The Ripple Effect (20 page)

“I went to the post office and asked if I could photocopy the relevant pages.”

“And they let you?”

“The guy who works there is cute,” Mel said casually. “He took them out the back and did it for me.”

“He probably thought you’d tear the pages out if he didn’t,” said Joelle.

“I would’ve.” Mel grinned. “It’s taken me ages to get this organised, Joey. Now I’m getting writer’s cramp.” She stood up and stretched her arms over her head. Her interlaced finger joints crackled and popped. “Sorry, know you hate it when I do that.” She grimaced and lowered her arms.

Joelle hadn’t even noticed the cracking knuckle sound, so consumed was she by the facts before her eyes, but she swallowed her instinctive burst of protective jealousy. Shay was a free agent. They were all working towards the same goal and Mel was doing her best to help. She really was. Joelle smiled. What a change in her little sister.

“Thanks Mel. That’s fantastic. How many Graysons are there, do you think?”

Joelle picked up the photocopied pages and skimmed the names. One of them may be a relative. More than one. A staggering thought. She sat down on the chair Mel had been using.

“Hundreds, I’d say, by the time we cover the state. What about ads in the papers? We should put something in the major dailies in the cities, I reckon.”

“I thought of that too. We can easily do it online.”

Mel went to the kitchen and opened the fridge. “Drink?” she called.

“Juice, please.”

Mel came back with two glasses filled with orange juice.

“No beer?” Joelle raised an eyebrow and smiled.

“Dr Ceely gave me some leaflets to read and I’ve been to the library, too.” Mel indicated a stack of books on the next dining chair. Joelle took the top one off the pile.

“‘Your Baby and You’,” she read. “‘How to give your baby the best start in life.’ Sounds good.”

“One of them’s got photos of the baby inside its mother at all the different stages. It’s wild. I’m fourteen weeks now. Look.” Mel found the book and flipped through until she reached the page she wanted.

“Oh, wow,” exclaimed Joelle. “So your baby looks like this? Amazing.”

“Isn’t it?” Mel sat down with shining eyes. Joelle watched her face as she pored over the photo of the amorphous little blob, only vaguely discernible as a new human being. One hand unconsciously moved to her abdomen and rubbed gently as though already caressing her child.

“You’ll be a wonderful mother, Mel,” she murmured. “Boy or girl, do you think?”

“I want a boy,” Mel said decisively. “Life’s easier for boys.”

“I don’t know about that,” objected Joelle. “Shay’s life hasn’t been any easier than mine. Surely it depends on heaps of other things.”

“Boys don’t get pregnant.”

No arguing with that but… “Remember what Shay said, though, about needing a father? Men love their children just as much as mothers do and most of them want to help care for them.” Joelle hesitated, decided. Added, “Given the chance.”

Mel sighed and leaned back in her chair. She closed the book. “You think I should tell him.”

“I think he deserves to know. What Shay said is true. Not knowing who your parents are is terrible. It may not worry some people of course, but imagine when your child finds out you deliberately kept his father from him. The way I did.”

“I don’t know where he is,” said Mel softly. “He’s a guitar player in a band.”

“Was it a one night stand?” Mel, the groupie? Surely not. Surely she had more self respect than that.

“No. I’m not that easy, Jo,” Mel retorted with a resurgence of the old scoffing disdain for her sister’s opinions.

“Sorry. Well, why don’t you know where he is?”

“His band tours a lot and I lost his mobile phone number—actually I deleted it. They went up north for six weeks and just before they left we had a great big fight.”

“And he didn’t know you were pregnant.”

“No. Neither did I.”

“When’s he due back?”

“About last week.”

“Do you think he’ll come to see you?”

Mel shrugged. “Doubt it. He won’t find me anyway because no-one knows where I am except you, and he doesn’t know your name or anything.”

Joelle bit back her exasperation. At least Mel was talking, opening up and telling her things she’d never dreamed of hearing from her. “Why won’t he try to find you? How long have you known him?”

“Six months.”

“What’s his name?”

“Luke Smith.”

Joelle studied Mel, a frown creasing her brow. She screwed up her mouth in consternation. How to make Mel more amenable to this Luke?

“But he’s got your number, hasn’t he?”

“I lost my phone. Can’t afford another one.”

“Mel…” There were any numbers of ways to contact Luke if she wanted to. She must know that.

“What?”

“It’s not fair. Just give the guy a chance.”

