup of your best coffee.’

  ‘Coming right up.’ He winked. Jonah knew how she liked her coffee. She’d been coming here regularly for several years, ever since his parents opened up the café, which was about the same time she started general practice at Tarrin’s Bay Medical Clinic.

  ‘Oh, and a big slice of hummingbird cake, please.’

  Jonah widened his eyes. ‘Must have been a tough day.’

&n
bsp; ‘You could say that.’ She took a seat on one of only two remaining bar stools near the counter. The café was surprisingly busy, mostly filled with twenty-something’s who alternated between chatting, laughing, and texting. She felt quite old and pathetic, and considered asking Jonah to make it a takeaway coffee until the man next to her spoke.

  ‘Coffee, huh? You know, that stuff’ll keep you up all night.’

  She turned to face a stunning man with skin the colour of, well, warm velvety coffee, and eyes a striking blue. ‘So I’ve heard. But with the day I’ve had, I think I’d be up most of the night anyway so I might as well indulge.’

  As if on cue, Jonah placed the steaming coffee in front of her. The rich, welcoming scent instantly put her at ease. The cake arrived next, a dollop of cream by its side.

  ‘What are you drinking, is that decaf?’ Sylvia asked the man.

  ‘No, it’s dandelion chai,’ he said, before taking a long slow sip from the mug.

  ‘Dandy what?’ Sylvia furrowed her eyebrows.

  ‘Dandelion chai, it’s a type of tea.’ He took another sip. ‘You should try it sometime.’

  Sylvia leaned back, cautiously eyeing his unfamiliar concoction. ‘I think I’ll stick to coffee, thanks.’ She took a sip then dove a fork into the hummingbird cake with gusto, wiping a smudge of cream from her lip with the heel of her hand. She could easily devour two slices.

  ‘Fair enough.’ His lips formed a gentle smile, and for a moment Sylvia forgot about Richard and their argument. Forgot how only hours ago she’d met her grown daughter for the first time, and how, amazingly, the wish she’d made had come true. Well, part of it anyway. Even if it was only coincidence. But right now, in this moment, she was entranced by the smile of a stranger, the taste of warm thick coffee relaxing her throat, and the sweet softness of the cake as it danced around her tastebuds.

  ‘Did you go to the Jazz Festival last weekend?’ The man widened his eyes, raising his voice and slowing his speech.

  She mustn’t have heard him the first time. ‘Oh, um, no I didn’t. I was away,’ Sylvia replied.

  ‘You missed out, it was brilliant! The whole town was alive, music everywhere, and the weather was perfect.’ He took another sip of his seemingly endless cup of dandy-whatever.

  ‘I’m sure it was. Anyway, the markets are on this Sunday, they’re always good too.’

  ‘Maybe I’ll see you there.’ The man smiled his charming smile again.

  ‘Maybe.’ Sylvia found herself twisting a curl of her hair, just like Grace had done today.

  Getting only five hours of sleep didn’t deter Sylvia from following her usual morning routine the next day. She rose at seven when the beep of her alarm clock hijacked a dream in which she was back at hospital as a sixteen-year-old, and her baby was too heavy to lift. Everyone laughed as she tried with all her might to lift Grace up, and as the alarm sounded, she thought it was meant to warn everyone in the hospital that she was unequipped to be a mother.

  Sylvia shook the absurd dream from her mind as she got out of bed and changed into her swimsuit before swimming thirty laps in her backyard pool.

  This morning ritual started when she moved into the house a few years ago, and every day, bar heavy rain or freezing weather, she’d swim laps. Sylvia loved the feeling of the cool water enveloping her skin, the gentle silky pressure as her hands pushed through the water, and the repetition that helped her mind prepare for the day ahead.

  Afterwards, she’d take a quick shower, eat breakfast, do her hair and make-up and get dressed in one of her ten work outfits. Friday’s combination was a burgundy short-sleeved cotton shirt teamed with cream-coloured wide-leg pants. Next Friday would be slightly different. She’d wear the same pants but with a navy version of the same shirt.

  Sylvia liked that she never had to wonder what to wear each day. Five different outfits were washed, ironed, and ready to wear by Monday morning, hanging on wooden hangers labelled with a day of the week. She estimated that other women who weren’t as organised as her probably wasted an average of 60.66 hours per year deciding what to wear. That was enough time for a solid week of work, or a relaxing holiday!

  At precisely eight-fifteen, she’d lock the house, wave to Nancy Dillinger peering through her window, and walk to work. Fifteen minutes there and back each day, combined with her morning swim, was enough exercise to maintain her figure. Although she’d probably have to add in a session at the gym to counteract last night’s cake and coffee. But she was making up for last night’s binge by eating a healthy albeit a little overripe banana while walking to work.

