Forever Blue (17 page)

Chapter Twenty Eight

Lennon

After I repeated Ruben's words by the bonfire, Cara stormed off and Judah followed her. Ruben stared after them, looking more like Judah than I had ever seen. Defeated.

I stood, frozen, my mind jumbled with the revelation that it was Ruben who was guilty all along. He lied, not only to Cara, but to me.

"It was an accident," Ruben said. His eyes were trained on the ground, on Cara's crushed cigarette butt mashed in the dirt. "I didn't know."

"I don't know what to believe," I murmured.

"Believe me," he pleaded. He strode over and gripped my shoulder. "Believe me," he said again, staring into my eyes with desperation. I didn't look at him and he shook me hard. "You've got to believe me, Lennon. I didn't know. I didn't know I had hit her. I thought it was a sheep. I swear, Lennon. I swear."

I watched him, disconnected from my body which had turned so cold I couldn't feel anything. My skin tingled with numbness as he shook me, desperate for me to answer him, but I couldn't. My bones ached. It felt like he was drawing away any energy left inside. The more desperate he became, the more numb I became. I pulled away, muttering something about needing space and risked a look over my shoulder. He stood as a silhouette in front of the flames and the pain in his expression almost made me stay. But I forced myself to turn away.

I couldn't find Sienna, and Judah and Cara were nowhere to be seen. In the end, it was Flynn and my mother who came and picked me up after I sent a text. They didn't ask what happened. I'm not sure they cared. They sat in the front seat of Flynn's big, noisy car, hands intertwined, even while he changed gears, and giggling like they were privy to a secret that I was not.

When I got home, Ruben stood outside my window, one hand pressed to the glass, so I made sure it was closed and pulled the curtains, ignoring his pleading grey eyes. The tapping on the glass and his torn pleas finally faded away after an hour. Despite my exhaustion, sleep didn't find me until the wee hours of the morning, and it was filled with nightmares of sad eyes, screeching tyres, broken fingernails and rain splattering on windows.

I woke to the phone ringing. I waited for Mum to pick up, but it kept ringing and ringing, so finally I heaved myself out of bed and ran down the hall, stubbing my toe on the doorframe. "Hello?"

"Lennon!" Dad's cheery voice greeted me on the other end of the line. "Are you ready to come down?"

I had forgotten all about it. I hadn't even packed, or filled Elmo with petrol. "Sure Dad. Looking forward to it." I mustered what little energy I could into my voice.

"So am I, honey, and so is Melinda. It means a lot to her that you accept her."

"Ah huh," I replied, already forgetting the promise I made to myself to be nicer to Dad.

"She's having a bit of a hard time of it lately. This kid is keeping her up at night with all his kicking. Bound to be a rugby player, that one." His voice held pride that it never did when he spoke about me. "So, you all sorted? Anything else you need?"

"No, Dad. I'm all good," I said, looking out the window and being surprised to see Elmo parked on the street. I had left my car at Judah's place, so he must have dropped it off at some stage.

"Okay then. Well just thought I'd check in before you came down. See you tonight." Dad sounded disappointed in our conversation, as though he was expecting more. But I couldn't give more. I had nothing left.

I tried to add a little more enthusiasm into my tone but failed. "Looking forward to it."

"What time do you plan on arriving? Melinda's already stressing over what to cook."

Even the thought of deciding what to have for dinner was too much, and I rested my head against the wall, too weary to hold the weight of it. "I'm not worried. Tell Melinda not to stress. I don't care what we have. You can tell her to order in fish and chips, if it helps."

"I think she wants to impress you with good old fashioned home cooking."

"Home cooking doesn't always sound enticing to me."

Dad laughed. "She's not your mother, Lennon."

