The Lawson Boys: Alex (12 page)

Life right now
was good. Oh, she thought about the baby now and again, she even
had a little cherub statue out the back amongst the roses in
memory, but the reality was it had happened sixteen years ago. Her
unknown baby would always have a special place in her heart, and
she sometimes wondered what life would have been like if her body
hadn’t spontaneously aborted the baby, but again the reality was it
had happened, and she’d accepted it. Time had healed her wounds,
and this last part, the facing up to Alex, had closed the chapter
in her life peacefully.

Twisting the
cap back onto the nail polish bottle, Harly placed it onto the
coffee table and retrieved the hot mug of Milo, leaning back to
comfortably stretch her legs out to rest on the foot rest while she
sipped at the hot liquid.

Yes, she felt
at peace.

Alex, however…
She frowned. Okay, he possibly wasn’t going to get over it as fast
as her, but the reality was that he hadn’t known about the baby
until five months ago. He’d be mad, sure, and his acceptance had
been there when she’d told her story, she’d seen the
acknowledgement on his face, but there was still a tightness around
his eyes, a feeling of something not right.

When she’d
asked him, his expression had changed, going from puzzlement to
shock before he’d yanked down that inscrutable mask he wore so
well, and then he’d left her like a bat out of hell.

So there was
something else going on, but whether it was to do with the baby or
more, she wasn’t certain. It was linked, that much she was figuring
out, but what, how, and why?

Taking a sip of
Milo, she started unseeingly at the TV screen, not even noticing
the chase scene playing out in the bright glow.

Maybe Paul
would know? Did she have a right to ask him? What if whatever was
wrong, he didn’t know and it brought up questioning that Alex
wouldn’t like and might even make him leave early? She certainly
didn’t want to cause trouble between two friends.

And really, was
it any of her business? And why should she care?

Looking down at
old Pepper, who had climbed into her lap and curled up, she
murmured, “See, this is why I like my quiet, uncomplicated life.
It’s so much more appealing.”

The next day
dawned with clouds in the sky and the promise of rain. Dressing
warmly, Harly took Buffy for a walk down the road, waving at the
few neighbours passing in their cars. Returning to the house, she
swept and mopped the floors, cleaned the bathroom and toilet, and
dusted. Once the house was clean, she retreated to the big back
room.

The sewing room
had five sewing dummies in it of different plus-sizes, bolts of
material, boxes of cottons and buttons, cupboards and drawers and
boxes with lace and beading and braids and anything else she found
interesting or needed, clothes patterns, several tables and pretty
much everything a dedicated clothes maker used.

After switching
the main sewing machine on, she circled the sewing dummy, making a
few minor adjustments to the sewing pins holding the tiny print
flower material on it. The colour was white, the flowers gay little
prints of blue, pink, bright yellow and red. The dress size was a
twenty six. Neither the dress pattern nor the dainty print was one
normally found in plus-sized clothes in shops. Many of those were
dark with glaring prints, and the fashions were similar. Nothing
really pretty that was affordable for the average plus-sized girl,
be she a working girl, a mother, or any other class on an average
wage.

Stepping back,
Harly smiled. This dress was one that could be found on the racks
of what was considered a ‘normal sized woman’, only in a much
larger size.

The wonders of
being able to sew and make patterns. She rarely bought her own
clothes anymore, for those dresses she found that she liked were
very expensive. It had been her own flair for sewing beautiful
clothes in pretty prints and patterns that had slowly but surely
gained her a following, and now she earned money part-time making
clothes for other fuller figured women and girls.

There were no
limits now. Women she’d never met sent her their measurements and
pictures, with ideas of what they liked to wear, and through email
communication she’d made many friends and sewn many clothes.

After switching
on a CD of assorted music, both rock and romantic, she carefully
removed the pinned material from the dummy, sat down at the sewing
machine and started the careful task of sewing the material
together.

