Miracle In March (25 page)

‘Although I didn't know her as long as all of you, I'll remember her positivity,' said André. ‘She didn't seem to let the little things get her down.'

Everyone nodded, and Lizzie patted André's hand as it rested on her shoulder.

‘And I'll,' Lizzie said, her voice shaky and bottom lip trembling. ‘I'll never forget her…her…' She sniffed, and André leaned down and kissed her cheek. ‘Her hugs.' She sobbed, then took a breath and added, ‘They were like magic. One hug and the world was alright again, problems disappeared. I can't believe I'll never,' she sobbed again, hanging her head, ‘that I'll never get to have one again.'

André crouched down beside his wife and wrapped his arms tight around her, rubbing her arm and whispering reassurances into her ear. James stepped to his sister and ran his hand across the back of her head, the silkiness of her hair cooling his hand. Jackson looked at Lizzie, then collected pebbles and put them in a pile near his auntie's feet.

‘There are so many great things to remember about Nonna,' said James, ‘but I've got to say it: she knew how to feed a hungry herd of people.' He smiled. ‘There was nothing quite like her cooking. And just like the hugs,' he patted Lizzie's shoulder, ‘I'm sad that I'll never get to taste her food again.' He clamped his lips together. ‘But I'll always have the memories. And Mum, your food is pretty fantastic too.' He glanced towards his mum, who smiled a thank you. ‘One more thing,' James said. ‘She was also a perfect parental role model. She raised a caring, dedicated father,' he glanced at his dad, ‘who married a caring, dedicated mother. And each of you have helped me become the father I am myself, and the father I hope to be.' He pressed his fingers to his lips, kissed them, then held up his hand to the sky. ‘
Grazie
, Nonna Bella.'

‘
Grazie,
Nonna Bella.' Everyone did the same. Five kisses made their way into the air, as though preparing it for what was to come.

James' father took the lid off the urn and handed it to Marie. With his hand over the opening, he lifted the urn over the railing and took a deep breath. Then, in time with his slow exhalation, Nonna Bella's ashes slowly released in a soft haze.

The delicate dust wafted through the air, riding on the wind that once caressed her face as she stood in this very spot, and once floated into her lungs as she breathed with life. A lightness enveloped James, like he too was floating. He watched the breeze carry his grandmother's spirit through the sky. She wasn't falling, she was soaring, circling around, up, and down, finally free, and forever a part of this magical place she loved.

Jackson gripped the bars of the safety fence, his eyes wide, Owly behind him at his feet. James touched a hand to the boy's head as he peered through the fence and down into the ocean. James returned his focus to the sky, the ocean, the vast beauty of the view, breathing in deeply and imprinting the moment in his mind, and his heart.

‘Bell-la.'

James turned to the soft voice that came from his left. He froze, his eyes glued to Jackson.

‘Bell-la.'

There was no mistaking it. His four-and-a-half-year-old, non-verbal, autistic son had spoken. And not just any word, the name of the grandmother whose ashes floated into the sunset this very moment.

James' mother gasped, and Lizzie stopped crying.

Everything went still.

‘Jackson?' James whispered, a new, fresh, surreal sensation growing inside him, his heart thumping, his head spinning. ‘Bella,' he echoed. ‘Bye, bye, Bella.'

‘Bell-la.'

James' heart expanded with joy, and a smile mirroring the euphoria grew on his face. He dropped to his knees beside his son and flung his arms around the boy. Jackson stood there, unmoving, peering out into the horizon. ‘You said Bella! You said her name! My beautiful, amazing, special boy.' Tears welled instantly, spilling out onto his cheeks and streaming onto Jackson's blue top. ‘Oh, my boy. My boy,' he spoke as he cried, one hand gripping his son's back and the other caressing his mop of wavy hair in a lovingly fierce tangle. His chest throbbed and he stayed on his knees, embracing his son like he had just come to life. James didn't know if Jackson would ever speak like that again, but it didn't matter. He didn't care if he never said another word again for the rest of his life. He would never forget the pure, utter beauty of what he'd just heard. And now, he knew without a doubt that his son, his unique gift of a son, was there in that body; a living, breathing reminder that not everything needed to be heard or seen to be present. Jackson probably knew more than he let on, and was perhaps tuned into things others didn't even notice, and, for some unknown reason, had chosen this moment to show his father that everything would be okay.

