The Maxwell Sisters (3 page)

Eve coughed, trying to squash the sudden ache in her heart. She needed a believable excuse and work seemed as good as any. ‘I don't really get on with the owner … or the head chef. I've been thinking lately maybe I should apply for a job somewhere else.'

‘Maybe you should. Although,' Phoebe rolled her eyes, ‘I don't know why you don't just go home. I would if I could. The last five days in Perth have been enough.' She sliced the air with her hand as she said it. ‘Do you know what Patricia suggested would make the perfect take-home gift?'

Eve smiled. ‘I'm afraid to ask.'

‘A silver love-heart key ring with our photo on the front and our names and wedding date inscribed on the back.' Eve giggled as Phoebe put a hand to her forehead. ‘Can you imagine it?'

‘We-ll,' Eve drew out the word, trying to find something positive to say, ‘it's definitely commemorative. I'd put it on my car keys.'

‘Yes, because you're sweet,' Phoebe groaned. ‘And possibly our mother would as well. But I think everyone else would think it's a bit presumptuous, don't you? I mean, I wouldn't want to hang someone else's wedding photo on my car keys.'

‘They don't have to hang it on their car keys,' Eve shrugged. ‘They could just keep it.'

‘Then why make it a key ring at all?' Phoebe shrugged. ‘Personally I'd rather go with something a little more traditional, like wedding cake in a nice box or even sugared almonds wrapped up in lace.'

Eve stuck out her tongue. ‘Those things are disgusting.'

‘Aren't they though?' Phoebe giggled. ‘Well, I really don't see what the problem is,' Eve said. ‘Just tell her you don't want them.'

Phoebe laughed. ‘This coming from the girl who can't say no.'

Eve blushed but Phoebe didn't tease her further. ‘The thing is, I'm supposed to be doing the whole bonding thing with her. You know, like trying to get to know her and win her approval, so to speak,' she winced. ‘And I am trying. I just didn't think it would be this much work. I mean, it's supposed to be our wedding, but I feel like I'm jumping through hoops just trying to please her.'

‘So what did you tell her about the bombonieres?'

‘I said I'd like to keep my options open for now.'

‘And what did she say?'

‘She said if it's about the cost, she'd pay for it.'

‘But didn't you tell her it wasn't about the cost?'

‘Of course, so then she asked whether it was about the photo. Because if we didn't have a suitable one she could hire a professional photographer. The conversation just kept going. It literally would not end. In fact, I think we're still having it. It's just on pause at the moment.'

Eve chuckled.

‘I'm sure Tash's mother-in-law was never this involved at her wedding.'

At the mention of her older sister's name, Eve felt a slight prick of guilt. She lifted her flute to her lips, waiting for the moment to pass.

She could feel Phoebe's eyes on her. ‘Aren't you in the least bit curious as to how she's going? Surely you care a little bit.'

Eve slowly lowered her glass. ‘All right. How's she doing?'

Phoebe frowned. ‘Actually, I have absolutely no idea.'

‘What do you mean?'

‘She's been very hard to get hold of these last few months and when I do speak to her she's distracted as hell.' Phoebe bit her lip. ‘I think something's going on, Eve. I think she needs us.'

Eve put her glass down on the coffee table next to the couch. ‘The day Tash needs me will be the day hell freezes over.'

‘You're so wrong.' Phoebe shook her head. ‘She misses you. She regrets what she said. I know she does.'

‘She hasn't contacted me,' Eve shrugged.

‘She hasn't contacted
anyone
. In fact, I've been trying to ring her the last few days and it keeps going to voicemail.'

‘Don't worry,' Eve assured her, ‘Tash is as tough as an ox. She's probably just busy at work.' If there was anyone who could hold their own, it was her older sister, the corporate bad-arse of the eastern states. Eve grinned to herself. She had never known Tash to show a moment's weakness … Her grin faded. Or a moment's patience either. ‘Let's not talk about Tash.' Eve glanced about the boutique. ‘I want to focus on you. You and this wedding.'

Even if it bloody kills me.

‘The attendant is getting the dresses I wanted your opinion on,' Phoebe nodded. ‘In the meantime, I need to give you something.' She put her champagne down and reached into her handbag to draw out a white satin envelope.

‘Is that –' Eve's trembling fingers turned it over and drew out the card.