  ‘Good morning,’ said a bright-eyed Joyce when Sylvia opened the door to the clinic. It always seemed as if Joyce was a permanent fixture behind the reception desk, or at least on her chair, which rolled here and there as she manoeuvred her way around the desks and filing cabinets without needing to stand.

  Ironically, Joyce chose that moment to stand. ‘Here’s your mail.’ She placed the envelopes into Sylvia’s unoccupied hand and followed her towards the hallway. ‘And I’d like you to meet our new practitioner, Mark Bastian.’ Joyce gestured towards the spare room where a man was kneeling down, opening a cardboard box on the floor. Sylvia had forgotten the new guy was settling in today.

  At Joyce’s introduction, he stood and turned, his blue eyes meeting Sylvia’s, the halogen lights adding a glow to his warm coffee-coloured skin.

  Oh God! Sylvia’s face flushed with warmth.

  ‘We meet again,’ Mark said, holding out his hand and grinning.

  All Sylvia could do was nod, tucking the envelopes under her armpit in order to give a limp shake of his hand. If she hadn’t gone out last night in her moment of heartbreak, she wouldn’t have met him, and they would have been introduced today without any fuss. But she’d let her professional guard down and somehow she felt…exposed.

  ‘You two know each other?’ Joyce glanced from Sylvia’s face to Mark’s and back again, waiting for a response.

  Chapter 7

  ‘Well, not really, but —’ Sylvia began, until the awkward introduction was gratefully interrupted by a knocking on the front door. The clinic wasn’t due to open for another twenty minutes or so, but a frantic looking mother holding a screaming baby begged to be let in.

  The screaming amplified when Joyce unlocked the door, putting an arm around the mother and ushering her towards Sylvia’s room. It was Marisa, a single mother Sylvia had been treating since she got pregnant unexpectedly a year ago.

  So much for a relaxing coffee before the onslaught of patient arrivals.

  ‘I don’t know what’s wrong, he won’t stop crying!’ Marisa said above the screaming. ‘I’ve fed him, changed him, and cuddled him. Can you help?’ Marisa’s eyes were moist and her chin quivered.

  Sylvia did her best to examine the little one as he squirmed around. ‘When was his last bowel movement?’ She palpated his abdomen.

  ‘A couple of hours ago I think, and last night.’

  ‘But no diarrhoea?’

  ‘No.’

  The baby winced as Sylvia placed the cold stethoscope on his abdomen. Nothing wrong there, although his little stomach muscles pulsed in and out from the crying. She placed a hand on his warm forehead, his face and neck red as he wailed. ‘I’ll check his temperature,’ Sylvia said, turning to get the digital thermometer. She instructed Marisa to hold him still while she tugged his ear backwards and inserted the end of the thermometer. It wouldn’t go through all the way, so she pulled it out and shone a pen light into the baby’s ear.

  ‘I know why your baby is crying, Marisa.’ Sylvia turned the pen light off momentarily and smiled. Marisa looked at her hopefully. ‘He has a bug of some kind trapped in his ear canal.’

  ‘Oh my God! Can you get it out?’ Marisa forced a look into her baby’s ear, then turned away, scrunching up her nose.

  ‘Shouldn’t be a problem, as long as we keep him as still as possible.’ Sylvia looked at Marisa in a way that said, ‘Are you ready
for this?’ Marisa held one hand tightly around the boy’s head, and the other around his wriggly legs. Sylvia placed a headlight cap on her head to light the area, and moved in for the kill with a pair of tweezers. Screams engulfed the room, and Sylvia’s eardrums vibrated. She worked quickly, removing pieces of what looked like a beetle, until the canal was clear.

  ‘All done.’ Sylvia disposed of the remains and had one last look in his ear. ‘There’s a bit of redness, but the eardrum is still intact so he shouldn’t need antibiotics. I’ll give you a prescription for some ear drops though.’

  Marisa nodded as her baby’s cries turned into whimpers. He took a few quick breaths in sharp succession before breathing out a heavy sigh, the corners of his mouth turned upside down. She patted the side of his face and kissed his forehead. ‘It’s all over, pumpkin.’

  Marisa thanked Sylvia profusely, and apologised for barging in early without an appointment. Sylvia waved her apologies away. ‘That’s what I’m here for, and if he has any more trouble, let me know.’

  Marisa walked out just as the first patient of the day walked in.

  By one o’clock Sylvia was able to retreat to the staff kitchen and unwrap a sandwich she’d brought for lunch. Her time alone was brief, as Joyce walked in.

  ‘Your next patient cancelled, so you can take a few more minutes break if you like.’

  ‘Oh, thank goodness.’ Sylvia ran her fingers through her thick curls. ‘Thanks for letting me know, Joyce.’

  Joyce walked out, then popped her head back in. ‘Are you okay?’

  ‘Me? I’m fine, why do you ask?’

  ‘You look a bit tired that’s all, and you’ve seemed a little…distracted today.’