As James held on tight to his son, Jackson remained still, letting his father enjoy this moment. A hand touched his back, and without looking he knew it was his own father. Three generations of men, united together in a moment of purity and simplicity beyond anything he'd experienced. And in that moment, as every emotion, every fear, every bit of grief that he'd bottled up poured out, he found himself smiling. It was only a simple word, a name, from the mouth of a child. But its significance was profound. And there was only one word to describe it: a miracle.

* * *

As the light dimmed, James wiped at his eyes with a tissue his mother had handed him. He picked up Owly and gave it to Jackson, who until then had continued to be hypnotised by the view. Everyone's eyes were red, everyone's except Jackson's. ‘C'mon, Jax, time to go have some special dinner.' He patted his back. James turned around to find his mother with arms outstretched, and he let her scoop him up into a motherly hug. Martin couldn't take his eyes off Jackson, and although he'd just farewelled his mother, his face appeared brighter than before.

Lizzie blew her nose and shoved the tissue into the pocket of her cardigan, then nodded to André that it was time to help her get back to the car. He hooked his arm under hers and she rose, then Lizzie gasped as water gushed between her legs. ‘Oh no. Oh no, André,' her voice shook, then her head dropped backwards and she wilted onto the chair.

‘Lizzie?' André had caught her before she fell, and James rushed to his sister's side. ‘Lizzie?' He patted her cheeks, but her mouth hung open and her eyes had rolled back.

‘What's happening? Lizzie, sweetheart!' Marie dropped to her knees in front of her daughter, her hands on Lizzie's thighs. ‘She's unconscious! Call an ambulance, quick!'

Adrenaline surged through James' blood and he punched in an emergency call on his phone.

His dad put down the urn and slid an arm under Lizzie's legs. ‘Let's get her to the car.' André lifted his wife under the shoulders, Martin her legs, and Marie helping support her back.

‘Here, Mum, you give the details, I've got her.' James handed the phone to his mum as the operator answered, then helped carry his sister to the backseat of the car where they laid her down. Martin took off his jacket and folded it under her head.

‘Lizzie, wake up!' André touched and kissed her face repeatedly.

James put two fingers against her neck. He held his breath till he felt the light throbbing, weak but definite. He'd seen people on TV shows rub the chest on top of the sternum, so he made a fist and rubbed at it with his knuckles. ‘C'mon, Lizzie, c'mon.'

Her eyes flickered and opened.

‘Oh, thank God, Lizzie?' he asked.

She opened her mouth but no words came out. Her eyes appeared drowsy but aware. André kept kissing and fussing over her.

‘Are you in any pain, sweetheart? They want to know.' Marie asked, one ear against the phone.

‘Head,' Lizzie managed. ‘Head hurts. And everything's blurry, can't focus.'

‘She has a sore head and blurred vision,' Marie said. ‘No, she didn't bump it, her waters just broke and she fainted.'…‘Yes, high blood pressure. The doctor had been talking to her about pre-eclampsia.' James listened to the one-sided conversation. ‘André, make sure she's only semi-reclined. Is there something else to raise her body up a bit?'

Martin grabbed a towel from the boot and handed it to André. André manoeuvred onto the backseat into a kneeling position, placed the folded towel on his lap, then adjusted Lizzie to lie back onto him.

‘Don't worry, sweetheart, ambulance isn't too far away,' Marie said, reassuring not only Lizzie but everyone else.

‘André,' Lizzie whispered, her chin trembling. ‘It's too early, it's too soon.' She tried to sob but didn't appear to have the energy.

‘It's okay, the doctors will know what to do. You just take it easy,
ma cherie
.'

She grasped his hand. ‘I don't feel good.' Her hand shook, as did her voice. James took off her shoes and tried to make her more comfortable. Martin found another towel and James put it between her legs just in case. He'd seen Jackson's birth and knew how much blood was involved.

‘Honey,' Lizzie spoke again, looking directly into her husband's eyes. ‘Make sure they save the baby. If you have to choose…' she sucked in a sharp breath, ‘please — the baby.'

