Fools Rush In

by Lilliana Anderson

  “I had to make up a six-year-old boy who lost his fight with leukaemia the other day. It felt so wrong to be preparing someone so small. The only thing that working with the dead has taught me is that life is fragile. It can be over in the blink of an eye, so we have to live our best one. We owe it to all the people who didn’t make it this far.”

  He nodded slowly, his brow creased in thought. “It just doesn’t feel real, you know?”

  I placed my hand on his thigh and my head on his shoulder.

  “I know. I’m so sorry you lost your brother, Sam,” I said, shocked he was gone. I didn’t have a huge amount of contact with Nate, and he wasn’t really my favourite person, but that didn’t mean I didn’t feel his loss. I hurt for the absence of a heart beating in this world. For the loss of a brother, a son, my friend’s husband. “It’s OK to say sorry in this instance, isn’t it?”

  He kissed the top of my head. “Yeah. It’s OK.”

  “When’s the funeral?”

  “I don’t know. We only found out early this morning. I kind of flipped out and came to you as soon as I could get away.”

  “Do you think we should go back? Make sure they’re all OK?”

  He moved slightly so he could see my expression. “We?”

  I nodded. “You’re all grieving. I want to help. If you think they’ll let me.”

  “They’ll let you. They’ve missed you. You’re still a part of the family.”

  “Then why did you send all my things addressed to my maiden name?”

  “Because you had to sign for them, and we never officially changed your name on your ID.”

  Tears hit the back of my eyes. “What? I thought it was because you never wanted to see me again.”

  His eyes went wide. “No,” he breathed. “We were just giving you space and the time to choose to come back on your own.”

  “You thought I’d come back without hearing those three massive words?”

  He gave me a mournful half smile. “I kind of hoped you would. But I’m glad you didn’t. We needed this time to realise that what we had was the real deal. The kind of love that makes you physically sick without the other person.”

  I nodded. “You got skinny.”

  He chucked me under the chin. “So did you. But my God, you’re beautiful whatever way you come.”

  Taking a deep breath, I tried not to cry again. I had him back. “Let’s go home.”

  Packing an overnight bag with a few things, Sam and I headed out to the van and adjusted the seat configuration so his bike could fit in. Then I handed him the keys and he hugged me tight against his chest. “I can’t believe it took my brother dying to make me say I love you.”

  “I can’t believe you didn’t fall in love with me instantly,” I said with a sad smile.

  “Is that when you fell for me?”

  “Honestly?”

  “Yes. No more games.”

  “Yes. The moment you smiled at me, I was smitten.”

  If it was possible, he managed to hug me tighter. “God, I love you. How did I get so lucky to find you?”

  “I suppose we should thank Holland. She’s the reason I was there.”

  “And Nate,” he whispered, his voice growing hoarse.

  “And Nate.” Pulling back a little, I took the keys from his hand. “I think I’ll drive. You rest.”

  Before going back to Torquay, I took a slight detour past my father’s house. Since I was only just starting on speaking terms with him again, I didn’t want to ruin that by disappearing without explanation again.

  “You’re talking to your dad again?” Sam asked, and I nodded.

  “It took a couple of months, but he ended up telling us what happened to my mother, and that opened the lines of communication.”

  “Your mother? What happened to her?”

  “She overdosed. But I found out that she left because she was mentally ill. The drugs were kind of a side effect. It doesn’t really fix things, but it provides some context.”

  “I’m sorry,” he said, brushing his fingers against the back of my neck.

  I shrugged. “At least I have closure now.”

  The moment I unclipped my seat belt, my eyes flicked towards Holland’s aunt Maya’s place. The lights were on inside, and Holland’s car was in the driveway. While I’d skipped going over there the last time I was here, this time it wasn't about me. She’d lost the man she loved; my feelings could be pushed aside.

  “I just want to go next door first and check on Holland. Want to come inside, or do you need a moment to yourself?”

