Miracle In March (24 page)

She could have a good life without a child in it. She knew she could certainly adopt, foster even, but right now, for the first time, she felt that if even if it never happened, she'd be okay. Her life would still be fulfilling. A smile eased onto her lips and she took another deep breath, acknowledging the moment of realisation.

‘Sneaking out for a smoke?'

Emma turned to see Jen standing next to her. She laughed. ‘As if.'

‘Look, I have a temporary engagement ring.' Jen held up her left hand.

‘Classy. And versatile.' Emma smiled and nodded at the line drawn on with a pen, complete with a large diamond shape.

‘I know, right? I can add an extra diamond whenever I want, or change the colour. It's really quite practical.' She giggled. ‘Anyway, I want to hear about what's going on with you. Quick, while Sean is telling everyone the list of daggy songs he's going to choose for our wedding dance floor party.'

‘Can't wait for the big day, when do you think it will be?'

‘Early next year, I think.'

‘Well, even if I'm overseas before that, I'll make a trip back just for you. I'm not missing your special day.'

‘Good, because you're my bridesmaid.' Jen grinned.

‘I am?'

‘Whether you like it or not.' She draped her arm around Emma.

‘Then it's a date.' They shook hands. ‘Just don't choose a frilly, puffy-sleeved, lemon-coloured dress for me or anything.'

‘I wouldn't dream of it,' Jen said. ‘I'll make it peach-coloured instead.' She winked. ‘Now, hang on. So you
have
decided to continue with your travel plans?' she asked.

‘Yep. And Mum and Dad know now, about what I was planning. But I'll still wait till things are sorted with the cabins.'

‘I'm glad. You need this. Have you told James?'

Emma nodded, and glanced at the wind chimes that jingled in the breeze as they hung from the patio roof, as though signalling a change in the direction of their conversation.

‘And?'

‘It's okay, we can talk when your birthday is over. You should be talking to your guests.' Emma turned to the patio door but Jen stopped her.

‘
You
are my guest, and right now I want to talk to you. Besides, doesn't James leave tomorrow?'

Emma nodded.

‘Then this is a conversational emergency! Spill it all. Now.' She sat at an outdoor table setting for two and Emma took the other seat.

Emma sighed. ‘Okay, where to start… Um, things were going well until last night,' she said. ‘I've probably stuffed things up for good.'

‘Oh no, what happened?' Jen leaned forward on the table.

‘I told him I'm going overseas and that I don't know how long I'll be or what I'll do when I return, so in other words: I can't commit to anything and haven't made up my mind.' Emma lowered her head.

‘And had
he
made up his mind?'

Emma nodded tentatively. ‘He thinks it's worth another shot.'

Jen sighed. ‘Oh dear. It took you so long to come to terms with leaving him and now he's back, willing and able to be in your life and you're virtually pushing him away?'

‘Hey, I'm not pushing him, just telling him what my plans are. Anyway, he thinks I'm scared of the responsibility of Jackson.'

‘Are you?'

Emma twisted her lips to the side. ‘I started to wonder if I was on some deep level, that maybe, because of the hysterectomy, I wasn't supposed to be a mother. Part of me still feels like that, but when I think about Jackson, I'm not scared. I'm so fond of him, and I find myself thinking of ways I can help. The idea of him being in my life too doesn't trigger the apprehension I thought it might.'

Jen rested her elbows on the table and clasped her hands together. ‘First of all, the cancer, the hysterectomy, it happened because it happened. It doesn't mean anything; it's not some cosmic sign that you're not cut out to be a mum, that's a load of absolute crap. Forget that now, you hear me?'

Emma shrugged.

‘Secondly, despite the challenges of having Jackson in your life, I actually think you'd be in your element. James is just trying to protect himself by suggesting you're scared. He wants to give you a reason to back out now instead of once you're
in
the relationship. He doesn't want to be abandoned again.'

‘Maybe I'm worried I
will
abandon him again. Either by choice or…the alternative.' Emma swallowed a lump in her throat.

‘Hey, don't even think about that. You're well, and you're staying well, don't give any space in your mind for anything other than that.' Jen grasped Emma's hand and squeezed it.