‘The invitation,' Phoebe finished for her. ‘Yes, they've all gone out. I kept yours so I could give it to you in person. Do you like it?'

Eve hardly took in the aesthetics as her eyes scanned the words and she lost the ability to breathe. ‘You're having it at home?' she asked, her eyes widening in shock. ‘We never talked about that.'

Phoebe blinked. ‘Were we supposed to?'

‘Well, I just don't understand. I mean, whereabouts in Tawny Brooks are you going to have the reception?'

‘In the restaurant.'

‘But you can't,' she gasped.

‘I not only can, but I will. And you're going to help me.' Eve choked. ‘How?'

‘We're going to fix it.'

‘What? How?'

‘You, me, Spider, Heath and Tash. We're all going to go home a month before the wedding and get everything shipshape.'

It was her worst nightmare. ‘Impossible.' Her voice was barely a whisper.

Phoebe frowned. ‘Damn it. Spider said you might have a problem with this.'

Eve looked up quickly. ‘He did?'

Phoebe put a hand on her shoulder. ‘Honey, he's been your friend for ages. He knows you almost as well as I do. He knows how much that restaurant meant to you. He was just as disappointed when you both lost it. This is hard for him too.'

‘Then why are you making us do it?'

Phoebe shook her head. ‘Because the restaurant was special to me and Spider too. It's where we met, after all. Having our wedding anywhere else just wouldn't seem right. Besides, I think you need this.'

Phoebe was so off base Eve thought she'd need a plane to get back.

‘I'm not suggesting you reopen if that's not what you wish to do,' Phoebe quickly assured her, reaching across and putting her hand over hers. ‘But it's time to face your fears, Eve, and realise that you didn't fail. Life just happened and will continue to happen. It's not your fault.'

Eve's fingers clenched tightly together in her lap. Her fears didn't just concern the restaurant but she couldn't explain that to Phoebe. ‘Phee, I don't think I can get a whole month off work.'

Phoebe pouted. ‘Why not? Spider said you've been working yourself like a dog at Margareta's and you've got heaps of leave up your sleeve.'

‘They need me there.' Eve's voice came out strangled. ‘And I don't want to put any noses out of joint.'

Phoebe's mouth pulled into a hard line. ‘Am I missing something here? Because a minute ago you said you were thinking of leaving. Eve, what have I done to offend you?'

‘Nothing.'

‘Then be there for me,' Phoebe pleaded. ‘I'm getting married, for goodness sake.'

‘Of course, of course.' Something very close to hysteria was bubbling in Eve and it was only by keeping her head down and her eyes to the floor that she somehow managed to get it under control.

‘I need you, Eve. Much more than you know.'

She looked up into Phoebe's eyes, which were glistening with tears. ‘Okay, all right,' she whispered, not knowing whether to be grateful or insulted that Phoebe never thought for a moment that her reluctance to be too involved, too present, too near to this wedding and all it entailed was anything more than just her lack of confidence.

By lucky chance, the sales assistant finally appeared with a dress on each arm. One was a lace creation, the other, satin. ‘Here they are! I've found them at last,' the woman said as Phoebe stood up. ‘Shall we try them on?'

Phoebe gave Eve's arm one last squeeze before she followed the staff member into the change room.

Eve dabbed at the wetness forming in the corners of her eyes.

You can do this.

You should do it.

Her sister and her best friend deserved her support. Not only that, they expected it. Perhaps she needed this to cure herself of her feelings for Spider. What other choice did she have?

She could hear Phoebe's attendant speaking from behind the curtain.

‘Wow! You're absolutely tiny. Look at that waist. I think you must be the smallest bride I've seen today.'

‘You're joking,' Phoebe's voice sounded flustered.

‘I swear it on my mother's grave.'

Her poor mother must be getting very uncomfortable in there by now.

The curtain flung open and Phoebe came out, ethereally beautiful in lace. ‘That dress looks fantastic on you,' the sales assistant gushed behind her. ‘Are you sure you want to try on the satin one?'

‘What do you think, Eve?' her sister asked. ‘You always know what looks best on me.'

It wasn't a false compliment. As teenagers, Eve, Phee and Tash had loved exchanging clothes and dressing up together. They were always swapping accessories and doing each other's make-up. They'd had so much practice, you could say they were experts on what looked best on each other. Their wardrobes at Tawny Brooks had almost been completely interchangeable. So much so that it became difficult to identify what belonged to who any more. Their female friends used to marvel at the diversity of their clothes because they would all add things to the wardrobe that was their own particular style. The Maxwell sisters were never at a loss for any occasion.

