by Lea Darragh
‘Nick?’ I murmured into the darkness at around ten o’clock.
‘Hmmmm.’
‘I’m hungry.’
In the kitchen we moved with each other as one, heating up Grandma Lily’s chicken and vegetable soup, toasting thick, café style bread and pouring juice into tall flutes.
We ate in comfortable, marital silence, as if we’d been married for fifty years and either had nothing left to say, or just didn’t need to fill the air with mindless conversation.
He really is just like my Dad. I observed the way Nick ate as if he was alone, and for a minute this irritated me: the fact that he didn’t make an effort talk to me. But as the silence continued, I realised that I didn’t want to talk either. It was nice to be somewhere I belonged, with someone I belonged to, without having to speak a word of reassurance or support.
‘What are you doing?’ Nick asked as I slipped from the bar stool and walked to the phone on the wall beside the side door.
I began to dial. ‘Calling Lucy.’
‘No!’ he yelled before he could stop himself.
‘Why not?’ I asked as my finger remained poised at the key pad.
‘Just leave it,’ he said in a quieter voice as he slipped from his own stool and met me at the side door. He coaxed the phone from my hesitant but then willing grasp. ‘We’re having a relaxing evening. Let’s not get caught up in messy problems that have nothing to do with us.’
‘Ok…’
‘Come on. Let’s finish with our meal so that I can take you back to bed.’
The following morning, I watched from the comfort of our warm, dishevelled, overworked bed as Nick pulled on his freshly pressed Lees. His white Bonds singlet was next to cover his lean, toned body. And that was followed by a starched white shirt. His dark wavy hair was still wet from the shower and it flopped as he reached for his navy blue, cord, tailored jacket and then shrugged it on.
It was Monday morning, and Nick was preparing for an important meeting with Taylor’s Construction, the company that would hopefully be commissioned to begin work on the restaurant; that is, if this morning’s meeting went as well as Nick expected it to.
‘You’re a fine sight to wake up to, Nicholas Mathieson, deliciously enticing husband of mine,’ I crooned as he sat on the edge of the bed next to me and pulled on his black Colorado’s.
‘As are you, angel.’
I could reach him easily from my lying position, and I slowly walked two fingers from his waist and up his side. I pushed myself onto my elbow and the duvet fell slightly, revealing the top of my swollen breasts. I rested my head against his bicep and drew in a mesmerised breath.
‘You smell good too,’ I exhaled slowly, savouring his musky, soapy scent. My fingers continued their exploring journey around to his chest then slowly made their way down the front of his shirt to his belt buckle. ‘Are you in a hurry?’ I murmured, low and seductively. ‘Or do you have time to play with your wife?’
Nick finished tying his second lace and consulted his watch.
‘I’m already late, sorry,’ he said, seemingly unaffected by my seduction. He leaned toward me and kissed my mouth. ‘Though, you have no idea how tempted I am to ravish you this instant,’ he added huskily.
So, not that unaffected then?
‘Mmmmm. You’re right.’ My fingers travelled south of his belt and his kiss deepened as I began to rub him as he hardened.
‘You’re insatiable,’ he groaned against my lips.
‘You’ve created a monster.’
He placed a hand on my wrist and gently removed it, standing from the bed to extricate himself from the alluring situation. He ran his fingers through his hair to neaten it, and to keep his tempted hands busy. I slumped, seemingly defeated, back onto my pillows.
‘I really am late.’
‘It’s only seven thirty and your meeting is not until nine. I know that you love to take your thorough time with me, but I really do think there’s ample time for a quick morning ravish.’
He shook his head. ‘Sorry.’
‘You know I’m naked under here, right?’
He took only one step toward me and then stopped himself. ‘And I’m absolutely positive that if I inspect under those covers, that I will never get to this meeting on time.’
