Emergency Response (22 page)

“But what about at Bailey’s wedding? You told me that day I’d never get married because I’d been a bridesmaid too many times.”

He looked at his hands lying on top of the covers and then back at her, his eyes moist. “I’m so sorry, Mackenzie. After I’d said those words, I realized my joke had fallen flat. Please understand, I was only teasing you. I wished I could have taken the words straight back, but by the time I went to find you and apologize, you’d already gone. I’ve never regretted anything so much in all my life.”

“You could have called me.” She sounded like a whining child, on the verge of tears herself. Years of past hurts bubbled to the surface, desperate to come out.

“I should have, I know, but my pride stopped me.”

“And you never came to visit me in Sydney. Not even once. You never even came to my graduation.”

“I know. I should have. And I’m sorry.” Tears flooded his eyes and he looked away. “Will you forgive me please, Mackenzie?” For the first time since the stroke there was a piercing vibrancy in his eyes and his speech was no longer slurred.

Mackenzie’s mind stilled as the words she’d longed to hear for so many years filtered through her suit of armor and found their mark in the center of her broken heart.

“Yes, I forgive you, Dad. If only you’ll forgive me for not being the daughter I should have been.”

He nodded and smiled, one side of his face refusing to pull upward. “Of course you’re forgiven.”

When he leaned forward and drew her into his arms, she collapsed on the single bed beside him. She sank crookedly, one hip on the mattress with her leg tucked beneath her, the other foot still on the floor. Leaning into his open arms, she laid her head on his chest and felt the steady beating of his heart against her cheek.

“I love you, Mackenzie.”

“I love you too, Dad.”

Shortly after midnight, not long after Mackenzie said good night, Bill Jones passed away. The nurses found him slumped in his bed, hours later, with a peaceful smile on his face.

Now, Mackenzie sat alone in Cameron’s kitchen, filled with shock, waiting for the others to gather. She wiped away a stray tear. Death shouldn’t happen on sunny days. She stared out the window at the brilliant blue cloudless skies. It was going to be a gorgeous day. The weather reminded her of Iron Ridge and she realized it was the first time she’d missed the place.

Another sad memory flooded back to her. The day of their mum’s funeral. The rain had poured down all morning and by the time the mourners stood at the gravesite, huddled beneath black umbrellas, thick brown mud covered their shoes. Mackenzie had overheard someone remark it was terrible weather for a funeral and she remembered thinking,
No, this is perfect weather for a funeral.

Mackenzie ran her tongue over her lips. Should she tell her sisters what she’d discovered? Maybe it would be better to leave things exactly as they were. She’d lived over half her life thinking she wasn’t loved by her father. Now they’d reconciled, literally on his deathbed, should she tell them? Would they even believe her? And if she told them she wasn’t even his blood daughter, what good would that revelation bring? It would most likely divide them even further.

The front door opened and closed and suddenly the other girls surrounded her. There were hugs and tears as everyone spoke at once, comforting one another. No one had expected him to die.

Once everyone had cups of tea and they were settled in the lounge, Mackenzie leaned forward, searching their faces, begging them to understand what she was about to say. She took a deep breath. It was now or never.

“I’m not your real sister.”

Shocked looks intersected and then returned to her.

She hurried on. “Well technically I’m your
half
sister. Mum was already pregnant when she arrived in Willandara. Dad knew, but they never told anyone. By the time Mum told him she was pregnant, he’d already asked her to marry him.”

There was a cacophony of noise as each of her sisters spoke at once. Mackenzie held up her hand, and then waited until someone broached the first question.

Bailey spoke first. “Is that why you ran away from home after Mum died?”

Mackenzie shook her head. “No. I only found out two days ago.”

“You only
just
found out?” Taylor’s voice was full of shock, voicing what the others were thinking, judging by the matching looks on their faces.

Mackenzie nodded.

“I guess that’s why you look so different from us,” Taylor said. There was a murmuring of agreement.

“How did you find out?” Jordan asked. “And if you only just found out, why did you leave straight after Mum died?”

Mackenzie didn’t want to answer that question yet. Talking about the day she ran away brought up too many painful memories.

“When I was going through Dad’s things back at the house I found a folder full of letters in Mum’s handwriting. She wrote him a letter every year on their wedding anniversary but in her first letter to him, on the night before their wedding, she thanked him for loving her and the baby – me. She asked him to one day tell me the truth when the time was right.”

Five pairs of stunned eyes stared at her.

“Did Dad know you found out?” Cameron asked.

Mackenzie nodded. “We talked last night.”

Taylor blanched. “The shock could have killed him!”

Mackenzie’s mouth opened but no words came out.