‘How can we get access?' their girlfriends had always asked.

Eve and her sisters would just exchange a look and laugh. ‘Club members only.'

The memories caused a rush of warmth. ‘I think you look wonderful, Phee. But we'll try on the other just to be sure. I wouldn't want to give my sister an uninformed opinion.' She paused before adding lightly, ‘Speaking of opinions, I guess I should be there to renovate the restaurant with you guys as well. I wouldn't want to miss the opportunity to contribute my two cents' worth.'

Phoebe's eyes lit up. ‘Seriously?'

She nodded and Phoebe rushed forward, throwing her arms about her. ‘That's brilliant, Eve! Thank you so much. You won't be sorry you did.'

Eve smiled sadly over her shoulder.
Oh, I very much fear I will.

Phoebe Maxwell had a secret.

A truly awful secret that wasn't hers to share. If it was, she would have moved permanently to Tawny Brooks and shifted heaven and earth to find the appropriate professional help. Instead, she had to be content to watch from afar and suffer her own helplessness.

She had sworn that she wouldn't tell a single soul.

Including her fiancé.

That was a test of willpower on its own. She told Spider everything. He was by far the sweetest, most giving person she knew and would have stayed up all night holding her hand to keep her from crying herself to sleep. But she couldn't tell him. So instead she stifled her tears in her pillow. During the day, she managed to fill her mind with activities to stop herself from thinking about it.

Eight-thirty to three she focused all her energy on her students at Busselton Primary, a school thirty minutes from her home in the neighbouring town of Dunsborough. After school, she helped Spider with the television show called
Spider's Kitchen
that he filmed locally and sold to the Channel Nine network. In her meagre spare time, she threw herself into wedding planning. Keeping busy kept her positive. And of all the Maxwell sisters, this was definitely Phoebe's greatest skill.

When she'd broken her leg at age seven she'd covered it in glow-in-the-dark fairy stickers and become the envy of all her friends. After university when she hadn't been able to score a job in Perth she'd come home and met Spider – the love of her life. When Eve and Tash had fallen out months ago, leaving her the piggy-in-the-middle, she'd taken the opportunity to get closer to both sisters. And that had worked beautifully until recently.

Whatever the case, perhaps this was the reason why she'd been permitted to know the secret in the first place. She was the only Maxwell capable of finding a way to put a positive spin on it.

If
that was even possible.

How could she mask a future that was going to rip her family apart? And then she realised something. Her family was already broken.

Once so tightly knit, the Maxwells were now distant at best. She barely spoke to, let alone saw much of her sisters any more. Where had all that closeness gone? Whatever happened to ‘Club members only'?

Surely their different geographic locations wasn't the only thing to blame for their lack of communication. Phones, email, texting, Skype, Facetime, Facebook, Twitter. Did they really have an excuse not to stay in touch regularly? The only person to make an effort, in fact, was her mother. Though, Phoebe realised guiltily, how often she groaned when she received that call. Small and vibrant with dark Greek features only slightly fading with age, Anita Maxwell did not have the ‘crazy gene' but made up for it with her tendency to worry about anything and everything.

In any event, it was because of this complete and utter family breakdown that Phoebe had come to a decision one night.

‘We should have the wedding at Tawny Brooks.'

Spider, who had been reading a book on the couch opposite hers, looked up and smiled. ‘You're speaking your thoughts out loud again, love.'

‘Am I?' She looked across at him, marvelling again that he was hers. He had a smile that could melt steel, a floppy brown fringe that often fell in his laughing eyes. Tall and gangly, he was a far cry from the kind of man she used to think was her type. Spider's look was more intellectual than brawny, more boyish than manly, more sincere than smooth. And yet one look from him made her heart race faster than a Japanese bullet train. He was perfect for her and she could not have been more happy or satisfied that in just six months' time they would be husband and wife.

‘My family needs some time together.' At last she had something to aim for, something that made her feel better about the dreadful knowledge she carried around inside of her.

‘I think your family will come together wherever we have the wedding.' Spider's brow furrowed.

‘No,' Phoebe had shaken her head, ‘I don't just mean in the same room. I mean, close again. It has to be at home with all our memories.'