‘I’m sure they’ll wait—’
In an instant he was on me. His hands took their cue from his disobedient feet and explored under the covers, finding my naked hip…followed by my naked bottom…soft flesh…
I grabbed a fistful of his shirt and pulled him back to my mouth, and I thought that I had finally succeeded in persuading him to stay a while longer as I heard a low groan vibrate from his throat. But the celebration was slightly premature.
‘I really have to go,’ he said between kisses.
‘No, you don’t.’
He kissed me once more before pushing himself off the bed.
‘I really do, Cate. However, I am putting this on pause until tonight. I can promise you that.’
‘Well, that makes me feel a whole lot less rejected.’ I thickened my words with sarcasm to equal my sarcastic, rolling eyes.
He reached for his wallet and keys that were on the tallboy opposite.
‘You’ve never said no to me before,’ I said with a questioning tone. Nick said nothing as he took the few steps back to the bed and kissed me quickly.
‘I’ll be back by lunch.’
Before I knew it he was gone.
What the bloody hell was that all about?
‘You’re just in time for lunch. And why on earth are your clothes so wet? It stopped raining hours ago.’
I had just plated up a pile of hot, buttered English muffins as Nick opened the side door. I delivered them to the set dining table where seven steaming bowls of chicken and vegetable soup awaited seven hungry workers — including myself of course — as Nick removed his wet Colorados and left them by the door. I walked over and smacked a kiss on his cheek.
‘That’s not say that I don’t love you all rugged and wet, but let’s take this off before you drip all over the floors.’ I helped him shrug out of his jacket before he took his place at the head of the table without so much as a greeting. I rang the meal time bell just outside the side door, summoning our employees to lunch. ‘You’re very quiet. Is everything alright?’
I could feel Nick’s eyes on me as I sashayed around the kitchen retrieving last-minute touches to the hearty meal that I had created.
‘You’re a summer breeze,’ was all he said.
‘And you look like you’ve been caught in a hurricane, which brings us back to the question that you didn’t answer.’
‘Which question?’
I eyed him curiously as I sat to his left, adding the salt and cracked pepper to the centre of the table. ‘It doesn’t matter. How was your meeting?’
He picked up the basket holding the hot muffins, offering me one. ‘It didn’t go as well as I expected.’
‘Not waiting for the others to join us first? What happened?’
‘Nothing. Just off my game I think,’ he said as he placed the basket, untouched, back onto the dining table.
‘You did seem a little distracted this morning. So, how does this affect our chances of opening the restaurant?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Well, you’ve been telling me that this meeting was the first step toward expanding the business.’
‘Oh right. Well, it really didn’t go that badly, just not as well as I thought it would.’
My curiosity built as I eyed him again. ‘Are you going to elaborate or keep me guessing? You’re being a little vague, Nick.’
The sound of work boots as they thudded up onto the veranda, then being kicked off and left at the door, was a distraction that Nick obviously appreciated as he visibly relaxed.
Blake was the first through the French side door. He took the seat next to me as the others spread themselves around the accommodating dining table. ‘What is tha
t delicious smell?’ he said as he drew in a long deep breath.
‘My roasted pumpkin and garlic soup,’ I said with pride. ‘Well, actually, my Grandma Lily’s recipe. It dates back through generations of Alexanders.’
He took another investigatory sniff. ‘No. It smells of something else. Something sweeter…’
I shrugged, knowing very well that the lovely scent was my body wash, and Nick’s absolute favourite.
Blake took another sniff, this time boldly leaning toward me. ‘Vanilla, that’s it. Does that date back generations, too? Thanks.’ He winked as he took the basket of muffins as it was being passed around the table.
I kept my tone polite but, as much as I could muster, uninviting. ‘It probably does, but through the Johnson family I suspect.’
‘So, how’d things run out there this morning?’ Nick broke the to and fro between his employee and his wife.
‘Fine, Boss,’ Blake gave him a nod.
‘All those pallets have been cut up?’
‘Yeah, all done.’ Then he added after taking a spoon full of soup, ‘They’ll do alright in the pot belly I noticed in Cate’s office.’