Cameron jumped in. “That’s not fair, Tay, you know that.”

“He—we—I …” Mackenzie stammered.

“I’m sorry, Mack, that came out completely wrong.” Taylor got up out of her seat to hug Mackenzie. “I’m sorry.”

“I told him I was sorry for running away after Mum died and he told me he loved me,” Mackenzie said, tears pricking at her eyelids.

“Of course he loved you. After you left it broke his heart.” Riley shook her head. “I remember, he cried for days.”

“I always thought his heart was broken because of Mum,” Mackenzie said.

“Well of course it was, but you running away at the same time didn’t help. He had to raise us alone,” Cameron said. “We all missed Mum and we all missed you.”

“I’m so sorry.” Mackenzie looked at her feet. How could she ever make up for all the lost years? She only hoped in time they would forgive her as her father had.

“We’re the ones who should be sorry,” Riley said. “We should have made more of an effort over the years. I guess we’ve all made mistakes.”

Tears formed in earnest and cascaded uncontrollably down Mackenzie’s cheeks. The truth was, she wished she had known her father. Wished she had stayed after her mum and Reuben had died. Wished she had been part of her sisters’ lives. Instead, she’d missed so much because of her stupid bitterness.

“I’m so sorry,” she sniffed.

Cameron pulled Mackenzie into a hug. Mackenzie heard movement as each of her sisters got up from their seats and came to her.

Bailey crouched beside Mackenzie’s chair and laid her head on Mackenzie’s lap. “You’ll always be our sister, Mack, and I for one am so glad you’re finally home.”

She had waited years to hear those words.

*

Five days later, Mackenzie, her sisters and their families sat in the stuffy Willandara Anglican church. Between them, they took up the first four pews on either side of the narrow aisle. Their father’s body lay in the dark mahogany coffin in front of them, draped with fresh flowers. After the service he was to be buried alongside their mum and Reuben in the local cemetery in Willandara.

Mackenzie didn’t need to turn around to tell the small chapel was filling fast. Mackenzie heard Marlene Robbins’ voice the moment she arrived and cringed. Thankfully an usher intervened before she walked to the front of the church looking for an available seat closest to the family. Mackenzie breathed a sigh of relief.

Mackenzie sat quietly in the front row, staring at the stained glass windows behind the pulpit as the sound of hushed voices and soft music wrapped around her like a warm blanket. She tried not to cry, yet she a deep sense of loss filled her. She had missed so much – the chance to be a happy family and the chance to know how much her father loved her.

The sun streamed through the glass, painting everyone in rainbow colors. Cameron sat on Mackenzie’s right and Riley on her left. Mackenzie inhaled deeply, catching the heavy fragrance of roses deep in the back of her throat. Which of her sisters had organized the magnificent floral arrangement? She’d never even given a thought to those sorts of details. Cameron had taken over the funeral preparations herself, meeting with the minister and funeral director to plan the entire service.

Finally, men like crows in black suits, moved through the chapel. With a small nod from the main usher, the minister began.

“Good afternoon everyone. I welcome you on behalf of Mackenzie, Cameron, Riley, Jordan, Taylor and Bailey.” He looked at Cameron and smiled at her. “I hope I got you all in the right order.”

Cameron nodded and smiled in return and there was a slight titter from the crowd as people shuffled in their seats and relaxed.

“As I was saying, on behalf of the girls and their families, I welcome you all today and thank you for your attendance – especially those of you who have traveled a long distance to share in this day and offer your love and support to the family.”

“Who’s that?” Mackenzie whispered to Riley.

“The new minister. John.”

“What happened to the old one?”

Mackenzie had a vague recollection of an ancient man in robes with gray hair, bushy eyebrows and a terrible problem with body odor. The man in front of her was lucky to be in his mid-forties and in his smart suit, he looked normal – nothing like the old minister.

Riley whispered back, “No idea. This guy has been around for a couple of years I think. Dad started going to church because he liked him.”

The idea of her father going to church surprised Mackenzie. As she’d told Marlene, they were never a religious family. A thought hit her. This must be the man looking after their father’s dog. Mackenzie made a mental note to ask him after the service.

Mackenzie saw Cameron nodding in agreement to something the minister had just said and she refocused her attention on the proceedings. There was a small commotion at the back of the church and a banging of a door as it was caught in the wind, but Mackenzie didn’t turn around. There was shuffling as people moved down the pews to make room for the latecomer.

“Today we gather together to pay tribute to, and give thanks for, the life of William Robert Jones.”

Mackenzie wriggled in her seat, trying to get comfortable. She regretted the tight black dress she was wearing, wishing she’d opted for pants or something more comfortable.

