Instant Family (26 page)

He reached out a hand to touch her cheek gently. "She wasn't angry
with either of you, hon. She was angry with me."

"But she made Katy go home, and I wanted her to stay."

"I know. But she can sleep over another time. Chloe won't be angry forever."

"She'll get over it." That had a very Derek-sounding ring to it.
Steffie selected a different pencil and returned to her picture. "See
my house, Daddy?"

"It's very good." He looked more carefully. It was very good, and
she wasn't simply coloring in as he'd originally thought. "Did you
draw that?"

"Yes. It's my house. I'm going to be like you, Daddy, and draw
houses for people to live in."

"I like the way the balcony goes right around" A swell of pride
rose in his heart. How could he have missed this latent talent for
design? By not looking-that was the sad truth of it. Never looking
beyond the superficial. He'd seen caring for his daughter as a duty and
done the right things without seeing the truth of the child. He'd missed the essence of Steffie. Chloe had hit the mark there. Painfully
so. Strange that he had seen and clicked with the essence of Seb
within a couple of hours yet missed so much in the six years of Steffie's
existence.

"Do you know how to deal with me, Daddy?" She sat back to
study her handiwork.

This time his breath stalled. Was she a junior mind-reader as
well? "'Deal with you'?"

"Chloe said, `You don't know how to deal with your own
daughter.'"

How much else had the girls heard? "Of course I know how to
deal with you." He forced a smile. "All I need to do with you is feed
you macaroni and cheese."

Steffie giggled.

"Hon, you mustn't be upset or frightened by anything you heard
Chloe say last night. She was very upset about Seb. She was angry
with me because I didn't tell her he was hurt, and I should have."

"Why didn't you?" She looked up at him.

"She had her concert, and we thought she'd be too worried and
not play properly. Anyway, I took care of Seb."

"Yes, we all did," she said. "And Seb's going to be just fine."

"Yes."

If a six-year-old could understand the logic, why not Chloe?

By the end of the week Seb was reasonably mobile, but Chloe
wouldn't let him play cricket for at least another week, which annoyed him intensely.

"They need me!" he shouted after reluctantly relaying the news to
his coach on Thursday evening. "I can't just not turn up. I'm part of
a team, and I'm the best bowler."

"I don't care!" she yelled. "What if you get a cricket ball in the
face?"

"Don't be stupid."

"You wouldn't be much use anyway. You're still too stiff."

Seb glared at her, his eyes glittering through the purple-red
swollen flesh, and stomped down the hall to his bedroom, where
he slammed the door. Hard.

Chloe heaved in furious gasps of air. Why couldn't they understand? Men! Dense as tree trunks. Bodies were fragile. They broke
and bled and needed care and attention. Sometimes they died, blasted
to pieces. She clenched her fists until her nails dug into her palms.
This wasn't Bali. There weren't suicide bombers here intent on destruction.

Get a grip.

He'd sent roses. Red roses. They stood in a tall glass vase on the
kitchen counter. In full view. Katy insisted they go where everyone
could see them, fussing about choosing the right vase. Katy didn't
read the note, though. That was private.

Forgive me. Love, Alex.

Could she forgive him? Probably, in time. Did she want to rekindle
what had flamed so briefly between them? Staring at the roses, breathing in their deep perfume, holding the card and gently running
her finger over the words. Love, Alex. Drinking in the meaning, absorbing it through the skin on her fingertips. She did love Alex. As
deeply as the roses were red. She'd go on loving him long after the
flowers had shriveled and died.

But he didn't fit into her life. He couldn't fit. He didn't know how.
Loving and wanting weren't enough. There had to be understanding
and empathy, and most of all there had to trust. Bevan and Mum had
had it. Trust, honesty, openness.

In some ways it was fitting they had died together, because she
couldn't imagine either of them surviving without the other. Mum
said Bevan was her savior. He said she was his life and that he hadn't
any idea of what living was all about until he met her. They met and
knew, Mum and Bevan. Instantly.