“He’s not interested in having a baby, believe me.” Mel sprang to her feet and took their empty glasses to the kitchen. “He’s not even interested in me anymore.”

“Are you interested in him?” Joelle stood as well.

Mel didn’t answer. Her head was bowed over the sink as she rinsed the glasses. An unmistakeable sniff carried over the sound of running water.

“He deserves to know, Mel,” Joelle said softly coming to lean on the bench facing her sister. “What did you fight about?”

“Stuff,” came the muttered reply. Mel grabbed the kitchen towel and wiped her eyes. “He wanted me to move in with him and I said I didn’t want…” She stopped and gave a harsh bitter-sounding laugh.

“Didn’t want what?” prompted Joelle.

Mel raised her head and met Joelle’s gaze defiantly. “Didn’t want to be tied down. I told him I was too young to commit myself to one guy. Some joke on me, huh? Look at me now—up to the neck in commitment.”

“Sounds as though he might love you.” Joelle grinned. “Can’t imagine why.” Mel offered a tiny smile in return. Joelle said, “If he does love you it must have hurt him a lot, telling him that—the bit about one guy.”

“He hit the roof and accused me of cheating on him. I told him to get lost and no way was I going to commit myself to a guy who didn’t trust me.”

Joelle sighed. “You have to find him and sort it out.”

“Do you think so?” The voice and words were reluctant but the manner was decidedly positive. Joelle could tell by the hopeful expression. She wanted Luke but was too stubborn and independent to say so.

“Yes. Absolutely.”

Melanie opened the fridge and took out a covered dish.

“What’s that?”

“Marinating chicken breasts. We’re having chicken Caesar salad.”

“Delish!”

“By the way,” said Mel as she poked at the chicken with a fork, turning the pieces about in the strongly wine and garlic scented marinade. “Have you called Paul back yet? He keeps leaving messages for you.”

“He’s called my mobile too.” Joelle wrinkled her nose. “I don’t know what to say to him.”

“It’ll come to you when you talk to him.”

“I haven’t seen him since he went off in a huff just before Mum’s birthday. I figured we’d split up and to tell you the truth I haven’t given him a thought since.”

“Ring him and find out what he wants.”

Joelle sat staring glumly at Melanie. The last thing she wanted to do was talk to Paul.

“Go on. Get it over with. You want me to talk to Luke—you phone Paul. Your job’s much easier than mine.”

Joelle slid off her stool and went to the phone. He answered on the second ring.

“Joelle. Where have you been? Why haven’t you answered my calls?” Indignant and cross. No broken-hearted pretence. No ‘how are you?’ No ‘I’m sorry’. No ‘I’ve missed you.’ Just wounded ego. This would be easier than she’d imagined.

“Hello Paul. A lot’s happened. I’ve been busy.”

“Too busy to call?”

“I’ve been preoccupied. I’m sorry. Family stuff.”

“Oh. Okay. So are you over your little tizzy?”

Teeth gritted, eyes narrowed. Joelle breathed deeply and consciously relaxed her jaw muscles. She said in a monotone, “What do you want, Paul?”

“What do you mean what do I want?

“Why are you ringing?”

“Does there have to be a reason?”

“No, I don’t suppose so, it’s just I’d rather you didn’t unless…” She paused. Wrong. No unless. “I don’t think this is working out for either of us, Paul.”

“I see,” he said after a moment’s silence. “You’ve found another guy. Right? That guy who came into the shop and invited you out for coffee,” he finished accusingly.

He was dead right. She had found another guy. “Yes,” Joelle said. “Except he’s not just any guy, he’s my brother.”

“You don’t have a brother,” he exclaimed furiously.

“I discovered recently that I’m adopted, Paul. And I do have a brother. He found me.” This was like the confessions recovering alcoholics make. It was rather a cathartic experience, Joelle discovered. “I’m sorry for not returning your calls but you can see why I’ve been distracted.”

“Christ. Adopted?”

“Yes. It’s been a very emotional time.”

“Fine. Right, well. I suppose you have been a bit…listen, give me a call sometime.”

“Maybe. Good bye, Paul.”

“Bye. I guess I’ll see you around, Joelle.”

Joelle replaced the receiver gently on its cradle. “Well well,” she said, quite bemused by his reaction and his swift retreat. “Fancy that. He couldn’t get away fast enough when he heard my news. Why would that be?”

“I think the word ‘emotional’ probably did the trick,” called Mel from the balcony where she was sitting with her bare feet up on the railing.

