April's Glow (14 page)

‘Subscribing you.'

‘Hey! Hang on, I don't want him to think I've been stalking him.' She shooed her employee's hands away from the keyboard.

‘But don't you want to get notified if he posts another entry?'

‘No. Yes. Maybe. I don't know.'

‘I'll take that as a yes. Do you have another email address apart from your work one?'

‘Oh, give it here.' She tilted the screen and leaned over and typed in her email address, which wouldn't give away her identity. ‘There, happy now?'

‘Not yet.' Belinda typed in her own too. ‘Two new subscribers in one minute. He'll wonder why he's suddenly so much more popular.' Belinda grinned. Then, as April went to refill the oil burner on a back-wall shelf behind the counter, Belinda said, ‘Um, you should check this out.'

‘Check what?'

‘Look.' She pointed to a poem on the screen. ‘I could be wrong, but what if he's writing about you?'

April had to reread it to take it all in. But they
had
touched. Hugged. And she knew he was ‘broken', as he'd put it. She checked the date of the entry. Earlier in the month. Before their dinner. After she'd given him the candle.

Something fluttered in her belly. Surely it couldn't be her. Songwriters wrote songs that were just general depictions of love and relationships, but it didn't mean they were about something they were currently experiencing, so it would be the same with poets.

I want it. But I'm scared.

It was like he was reading her mind. But she'd have to get rid of those thoughts and feelings, after discovering his secret. They were no use to her now.

The bell on the door to the store jingled and a young woman walked in.

‘Hi,' said April. ‘How are you?'

‘Good thanks,' she replied. ‘Do you have any candles that aren't too feminine, like for a guy? I don't want something too girly.'

April smiled. ‘I know just the one.' She led the customer to the cinnamon triple-wicked candle.

* * *

By late afternoon, April's right leg was tired. The store had become busier for some reason, and the new winter range was starting to sell, even though it was still a month until winter. She sat behind the counter, but as soon as she did, her phone rang. ‘Mum' appeared on the caller ID, so she picked it up. Her mother never called during April's work hours unless she really had to, but sent text messages like ‘I know you're busy, call me when you can', or ‘when you finish, give me a buzz and let's arrange to catch up'.

‘Mum?' she said.

‘Sorry to bother you, but your father is asking for us. He's causing a bit of a kerfuffle at the hospital.'

‘He's in hospital again?'

‘Uh-huh,' Clarissa Vedora replied. ‘Nurse says he refuses to take his medication or IV fluids until he can see his wife and daughter. I had to inform her that I'm his ex-wife, but we know he hasn't quite gotten used to the fact.'

Damn. She should have gone to see him earlier when he'd texted her after her birthday. ‘So they haven't sedated him?'

‘Tried to, but he almost jabbed the nurse with a needle. Flung it across the room, then got up and started yelling and stumbling around, banging into beds and equipment. And …' her mother's voice shook. ‘Then he got aggressive and grabbed one of the nurses by the arms.'

‘Oh no.' April stood. ‘I'm guessing they can't just give him a drink.' She managed a weak laugh.

‘Ah, no. And he's clearly starting to go through withdrawals.'

‘I'll get Belinda to close up, should be fine. Will you pick me up from here or my place?'

‘I'll see you at the shop in five or ten.'

‘Okay.' April ended the call. ‘Sorry, hope you're right to close up today?' she asked Belinda.

‘Sure, is everything okay?'

‘I don't want to burden you with my family dramas, but my dad, he's an alcoholic.' She hated saying it out loud. It blemished the air around her with a stain she couldn't budge. ‘He's causing some trouble at the hospital, so I'd better …' she gestured to the door.

‘Oh, I had no idea. Crap. Okay, sure, I can handle things here. You go.' April grabbed her bag and Belinda ushered her towards the door. ‘Hope he's okay,' she said.

Instead of waiting out front, April dashed as fast as she physically could to the bottle shop further up the road, away from the main street. It was crazy, feeding his addiction, but she didn't know what else to do. He needed to calm down before he hurt someone or himself, and barring sedatives if they could get them into him, this was the only way. She picked up a small bottle of whiskey and a hip flask, glad she had her roomy handbag, then dashed back to wait at the store. Glancing around to check no one was watching, she filled the flask with her father's poison. Her mother arrived soon after.

When they arrived at the hospital, it was easy to find his room. They only had to follow his voice, bellowing throughout the ward. ‘Ur all a bunch of idiots!'

‘Mr Vedora, they'll be here soon. Settle down.'

April and her mother walked in. Her father paced slowly, aimlessly, around the room, his hospital gown hanging limply from his thin frame. ‘Dad,' April said.

‘My daughter!' His eyes went wide. ‘She is here, idiots. She is here. Look.' He came toward her and pointed at her face. ‘She's so beautiful.'

One of the nurses managed a smile, and April grasped her father's hands, dry and leathery. ‘Dad, hop back in bed. You need to get some fluids and rest.'

‘So beautiful,' he said, obeying her command. ‘Even with the missing leg.' He looked at the nurse. ‘See? She has a fake one.' He pointed again.

April's mother huffed and finally moved closer to her ex-husband, but April rolled her eyes. It didn't bother her.

‘Gary, don't talk about April's leg. Just do what the nurses and doctors say.'

April knew her mother didn't want to be there, but she also knew what her father was like and how difficult it could be for medical professionals to deal with him, and her mother would be embarrassed on his behalf.

‘And my wife,' her father said, reaching out his hand, but Clarissa didn't let him touch her. ‘Still beautiful but getting older, as you can see.' He scrunched up his face. ‘We all get old. We all get old and then we die!' he yelled. April's mother backed away and turned her face to the wall.