Was her love for Alex like that? Was his for her like that? She had
no way of telling. The trust wasn't there-she knew that.

She wrote a brief, polite, thank-you note and dropped it into his
letter box the following day, scurrying back to her car in case he
spotted her and came out. Impossible to face him yet.

Simone paused with her hand on the latch. "What are you doing
for your birthday?"

Katy smiled and looked at Chloe quickly with sparkling eyes.
Those two terrors had secrets. Chloe shrugged. "Nothing."

"You should throw a party. Cheer yourself up a bit."

"I'm cheerful."

"No, you're not."

"I am." No doubt that pair had been discussing things that were
none of their business. Chloe put her guitar case down to take off her
jacket, turning her back for a moment in order to hang it up and to
forestall further unsolicited comment on her state of happiness. Fragile was the best description. Incapable of withstanding Simone-style
scrutiny.

Alex hadn't called or visited for two weeks. Not since the roses.
She'd had no idea not seeing him would be so torturous, hadn't
thought he might take her anger at face value and completely withdraw from her life. All their lives. As far as she knew, he hadn't seen the boys either. No one had so much as mentioned his name. It was
as if he'd ceased to exist except in her heart and her memories.
Wasn't that what she'd wanted?

She faced Simone, expression and voice composed. "Thanks for
coming over."

"How were the weddings?" asked Katy.

"Fine. The second bride had a lovely dress, very elegant."

Simone smiled. "You've had a busy weekend"

"It's been great." It had been wonderful, the musical part of her
life. Around the gaping hole that had developed at the core. A wedding yesterday. Two weddings today, with an hour in between to relocate. Most of the weekend being a musician. "Thank you for being
here for us."

"I loved every minute of it-you know that." Simone offered her
cheek for a kiss. "I have to run now. Dinner with the girls."

"Bye-bye, Gran." Katy zeroed in for a hug and kiss.

"Thanks again, Simone." Chloe shut the door.

"Gran brought Easter eggs," said Katy, skipping ahead of her down
the hall. "Even though it's not Easter yet."

"It nearly is. Any left for me?"

"Heaps."

The boys were sprawled in front of the TV, watching Ben Hur and
eating chocolate eggs. Charlton Heston was striding down into the
leper colony to find his mother and sister.

"You won't eat dinner," said Chloe on her way past.

"Wanna bet?" asked Julian. He tossed a ball of colored foil at
Katy, who squeaked and threw it back.

"What is for dinner?" asked Katy.

Chloe sighed. Back to reality. "Tuna casserole."

"Great," Seb groaned.

"You could have organized something else."

He grunted and returned his attention to the lepers and Charlton.

Chloe went to her bedroom to change from her black pants and
deep red blouse into jeans and a sweatshirt. They'd played well today. She'd sung a couple of Amanda's new songs. Another wedding
a week from Saturday to look forward to, plus they'd devised a rehearsal schedule for the long weekend concerts. Plenty of practice,
plenty of playing. Plenty of activity to take her mind off Alex.

During that first week the tidal wave of her anger had carried her
across the gulf of their separation. She was glad he didn't call; she
never wanted to see him again. He couldn't be trusted, he'd undermined her authority, he'd usurped her role as protector and carer.

Toward the end of the week it became clear he wasn't going to attempt a reconciliation beyond the roses. He hadn't responded to her
card. He'd gone on with his life. The Gardiners had ceased to exist
for him. Or was he waiting for her to make the first move?

During the second week more doubts began to creep in. As her
anger dimmed, the memories glowed. Memories of intimate words
spoken in love. Memories of kisses, scents, touch. Memories of a
man she adored. A man she'd shunned and abused. And ultimately
discouraged. A man who said he loved her, was willing to help and
share. Gone. Here she was, stranded, high and dry on the shore after
that wave of rage had receded. Alone.

Served her right.