‘Even the bad ones?' Spider grimaced.

She nodded. ‘Especially those. There are some things we Maxwells have swept under the rug for far too long. Do you mind, darl? Do you mind if we get married at Tawny Brooks?'

He raised his eyebrows, a wry, resigned smile twisting his mouth. ‘Are you sure your father would want that?'

It was a known fact that, for some reason, John Maxwell wasn't all too fond of his future son-in-law. His manner towards him was often abrupt and rather dismissive. Phoebe had tried many times to ascertain the cause of her father's rudeness but could not put it down to anything beyond her father being a cantankerous old man with a dislike for any male who dared lay a finger on his daughter. It was that attitude that had kept her from visiting Tawny Brooks more often. And in hindsight, she realised, there was a lot she had missed.

Her mouth hardened. ‘He's going to have to like it. He can't keep carrying on like a toddler because he doesn't get his way.'

It was Spider's turn to frown. ‘That's what I worry about, Phee. You can't force people to behave a certain way just because you think they should.'

‘I know,' Phoebe grinned mischievously. ‘But I can try. It's no fun having two sisters who won't speak to each other, a father who won't accept my fiancé and a mother who's going crazy because of it all. I just want things to go back to normal.'

‘Are you sure there is a normal?'

‘If we get everyone together, we might be able to find out. Besides, don't you think it'll be special? Tawny Brooks is where we first met.'

‘How could I forget? You bowled me over.
Literally
.'

‘That's right, I ran you over with my car, didn't I?' Her eyes twinkled at the memory. ‘Forgot to look before reversing in the restaurant car park.'

‘You say it with so much remorse.'

‘Well, you did look rather cute on the ground covered in cake.'

‘Eve was extremely upset about that cake. It was for a function. We had to improvise really quickly.'

‘And I helped, didn't I?' she protested. ‘I was in the kitchen with you guys all night so you could catch up.'

‘And my fate was sealed.' He gazed fondly at her.

‘There you see,' she sobered as her thoughts returned to their wedding plans, ‘that's where it all began. Let's get married at Tawny Brooks, Spider. What do you say?'

He had studied her for a long moment in that way that was only his. He was reading her, weighing up her need against his own. And, as she knew he would, he put hers first.

‘All right,' he agreed with a wry smile, ‘it's not like my mother won't be over the moon. She's been hankering for an invitation to Tawny Brooks ever since we got engaged.'

With all her own emotional upheaval in the background, she had completely forgotten about Spider's mother. But Patricia Fitzwilliam had definitely not forgotten about her. In fact, her future mother-in-law was probably even more dedicated to her son's wedding than Phoebe was. She called her incessantly, wanting to be in on every detail.

‘How are things going with her?' Spider asked. ‘Are you guys getting along?'

How did you tell your future husband that you wished his mother would back off a bit,
especially
after you just asked him to have his wedding at your family home?

‘Y-yes, she's lovely.'

‘Do I detect a note of hesitancy?'

Phoebe racked her brain for an excuse she could use. ‘It's just a little hard discussing things over the phone, you know.'

His eyes lit up. ‘I'm so glad you mentioned that because I was just thinking we could go up to Perth for a week to get a few things organised. I mean, with you having taken two school terms off work to make things easier. Why not? You and Mum could bond.'

She hoped the smile on her face did not look too fake. She really didn't want to become the stereotypical daughter-in-law who couldn't get along with her husband's mother. So she'd put on her most enthusiastic teacher voice, one she always whipped out for these sorts of occasions.

‘That sounds like a great idea. Why don't you go ahead and book it in? In the meantime, I'll make the trek over to Tawny Brooks. Gotta ask Mum and Dad if we can have the wedding at their place.'

‘Yes,' he beamed back, ‘that would probably be a good idea. Do you want me to come?'

‘No, it's okay. I think I can handle it.'

The truth was, she hadn't wanted anything to turn her fiancé off getting married at her childhood home, least of all her moody father, whom she was absolutely determined to keep an eye on.

Since she'd moved out last year, she hadn't paid much attention to her parents. It had been too easy to get lost in her own life and schedule with Spider. Now she wished she had visited home more often. In the last few months there had been some big changes at Tawny Brooks, amongst other things.

For starters, her father had retired ‘too early' in her mother's opinion. Having all that time off had certainly brought out more ‘crazy' in him. By all accounts, he'd gone off the rails. And for ‘Mad Maxwell', that was definitely saying something.