Lost in the
love of sewing pretty articles, the music soft in the background,
the time passed quickly in the hum of the sewing machine, the click
of her scissors, and the rustle of material and paper. By the time
hunger pangs finally broke her concentration, she looked up to see
that it was raining outside. For several minutes she enjoyed the
view through the window. Outside the trees were fresh but wet, and
the plants nodded under the light but persistent droplets of rain.
Thunder roiled in the distance.

Turning away
from the view, she spotted Sunny, her female ginger cat, the
youngest of the animals at two years old, playing under the far
table with a length of braiding. Laughing, Harly went down on her
knees and pulled the braiding while Sunny pounced and rolled,
swiping at both her and the braiding.

Buffy looked up
from where she lay on the carpet near the door, but after sleepily
blinking, she laid her head back down and closed her eyes.

Switching off
the sewing machine and CD player, Harly went through into the
kitchen and turned on the light. The phone rang just as she entered
and she picked it up as she crossed to the ‘fridge.

Opening the
‘fridge door, she surveyed the contents while murmuring,
“Hello?”

“Harly?” Becky
queried.

“Would it be
anyone else at my number?” Smiling, Harly took a chunk of cheese
from the chiller.

“You never
know,” Becky replied. “Are you all right?”

“Of course.
Why?” Laying the cheese on the kitchen bench, Harly opened the
bread box and took out the packet, drawing out two slices before
closing the bag and returning the loaf to the bread box.

“Just
wondering, you being out there by yourself and all.”

“And all?
Define ‘all’.” Slicing the cheese, Harly laid it on both slices of
bread.

“Well, you’re
alone.”

“No I’m not. I
have my fur-babies.” She lit the grill.

“I mean, you’re
all alone when it comes to human company.”

“Just the way I
like it.”

“Don’t be like
that.”

Placing the two
cheese-covered slices of bread on the grill plate, Harly closed the
door and picked up the kettle. “I can be like this whenever I want,
and now is one of those times.”

“Huh, let me
guess. You’re holed up sewing clothes.”

“I’m enjoying
it, I’m not ‘holed up’.”

“Want to come
over for lunch?”

“Thanks, but
no.” Harly looked out the window. “It’s pouring with rain out
there.”

“What, you’re
worried that you’ll melt while running to your car? Toughen up,
girl!”

Laughing, Harly
switched on the kettle and retrieved her mug from the draining
board. “On the contrary, I love my solitude. I’ve got music going,
my sewing machine running hot, Sunny demolishing my braiding, and
all is right with the world.”

“So I’m
guessing that’s a ‘no’ to lunch?”

“Yes.”

“Bummer.” Becky
sighed.

“But I do thank
you for the invitation. It’s a lovely thought.”

“But not lovely
enough to entice you out of your cave.”

“I love my
cave. It’s all mine. It’s cosy. It’s solitude.” Harly smirked, even
though she knew her friend couldn’t see it. “Oops, did I say
‘solitude’ out loud?”

“Yes you did,
you cow. You’re such a snob.” Becky tried to feign hurt feelings
over the phone, but the thread of amusement in her tone kept coming
through.

“So, am I right
in thinking that you’re bored?” Harly flipped a tea bag into the
mug and got out a teaspoon.

“Paul’s home.
How could I be bored?”

“Ah, desperate
then?”

“Hardly. He and
Alex are playing a mean hand of poker at the kitchen table. They’ve
eaten all my chocolate cake and commandeered the packet of Tim
Tams.”

“Are you
whining, Becky?” Harly could just picture Alex sitting at the table
with the cards in his big hands and a look of quiet, but
determined, contemplation on his face. “Make another cake.”

“That’s what
Paul keeps nagging me to do.”

There was a
male objection voiced in the background.

“Ignore him,”
Becky continued.

Hearing another
male voice add something, Harly wondered which voice belonged to
Alex. It was hard to know.

“And him, too,”
Becky added.

“You’re wanting
female company to balance the testosterone?” Smiling, Harly
switched off the grill and carefully put the grilled cheese open
sandwiches on a plate.

“I don’t know
about testosterone. You make them sound manly or something.”

Manly was
definitely what Harly thought when she pictured Alex. “Or
something.”