In the kitchen she began preparing the casserole, opening the can
of tuna, peeling veggies. Katy came in to help. One week of Easter
school holidays down, one to go. No work in the shop this time, no
students. Plenty of time to think. Or mope. No! This was what she'd
wanted, this was what she'd gotten. No distraction in the form of
Alex. Time to practice, which she needed. Time to focus on the kids
and head off future disasters before they happened.

"What do you want for your birthday?"

Chloe smiled. "Nothing special. I'd like Seb to stay out of trouble."

Katy giggled. "Gran said he looked like Muhammad Ali. Who's
he?"

"A world-champion boxer."

"Seb can't box."

"Apparently not."

Katy opened a tin of cream of celery soup and poured it carefully
into the casserole dish. "Alex could help him."

"Alex?" Chloe's hand froze over the carrot she was peeling. "He
can't box, can he?" Was Alex secretly contacting the kids behind her
back? He'd better not be!

"I don't know. But he's a man."

"What's that got to do with anything? I don't want Seb fighting
anyone, anywhere."

"S'pose not. Are you still angry with him?"

"Who?"

"Alex."

Chloe chopped the knife into the carrot. Hack, hack, hack. "No,"
she said tersely. "I don't think about him." Hack, hack-with even
more vigor. "Have you seen him lately?"

"No." Katy didn't say anything more, but the doubtful tone made
Chloe glance suspiciously sideways at the intent face. The knife sliced
into her finger. "Owww!"

"Eeek!" shrieked Katy. "There's blood everywhere!"

Chloe stared at the flood of bright red flowing from her index finger. Strangely, it didn't hurt. She put the knife down and turned on
the cold tap. Bloody water swirled around the sink, mesmerizing,
around and around.

"What happened?" Julian peered over her shoulder.

"I cut my finger." Now it was beginning to hurt. A sharp, clinical
pain that made her gasp and brought tears to her eyes.

"Stick it under the tap," he said. "Chloe?"

She did as he said, dumbly, incapable of coherent thought. Blood
still poured out, unstoppable. Her life's blood washing away down the
drain. Like her life. Tears streamed down her cheeks. They wouldn't
stop. The blood wouldn't stop. A chunk of flesh hung away from her
finger, gaping crimson. Julian yelled something at Katy.

He turned off the tap and wrapped her hand clumsily in a tea towel.
Blood seeped through as she watched. Her knees gave way, and she
sank to the floor, clutching her wounded hand and sobbing. The pain
clawed up her arm, biting and snapping like a vicious animal. She
moaned in between heaving gasps of tears, bending forward to find
relief but without success.

"Chloe, please." Julian's face swam before her, blurred through
the tears-frown lines, wide, frightened blue eyes. "What should
I do?"

She shook her head, but no words formed in her mind.

"You have to go to the doctor," he said.

When she didn't reply, he stood up and went away. Chloe rested
her forehead on her bent knees. A drop of blood oozed through the
makeshift bandage and fell to the floor. She clamped her hand over
the tea towel, pulling another corner across to stem the seepage.

Julian knelt before her again. "I rang the doctor, but I got an answering machine saying go to the on-call doctor in Weetangera."

"Can you drive?" Seb's voice now.

"She can't drive." Julian answered for her, his voice taut. "I think
she's in shock."

As if in response, Chloe shivered. The tears had eased, but her
body had no strength. She doubted she could stand without assistance. The shivering took hold. Her lungs dragged in air.

Julian and Seb grasped an arm each and pulled her upright. Katy
fluttered in front of her, face pale and anxious.

"What will we do?" she cried.

"Sit her on the couch," said Seb. "I'm calling Alex."

"Chloe'll be angry," said Katy.

"Too bad. Alex will know what to do."

Chloe, slumped on the couch, was beyond caring. Her whole
hand hurt in sympathy with the cut finger. Every now and again her
body was wracked with convulsive shivers. Katy snuggled next to
her and slid her arms around as much of Chloe's body as she could
manage. Comforting, familiar. Loving. More tears slid down her
cheeks.