Sweet From the Vine

by Jacquie Underdown

  ‘Okay. I get it. I think this is what’s called building a rod for my own back?’

  ‘Yep.’

  She crouched down to Sophie’s height. ‘Hey, Soph. You want to help me put these in a big beautiful vase?’

  ‘Flowers. Mine,’ she said.

  Matilda stood, took Sophie’s hand and led her to the kitchen. ‘Come on, we’ll find a vase so we can sit them somewhere where they’ll look pretty.’

  Sophie stepped along beside her. Matilda got a vase out of her cupboard and set it on the bench. She lifted Sophie onto the bench beside the sink and let her hold the flowers while she filled the vase with water.

  Mitch watched from a distance, shoulder leaning against the wall, ankles and arms crossed.

  Matilda placed the vase on the bench beside Sophie. ‘You can put the flowers in there now.’

  Sophie pulled the flowers close to her chest and said, ‘My flowers.’

  Matilda shot a glance to Mitch. He was grinning, obviously finding this amusing.

  She pointed to the vase. ‘We put the flowers in the water so they can stay beautiful, otherwise they will get sick.’ Gently, she tried to prise the flowers from Sophie’s determined grip.

  Sophie reluctantly let them go and Matilda plopped them in the vase. ‘See how lovely they look? Now we can share them.’

  Sophie shook her head, her bottom lip dropped, and she burst in to tears. ‘My flowers.’

  Heat rose in Matilda’s cheeks as Sophie howled and tears fell down her face. Matilda lifted her off the bench so she could go to her dad and when she glanced at Mitch, he was … laughing.

  ‘How is this funny?’ she asked as Sophie ran for Mitch. ‘I feel like a big bully.’

  Mitch winked. ‘That’s her other super power. I had never felt true guilt until I became a dad.’ He hoisted Sophie up into his arms. ‘Hey,’ he said to her, not sympathetically, but assertively. ‘They are Matilda’s flowers. You have some at home, remember?’

  Sophie shoved her face into Mitch’s shoulder and howled.

  ‘I probably should never have let her hold them to start with,’ Mitch said. ‘Lesson learned.’

  Matilda shook her head but chuckled. ‘Is this how it always is?’

  He nodded. ‘One big guessing game as to what to do every second of every day.’

  Matilda laughed, enjoying his ability to approach what happened so lightly. For Matilda, it was a huge deal to have made a toddler cry, but for Mitch, as he had proven over and over, this was his ordinary everydayness.

  Despite now resembling a big flower-stealing ogre, she carried the vase out to the living room and placed it on a mantle she had over the fireplace.

  ‘They look good there,’ Mitch said.

  ‘They do. Now let’s never speak of them or how I made your daughter cry again.’

  His laugh was loud and deep.

  Matilda gave him the tour of the house, indicating all the little features that had made her snap this place up the moment she came to view it—like the hardwood timber floors throughout, the restored heritage features in the plaster work, the long claw-foot bath that was more than big enough to fit two—even Mitch’s long legs.

  Her cheeks heated when she had that thought, but she quickly hurried on from the main bathroom out to the back patio.

  ‘That view,’ Mitch said.

  ‘I know. But it’s a tad cool and I don’t have a fenced yard, so I thought, for Sophie’s comfort, we’d stay inside tonight. I downloaded ten episodes of Peppa Pig.’

  Sophie’s watery eyes found hers and she said, ‘Peppa.’

  Matilda nodded. ‘Yep.’ She didn’t mention the toy box she had bought and the toys she filled it with. Not many, but hopefully enough to keep Sophie from becoming too bored in this strange place.

  With an arch of a brow, she asked Mitch, ‘How about a gin and tonic?’

  Mitch smiled. ‘I’d love one.’

  ‘Excellent. If you want to get comfortable in the living room, I’ll make it. Then I’ll organise the Peppa Pig marathon.’

  Mitch laughed as he strode off towards the living room, Sophie still in his arms, and she to the kitchen.

  When she took the seat next to Mitch on her lounge, she had set the TV up and Sophie’s favourite cartoon was playing. Sophie sat on the soft rug, close to Mitch’s legs, but where she still had a good view of the TV.

