Blurring the Line

by Nicola Marsh

  "As long as I'm not traipsing round the world to find it, right?"

  She laughed at my droll response. "Just because I'm a sap for wanting my only child to take over my business, doesn't mean I'm going to pressure you into doing it."

  "No, you'll just lay a guilt trip on me instead."

  We smiled at each other and I finally understood the power of unconditional love and what it could do.

  Mum had given up her home and potentially a budding career in any of the major Melbourne hospitals to establish a new life in a new town to keep my dad safe. And I couldn't even stay in a city long enough to make any kind of connection for fear of … what?

  I hadn't wanted to be trapped in one place like my dad and end up unhappy for years before I died. But Mum had tossed that theory on its head, so what was my excuse now? Worse, I'd thrown away a real shot at happiness with Annabelle because of my stupid, irrational fears.

  Maybe I should finally admit I could be more like Mum: a go-getter who made things happen, who didn’t wallow, who fought for what she believed in.

  "Don't worry, that sweet girl Annabelle will be settling here for good soon so I can groom her to take over the reins one day."

  My chest constricted at the mention of Annabelle. "She's coming back here?"

  "She's already here. Studying for a week before she heads to Melbourne for final exams, but yeah, after that she wants to live here," Mum said, oblivious to my thundering heart. "She'll be a good fit for the clinic."

  "Yeah," I said, my rote response garnering a knowing smile from Mum.

  "She had a crush on you once—"

  "Mum …" I used the same warning tone I'd used many times in my late teens and she wanted to match-make me with every eligible female in town in the vain hope I'd put down roots.

  She held up her hands in surrender. "Hey, can't blame me for trying."

  I chuckled but it sounded forced. "It's good to be home." I kissed her on the cheek and stood, needing to get some air and process everything I'd just heard, including the bombshell that Annabelle was currently here, next door, within touching distance if I so desired. And man, did I desire. "I'm taking a walk."

  "Takeaway Thai okay for dinner?"

  "Uppity-Doo has Thai now?"

  "This place has a lot of new, progressive stuff," she said, sounding surprisingly solemn. "You just need to open your eyes to appreciate it."

  Wise words. I wanted to appreciate Annabelle but sadly, courtesy of how badly I'd stuffed up with her, I had no idea how to do it.

  Chapter 18

  JOEL

  I walked. Following the dirt trail skirting the town, absorbing the changes like a blind man who’d finally had the blinkers ripped from his eyes.

  Mum was right. So much had changed. And I wasn't just talking about the multicultural restaurants and day spa.

  Learning the truth about my dad made me re-evaluate everything. I was exactly like him, but not in the way I'd thought. I too was living in fear. Fear of living. Sounded like an oxymoron but it was true. I worked. I travelled. I socialized. But when was the last time I made a connection with anything? Putting down roots wasn't about staying in one place for longer than a few months. It was about being willing to take a risk in growing attached. A risk I'd never been willing to take.

  Until now.

  I'd fucked up with Annabelle. Hell, I'd freaked after she'd asked me a simple question if I had any intention of returning home. Would she be willing to listen to me now? Or would she take one look at the emotional cripple trying to explain away my pathetic behavior and tell me to get stuffed?

  Only one way to find out.

  I followed the river back home, mentally rehearsing what I'd say when I saw her and falling short. The words jumbled in my head so what hope did I have of making sense standing in front of her?

  The river wound its way behind our houses and as I rounded the final bend near home I saw her. Sitting on a flat rock. Books spread before her. Hair in plaits. White tank. Cut-off denim shorts. Brow furrowed. I absorbed these details in less than a second, because in the next second I was too busy worrying about the pain in my chest.

  Maybe I'd inherited more than fear from my dad? Maybe I'd inherited his dodgy heart too, because the ache spreading through my chest sure as hell felt like a heart attack. I couldn't breathe either and I stopped, bent over and braced my hands on my thighs, focusing on breathing in and out.

  She’d literally taken my breath away. And that ache in my chest? Had to be the uncharacteristic intensity of feeling the moment I’d seen her again.