‘I think it's a midlife crisis,' her mother had told her the previous week. ‘Why else would he buy a new car totally unsuitable for rural living or want to go bungee jumping in the middle of the afternoon? I knew he shouldn't have retired just yet. He has too much energy.'

Phoebe shook her head sadly over the matter. She thought her father was looking much frailer of late. The other day when she'd dropped in unannounced she'd caught him sleeping in the sitting room. Her mother had said it was because he'd been up partying all night with his cronies. In particular, with one Horace Franklin who owned the winery next door. This in itself was strange as the Franklins and the Maxwells had been mortal enemies from day one, especially when it came to wine.

To allow for her father's retirement and daytime shenanigans, they had employed a winemaker named Adam Carter to run Tawny Brooks. Adam was nice enough, but she did feel that for a person who was not a member of the family, he was around far too much. Her parents allowed him to live on the property. Even when Spider was working at the restaurant fulltime he had kept a unit in Dunsborough.

She imagined it was because her mother needed someone to call when her father went off on another of his mystery jaunts, which he did at least a couple of times a week. He was certainly nowhere to be found the day Phoebe dropped by to ask permission to hold the wedding at Tawny Brooks.

 

The front door to the Maxwell residence was always unlocked, so she just walked straight into the large timber and stone house built to enjoy panoramic views of the surrounding vineyard.

She found her mother cooking in a large seventies style kitchen, with a broad kitchen counter and exposed brick walls. ‘Hey, Mum!'

‘Darling!' Her mother left her mound of chocolate chip cookie dough on the bench and came round to hug her. ‘I was just about to call you. Would you like a drink?'

She went to the fridge and drew out a jug of cold water, which she poured in a tall glass before Phoebe could answer. ‘You know I saw on the news the other day that three people were rushed to hospital with dehydration because they had not had enough fluids.'

Phoebe picked up the water and took a tentative sip. ‘Weren't they sun baking on the beach or something?'

Anita's dark eyes glinted. ‘Oh, so you saw it too. That's good. Then you know how important it is to drink water.'

‘Mum, I can assure you, I get plenty of fluids during the day.'

‘I just worry, sweetheart, what with everything that's going on in your life, you forget.'

She sighed. ‘I don't forget, Mum. When I'm thirsty I drink.'

‘But eight glasses? That's supposed to be the daily intake. Although it's rather ambiguous, don't you think, because who knows what size glass most people have in their pantry? I mean, what if you have really small cups in your cupboard. In that case, wouldn't you then need to drink extra to make up the quota?'

‘Er … I guess so.'

‘What size are your glasses, sweetheart? Are you still using those squat little tumblers I saw in your cupboard the last time I visited? You really should throw those out, you know. Get some new ones. Do you want me to get some for you?'

‘No, that's okay, Mum,' Phoebe said quickly. ‘Don't worry about it.'

‘Are you sure because I'm happy to go out and buy some for you.'

‘No, I don't want you to go to any trouble.'

Her mother tapped her chin. ‘In fact, come to think of it, I have some lovely glasses in a box in the roof that I never put in our cupboard because there wasn't enough room. Perfectly good glasses, brand new too. Why don't I get them and you can pop them in the boot of your car before you go?'

‘No thanks, Mum.'

‘Don't be silly. They're just going to waste up there. Your father and I don't need that many glasses in our kitchen cupboards.'

‘Mum,' she grabbed her arm as though trying to shake her out of a stupor, ‘
I've got enough glasses
.'

‘Oh, all right.' Her mother hunched her shoulders. ‘But if you're going to use those dreadful tumblers for water, make sure you drink nine glasses not eight, won't you?'

Phoebe had no idea how many glasses of water she drank per day and had no intention of starting to keep track, but she knew it was easier to agree and move on than to protest.

‘Okay sure, nine glasses it is.'

Her mother sighed and bit her lip apologetically. ‘I'm annoying you, aren't I? I can hear it in your voice.'

Obviously, it was a trick question. If she agreed, she would risk hurting her mother's feelings and thus be stuck talking about nothing for another half an hour so that she could soothe them. If she denied it, her mother would extend the lecture on the merits of water drinking further to fully satisfy her interest. It was a lose–lose situation. So she decided to try to change the subject instead and said brightly, ‘I have news!'