  “I’ll wait in the van. I’m not capable of playing nice right now.”

  “I understand.” I leaned over and gave him a parting kiss. He held on for a little longer, then let out his breath. “I love you so much, peaches.”

  “I love you too.”

  Despite our circumstances, it felt so good to be finally saying it.

  Walking up the footpath, I took a deep breath and knocked on Maya’s door. She answered it dressed in a terry robe with her hair and make-up done from the office. She was in her late fifties now, with hair more grey than blonde. She had sharp honey-coloured eyes like Holland, and the wit to match. She smiled when she saw me. “Alesha. It’s been so long.”

  “It has,” I agreed. “I heard about Nate. Is Holland OK?”

  Her expression flickered with confusion before resetting itself into the picture of concern. “Oh, it’s terrible what happened. She’s devastated, gone away for a while to recover from the shock of it. I’m not sure when she’ll be back.”

  “Gone away? Where?”

  “Oh, a spa or something.”

  “A spa? But her car is here.”

  “In Queensland,” she added. “Shall I let her know you called in?”

  “It’s OK. I can call her. Thank you, Maya.”

  After saying our goodbyes, I walked away with a strange feeling. Why would Holland leave for a spa on the day her husband died? She loved him, and knowing her as I did, she would’ve been beside herself. It didn’t make sense.

  Heading next door to my dad’s, I blew Sam a quick kiss, then ran up the path and knocked on the door. Dad answered like he was standing there waiting—I actually wouldn’t put that past him.

  “I thought you were sick,” he said as he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. My father was in his sixties but he dressed like he lived through the Great Depression, wearing beige trousers, a white button-up shirt and a beige cardigan. There were actually a couple of women at the church who’d been after him for years, so despite his terrible fashion sense, it seemed my father was quite the catch.

  “Just a twelve-hour bug, it seems,” I lied, leaning against the doorway. When he stepped back to let me inside, I declined.

  “Does this visit have something to do with that husband of yours who’s skulking in your van?”

  “He isn’t skulking, Dad. His brother died. He’s upset.”

  His expression shifted. Having worked in a funeral home for years, he understood more than most what it meant to lose someone. “Is that why he was here this morning?”

  My eyebrows jumped together, confused. “He was here?”

  “Well, not here. Next door. He turned up in an old station wagon and left with that friend of yours.”

  “Holland? Are you sure?”

  “As sure as the stars in the sky. She left in her pyjamas right after a police car was there.”

  “She was married to Sam’s brother.”

  “I see. He’s the one who passed?”

  I nodded. “I’m going to go back to Torquay for a few days, help with funeral preparations and take care of things around the house. Can you manage without me?”

  He nodded. “Jenny’s not as good as you, but she’s got a good eye for detail.”

  “Tell her I’m thankful for her.”

  “I will. And give Sam’s family my condolences. I wouldn’t wish that kind of loss on anyone. If there’s anything we can do,
help with the funeral or advice on the best prices for flower arrangements, give us a call.”

  “Thank you, Dad. That means a lot.” I moved to leave but he called me back.

  “When Sam is feeling up to it, bring him for dinner. If you two have patched things up, I’d like to get to know him.”

  “You would?”

  He nodded. “I’m not against interfaith marriage. I was against losing my daughter. And well, like you said, my rules made me lose you anyway. I feel that in these past weeks I’ve gotten you back somewhat. I don’t want to drive you away again.”

  I flung my arms around his neck, hugging tight and probably shocking the hell out of him. “Thank you, Dad,” I whispered.

  He hugged me back. “You grew up good, baby girl.”

  I smiled, not about to set him straight on that one.

  When I got back into the van, I made a quick call to my supervisor at David Jones and let them know I needed time off for a family emergency. She was wonderfully understanding, which meant that I was able to completely focus on the man I loved. I clicked my seat belt and casually asked Sam if he went to see Holland that morning.