April talked calmly to him and the nurse took the opportunity to swiftly reinsert the IV line and do other necessary tasks, smiling gratefully at April. April felt compassion for the staff, dealing with difficult patients. She'd seen a lot after her accident and, despite her challenging recovery, some of it was made easier by the caring people who looked after her. Some were just methodical, practical, doing their day's work but a few others had made a big difference, like you could tell it was their passion and they did their best to make things that little bit easier.

‘These idiots don't know what they're doing,' he said. ‘No one can look after me like you two can. Or used to,' he sighed. Then his weary eyes met hers, hope giving them a hint of gloss.

She knew that look. It was the ‘did you bring me anything?' look.

April put a finger to her lips.

When the nurse had finished, Clarissa walked out of the room to talk to her, and April reached into her bag. ‘Dad, just a few sips, okay?' she whispered. ‘If you behave and let the medicos do their job, I'll bring more tomorrow. And maybe they'll even let you out early. But you have to promise.'

He gulped from the flask without answering. She might as well have said she had one hour to live and he still would have gone for the drink first.

‘Okay, Dad? Be good and more tomorrow.'

‘My lips are sealed,' he drew a line across his lips with his fingers and April took the flask from his hands, shoving it quickly into her bag. Luckily the curtains around the other beds were drawn. ‘Is it bedtime yet? What time is it? Midnight?'

‘No, it's early. But you sleep if you need to.'

‘Sleep. I need to. Mmm, sleep.' His eyes went droopy.

She stayed with him a while as he drifted in and out of sleep, then stood as his breathing changed to a regular rhythm.

Her mother glanced her way. April nodded.

They left the hospital, and before starting the engine Clarissa paused for a moment and took a deep breath. ‘Right, off we go!' she said with forced enthusiasm. She had seen it before, her mother trying to counteract the difficult times with overt happiness and excitement. Like once in the past when her dad had sworn at them and told them they were useless … ‘Wow is that the time? Let's go out for diner instead, no time to cook!' her mother had said, and they'd gone and pigged out on pizza. Or the time when her dad threw up on the living room floor, and after her mother had cleaned it up she'd clapped her hands and said … ‘Let's go shopping! I need a new sheet set. Oh, and shoes! And we can have lunch.'

April listened on the drive home as her mother blurted random, mildly pleasant but unimportant remarks about anything that popped into her head.

‘You're quiet,' her mother said.

‘Just thinking.'

‘April, I'm your mum. You don't think, you speak. What's got you so silent?'

‘My new neighbour. He's an alcoholic. A really sexy one.'

Clarissa made a sound that was a cross between a gasp and a laugh. ‘He's told you this? Or have you seen him drinking?'

‘He told me. He's eight months sober though.'

‘Ah. Well, good for him. But you remember what happened after your dad tried to stay sober, don't you?'

‘How could I forget?' The sight of her mother falling from the top of the staircase had scared the life out of her teenage self. She'd poked her head out of her room when she'd heard the commotion: her father yelling his slurred frustrations, her mother trying to calm him. It was his first day of drinking again after a short break of a few weeks, and Clarissa had hidden the grog from him, trying to get him back on track. But it only made him upset, and without meaning to, he'd flung his arms around and accidentally collided with his wife, who lost her balance and fell backwards. Three broken bones, two ribs and her arm were the result. And the gradual dissolution of their marriage.

‘Keep your distance, honey.'

‘A bit hard, considering we're neighbours. We've had dinner together. That's when he told me.'

‘Dinner? Like a date?'

‘Not really, just a friendly thing. He told me about being a soldier. He's been through a lot.'

‘Oh. Well, I'm sure he has. But you need someone less complicated in your life, April. What about that nice young man at the bank?'

‘That one with the permanent smile on his face?'

‘Yes, always so positive.'

‘It's weird though, like his smile is fake. I don't buy it. I think he's pretending.' April looked out the window, watching the passing cars. Passing, because her mother always drove ten kilometres under the speed limit. ‘Anyway, I'm not attracted to the guy at the bank.'

‘Attraction isn't everything,' Clarissa said. ‘I was head over heels attracted to your father, look where that got me.'

‘Mum.' April sighed.

‘Well, attraction will do you no good with this neighbour fellow. A dead end, that one.'

‘He's a nice guy. But don't worry. I don't plan on falling for him.'

A twinge of discomfort twisted inside. Had she already fallen for him? She would have to un-fall, because like her mother said, he was a dead end. She couldn't get involved with someone who had a problem with alcohol, simple as that. She would not repeat her mother's mistakes.

The next day, April left Belinda in charge briefly and went back to the hospital. She took her father home when they discharged him, and made sure his living environment was clean and safe. She made him eat, then when he was settled on the couch with the television, she left. He would be okay, for now. He would get worse again, but for now, she could leave knowing she'd done what she could. The rest was up to him.

Being a Saturday the store was busy, and by the end of the day she'd almost forgotten about her dad. It was only when things became quiet for a moment that her thoughts would return to him. And then to Zac. She'd already decided not to get involved, but maybe she should try even harder. Maybe she shouldn't even be that friendly with him. Keep things more like they were with Nancy Dillinger next door; occasional brief exchanges, the odd wave and smile, and that was about it. Though Nancy seemed quite comfortable with Sylvia Greene in the next house up, she didn't know why, maybe Sylvia was Nancy's doctor and they knew each other that way. Yes, she would have to keep her distance as her mother had said. It would only make things harder, the more they interacted.

‘You look like you're settled in for a long night chained to the computer,' said Belinda, as she grabbed her bag and went to leave work.

April sipped from her takeaway coffee cup as she sat at the counter, going over figures and occasionally jotting down notes and ideas into a word document. ‘Just focusing on the business.'