  The pain subsided and I straightened, risking another peek at Annabelle. God, she was gorgeous. The sun highlighted golden glints in her auburn hair, the rich red a beacon in the Australian bush surrounding her.

  In the past I’d seen her countless times in this spot, doing the exact same thing. Absentmindedly twisting the end of a plait, her gaze darting from book to book as if she wouldn't have enough hours to absorb everything. Her focus and intensity making me flounder, as if I was out of my depth.

  I watched her, realizing something had changed. When I looked at Annabelle now, I wasn't bogged down by fear: fear of growing too attached, fear of being asked to deliver things I wasn't prepared to give, fear of being tied to one person, one place.

  In fact, seeing Annabelle now brought an inner peace I'd never imagined let alone was willing to acknowledge and accept.

  Uppity-Doo had changed and so had I. All the negative connotations I'd held about this place faded as I realized something: the comfort of being attached to anything, anyone, could outweigh the fear of being trapped.

  And if seeing Annabelle again made me feel like this, she could trap me any time she liked.

  I strode toward her, filled with a confidence I hoped wasn't misplaced. As the eucalypt leaves crunched underfoot, she glanced up.

  Her mouth dropped open as she leaped nimbly to her feet and stared at me like I was an apparition. One she wasn't pleased to see.

  I stopped a few feet away. "Hey." Way to go with the scintillating opening.

  She planted her hands on her hips and frowned, hostility radiating off her. "What the hell are you doing here?"

  Chapter 19

  ANNABELLE

  I was beyond rattled. Couldn't hear my thoughts because my heart pounded hard and loud, echoing in my head.

  One minute I'd been studying, the next Joel stood in front of me. Looking annoyingly gorgeous in dark denim, grey polo and a bewildering expression of hope and astonishment.

  "Can we talk?" Without waiting for my agreement, he sat on a nearby rock, staring at the river as if it held all the answers. I wished.

  Feeling increasingly edgy and grouchy and out of my depth, I half-crumpled into sitting on my rock. "Only if you tell me why the prodigal son has returned."

  Stupid, eternally optimistic me half-hoped he'd say 'because of you.'

  "Some of the stuff you said to me in Denver resonated and I needed to see Mum." He swiveled to face me, depriving me of precious seconds needed to wipe my shocked expression. "I have to thank you for that."

  If his appearance here hadn't stunned me enough, his admission did. He'd actually paid attention to what I'd said?

  "I don't want your thanks," I said, waving it away like a pesky fly.

  "Then what do you want?"

  Many things, him being top of the list, but I was done making a fool of myself over this guy. He'd had his chance, twice. And he'd blown it.

  I pointed at my books. "I want to study in peace. Pass my exams."

  "And work with Mum," he said, annoyingly imperturbable despite my rudeness. "She told me you'd chatted."

  "It's a good job offer." I shrugged. "I'm luckier than most new grads, not having to do the interview route."

  "You'll work well together, you're both great physios."

  "Thanks." I made a grand show of glancing at my watch. "Is there anything else? Because I really do need to study—"

  "I'm moving
home for a while." He rubbed the back of his neck, adorably bashful. "And I was hoping we could hang out."

  My heart stopped. I swear it did, before doing this weird jumpstart thing that snatched my breath and made me see stars.

  "Hang out?" was all I could manage between dragging in lungfuls of air.

  "Date." He grinned and damned if my heart didn't flip-flop again. "Get to know each other without an expiry date like in Denver."

  My dream scenario. Dating Joel. At home.

  So why wasn't I doing cartwheels?

  I knew, because guys like Joel didn't change overnight. The nomad would stay for a while, before doing what he did best. Move on. I knew what had brought this one too. After being away four years, he'd set foot in town, seen his mum and was feeling nostalgic. I got it, I really did. But that didn't mean I had to lose my mind and hand my heart over to him, again.

  I'd fallen hard for Joel this time around. Hard enough to know I wouldn't be okay with his fly-by attention while it lasted. I'd seen what that had done to Mum, with Dad travelling for work constantly. I wanted more than that. I deserved more than that.