  He shook his head and frowned. “I came straight to you, why?”

  “No reason,” I said. “My dad thought he saw you. He must’ve been mistaken.”

  “Maybe it was Toby?”

  “Do you think he’d try to swoop in like that?”

  Sam shrugged. “I don’t think he’d swoop in. But he loves her too, so he’d want to make sure she was OK.”

  I started the engine. “You’re probably right.”

  Returning to Torquay in the wake of Nate’s death, I wasn’t sure how warm or cool my reception would be. Sam said they’d missed me, yet I worried they’d be upset that I’d been gone for so long. Jasmine could yell at me to get out. Toby could refuse to speak to me at all. And the twins might feel betrayed; they’d been the most welcoming to me, and I’d left without saying even goodbye.

  But the moment I walked through the front door and heard their voices in the back room, I felt at ease. They were sitting around drinking and telling stories about Nate, a sad warmth in all their tones.

  Sam walked ahead of me, announcing, “I got our girl back.”

  Kris and Abbot rushed me, picking me up and hugging me at the same time. “We’ve missed you, babe,” Abbot said.

  “The morning surf just hasn’t been the same,” Kris added, pinching me on the cheek.

  I touched his head. “Your hair has grown.”

  “Time for a proper haircut,” he said with a wink.

  “I like it. And I’ve missed you guys too. I just…”

  “You needed some time. We get it.” When they released me, Toby had already walked over.

  “Does this mean the team’s back together?” He looked between me and Sam, and I nodded.

  “Bonnie and Clyde ain’t got nothing on us,” I told him as he hugged me tight.

  “I’m glad you’re here. We’ve all missed you a hell of a lot.”

  When he released me, I was getting choked up. I’d expected some animosity, perhaps magnified by the freshness of their loss. But they were all just so relieved to see me, I ended up feeling guilty for leaving and convincing myself that they never really wanted me at all. There were times I really hated my brain.

  “Alesha.” I turned to the sound of Jasmine’s voice. She was sitting on the couch with her legs folded beneath her and a gin and tonic balancing on her knee. Her eyes were glassy and red-rimmed, a mixture of sorrow and alcohol. She held out her free hand. “Come and sit by me. I’ve missed having my daughter around.”

  That did it. I started crying and pretty much dashed towards her, hugging her like a little girl so desperate for a mother’s love. “I’m so sorry, Jasmine,” I whispered. “I’m sorry about Nate, sorry for leaving. I’m sorry for everything I wasn’t thankful enough for.”

  She ran her hand down the length of my hair and pushed it behind my shoulder. “Don’t be sorry. We all have our own journeys. And I knew you’d come back. I just had to wait until this knucklehead son of mine got his shit together and told you how loved you are.” She looked up at Sam, who leaned down and kissed her on the side of her head.

  “How you feeling, Ma?” That was the first time I’d ever heard him refer as anything other than Jasmine or Jazz.

  She patted his hand. “I’m OK. Just sad. We’ve been sharing stories about your brother, remembering happy times.”

  “Let’s see,” he said, sitting on the other side of her, sliding his arm around her shoulders and placing his hand on mine, effectively hugging us both at the same time. “Remember that fishing trip we took when I was about eight? You were trying to do manly things with us to make up for the fact that Dad wasn’t around anymore. We were all squabbling in the small space, and Nate kept eating food off my plate whenever I wasn’t looking. I got him back by filling his ears with Vegemite while he was sleeping.” Sam smiled, shaking his head. “He was so pissed.”

  “I remember that,” Toby said with a chuckle. “We tormented him by singing ‘Happy Little Vegemite’ for the rest of the trip.”

  “Remember that time he shot you in the eye with a water pistol full of wasabi and water?” Abbot asked, his question directed at Toby.

  Toby laughed. “How could I forget? I had to have my school picture taken the next day, and I looked like a rabbit with myxomatosis.”

