The Patterson Girls (19 page)

As they headed for his BMW, Hugo talked about his excruciating Christmas at Celia's parents' place in the Hamptons and how he'd spent the whole time wishing he was at work, or at least back in Baltimore. ‘My liver will likely never forgive me, but I had to drink myself silly so I didn't kill myself. Every time I visit Celia's family, I'm reminded why she lives so far away from them. Honestly, I'm sure they're insane.'

Madeleine laughed. ‘That accounts for the phone call on Christmas Eve.'

‘Shit. Did I say anything too embarrassing?' Hugo asked as they arrived at his car and he beeped it open.

‘I'm not telling, but I learnt some pretty interesting things,' Madeleine teased, shivering as the bitter winter wind cut through the multi-level hour-by-hour car park and sliced into her cheeks. The contrast in temperature between here and South Australia made it feel like she'd landed on another planet, not simply another continent.

Hugo opened the passenger door for her. ‘Get in before you catch your death.'

She obeyed, sliding into his luxurious leather seats as he stowed her luggage in the boot—no,
trunk
, she was back in America now—and then came round and slipped into the driver's seat beside her. ‘So,' he said as he pressed some buttons to inject instant heat into the car, ‘what was your family Christmas like?'

‘Fuck, where do I start?' Madeleine placed her hands in front of the heating vents, wishing she'd had the forethought to ask one of her neighbours to pop into her apartment and switch on the central heating.

‘That good hey?' Hugo chuckled as he navigated out of the car park. ‘Tell me all.'

So Madeleine sat back and relayed the debacle that was Christmas, with her dad's health scare and having to help out at the motel.

Hugo roared with laughter at the bit about cleaning the rooms. He'd obviously been very drunk when he'd called her because he couldn't remember any of it. ‘Well, I know who to call next time our cleaner quits,' he said, when his hysterics had finally subsided.

She shot him a glare. ‘You're lucky you're driving or I'd clock you over the head for that.'

‘Sorry.' Although he didn't sound very sorry at all. ‘So I guess we're both more than happy to get back to work.'

‘Oh yeah.' The weekend would be good to relax and recover from jet lag but as usual, she was itching to get back to the hospital. She was also itching to get the ball rolling on her baby project.

‘Madeleine? Are you all right?' Hugo's question startled her. She blinked, then looked out the window and realised she couldn't remember travelling the last few minutes.

‘Sure. Why?'

‘I asked you if you wanted me to stop at the shops for food or anything,' he explained, slowing as they hit a morning traffic jam. ‘You didn't answer. It was like you were in some kind of trance.'

She pursed her lips together, rubbing them one over the other as she contemplated whether or not to tell him what was on her mind. Part of her was desperate to tell Hugo her news—to share her excitement with a friend—but another part of her thought maybe she should keep it to herself a little longer, until she'd had a bit more time to think about the logistics.

The desperate Madeleine won out. ‘I'm going to have a baby.'

Hugo's shock was palpable. Normally a very confident and capable driver, he braked hard and fast, only narrowly missing a collision with the car in front. ‘What? Who's the father?'

‘That,' she said, ‘is where things get interesting.'

Chapter Thirteen

‘Are you sure you don't want me to stay a little longer?' Her voice shaky, Lucinda looked from Charlie to her dad and back to Charlie. She was waiting for Bob Tucker, the owner of the local hardware store, who'd volunteered to drive her to Adelaide for her flight home as he was heading that way for a meeting. On the one hand she couldn't wait to get home to Joe, but she was worried about leaving Dad and the motel with Charlie.

Her sister meant well but she didn't have the same high standards or attention to detail that Lucinda had and she was sometimes a little airy-fairy, which meant she might miss something important, like Dad not paying bills on time or worse, him not looking after his health or slipping into depression.

‘We'll be fine,' Charlie assured her, wrapping one arm around their father. ‘Won't we, Dad?'

‘Yep.' He nodded.

Lucinda sighed. ‘Don't overwork Mrs Sampson, make sure you take your medication, and—' A horn beeped behind her and she turned to see Bob leaning out the window of his crew-cab ute, Meadow Brook Hardware Supplies in big bold type on the side.