  "That sounds nice, but I'm not really interested. These exams are important to me and I need to focus." I picked up the nearest text and clutched it to my chest like a shield.

  I glimpsed fear in his beautiful indigo eyes. "I didn't mean now. Later, after you've finished and come back here to work—"

  "I said no." Three little words I'd never imagined saying to him, ever. "Look, Joel, you know I care about you. But you're not a keeper. You'll hang around here for a while 'til you get bored, then you'll move on and I'm not willing to take a chance on you again."

  The truth tumbled out and my gut twisted as his expression morphed from hope to devastation. Bile rose in my throat so I did the only thing possible.

  I ran.

  Chapter 20

  JOEL

  It had been a week since Annabelle had run from me.

  And I'd let her.

  Because everything she'd said was true. I wasn't a keeper. I did bolt if the going got tough. I was the least dependable guy when it came to her heart.

  But instead of giving up as I usually would, I did the opposite and focused on the most important thing she'd said: 'I care about you.'

  Annabelle cared. I could work with that.

  So I did the hardest thing I'd ever had to do: gave her space.

  I didn't want to fuck up her exams so I avoided her, biding my time, watching from my upstairs window as she stashed a wheelie suitcase and backpack in her mum's car to head to the station.

  Ideally, I would've loved to drive her to Melbourne but the last thing she needed was to be holed up in a car with me, when I'd be hard pressed not to blurt how much I wanted her.

  Chivalrous to the end, I watched the car until it was out of sight, hanging slight hope on the fact she glanced up at my window before she got into the passenger seat. I couldn't read her expression, but the new optimist in me liked to think it was wistful, with a touch of hope.

  While I waited for her return, I helped Mum out at the clinic. More changes that blew me away. The small four-room physio clinic had morphed into a sizeable rehab center that serviced Uppity-Doo and most of the surrounding towns for a hundred kilometers in every direction.

  Working alongside Mum was a grade one physio, an occupational therapist, speech therapist, myotherapist, exercise physiologist, dietician, with weekly visiting orthopedic surgeons. It was beyond impressive. And made me realize I’d been an egotistical idiot for never considering working here because it was too 'small town'.

  After finally being in a groove working with Mum, a phone call came from an old uni lecturer, a friend who'd given me my first job in Sydney, in desperate need of my help because his locum had pulled out with a busted ankle.

  I couldn't say no, which meant I now spent night after night in a miniscule one-bedroom apartment with a distant view of the Opera House, lamenting the timing.

  Usually I'd be rapt to be locuming in the harbor city. Not this time. Instead of enjoying the culinary sensations in Paddington and Surry Hills, I ate takeaway in my apartment, thinking about Annabelle. Formulating plans and discarding them. Mooning around like a lovestruck schmuck, hoping she was thinking about me as much as I was thinking about her.

  She'd passed her exams, I knew that much courtesy of Mum. But I didn't contact Annabelle, not wanting to give her any reason to doubt me. I wanted to explain this locum stint in person, wanted to tell her it would be my last.

  For the simple fact I needed to stay put in Uppity-Doo if I was to have any chance with her. And I wanted that. Wanted to work alongside her. Wanted to talk long walks by the river. Wanted to share popcorn at the new cinema, cheer on the local footy team from the stands, have picnics in the forest. Stuff we'd done in our teens, both skirting around the fact we were crazy about each other.

  I'd had a gutful of moving around. I wanted the stability I'd never had. I wanted a relationship for the first time in my life. I wanted it all.

  With Annabelle.

  But I knew it wouldn't be easy. She hadn't believed my words, which meant action was in order. A serious declaration of my intentions. Something to prove I was in this for the long haul.

  Thankfully, I knew just the way to do it.

  Chapter 21

  ANNABELLE

  I was living the dream.

  After four long years at uni, I had a Bachelor of Applied Science in Physiotherapy. I was a fully qualified physiotherapist, working in a progressive clinic alongside equally enthusiastic health professionals. The bonus, I was doing it in my hometown, a place I loved.