  ‘Oh, this one. Yes, I think I’ve seen it eleven times already. Great choice,’ Mitch said as Matilda handed him his drink.

  ‘I must have known it was a special episode.’

  Mitch chuckled then swallowed a mouthful of the bitter mix. He looked at her, his face overcome with pleasure. ‘That’s a good gin and tonic.’

  She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and smiled. ‘Thank you.’

  He relaxed back against the couch with the type of relieved sigh that came at the end of a long day. ‘Thanks for agreeing to this tonight. It’s a nice change to be adulting.’

  ‘Semi-adulting. Fatherly duties still call. Maybe I should have given you the night off by suggesting we went out?’ But she had wanted to get to know Sophie too. Very early days, but if she and Mitch were going to work, it had to work with Sophie as well.

  He shook his head. ‘Honestly, this is perfect. Soph’s happy. Great drinks. It’s relaxing.’

  A cheeky smirk. ‘Oh, you plan on relaxing? Gee, and here I was expecting that you cook dinner.’

  He grinned, shrugged. ‘If that’s what it takes.’

  Her hand slid to his thigh and she squeezed it gently, not missing the hard muscle beneath her palm. ‘I’m joking. Let me take care of you tonight. I’m pretty sure that doesn’t happen very often.’

  His features softened, his lips parted, with shock, with appreciation. ‘True. It doesn’t happen at all actually. But that’s not why I asked you on a date.’

  She laughed. ‘I know that.’ She placed her drink on the coffee table in front of them and crossed her legs. It took her a moment to meet his eyes. ‘Thanks for asking me by the way. What changed your mind about us?’

  His smile was somewhat apologetic. ‘A number of things. I had a really great time with you on Sunday.’ He rubbed his chin, eyes lowered, then when he met her gaze, his grin was self-conscious. ‘I can’t stop thinking about you. And whether I want to accept it or even realise it, my life keeps moving on.’

  She nodded slowly. ‘I can’t stop thinking about you too. I’ve thought about you a lot over the last fifteen years.’

  He arched a brow, leant forward. ‘You have?’

  ‘Not all the time,’ she clarified. ‘But sometimes, I’d stop and wonder what you were up to or what was happening in your life.’ She glanced at him out the corner of her eyes and lowered her voice. ‘And whether you still hated me for leaving all those years ago.’

  His brow furrowed as he shook his head. ‘I never ever hated you. I was heartbroken, sure. Confused, yes. Maybe even a little angry. But I never hated you.’

  Her chin tilted with the sudden bashfulness she felt. She pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. ‘I’m glad.’

  ‘I feel like I know you so well, yet there’s this big gap in our histories. And you may be this totally different person now,’ he said.

  She shrugged. ‘I feel like a different person. I mean, I was a different person. I think I’m becoming more my old self the longer I’m back here.’

  He had another swallow of his drink. ‘What have you done these last fifteen years?’

  She reached for her gin and tonic from the coffee table and played with the glass in her hand. ‘After leaving …’ She cleared her throat, amazed that after all this time she still hated how hurting him had made her feel. ‘I went to Monash to study my Bachelor. It took me a long while to fit in, to tell you the truth. I’d never lived in the city. I had different experiences to the kids who lived there their entire lives. I felt like an alien.’

  His eyes widened. ‘Really?’

  ‘I wanted to come home
so badly for the first six months, but I also had this goal of working in a big office in the city. I wanted to be that put-together type-A woman I watched on television while growing up. So I stuck it out. And I actually really enjoyed the study side of things and what I was learning. I could see how I could really help businesses with the skills I was being taught. Eventually, I met a group of students who were a little lonely like me, and we made each other not feel quite so lonely anymore.’

  Sophie waddled to Mitch and leant over his lap. He stroked her hair. ‘Hey, darling. You having fun?’

  She nodded and moved Mitch’s legs back and forth as she swayed against them, eyes focused on the television. It melted Matilda’s heart to see how he interacted so naturally with Sophie and her with him.

  ‘So what happened then?’ he asked.

  She grinned. ‘I moved into an apartment with three housemates. I got my first job in a massive advertising agency where I felt like I barely even existed. It was such a bizarre experience. The partners didn’t even know my name.’