‘You ready?' he yelled and then pressed the horn again for good measure.

‘Stop stressing, love.' Dad stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her. ‘I've been doing this for a long time, and I really appreciate the break you girls have given me this last week. Charlie and I will make a good team, but you need to get back to your husband. And those kids.'

For a second, Lucinda flinched, thinking he meant her potential babies, but then she realised he was referring to her schoolchildren. She still had a few weeks until term one started and she hoped she'd summon some enthusiasm for her job again by then. It was hard teaching other people's kids day in, day out when all she wanted was to have a baby of her own.

‘Thanks, Dad. Please look after yourself.' She kissed him on the cheek. ‘I love you.'

‘I love you, too. Now be off with you.'

He patted her on the bum like he had when she was a child as she turned to Charlie. ‘Bye, little sis. Look after yourself and call me any time you need to.'

‘I will.' Charlie hugged her and then pulled away. ‘I've just remembered something. Hold on a moment.' She turned to race back inside the motel and Lucinda exchanged a confused look with Dad.

He shrugged and then walked across the tarmac to chat with Bob, who occasionally came into the motel for a drink and a game of pool. Lucinda threw her bags into the back of the ute and was starting back towards the motel when Charlie came running.

‘Here. I got this for you.' She handed Lucinda a tissue-paper wrapped parcel. ‘Mitch and I saw them at the markets in St Kilda and I thought of you.'

‘What is it?' The small package felt surprisingly heavy in her hands.

The horn beeped again before Charlie had the chance to answer.

‘Hurry up, love,' Dad called. ‘Bob has an appointment to get to.'

‘There's a card inside that explains everything,' Charlie said, before pulling Lucinda into a final hug. ‘I really hope it helps.'

Perplexed, Lucinda uttered her thanks and then, carrying the little parcel carefully, ran to catch her lift. She'd barely clicked in her seatbelt when Bob swerved away from the kerb and onto the highway.

‘You don't mind if we listen to talkback?' he asked, leaning forward to turn the volume up on his old car radio.

‘Not at all.' Feeling
blah
—she'd quite enjoyed the last few days of looking after Dad and being busy at the motel—she wasn't in the mood to make small talk anyway. As some monotone-voiced man drawled on about the Prime Minister needing a good kick up the bum, Lucinda zoned out into her own little world. She looked down at Charlie's present on her lap and started to unwrap it.

The white paper peeled back to reveal a shiny little bronze statue that looked like some female relation to Buddha. She frowned as she fingered the smooth surface and then noticed the little card attached.

‘A fertility statue?'

‘Huh?' Bob asked and she realised she'd spoken aloud. ‘What's that?'

‘Oh, nothing.' She quickly rewrapped Charlie's gift and then placed it on the floor by her feet. The last thing she wanted was to get into discussions about her fertility issues with Bob Tucker, who might discuss her woes with his customers—or worse, her dad. It had been hard enough confiding in her sisters, but she was glad she had. Madeleine had proved a big support discussing all things medical and she now felt confident to explain it all to Joe, which would hopefully convince him to agree to seek help. Abigail and Charlie had also been supportive and sympathetic, all three of them promising to send her and Joe positive thoughts.

She smiled, thinking about her sisters. Although it hadn't been the easiest trip home, they'd been forced to deal with their dad's health, the motel and their grief together, and it kind of felt like all that had brought them a little closer again.

Thanks to the dry voices of the talkback show, Lucinda dozed during the rest of the trip, catching up on much-needed sleep. Once at Adelaide airport, she thanked Bob for the lift and then trekked inside to check in.

Just as she was about to board, she got a text message from Joe.
Can't wait to see you. Travel safe. x
. She messaged him back and then switched off her phone ready to fly.

The house felt quiet without her sisters flittering around, so Charlie and Dad decided to eat dinner in the motel. Post Christmas and a day before New Years' Eve, the restaurant was quiet and they took turns getting up whenever someone needed serving in the bar.

Rob, excited to have someone to experiment on, emerged from the kitchen and laid a plate in front of Charlie. ‘Vegetarian Wellington,' he announced, putting on a weird accent and flourishing his hands in the air.