Joelle came to lean on the railing and stare at the view. Lights were beginning to twinkle out along the sea front and over on the distant headland. The last red and purple rays of the setting sun spread out over the still flatness of the dusky grey ocean.

“The last girlfriend a jerk like Paul wants is an emotionally needy wreck.”

Joelle laughed. “Thanks a lot. There’s so much wrong with that statement I can’t begin to comment.”

“You can’t deny he likes uncomplicated fun with his uncomplicated women.”

“How do you know so much about him?” Women? Plural? What was Mel on about? Hadn’t she been his only woman? To the point where they were invited as a couple and Viv expected a proposal any day?

“I get around. I hear things.”

“Have you dated him?” asked Joelle, her voice almost rising to a surprised squeak.

“Not bloody likely. Give me a break. No, Annie told me about him and I’ve seen him at a few of the clubs.”

“Not with me, though.” He’d never mentioned going clubbing and never suggested it either. So much for Paul’s devotion.

“No. He spreads himself around.”

“Good, I don’t feel half so bad at giving him the flick now,” Joelle said grimly. Perhaps if she’d been more enamoured she would have noticed something.

“I doubt he’ll be pining away, Jo.”

“Certainly doesn’t sound like it.”

Darkness had stolen in while they’d been discussing Paul. A cool breeze sprang up from nowhere, rustling amongst the treetops, causing Joelle to shiver involuntarily. She rubbed her bare arms.

“I’m going in. I have to write an ad.”

“For Graysons?” Mel swung her feet down from the railing and hoisted herself out of her canvas chair.

“No, for the shop.” Joelle waited for Mel to leave the balcony then slid the glass door closed. She headed for her bedroom to change into something warmer. “Tracey wants to go part time which is a real pain because she’s terrific. She’s moving in with her father. He’s having a series of operations.”

“I could do it.” Mel had followed Joelle and now leaned against the doorframe.

Joelle glanced up from pulling on a sock. “Look after Tracey’s father?”

“No. Work in the shop.”

“But you’re…” Joelle hesitated. She looked at Mel’s face and saw an unaccustomed expression—apprehension mixed with eagerness and a touch of desperation. Instead of finishing the sentence she’d started—‘you’re unreliable and unqualified and generally hopeless’—she adapted it. “I suppose it could work out,” she murmured. “Tracey said for a few months until her Dad gets back on his feet so that would suit you.”

“I could do with the money,” said Mel. “I quit my other job at the pizza place.”

And the one at the newsagent and the waitressing and the one at the motel and the list went on.

“You’d have to turn up regularly,” said Joelle sternly. “And work hard and do what you were told. It’d be mornings. You could come in with me and finish at one. Plus you’d be on Saturday mornings. And you have to be polite to everybody—stupid, rude or whatever.”

Mel beamed. “I would, Jo, promise. Pregnancy has made me more bovine. Lucky I don’t get morning sickness, isn’t it?”

Joelle smiled and slipped a sweater over her head. Mel couldn’t do too much damage while she and Viv were there. Pregnancy had changed her, she was right about that. “You’d do deliveries and serve in the shop seeing as how you don’t know about floristry.”

“I can do that. Cool. Thanks, Jo. When do I start?”

“I’ll ring Tracey and tell her I’ve got it covered. Maybe Monday.”

“What’s the pay?” asked Mel and ducked as Joelle tossed a slipper at her.

Shay slogged through his work at the practice and his shifts at the hospital. Easter approached at a snail’s pace. Talking to Joelle on the phone and via email was a poor substitute for seeing her pretty face smiling at him with such wonder and excitement.

They alternated their calls—he rang one time, she rang the next. Since their day together, they called each other every couple of days, slipping quickly into a comfortable and natural routine. She was his confidante, his friend, in a strange way far closer than his other siblings had ever been. Far closer than any of his girlfriends. The tie of a common blood pulsing in their veins. How had he ever managed without her?

They barely discussed the missing relatives. It didn’t seem very important now that they’d found each other. It would take a lifetime to discover all there was about this wonderful girl, his sister, without complicating the issue so soon.

Fortunately, Mel had proven an enthusiastic assistant in the Grayson search and, apart from the ads he’d already placed in various newspapers around the country, he’d happily turned over most of the work to her. Now the letters were in the mail their contact was minimal. Mel told him she’d put Joelle’s as the return address so she could monitor the results.