‘I know. I'm trying. And I'm feeling positive.' She smiled.

‘Good girl. Anyway, so what led to having this talk, did he bring up the subject?'

Emma scratched her head and dropped her gaze from Jen's. ‘Um, it sort of started with a kiss.'

‘You've kissed again?'

Emma bit a tiny smile forming on her lips. ‘Big time.'

‘Hang on, shouldn't that have led to something else instead of what you just described?'

Emma's mind rewound back to the scene on the beach, and instead of stopping the kiss, she saw herself walking hand in hand with James back to her cottage. ‘Exactly, which is why I stopped it.'

‘Oh, Em.' Jen shook her head. ‘Why the hesitation and indecision? Are you worried you will meet someone overseas and prefer them over James, and therefore have to let him down again?'

Emma thought about the possibility. A romance in France, an affair in Tuscany…it all sounded so movie-like, wonderful, and amazing, but not…real.

Emma breathed deeply. ‘The thing is, I don't think I want to meet anyone else.'

‘Emma. Did you tell him that?' She raised her eyebrows.

‘No.' She breathed out with a whoosh. ‘I only just realised it.'

‘Oh Geez! Hun, you obviously still love him. You need to tell him.' Jen patted Emma's hand.

‘But still, what if I say that and then get back from travelling and I've changed and we no longer suit each other or something?'

‘What if, what if, what if…here's a what if: what if you come back and feel the same or even more in love with him and you've missed your chance? Ever think about that?'

Emma straightened up and adjusted her top as the strap dug into her shoulder.
That would be worse. Much worse.

‘Sometimes you've just got to make a decision and stick with it, trust it. Make it work.' Jen leaned closer. ‘What does your heart tell you? Right now?'

‘I think it —'

‘No, not I think, I
feel
.'

‘Okay, I
feel
like…that…' She buried her face in her hands as she leant her elbows on the mosaic table. ‘That I can't imagine living my life without him. That I love him more than I've loved anyone. That I just want all the fears to go away so I can dive right in and be with him, make it up to him, love him.' Emma's hands moved about as she spoke, as though her feelings were overflowing and her words weren't enough to express them.

Jen stood and leaned her hands on the table, as though gearing up for an interrogation. ‘Love like that doesn't come easily. If you're lucky enough to feel that and he feels the same, then oh my God — you need to get your arse back to Tarrin's bay and tell him right this instant.' She slammed her fist on the table. ‘Ow.' She rubbed her hand.

‘You okay?'

‘Of course I'm okay, but you won't be if you don't do as you're told.'

‘I can't go now; it's your party. And anyway, he's spreading his grandma's ashes, so it's not the right time.'

Jen held out her hand. ‘Then come inside, enjoy the party, and when it's all over, you will drive back and tell him that even though you're going overseas for a while, you're coming back to him, and you're one hundred percent committed to having a relationship with him. And Jackson. Got it?'

Emma took Jen's hand and stood. Was it really that simple? Could she make a promise like that when life seemed so uncertain right now? Emma looked into Jen's eyes, then down at the makeshift engagement ring on her finger — a promise, a sign of commitment. Jen and Sean didn't know what was around the corner either, no one really did, like James had said. But still, people made promises and made things work. They rode through life and navigated the speed bumps together. Was she prepared to finally turn that corner, say goodbye to the fears that had held her hostage in the past, and tell James she was ready and determined to start over with him, no matter what?

A warm, bubbly sensation rose up inside and solidified into crystal clear perfection.

There'd be no more dancing around the what ifs and the buts, it was time to grab the opportunity with both hands and tell him she was back for good, and that once she returned from her trip, she would never hide anything from him again, never run off, and never decide his future on his behalf.

Was she ready to do what her heart was screaming for her to do?

Yes. One hundred percent yes.

With each step up to the lookout, the sun sank lower, descending gradually behind the vast coastal landscape. Warm, earthy pink hues washed across the sky, as though it was blushing, knowing all eyes were witness to its beauty. James had one hand shading his eyes from the early evening glare of dusk, and the other holding Jackson's as his little feet walked three to his one, clutching Owly to his side.