We said our goodbyes and I hung up and rubbed my eyes. I felt drained and empty. I threw some clothes into a bag and braced myself as I pulled the curtains, half of me dreading to see Ruben hunched down under my window, the other half hoping he was. But he wasn't. After writing a quick goodbye note for Mum to read when she got home from wherever she was, I filled the car with petrol. The drive went past in a blur. I blasted music and tried not to think about Ruben. The time away would do me good, give me a chance to clear my head.

Dad lived in a small but modern house. It was squeezed onto the section with a long strip of lawn out the front. Melinda came out, a small scruffy dog nipping at her heels. Her tummy appeared to have grown in size tremendously in the time that had passed since I last saw her. She pulled me into an embrace and her belly pressed into mine. The dog yapped incessantly.

"I'm so excited that you're here! We're going to have such fun! Shut up, Meredith!" she growled at the dog, before turning back to me. "Your Dad's away showing a couple a house that they having been humming over for a while now. He's certain that they are going to make an offer on it, so he could be a while. He said to say sorry."

"No problem," I said as I pulled my bag from the boot. The little dog continued to yap.

"You look tired." Melinda eyed me. "Are you tired? Are you getting enough sleep? Your dad said that your favourite dinner was spaghetti Bolognese so that's what I've made. I hope I've made it the way you like." Melinda continued to babble as we walked into the house. I nodded and smiled and assured her that I loved spaghetti Bolognese, even though it hadn't been my favourite since I was ten. But I guess Dad could be forgiven for not knowing the current state of my taste buds.

"You'll be in the baby's room, I hope that's okay. We just don't have any other rooms and your father said you wouldn't mind if we decorated it for the baby. I know it was your room but we really haven't got anywhere else."

"It's fine, Melinda, honestly. I'm hardly ever down here, in fact, I think I've only slept in it once. The baby will need it more than me."

I dumped down my bag and looked around the room. Last time I had been here, it was painted a deep tan colour, like the rest of the house. Now, it was baby blue with clouds on the ceiling and had pale yellow curtains. The word, baby, in block letters, was stuck on the wall and a toy hammock filled with brightly coloured teddy bears hung in one corner. A bassinet complete with sheets and covers sat under the hammock and a changing table was set up along the wall.  A couch sat where the bed used to be.

Melinda saw me looking. "Don't worry, it pulls out." She laughed. "Your dad had to sleep on it one night when I simply couldn't stand his snoring any longer and I was desperate for sleep. He assures me that it is very comfortable. I'll go grab some sheets and we will make it up like a proper bed."

"I'll be fine just with a sleeping bag, Melinda. Don't worry about sheets."

"Nonsense," Melinda said, shaking her head. "Look, I know this will all be a little strange for you, but I want you to know that this is still your home. Anytime you want to come and stay, you know you're welcome."

She disappeared to get the bedding. I wouldn't let her help make the bed. I doubted whether she could bend that low. Her belly strained out from her dress and the rest of her had ballooned with pregnancy too. She looked puffy and tired.

Melinda and I ate alone, as Dad had still not returned. Melinda apologised profusely, but I told her it was something I was used to. After dinner we sat in the lounge, alternating between watching a miniseries and going over the baby shower plans. Everything was blue. Blue balloons, blue name tags, blue streamers, blue everything.

I thought of Ruben.

She explained the games, sniffing substances on diapers and dressing up in oversized ones. Gross. Melinda was very excited, and from the look of it, she had planned everything herself. We went over the guest list which was both male and female and wrote the names on little blue tags with a pair of white booties printed in the corner. She already had cupcakes, and the cake had been ordered from the bakery. She even had a company coming in to cater the rest of the food.

"Will you help me decorate tomorrow?" she asked.

"Of course," I said, and hoped she didn't hear the dread seep into my voice.

"I just can't wait! Oh!" she exclaimed, and her eyes grew wide as she grabbed my hand and pressed it against her stomach. "Can you feel that? It's your baby brother saying hello!"

Half-brother, I wanted to correct, but the excitement in her face was too much to dampen. A kick bounced off my hand. I could imagine his little foot, or maybe it was an elbow, jutting out in protest of his tight quarters. I shut the thought of Harrison out of my mind.