Charlie looked down at the immaculately presented dish and then grinned up at Rob. ‘It looks amazing.'

He nodded and then stood there expectantly. Charlie realised he was waiting for her to taste it. No pressure or anything. She picked up her knife and fork and cut off a chunk, then lifted it to her mouth and slipped it between her lips. And
oh my
! The flaky pastry crumbled and the flavours exploded on her tongue. She swallowed the first mouthful and, already forking up the second, looked up to Rob. ‘That,' she pronounced, ‘is possibly the best thing I've ever tasted. Put it on the menu. Right away.'

A smile burst across Rob's weathered face and his chest puffed up proudly.

Charlie looked to her father. ‘That is, if it's okay with you, Dad.'

‘Of course it is.' He took a sip of his beer and then gave a satisfied sigh. ‘You're back as my right-hand girl, sweetheart, so you can make executive decisions like that on your own.'

‘In that case, I'm having this every day.' She put the second mouthful into her mouth and if anything it was better than the first.

Rob beamed. ‘I've got plenty of other recipes to try out now you're here. I love making vegetarian dishes.'

‘All well and good, but where's my steak?' Dad asked gruffly.

Charlie rolled her eyes and Rob laughed. ‘Sorry, boss.' Then he turned and headed back into the kitchen to get it.

Once Dad's steak had arrived, he and Charlie talked between mouthfuls. It was the first time she'd had him to herself for as long as she could remember. They talked about her sisters and then moved on to how they would divvy up the duties in the motel.

‘I'm thinking we need to put ourselves on the roster,' Charlie said, wondering if she should go grab a pen and paper. Lucinda would but then again, this was just a starter conversation and she didn't want to be pushy. ‘We'll factor in Mrs Sampson and Rob's days off and then work out where we can take time out too. So Rob works six evenings a week and you cook on the seventh? Are you happy with that?'

‘Yes, I like cooking,' Dad said, ‘unless you'd like a turn in the kitchen.'

She shook her head. ‘I'll do breakfasts in the mornings and then help Mrs Sampson with the housekeeping.' She cringed at the idea of having to cook bacon and sausages but it was better than a full-on juicy steak, which was the most popular choice on the motel's dinner menu. ‘That way you can sleep in if you want and then have a free morning to do office work.' She paused when she realised Dad was grinning at her. ‘What's so funny?

‘You've got it all worked out. This forward thinking and organised side of you is one we don't see very often.'

She chose not to take offence, secretly pleased he was impressed. ‘Don't tell the others. It's a lot easier being the dummy of the family.'

‘You're not dumb, Charlotte.'

She blinked. ‘I know, Dad.' And then she almost told him about her desire to study, but she thought better of it at the last moment. She didn't want him feeling guilty for holding her back. ‘So what are you going to do when the motel sells? Given it much thought?'

He puffed out a breath and shrugged. ‘A little. I think I'd like to travel. Your mum and I often talked about places we'd like to see. I joked about travelling round Australia in a caravan but she said she'd only do it if we could afford five-star hotels. As much as she loved the motel life, she said, when she finally gave it up, she wanted to enjoy a little luxury.'

Charlie smiled, both at the joy in her dad's voice as he spoke about his wife and at her own memories. They'd all been uncertain whether talking about Mum helped him or whether each time they tried to bring her into the conversation it broke his heart a fraction more, but since Aunt Mags's unexpected visit they were finding talking about her much easier. ‘That sounds just like Mum.'

‘Maybe I'll do the caravan thing to spite her for leaving me so early,' he joked. ‘Take her ashes with me or something.' Currently they were sitting in an urn, pride of place on the mantelpiece in the house.

Charlie almost choked on her mouthful of soda water. ‘Dad!'

‘Hey, if I didn't laugh, I'd cry.'

‘You're allowed to do both,' she said, reaching out and touching his hand. ‘And we need to talk about Mum, hold onto her memories so she'll live through us.'

‘I know.' He squeezed her hand. ‘But still, I might put the caravan thing on hold for a bit and go visit my girls instead. I've always fancied going to the States and I'm itching to hear Abigail play in the orchestra.'