  We kept going like that well into the night. And as much as the loss of Nate was hurting the Cartwright family, pulling together to remember him was the thing that was going to heal them. I knew they’d make it through. I knew Nate would always be alive in their hearts, even though his loss hurt like hell.

  It’s a shame Holland couldn’t be here to hear this. It would’ve helped her feel a little less sorrowful too.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Best Be On Your Way

  Nate’s funeral was held almost two weeks later, when the coroner released the body after ruling out any foul play. It was thought that Nate was driving away from the fire when it engulfed his car. He was unrecognisable.

  The service was far larger than I expected. It felt like everyone in Torquay knew and loved the Cartwrights and mourned along with them. Even my father was in attendance. Holland, however, was not. I didn’t know if it was because she thought she wouldn’t be welcome, but I thought she should have been there. He was her husband. She loved him. That was all that should have mattered.

  After the funeral, I tried calling her while we were gathered in a function room at the local surf club. The call went straight to voicemail, so I left a message and tried to focus on those in attendance. Despite the sombre mood, it was much like any other gathering. Drinks flowed, speeches were given and stories were shared. Nate was loved and received the perfect send-off. I wished I knew him better, as I thought I probably judged him too harshly due to our circumstances. Now it was too late to make amends.

  “I think Jazz needs some quiet,” Sam noted, watching her force yet another smile while someone else offered their condolences. She’d been so strong the entire time, refusing to be the spectacle, but now her edges were looking frayed.

  “Let me take her home,” I said. “You stay with your brothers and wrap things up here.”

  Nodding, Sam kissed the side of my head. “Drive safe,” he said. “I’ll follow as soon as I can.”

  Jasmine blew out a charged breath the moment we got into the car. “I need to go home. I need to drink myself into oblivion and wake up when this is all over.”

  I pressed my lips together in an understanding smile. I didn’t need to point out that the grieving process was never really over. Loss just got easier to live with.

  Pulling into the circular drive of the Cartwright home, I killed the engine and frowned when I could still hear it running. I looked in the rear vision and noticed a black SUV pulling in behind me.

  “Someone’s here,” I said.

  Jasmine turned around and se
t her jaw, her eyes hardening. “Stay here,” she commanded.

  I did as I was told, cracking the window and keeping an eye on her at the same time. Two men got out of the SUV. They appeared normal enough, but by the look on their faces and the set of their shoulders, I didn’t think they were there to offer their condolences. This was business.

  “I just buried my son,” Jasmine said, placing her hands on her hips. I thought that was a good move, because I’d read that folding your arms meant you were intimidated and keeping them open like that showed you wouldn’t be messed with. “This couldn’t wait for another day?”

  The smaller of the two, a man with one of those undercut hairstyles that were popular these days, was the one to speak. I assumed the bigger guy with the bald head was there as the muscle.

  “And I’m very sorry for your loss. But business doesn’t stop just because you’re sad. Your son was a big part of our business. That fire took out our best crop. That’s going to seriously affect our profits. Now we need something, I don’t know—life insurance, the proceeds from his estate—to help us cover our loss.”

  Oh. I knew who they were. These were the guys Nate was in bed with. The drug dealers.

  “I don’t have any control over that. He was married, so everything legally goes to his wife.”

  “Is that her?” The drug lord nodded towards the van, and the muscle came straight for me. I didn’t really know what went through my head in that moment, but I unclipped my seat belt and jumped out of the car before he could reach me. Like I wanted to be ready or something.

  “No. His wife wasn’t at the funeral. I don’t know where she is.”

  The muscle grabbed me by the arm anyway and jostled me over to his boss.

  “That’s a pretty ring you’re wearing there, sweetheart. Who gave it to you?”

  “Your dad when I was sitting on his face,” I responded. “I’m your stepmum now.” The words shocked me more than anyone else. It seemed when confronted with a situation where I felt in danger, I got really mouthy. The drug dudes found my response mildly amusing, but not amusing enough to let my arm go.