André's face paled and James' stomach churned. ‘No, no,
ma cherie
, you're going to be okay, okay?'

‘Promise me,' she urged. ‘We tried for
so
long to have this baby. Promise me, baby first.' The eerie tone of his sister's voice pinched his chest.

No. No, Lizzie.

Lizzie didn't look away from her husband. She gripped his hand. André caressed her face and nodded as a tear dropped off his cheek. ‘I promise.'

With his words, Lizzie's eyes rolled backwards again and André sobbed into her hair and pleaded for her to wake up.

Emma parked her car behind the cottage and locked the door with a beep. As soon as she was inside she planned to text James, both to offer her condolences on his grandmother and say that she hoped all went okay, and also to ask if they could talk before he left in the morning. But when she made her way around the side of the cottage towards the front door, she glanced up to the right. She'd picked up some DVD's for her dad before arriving at Jen's party and could probably drop them off now. She walked along the path as it gradually inclined, and glanced out at the beautiful warm pink of the sky. Maybe she should go up to the lookout, snap a photo, then use it as inspiration for a drawing.

She changed direction and headed up the hill towards Tarrin. As she neared, she stopped for a moment.
Oh, of course, James and his family must be spreading the ashes.
She thought they'd be finished by now as Jackson would surely need dinner soon, but she could see his mother and father, and someone's car, and…James was kneeling on the ground, leaning into a car. Jackson was beside Marie as she held onto his hand, but where were Lizzie and André?

When she came closer and saw the looks of despair on James' parents' faces, she knew something was wrong. They weren't just emotional from the events of the day, something had happened.

A siren blared in the distance and grew louder, and Emma turned as an ambulance bumped along the gravel road into the holiday park and headed towards her.

Oh no.

She ran up the hill towards James and arrived just before the ambulance. ‘What's happened?'

James' face was red and lined with worry. ‘Lizzie's water broke and she keeps passing out.'

‘Oh God, is there anything I can do?'

He shook his head, then moved out of the way when an ambulance officer approached and took his place, the other one approaching the other side of the car where André was. Marie hung up the phone and filled them in on the situation. It didn't sound good. Emma's heart pounded and ached.

As the ambos worked quickly, Emma looked at Jackson, seemingly oblivious to the trauma unfolding. He seemed quite placid and zoned out, one hand clutching Owly and the other in his grandma's hand.

‘Love, we should head down to our car so we can follow the ambulance to the hospital,' said Martin to Marie, clutching a wooden urn.

‘I'll drive André in his car,' said James. ‘Oh, dammit, I can't.' He ran his hand through his hair. ‘Jackson.'

‘Just bring him, he can come with us and we'll grab his booster seat when we get to the car park,' Martin said.

James shook his head. ‘He's okay now but it'll be a nightmare at the hospital, he won't cope there.'

‘Do you want me to come and I'll wait in the car with Jackson?' suggested Emma.

James looked her way. ‘But we could be a while. And he needs dinner, he'll get tired too, and then he'll…oh God, this can't be happening.' He looked at his son, at Lizzie, and down towards the cabins.

‘Then I'll look after him. Here.' Emma touched his arm. ‘He'll be okay, don't you worry.'

‘Emma, you are a lifesaver,' said Marie. ‘C'mon, Martin, let's go so we can get there as soon as possible.' She let go of Jackson's hand and gave him a gentle nudge in Emma's direction, ‘There you go, Emma will take care of you, darling.'

‘Hey there, Jackson.' Emma crouched to his level. ‘Hello Owly. Are you going to have some dinner too?' She patted the toy's head and smiled, though her expression was totally forced.

‘Ooo,' Jackson cooed.

‘But his dinner, he needs…' James said.

‘No gluten, no dairy, I remember.'

‘And he'll need a bath or he won't calm down before bed,' James said, as the ambulance officers loaded Lizzie into the vehicle and Martin and Marie scurried down the hill. ‘Oh, you'll need keys.' He patted his pockets.

‘It's okay, I have keys to all the cabins,' Emma replied. ‘You keep yours so you can get back inside in case it's late.'