“We are here today to reflect, remember, and most importantly to honor and to celebrate his life,” the minister continued. “There is no doubt Bill’s life and sudden death has affected the lives of so many people, none more so than his six daughters and their families sitting here today.”

There was a loud sniff. Mackenzie glanced sideways and saw Bailey dab at her eyes with a tissue.

“Today is an occasion to celebrate a life lived – the life of a man called William, Bill, Jonesie, or Dad, Grandpa or perhaps even Mr. Jones – depending on your relationship with him. However you knew Bill, today we sit shoulder to shoulder in this church confident in the knowledge he enjoyed a full life – and it is that life we now take the time to celebrate, acknowledge and honor. Throughout our service this afternoon we will remember Bill in words, in pictures, in thoughts and in memories; noting the many facets of his life as a son, a husband, a father, a family member, a work colleague, a neighbor and a friend.”

Mackenzie tuned in and out, her emotions rubbed raw.

“Are you okay?” Riley whispered as she took Mackenzie’s hand in her own and squeezed it tight.

For the first time in her memory Mackenzie was glad for the connection with her sister. “Yeah, I’m okay,” she said, returning the squeeze.

“It would be remiss of us not to acknowledge it has not been an easy season for the family, with Bill’s sudden stroke three weeks ago. Of course everyone believed he would recover, but sadly he passed away unexpectedly last Saturday.”

There was more sniffing, but Mackenzie didn’t glance around to see who it was. Her own eyes remained surprisingly dry.

“You will notice there are a number of Bill’s possessions here,” the minister said, indicating the items placed carefully on top of the coffin. “Each of these represents a different aspect of Bill’s life.”

An old ruler, chalk and duster sat alongside a black gown. Her father had worn it every Monday morning at assembly, a garment from a bygone era, but he’d worn it anyway, convinced it was necessary even in a primary school of less than a hundred kids. There was a cricket bat and ball – cricket was her father’s favorite sport – and a number of other smaller items placed there by Mackenzie’s nieces and nephews.

“Today I encourage you as you remember and celebrate Bill’s life to smile, to laugh and to support one another with words and actions in your time of grief.”

This time it was Cameron who grabbed Mackenzie’s other hand and squeezed tightly. Mackenzie shuffled in her seat and leaned forward, closing her eyes. Just the eulogy and DVD presentation to go and it would all be over. She was so grateful Cameron offered to deliver the final words – there was no way she could do it.

Finally the service was finished with three simple words – “let us pray” – and Mackenzie breathed a sigh of relief. The pallbearers carried the coffin down the narrow aisle and placed it in the back of the car, ready for the drive through town to her father’s final resting place.

As Mackenzie headed toward her own car to follow the hearse to the cemetery, a voice called her name softly. She stopped in her tracks. It couldn’t be! She spun around to see Nathan standing there. In his shiny black shoes, dark suit, white shirt and striped tie, he looked incredible. Most of the locals had polished their RM boots for the occasion, paired with their best pants and buttoned-up checked shirts open at the neck. He looked very out of place among the other mourners but she didn’t care. It was so good to see him.

“Nathan!” She half squealed, half shouted as she ran toward him without a moment’s hesitation.

Strong arms caught her, enveloping her and holding her tight. The tears she had forced down during the service erupted like a shaken bottle of champagne.

After a while she sniffed, aware she was leaving damp trails down the lapel of his jacket. “You came,” she said.

“Of course I came.” Nathan’s voice was husky. Still holding her by the arms, he moved back and searched her face. “I wish you’d told me, Kenz. I would have come sooner. I only found out this morning he’d passed away.”

She had never seen his brown eyes so dark and full of compassion. She inhaled the familiar scent of his aftershave before reaching out and touching his face, feeling the smoothness of the skin. She was so grateful he’d made the effort to be there to support her family.

“It’s been such a crazy time. I’m sorry, I just haven’t …”

He put his fingers to her lips. “It’s all right, Kenzie. I know it’s been a tough couple of weeks.”

“It was so sudden in the end.”

“Did you get to talk to him?”

She nodded, sniffing again. “Yes.”

“I’m glad. I look forward to hearing all about it.”

“Oh Nath, I have so much to tell you.”

“I’ve got time.”

“Today? After the burial? We’re having an afternoon tea back at the house.”

“Today. Tomorrow. We have plenty of time to talk. I’m not going anywhere, Mackenzie.” His voice was husky and deep. “I let you walk out of my life once, and I’m not going to let it happen again. I should never have listened to you when you said you didn’t want a long-distance relationship. Birrangulla is only a few hours away from Dubbo. I should have come sooner. We can make this work. Trust me.”