"The doctors said it could happen any day now. He is all in place and ready and waiting," Melinda chatted happily.

"You've still got a while to go, though, haven't you?" I asked.

"Twelve days. But sometimes they pop out early or late. No one can tell, they just come out when they are ready, I guess."

I still had my hand pressed to Melinda's tummy and was rewarded by another sharp kick. It was kind of nice.

"Lennon!" Dad entered the room and boomed his greeting the way he always did. The dog barked excitedly and jumped up and down at his feet. "Shut up, McKay!" he yelled at it, and the dog scampered under the couch.

"Must you be so mean to him?" Melinda pouted.

"Him? I thought its name was Meredith?" I queried, but they both ignored me.

"He's at it again, Bobby," Melinda said and pointed at her stomach. "Lennon just felt him kick."

Dad walked over and pressed his ear to Melinda's stomach. "Hey little man," he whispered. "How are you doing in there? Ready to come out yet?" He kissed her stomach. "If possible, babe, keep him in there until I sign this deal. These people are still making up their minds."

Get used to it kid, I thought to myself. Dad had always run out for some real estate emergency. You have to strike while the iron is hot, he would say.

Dad reached over and gave me a hug before slouching down on the leather chair and tilting it back. "What's for dinner, babe?" He placed his hands behind his head and crossed his ankles after kicking off his shoes.

"I'll just go get it." Melinda leveraged herself off the couch.

I scowled at Dad but he didn't notice. "I'll do it." I walked into the kitchen, dished up a plate, and popped it into the microwave. I was watching it go round and round, and trying to keep my thoughts from drifting to Ruben, when there was a loud scream from the lounge. I ran through to see Melinda standing in the middle of the room, a large patch of wet carpet under her.

"What's happening?" she screeched.

Dad held her by the elbow and gently led her to the couch. "Just take a seat," he said.

"But it's not supposed to happen like this. Isn't there supposed to be some sort of warning? Contractions?" Melinda's voice was panicked.

"Lennon, grab the bag out of our room, would you? I think the baby has decided it's time," Dad said, giving me a pointed look and jerking his head in the direction of their bedroom.

Without a word, I flew out of the room and headed down the hall. A single bag was packed and resting on the floor so I flung it over my shoulder and ran back to the lounge.

Dad took Melinda's arm and guided her towards the door and into the car. "Lennon, hop in," he said, as he slid behind the wheel.

"But the baby shower," Melinda said, as she lowered herself into the back seat. She clutched my arm when I sat down, her knuckles white. She breathed in short puffs. "The balloons," she wailed.

"That's right darling. In and out, in and out," Dad said, with a worried stare via the mirror.

By the time we reached the hospital Melinda had left fingernail marks in my arm.

"Take her inside and I'll find a park," Dad barked, as he pulled up to the entrance.

"You're kidding, right?" Panic hit at the thought of being responsible for Melinda, even if it was only for a few minutes. "You take her in. I'll find a park."

"No time to argue," Dad yelled. "Just get her inside!"

I helped Melinda out of the car. She clutched the doorframe and breathed heavily. "I don't think I want to do this anymore, Lennon," she said.

"I don't think you have a choice." I held onto her elbow to help steady her.

"But it's not supposed to happen this way," she wailed.

I wasn't sure if all births were this dramatic, or if it was just Melinda. "Try telling him that." I pointed to her stomach, and she actually smiled.

"This is really happening," she said.

I took a deep breath and nodded, smiling as wide as I could to reassure her. "It really is."

"I'm pleased you're here. Bobby didn't want my mother or sister at the hospital with us. He said they would stress me out. But I'm pleased you're here."

By now the nurses had spotted us and were wheeling a chair towards us with surprising calm. Dad rushed into the room once Melinda was settled and lying on the bed. She had on a hospital gown that billowed around her belly.