‘That’s why I asked you to do it. I don’t want Mrs Mathieson to freeze out there, do I? You know what they say, happy wife, happy life.’
Around the table, hospitable chatter and the clinking as spoons as they scooped up the soup quietened for a moment. They understood the mistake Blake had made to fraternise with the boss’s wife; Seth worked at the winery for a short while, but he liked me a little too much and Nick was none too impressed by it. They all knew that it was in their best interests to keep clear of me, and to speak to me only when they were spoken to.
To Kevin — the winery’s second in charge — Nick said, ‘So, Dad’s coming by this afternoon to help me step out some plans for the restaurant. Can you give us a hand?’
‘No worries. But, the cellar still needs to be hosed out and the floors need to be scrubbed.’
‘Blake can handle that I’m sure, right Blake?’
‘You’re the boss,’ Blake said with a soldier’s salute.
‘Good.’
‘So things are still going as planned? The meeting really didn’t go too disappointingly then.’ I renewed our earlier conversation.
‘Oh no, it was disappointing, but there’s no reason why we can’t still get the ball rolling.’
‘Then why so glum?’
Nick eyed the blokes around the table, especially Blake, who’d just choked on his soup and then forced an amused grin from his face.
Nick said in a hushed tone, ‘I’m not glum. Can we will talk about this later?’
‘We certainly will be.’
Lunch had all been inhaled and everybody had left the homestead to get on with a hard afternoon’s work, leaving me to continue with my own daily duties: wiping up after messy men who were more suited to a pig trough than a dining table set with fine china and freshly pressed Egyptian table linen.
Today was no different.
However, instead of working to the beat of a satiated heart, I could feel a shift in Nick’s mood. He knew every detail about how to make his plans for the winery and for the restaurant come to fruition; even if a brick wall confronted him, he could always find a loophole or solution that would enable things to go his way. So why did the brick wall that he’d hit this morning seem impenetrable to him?
The fact is, I understood that this morning’s mood suppressant had nothing to do with the winery. Albert had informed me that the meeting had been rescheduled for Thursday morning, and had asked could he come earlier this morning to go through the floor plans for the restaurant because he got so fatigued by mid-afternoon.
Albert still attended the important meetings regarding the winery; it was after all his baby, he’d built it from the ground up, he just wasn’t as hands-on like he used to be. After his health scare last year his weak heart would never forgive him for anything more strenuous than a walk to the letterbox. I had to tell him that Nick wasn’t home so coming over would be a waste of his limited energy, but that I would send Nick over to him when he returned from wherever he was to go through a few things.
So this was what I was about to do now: to see my husband to pass on the morning’s revelations, and see what he had to say about the fact that he had, for the first time ever, lied to me.
I finally found him on his knees in the office, reloading the pot-belly with perfectly sized pieces of hardwood palings from disused pallets. He dragged in a breath before blowing it gently into the pot belly, giving the smouldering fire the ammunition to flare again.
I sat behind my desk and then flipped through some new invoices.
‘I’ll have to give Marco a call,’ I said as he continued to blow on the embers. ‘I’m sure I paid the invoice for the irrigation last week.’
‘It was almost out,’ Nick said as the fire finally caught and he closed the door on the pot belly, opening the vent at the bottom to let ample oxygen in. He came to stand next to me and picked up the invoice. ‘You haven’t made an oversight?’
I looked up at him and took the invoice from his hand without breaking eye contact. ‘I don’t make oversights, Nick.’
Our eyes remained locked for a moment before I looked away and picked up the phone. I started dialling Marco’s number. ‘I’m sure I can clear this right up.’
‘I’m sure you can,’ Nick said as he made to leave.
‘If you’ve got a minute, I’d like to talk about this morning,’ I said before he stepped out.
He consulted his watch as he hovered in the doorway. ‘Dad will be here soon. We’ll talk tonight, ok?’
‘He called this morning to cancel this afternoon’s plans.’
Nick visibly paled. ‘He did?’
