The Quilt (31 page)

He shrugged and didn’t bother finishing his sentence.

“Come on, I will follow you home.  I’ll make you a nice cup of sweet tea and you can have a shower to get that vomit off yourself.” He wrinkled his nose “There is nothing else you can do for her at the moment.”

Sandy sp
ent five days in hospital while intravenous antibiotics battled with pneumonia and a staphylococcus infection.  It was the first time Joanne had even considered that Sandy might not survive this disease.

Joanne had not heard her come out of the room.  Sandy just seemed to appear in front of her, a drawn, haunted face clutching a white pillowslip.  She held it out; her eyes searching, tears running down her cheeks.  It wasn’t as if this was unexpected, but the sight of her long threads of red hair clinging to the material, clogging the shower and filling her hairbrush was physical evidence of her sickness.

“Joanne.
  My hair!”

Joanne walked in
to the bathroom without saying a word.  She locked the door and sobbed.  In the mirror she studied the tiredness in her own face and without giving herself time to reconsider she pulled her thick blonde hair back and tied it securely.  With a pair of sharp scissors Joanne cut above the band.
She would donate it to the organization that made wigs for those suffering from this horrible disease.  She then took the electric shaver and removed the remainder of her hair. 

“What the hell have you done?”

Sandy stared her jaw slack.
  She then burst into fits of laughter. It had been a long time since Joanne had heard that sound. 

“It is your turn now
.”

They shaved
off the scraggly remainder of red that clung to Sandy’s scalp.

“Tomorrow
, we will go shopping for bandanas.”

Chapter 29

“Christmas”

Chloe sat in her normal chair.  Her long, plaited hair fell in a thick, midnight-black rope over her thin shoulders.

“No one here is on dut
y tonight?” Geoff looked around the room and answered his own question.

“I will get some beer
.”

“Talking about being on duty
, I stood in for Chris last night and saw that mad redhead woman with the mural on her boat.  The blonde woman was on board as well.  They are both completely bald and look like hell.”

Chloe’s eyes settled on Paul.  She studied the
slight tension that had formed in his jaw before speaking.

“Are you sure?”

“Of course, I am.   We went over to speak to them.   I wanted to make sure they still had their lifejackets on board and had purchased the safety equipment that Geoff recommended.” 

Joanne arrived at work to find Simon standing in the kitchen with his hands on either side of his head in an exaggerated display of panic. 

“Kate has just handed in her notice.  It is only a few weeks until Christmas and how am I expected to get someone trained to take over from her?”

“No problem, I can do extra shifts.  Sandy is going home for two weeks over Christmas and both of my parents are going to be overseas.”

“What about the chemotherapy?  How much longer has she got to go before she has finished?”

“The course is three months in total.”

Joanne did a quick calculation
.

“That would make her
over three quarters of the way through.” 

“Would you have time to learn Kate’s duties before she leaves?  I think y
ou would be an ideal choice for managing the staff.” 

“
I think it would be good for me to learn more about hospitality and keep myself busy.  But you know, I can only accept if I can arrange time off to take Sandy for what is left of her treatment.”

“Darling
, of course, that goes without saying!” 

Jean and Sean settled into the two bedroom workers cottage.  It was a small, weatherboard building situated close to the entry gates of the vineyard.  It had originally been constructed as a temporary dwelling for Mari and Sid while the main house was being designed and built.  The cottage did not have a view over the harbour but it was bathed in all day sun, and nestled snuggly on the edge of the vines.

It took two hou
rs for them to walk around the vineyard and orchard, look at the buildings and for Jean to wander through the main house. 

“I can see why you went ahead and purchased the property.  Despite my reservations
, I think you have done well.  Can we access the beach?”

The track was now clearly
defined and the foliage had been removed.  But the gradient was steep and Jean decided against joining them.  The two men walked to the water’s edge.

“How is retirement?” 

Sean stopped and picked up a flat stone, he skimmed it across the water’s surface before answering.

“I don’t think I have ever been this bored in my life
. I am finding the transition to town life hard, especially after spending my previous years on a property like Twin Pines. Jess is looking well.”

H
e threw a stick for the old dog.

“I think the mild climate here has helped her arthritis.
  What are you planning to do?”

“
We want to travel again, perhaps to France next time,” he shrugged dismissively.

“We had better head back.  Who knows what
your mother has got up to.” 

Mari and Sid arrived to find Jean standing alone in the tasting room running her hands over the smooth edges of the table.  She looked up and smiled.

“You must get Paul to tell you about the tree that was felled to make this
.  It is quite a story.”

Sid walked forward with his hand extended
.

“I think what we should do
, is open a bottle of reserve and toast to that tree.”

Paul stood in the doorway, watching, as Sid raised his glass towards the light.

“Where are Mari and Jean?”

“In the kitchen and my advice would be to stay well clear of them.  They are discussing the Christmas catering and it appears they have quite different points of view on the subject.  You must be Sean?”

Sid slowly stood up and poured two more glasses of wine
.

“Tell me
, would you like to go fishing?”

They gathered to discuss the crew rosters for the holiday period.  Several members were away and family commitments limited the time available for many of the others.

“When are you available
, Paul?”

“I am happy to be on call over the whole Christmas period.  In fact
, I look forward to getting a call out if means time away from Jean and Mari.”

There was a general ripple of amusement that ran around the room. 

“I can imagine.  I have seen that Sid is out on the water nearly every day at the moment.”

Paul laughed
.

“
He needs some moments of quiet. The only thing Mari and Jean have agreed on is where to have the Christmas meal.”   