  ‘Nothing like the Alpine Ridge newsagency,’ he said with a laugh.

  ‘Yeah, I certainly wasn’t going to family barbeques on the weekends with my bosses.’

  Mitch chuckled.

  ‘It was again more culture shock, but I pushed through it and slowly moved up the ranks. Then I met my hus … ex-husband and before I knew it I was planning a wedding and being whisked off to the US.’

  ‘And what was that like?’ he asked.

  ‘For the first year, I was homesick. It was this headachy feeling no matter what I did. San Francisco is a confronting city to live in. Our apartment was in a good area, but the rent was astronomical. And the city had some big issues—a lot of homelessness, parking is horrendous. You have to turn up early just so you can find a park. And if you choose not to drive to avoid the parking issue, you can guarantee the public transport service will be late.’

  ‘So again, you’d have to leave extra early just to get there on time?’

  She nodded. ‘I’ve been trying to get myself out of the habit. And it’s such a cold city. And this fog hangs over the place doing its best to block out the sunshine when it does turn up. And don’t get me started about lines. Outside of every decent eatery, I had to line up for ages. Like seriously for blocks down the street. And then you have to pay through the nose. Twelve American dollars for a cup of juice.’

  His brows raised and he mouthed, ‘Twelve dollars?’

  ‘I’m not kidding. It’s ridiculously expensive. I had a great salary and so did Oscar, but we didn’t have a hell of a lot to show for it at the end of the day. And I was sick of feeling scared. Outside of the touristy spots, I wouldn’t walk around at night. And maybe that was a little paranoia on my part because everything was so foreign to me. There were other Aussie’s over there, and they loved it, but I think it was so far removed from what I grew up with that I could never quite adapt.’

  Sophie pushed herself off Mitch’s knees and sat in front of the television. He reached for his drink and had a sip. ‘Sounds like quite an experience.’

  ‘It was. And I’m glad that I did experience it.’

  ‘But?’

  ‘I’m even happier to be home.’

  ‘Why did you come home, Matilda?’

  She lowered her gaze. It was one thing to admit that she couldn’t quite make it in the city, but another altogether to say that she woke up one day wanting children and would never have subjected them to anything but a life where they got to grow up in wide open spaces, a relatively safe environment, and in a community designed for families.

  Australia was her home. Alpine Ridge, this small country town, was her home. She had loved her childhood and she wanted more than ever for her own children to experience that too.

  She looked into his eyes. ‘I realised my husband and I had different priorities.’

  Mitch nodded slowly, his brow furrowing.

  ‘He loved his life in the US. I wanted to come home.’

  Mitch smiled. ‘Lucky for me.’

  That stole a little of her breath, to hear him speak so candidly. Her grin was coy. ‘How about I go and dish up dinner?’

  He nodded. ‘Sounds good. Soph’s probably getting hungry.’

  ‘How about you?’

  He rubbed his stomach. ‘Me too.’

  ‘Excellent. Because I may have prepared too much.’

  Mitch ran out to the car to grab a booster seat for Sophie that would sit on one of the dining table chairs. Meanwhile, Matilda pulled out her toy arsenal and placed it on the floor just outside the kitchen within viewing range, so she could still watch Sophie as she prepared dinner.

  Tonight’s food—a big tray of lasagne and a garden salad was already prepared, she just had to serve it.

  She had remembered how much Mitch had loved Mum’s lasagne and would ensure a seat at the dinner table every time she cooked it. Thankfully, Mum had always insisted Matilda help with the preparation, so now she knew the recipe down pat. Though, it had been a long time since she had made it. Since her share house days.

  Mitch came back in and positioned the booster seat at the table Matilda had already set.

  ‘Need a hand?’ Mitch asked.

  She shook her head. ‘All prepared and ready to go. The lasagne is warming on low in the oven already. The salad is made. Sophie’s fine to eat lasagne, right?’

  Mitch nodded. ‘I’ll just chop it up nice and small for her.’

  ‘I tried to add grated vegetables into it, so at least she’s getting her vitamins.’

  Mitch grinned. ‘Sounds like you’ve thought of everything. I actually brought a backup for her, just in case.’