His parents walked on ahead, his dad holding on tight to the wooden urn, his last chance to hold his beloved mother.

‘Do you need a hand?' James asked André as his brother-in-law got out of the car he'd parked as high up as was allowed, so that Lizzie didn't have to walk uphill.

‘Could you carry this?' André handed him a fold up chair, then helped his wife out of the car.

They all walked the few extra steps to the flat surface of the lookout that was cradled by a safety fence, and beside Tarrin, the earth man. James looked further up, towards the old lighthouse that perched higher on the headland. He liked to think that its light would be a reminder of Nonna Bella's light that she shone on the world, and he smiled, knowing that this was where she had accepted a marriage proposal.

James lowered his gaze and scanned the rough, rocky face of Tarrin, reminded of the weathered skin of his father as he'd sat at the pier fishing with him. How time flies. Life was ever changing, and yet people adapted as best they could.

Nonna Bella had lived a good ninety years. That was more than fifty years away for James if he lived that long. It was hard to imagine Jackson as a man in his fifties, but some day, he would be, and it was up to James now to ensure his son had the best upbringing he could offer. He hoped that there'd be some degree of independence in Jackson's future, for when he was no longer around for his son. A scary thought. Because, despite the adaptability and duration of human life, it was fleeting in the scheme of things.

James eyed the urn and a twinge of sadness rolled through him. He shouldn't be sad, his grandmother had lived a happy, long life, but he missed her. His life wasn't the same without her in it, and her loss was also a reminder of the cycle of life. Nothing lasted forever, except memories.

He unfolded the chair and Lizzie sat, her hands clasping her belly, her hair flapping in the breeze. She looked sad, like him, and the pallor of her skin was tainted with the grey shadow of exhaustion. André stood behind her with his hands on her shoulders.

‘Bella would have loved this,' Marie said, looking out at the view, the ever-present ocean, the headlands and rocky cliffs curving around the beaches. The burgeoning sunset gave everything a magical glow, and like life, it would pass by and give way to something new.

With Lizzie settled and Jackson happily cooing to Owly, James approached his father. By simply standing beside him, he was expressing his support. He knew if he touched him, his dad may not be able to get through it without breaking down. Even though Martin often kept his emotions to himself, James knew his dad was finding this day a struggle.

Martin cleared his throat. ‘I know we said everything at the funeral, but I'd like to say a few words to mark the occasion and say…say our final goodbyes.' He looked at the urn then out at the ocean, as though drawing strength from its beauty. ‘My mother was an amazing woman. She and Dad gave us a good life, a good legacy, a heritage to be proud of.' Scattered clouds moved slowly behind him as the colours in the sky shifted and merged. ‘It was here that her journey as a wife and mother began, and it is here that we now lay her to rest.' He rubbed the urn with his hand. ‘Though I can never remember my mother resting. I'm sure she'll continue to scurry about keeping busy, keeping everyone in line, and making sure everyone is okay.' He offered a crooked smile. ‘Mum,' he said, his voice softening, ‘thank you. Thank you for…' his voice cracked and he lowered his head, rubbing his temples with one hand. Marie placed an arm around his back, rubbing it, whispering, ‘It's okay, it's okay.'

‘Thank you for everything,' he continued, his voice thick with both grief and gratitude. ‘For my life, for our lives.' Martin glanced around at the small gathering. ‘We'll never forget you.'

James' heart lurched as he watched his dad wipe a tear from his eye, something he rarely did. And he realised that once, his father had been a little boy like Jackson too, a boy who needed love and support and guidance to navigate through life. Everyone needed someone, no one could do it alone.

‘Would you each like to say something you'll always remember about Bella before I…' He glanced at the urn.

‘Of course. I'll start,' said James' mother. ‘It sounds small, but I'll always remember the way she rubbed cream on her hands, as though it was an extremely important thing to do. She always carried that lavender hand cream around with her and used it often. She had lovely hands, much better than mine!' Marie chuckled, holding up a hand and rotating it. Martin took hold of it and kissed it.