By Christmas day the chaos had slowly returned to order and the noise had toned down to the occasional fit of raucous laughter.

T
he sun shone through vivid clusters of purple grapes and delicate green vine leaves as they wove their way through the rustic, wooden pergola overhead. Paul settled back, absorbing the easy relaxed atmosphere and allowing the conversation to wash over him.

The long
, sunny afternoon faded into the warm, musky evening. 

They enjoyed b
ottles of the vineyard’s best wines, accompanied by the continuous plates of traditional Italian and New Zealand Christmas food.

The meal was finished with s
trong espresso and limoncello served with tiny bocconotti as the sun slipped over the horizon and tiny stars dotted the night sky in pinpricks of light.

A silence fell over the content group, broken only by the soft hoot of a nearby
owl. 

Paul glanced at his mother, her head was drifting slow
ly to one side and her eyes had become heavy and unfocused. 

“I think
, perhaps, it is time for someone to get some sleep.” 

Sean did not respond
, his attention was focused on the café’s interior.

“You need something on that wall
,” he said, poking his unsteady finger at the building.

“Yes
, but what? It is such a long wall and visible from the time you enter the restaurant.  There is plenty of time to do the finishing decorations.  We still have to get the health inspection done and find someone to run the restaurant.”

“Judging from the meal
we have just had, the choice should be obvious,” Sid winked at Jean.

A frown spread over Sean’s face
.

“The idea of moving off Twin Pines was to
retire and the commute from the King Country would be a little too far.  What about you Mari?”

They faded in
to silence for a moment.

“Maybe Paul should find
a good looking wife that can cook.”

Sid roared with laughter.

Paul looked down and studied his hands.    There was a moment of silence before every startled head turned to Jean.

“He’s ruined
,” she wailed.

Sean looked at his wife in alarm.

“That Leslie, she ruined him!” Jean sobbed on.

Paul groaned
. Christmas Day was over.  He followed Sean and Sid as they quickly walked away from the table.

Mari knocked before nervously entering the house.

“Your m
other is concerned about you.”

“No kidding
,” Paul smiled in mock surprise.

“I assume she
has told you about my marriage to Leslie?”

“
Yes, and I know it really is none of my business.  But do you think there is any substance in what she says?”

Paul considered this for a moment.

“I look at what you and Sid have and I know that is what I want in a relationship.  I am not interested in settling for anything less.  Even if that means I will have to remain on my own.  If I ever do commit to another woman, she will be the person that I intend to grow old with. No offence intended.”

“
No offence taken,” Mari laughed.

“I w
as married and divorced before I was twenty, Mari.  I would prefer to stay single rather than clock up another disaster before I am thirty.”

Mari nodded
. 

“I understand. 
But be careful, Paul.  Carrying that sort of weight on your back will make you hunch over and you might not see her when she walks by.”

Paul laughed.

“You’re quite the philosopher.  Now, what have you given that wayward mother of mine for her hangover?”

Joanne sat pushing the juicy pieces of turkey around on her plate.  How could she have imaged cooking a Christmas meal for one would have ever made it feel normal?  She picked up her plate and scraped the food into Critters bowl.

Earlier in the day h
er parents had dutifully rung from their different corners of the world.  Her mother described an overcast day in Chicago, her voice raised so that she could be heard over the sound of the sirens and her father had spoken briefly, complaining about the sleet and snow that was blanketing London.

They had decorated the tree
a week earlier.  It was a fragile specimen draped in disproportionate lengths of silver tinsel. Already the tiny needles were turning to the dull brown of death and forming a thin carpet on the floor. 

A loud knock on the door startled Joanne
.  She had been contemplating vacuuming to remove the dead foliage.

“Joanne
, let me in! I have mulled wine and Christmas cake.” 

She smiled and opened the door to the flamboyant Simon
.

“You don’t think I would leave my favourite employee to celeb
rate Christmas Day by herself, do you?” He studied her face, “why so sad?”

“Apart from the fact I am indulging in an evening of
self-pity, I am professionally derailed and the dog won’t even eat the meal I cooked for myself.”

Simon looked pointedly at the plate of food that sat untouched on the
floor.  He walked to the stovetop and put on the mulled wine to warm.

“Yes
, apart from that?”

“Sandy and I decorated the tree a few days ago
.”

“
I can see why that would make you feel sad.”

Joanne ignored him and continued talking
.

“She asked me where we would be this time next year.   I realised I have been living in segments of twenty four hours. 
I have no direction that doesn’t involve Sandy.  When she recovers she will resume her life, not undamaged but able to pick things up from the point before she became breast cancer.  Where will I be?”

Simon watched her thoughtfully
.

“Has it ever occurred to you she might not recover?”

“She is really positive at the moment.  Why would I think she isn’t going to recover?”

“You need to be realistic.  When you care for someone that is fighting a battle like cancer it is all consuming.  How can you think ahead about your own future when every day is a good day as long as Sandy wakes up in the morning?  Where did she see herself next Christmas
?”

Joanne ran her hands through the
soft down that had started to appear on her head. 

“She
predicts she will be pregnant.”

“That is tragic; doesn’t she understand she will probably be infertile after
the months of chemotherapy?”

“No
, I really don’t think she does.”

The heavy scent
of citrus and cloves warmed the room.  Simon ladled glasses full of the spicy mixture and cut thick slabs of moist cake before sitting down.

“Life doesn’t have to be planned years ahead. 
For now you just have to keeping walking the road you are on and see where it leads.”

“That was a long two weeks.”

Sandy was standing in the kitchen cradling Critter in her arms.