“So…?” Becky
asked hopefully.

“Nope. Sorry.”
At her friend’s groan, Harly said, “Seriously, I have to get these
orders finished.”

“I could
help.”

“I said
finished, not destroyed.”

“Oh, that’s
harsh.”

“The truth
often is.” Harly poured hot water over the teabag. “Read a book,
Becky. Put your feet up. Watch TV.”

“Okay.” Becky
sighed. “Since you’re not coming to rescue me, I guess I’ll have
to.”

“Don’t run the
guilt trip on me, sister, it won’t work.” Placing the mug on the
table, Harly retrieved the plate of hot grilled sandwiches and sat
down.

“Pooh. Okay, I
understand that you like being by yourself and sewing. Weird, but
okay. If you change your mind, let me know.”

“I won’t, but
thanks.”

Switching off
the phone, Harly laid it on the table and reaching across, she
grabbed the book she’d been reading and opened it. Sitting down,
she ate and read and sipped her tea, and outside the rain grew
heavier.

Thunder boomed,
drawing her attention from the book, and gathering up the plate and
mug, she washed the dishes and put them away before standing before
the window and again watching the view.

There was
something about rainy, wild weather that attracted her. Maybe it
was because it blocked the road from sight and made her feel as
though she were all alone in her little oasis. Leaning forward and
angling her head, she peered down the side of the veranda and
smiled. On the metal stand she’d set up just under the far end for
that precise purpose, about twelve doves huddled together out of
the rain. Under cover, they tucked their beaks close to their
chests and puffed out their feathers.

Turning off the
kitchen light, she checked on the animals, finding Chuckie curled
up on her bed and Pepper on the sofa, while Buffy had returned to
her cushion by the sofa. Sunny had fallen asleep on a box covered
in an old blanket in the sewing room, the braiding lying forgotten
on the floor.

After turning
on the sewing room light, Harly switched on the CD player and
sewing machine once more and settled down to work.

Finishing the
main sewing, she put the dress on the dummy and studied it. Nodding
in satisfaction, she started on the minor details, adding the zip
and buttons before doing the final hemming. Placing it once again
on the dummy, she stepped back and studied it.

A flash of
lightening in the window made her look out to see that the rain was
teeming down and regular flares of lightening were streaking across
the darkening sky.

No more sewing
by machine tonight, and with a regretful sigh she turned off the
sewing machine and CD player. No matter, she could tack the lace
around the throat by hand ready to finish on the sewing machine
once the lightening had finished.

No sooner had
she thought this than the light dimmed before brightening once
more. Going out to the kitchen, she retrieved a torch from the
drawer as a precaution to the power going out and returned to the
sewing room.

It wasn’t long
before she was once again immersed in the sewing. It was only when
Buffy suddenly barked from the direction of the front of the house
that she realised how late it was getting. As she stood, she saw
that twilight was falling outside, or maybe it was earlier but the
clouds were making it so much darker. A glance at the clock on the
wall as she left the room showed it to be five in the
afternoon.

Standing at the
front door, Buffy gave another bark and Harly wondered who would be
foolish enough to drive out to her place in the terrible weather.
Unless someone was lost, then who knew who it could be?

Flicking the
outside light on so that she could see properly, her eyes widened
in surprise to find Alex standing on the other side of the locked
security screen. Slapping his wet cap against his leg, he was just
reaching up to clang the bell hanging by the door. Obviously she
hadn’t heard earlier because of the driving rain.

“Alex?”
Unlocking the screen door, she swung it open. “What are you doing
here?”

“Checking on
you.” He glanced behind her to the lit hallway beyond.

“Checking on
me?” Bewildered, she, in turn, looked past him to see his Jeep
parked close to the house.

“Becky tried to
ring you when the storm grew worse, but there was no answer.”

“I didn’t hear
the phone ring, it must be out. It happens sometimes when the
storms are bad.” She frowned up at him. “Why on earth did you come
out in this weather?”

“We were
worried.”

“I’m fine.”

That all-seeing
gaze slid over her once more, unnerving her a little.