‘Uh huh. But he did say that he can still make the meeting on Thursday morning, you know, the one with Taylor’s Construction that you rescheduled from this morning?’
I almost felt sick for him. ‘Oh, right.’
I replaced the handset and stood from the desk.
‘So you’ve got time then?’
‘I guess I do.’
Chapter 17
I honestly didn’t know what to expect from him when we sat on our bed to talk. It most definitely was not this. I was stunned into silence; how was I expected to react to, and then process, such horrific news?
‘I didn’t know what else to do, Cate. I’m so sorry that I lied to you.’
I remained quiet as I tried to wrap my head around this. An abortion? I wasn’t shocked at the fact that Lucy would have resorted to that; I was shocked that she had let herself get into such an unsought situation in the first place. Did she not use contraception? Did she not take all precautions to prevent such a tragic outcome?
As I sat on our bed where Nick and I had spent countless hours trying to make a baby of our own — and had cried countless tears, with Lucy, despairing at the fact that it just wasn’t happening for us — anger built from the pit of my stomach, pushing the bitter taste of bile into the back of my throat.
‘This is just so fucking unbelievable!’ I said to no one in particular, the words soiling my otherwise characteristically clean language.
‘It is,’ Nick dutifully agreed.
‘Oh, don’t you say a word to me right now. I can’t believe that you hid this from me!’
I had to get off our bed that was being tainted by such ugly words. I crossed the room purposefully, heading for the ensuite.
‘Cate, let’s talk about this,’ he urged as I slammed the door behind me; the impact of the door hitting the frame threw a wedding portrait hung on the adjacent wall out of alignment. At the vanity I opened and then slammed shut the cupboards and drawers. Opening the door again, with hot tears streaming down my face, I began hurling boxes at his feet.
‘See these, Nick?’ I opened a drawer and threw another box out. ‘This is everything we use to help us make a baby. Ovulation kits,’ I threw them out before opening
the next drawer, ‘pregnancy tests. Thermometers. Vitamins. Creams.’ I threw it all out one by one, a couple of them ricocheting off his shins. ‘See all of this effort, all of this…this wanting to have a baby?’
He stood from the bed as he saw me crumple slightly. He moved toward me and my body enclosed around itself as the pain constricted my chest. Slowly, tentatively; as if I were a caged animal ready to attack, he approached me.
‘I’m so sorry, Cate. I know how horrible this is.’
‘No, you don’t know, Nick! Otherwise you would have no part in this!’
‘You need to calm down.’
‘Calm down! Are you honestly telling me to calm down? Your friend had an abortion this morning knowing very well that that innocent child was not entirely unwanted, and you, my ever loyal husband, helped her! It would be nice if your loyalty remained with your wife instead of that, that…’ I was breathing hard, my accusing eyes boring into him. When I spoke again, my voice was low and deliberate. ‘Did you for one second think of the fact that you could have saved that baby’s life, instead of helping to kill it?’
‘Alright, Cate. That’s enough!’ He grasped my elbow and pulled me back to the bed, holding me in place when I fought to get up. ‘Just take a breath and try to calm yourself, because I won’t sit here and listen to you accuse me of being so fucking heartless. What else was I supposed to do?’
My next few heaving breaths as Nick continued to hold me took me from furious to just deeply sad; my tears fell fast and helplessly.
‘Oh, Cate, I’m so sorry. Come here.’ Nick pulled me into him but I used all of remaining energy to push myself off him.
‘Don’t touch me.’
He sat mute, wounded by my rejection.
‘Is everything alright up here?’ Nick’s head whipped around to the entrance of the bedroom.
‘You shouldn’t be up here, Blake.’ Nick reprimanded. ‘You know that.’
‘I heard yelling.’ He eyed me. ‘Are you alright?’
‘You’re crossing a line. Now get the fuck out of my house!’ Nick reiterated as he let go of me and stood from the bed, obscuring Blake’s investigative search of his wife’s emotional state as I lay down, continuing to cry. ‘This has nothing to do with you.’