  ‘I assumed you might, so I didn’t panic too much. Now you two can take a seat and I’ll bring everything over.’

  When they were all seated at the table, the lasagne, salad and garlic bread set out before them, Mitch breathed in deeply. ‘It smells as great as I remember.’

  A grin curled her lips. ‘I was wondering if you’d realise it was Mum’s recipe.’

  ‘Oh, I realised it the moment I walked into the house this afternoon.’

  She giggled. ‘So it was a good choice then?’

  He shrugged, his smile teasing. ‘Well, I wouldn’t go that far yet. I’ve still got to taste it.’

  She laughed, gestured towards the tray of baked golden cheesy goodness. ‘Dig in.’

  Matilda had already dished up a small bowl for Sophie, so it could be cooling by the time they sat down to eat.

  Sophie dug her spoon into the lasagne and haphazardly brought it to her mouth. Matilda held her breath, hoping she would like it. Sophie chewed, swallowed, and then went back for another spoonful. That was a good enough indication for Matilda.

  ‘Yum, yum, Soph?’ Mitch asked.

  Sophie looked at him but didn’t answer, just turned back to her lasagne and dug in.

  ‘I think that’s a strong yes,’ Mitch said.

  ‘I concur.’ Matilda reached for the garlic bread and tore the end piece off. She preferred the crunchier pieces. ‘So, I told you my history, Mitch. What about yours?’

  ‘I thought it might have been self-explanatory.’

  She understood his reluctance—his past was painful, but she also wanted him to open up to her about it. If he kept all that hidden, it would suggest he wasn’t willing to let her in.

  Yes, this was a first date—kind of, it was probably more like their hundredth date, but it was the first in a long time. Her first really serious date after her divorce and his first after losing his wife. So, of course, she didn’t want to go too deep, but a tiny bit below the surface would be acceptable.

  ‘I guess parts of it is,’ she said, prompting him.

  He smiled, but it was tense, short-lived. ‘After you left, I moped around for a couple of months until Dad booted me up the arse.’

  She chuckled—that wasn’t hard to believe. Mitch’s father was a loving man, but he was also a hard man, held ov
er from that generation of even harder men. He expected the same from his sons. Thankfully Mrs Mathews was there to balance the brothers out. Matilda could see a lot of her influence in Mitch’s fathering.

  ‘And I threw myself into learning every part of the vineyard’s operations for the next few years. And I’m glad I did because Dad passed away five years after that. And Mum never really recovered from the stress of it all, so I had to take the lead pretty fast.’

  ‘I had heard your mum’s not doing too well. I’d like to go and see her.’

  His eyes widened. ‘You would?’

  She nodded. ‘Your mum was always so lovely to me.’

  ‘Sure. We can arrange that. She’s been asking about you lately. That period of time must be where her memory is at.’

  ‘It won’t confuse her?’

  He shook his head. ‘Impossible not to confuse her these days.’

  She winced, not realising it was so serious. ‘That bad?’

  He didn’t answer as Sophie dropped her plate to the ground with a clank. She pulled the strap around her belly holding her to the chair and screeched. ‘Out,’ she said, pulling against the strap angrily. ‘Me get out.’

  Mitch slid his chair back and went into the lounge room for her bag, all the while Sophie screeched and resisted the seat belt.

  He grabbed out some disposable wipes and rubbed her face, followed by her hands. Only then did he let her out. ‘You’ll have lasagne everywhere otherwise.’

  Matilda got up for a dishcloth to wipe up the splattered lasagne over her timber floor. Mitch carried Sophie over to her toys where she crouched down and started playing with some animal shaped figurines.

  ‘Kids are full on,’ she said when they were both back at their seats.

  He smiled. ‘Yep.’ He lifted his fork and had another mouthful of lasagne. ‘I actually think this lasagne might be better than your mum’s. But don’t tell her that.’

  Matilda laughed. ‘I wouldn’t dare.’ She chewed on a halved cherry tomato before she asked, ‘So you obviously took over from your father quite successfully?’

  He rocked his head from side to side. ‘I’ve had my moments. There are always obstacles, but, for the most part, my brothers and I have done well.’