  But after a week I wondered if I'd done the right thing, coming back here for good. I loved the town. I loved being close with Mum. I loved hanging out with my old friends. What I didn't love were the constant reminders of Joel.

  They were everywhere: from the river to the old general store, the bike track to the sporting ground and beyond. Uppity-Doo might've changed in many ways but where it counted, in my memory, time stood still.

  I shouldn't be feeling nostalgic, considering he'd done a runner again, proving what I'd already known: Joel was a flake.

  The stupid thing was, a small part of me had hoped he'd still be here when I got back. Sure, I knew I'd done the right thing in pushing him away, but I couldn't get it out of my head that he'd finally wanted to trial a relationship. That he'd wanted to stick around.

  Then he'd gone and done exactly what I'd expected: he'd bolted. Which made me feel stupider than ever, for being so gullible, for holding onto the faintest hope that maybe, just maybe, he’d meant what he said.

  Guys like Joel didn't change. Being commitment-phobic was inherent, as much a part of him as those damn blue eyes that wavered between aquamarine and sapphire depending on his mood.

  Kate had tried to plead his case in a subtle way, stating he was doing an old mentor a big favor by stepping in for a locum who'd been injured. I'd mumbled something about nobility and good deeds before changing the subject quickly, and thankfully she hadn't brought it up again.

  I respected Kate Goodes, but the one topic off limits between us was her son. She could mentor me at work; I didn't need more help to screw up my love life. Was doing a good enough job of that on my own.

  "Annabelle, do you have a minute?" Kate propped in the doorway to my small office, a traction belt draped around her neck, a lumbar model in one hand, elastic exercise bands in the other.

  "Sure." I beckoned her in, trying to suppress a smile. Kate always looked like a walking advertisement for her clinic, juggling apparatus as well as she did patients. "What's up?"

  "Could you do a home visit, out at the old Hodkins' farm?" She grimaced. "I was meant to do it but I'm double-booked before my hydro class."

  "Not a problem."

  "Thanks, you're a lifesaver." She darted out the door before I could ask who I'd be seeing and for what. Then again, information easily gleaned from our patient fi
les online.

  I did a quick search and couldn't find any files on the Hodkins, who from memory were a couple in their seventies. Not a problem in itself, considering I enjoyed new assessments. But I was still a newbie and liked to be prepared.

  After tidying my desk for the day, I grabbed the keys for the clinic's car, reserved solely for this purpose considering the potentially long drives to see housebound patients, and headed out the door.

  The smell of damp leaves, river moss and eucalypt hit me and I inhaled deeply, loving it just as much now as I had as a kid. Nothing signified home to me as much as Uppity-Doo's unique smell. Apart from Mum's Sunday pot roast. And those darn memories of Joel that just wouldn't quit.

  "Dumb-arse," I muttered under my breath, not quite sure if I was referring to him or me, as I slid behind the wheel.

  The drive took twenty minutes, an easy meander through the undulating hills that surrounded the town. Thanks to the trusty Sat-Nav, I turned into the gate just after five-thirty, as dusk crept across the cloudless sky.

  My favorite time of day, as mauve and rust gave way to navy before inky darkness descended. And as I crested the long dirt driveway, I almost gasped at how beautiful the whitewashed cottage perched on a knoll was, highlighted against the purple sky.

  Kate hadn't mentioned anything about dogs, something we were vigilant about before doing home visits, so I got out of the car with confidence. A confidence that dwindled as I knocked on the door repeatedly, only to be met with resounding silence.

  Ignoring the dread creeping up my spine, I followed the verandah around to the back of the house. Anything could happen to old people living this far from town: falls, fractures, heart attacks, snake bites … Clamping down on my overactive imagination, I called out, "Anyone home?"

  The silence of the Aussie bush greeted me, punctuated by the chirp of crickets and the warble of magpies settling down for the night. As I rounded the back corner of the verandah, I spied evidence that someone was indeed home. And obviously not expecting a home visit from a physiotherapist.