The Maxwell Sisters (31 page)

‘I know,' Eve nodded. ‘It's hard being pregnant like this. Listen, try to live in the moment. Just let the past go, and try to look at the future and picture what you want it to be. And then when you're ready, you'll know what to do.'

Tash already knew what she wanted it to be. It was the same gentle daydream she'd had since she and Heath had become engaged. The two of them together, with their three perfect children laughing and playing in the backyard, like a corny sitcom. But it was just a fluffy fairytale. All pink smoke and no substance. Real life was so much harder, so much meaner.

She didn't know whether she had the strength to go through it all again.

On Friday mornings, particularly at nine am, the cellar door was generally empty. If there was anyone in there at all, it was usually a hardcore wine writer or Mrs Caffrey, the local busybody, who had been doing the Yallingup winery circuit in her retirement years simply for the pleasure of collecting gossip about her neighbours.

Luckily, neither was present at the cellar door when Eve walked in that morning. She hadn't visited this part of her father's estate since she'd arrived home. Her focus had been on the restaurant and the family, not the family business, which, from the looks of things, seemed to be thriving without her attention anyway.

Everything in the Tawny Brooks cellar door was polished. Polished wooden floorboards, polished timber bar, polished tables and stools you could see your face in. As she came in, their merchandise was on her right – from hats and tea towels, to those corny silver spoons old ladies like to collect. Mrs Caffrey had a chest full of them. On her left was a group of very comfortable looking couches and a small bookshelf of wine magazines and literature. As a teenager, she had loved coming in here to do her homework, read or think. It was a quiet space that she regarded as her own.

Directly opposite the double-doored entrance, against the back wall, was a crescent-shaped timber bar, probably reflecting her father's obsession with the moon. At this magic counter, many a tourist came in to taste and comment on Tawny Brooks' finest wines. Behind it, hanging on the walls, were all the awards they'd won, and several photos of her parents at shows around Perth and interstate. There were even a couple of photos of her and her sisters up there – arms around each other, working behind the bar. They'd all done their fair share at some stage.

Memories swamped her as she moved towards the couches, her eyes glued to those photos. How could something so right become so wrong? Her father was not the man in these photos. Nor was she the girl smiling there.

And Tash … Tash was pregnant!

After hearing the news the day before, she was still trying to process it. It had been a wake-up call, sitting there looking at her sister's pale and washed-out face, the weight of the world on her shoulders. She was going to be a mother, and she had a decision to make that would no longer just affect her life but the life of her child.

All of Eve's insecurities seemed to pale into insignificance. She was scared of running the restaurant. In comparison, it was pathetic. People came up against challenges all the time. She could see the lines of determination on Tash's face, the strength in her heart, the depth of her love. She would get through this. With the support of her family and her sisters, she would get through this.

And then Eve saw herself, always sitting on the sidelines. Not participating and watching life pass her by. Ever since she'd arrived in Tawny Brooks all she'd done was hide. Hide from her feelings, hide from the restaurant and hide from her family, trying to be anything but herself. Being here again for just two weeks, she could feel the earth seeping back into her bones. She loved it at Tawny Brooks. She loved it at Yallingup. She didn't want to go back to Margareta's. Why did she let her fear get the better of her?

As if to back up her thoughts, her second biggest fear walked into the room just at that moment. Adonis looked deliciously virile, carrying a rather large carton of cabernet merlot, which he placed upon the bar before turning to greet her. Her heart immediately jumped in her chest as she sat there, caught in the crosshairs of his gaze. His hair was windswept and his eyes glittered dangerously. Why was it that trouble was always so bloody sexy?

‘Hello, Eve.' His lips turned up in his usual facetious grin. ‘Have you been lying in wait for me?'

‘You wish,' she returned breathlessly, nerves and eagerness seizing her all at once. Was she actually happy to see him? Who was she kidding? Of course she was happy to see him. Her skin was already clammy.

Damn it!
The problem with having a fake boyfriend, who held your hand in public, came to have dinner with you every night, enquired most solicitously about your life and chastely kissed you goodnight while your family waved him out the door, was that you started getting used to that sort of treatment. You started to enjoy it. You started to miss him when he wasn't around. And if he was late for dinner even by ten minutes, you grumpily began to wonder where the hell he was!

This was the first time they had been alone together since the conversation in the sitting room when it had all begun. There was no need at all for pretence in here.

‘Well,' he cocked his head, ‘if you're not waiting for me then why are you here?'

She shrugged. ‘I just come here to think sometimes.'

‘Really?' His mouth twitched as though he were about to laugh. ‘You do have some strange habits, Eve.'

She could tell he was thinking about her cooking at three in the morning in her sister's lingerie, trying to recapture the dream she had lost. She blushed, hoping he wouldn't call her out again on that.

Luckily he was not looking at her but behind the bar instead. ‘Where are the cellar hands?'

‘I think they just stepped out for a smoke.'

He shook his head. ‘I'll have to chat to them about keeping this counter manned at all times.'

‘It's always slow in the morning.'

‘Doesn't matter.'

There was an awkward silence.

‘All right,' he nodded. ‘Well, I'll get out of your hair then.'

She could not quell the disappointment inside her when he headed for the door. A kind of desperation gripped her.

‘Adam, wait.'

He stopped and looked back. ‘What is it, Eve?'

I don't want you to go.

I want you to stay here and be with me like a real boyfriend.

I need someone to talk to.

Because I'm thinking about taking a risk, about jumping out of this skin.

And … you seem to be the only person I can truly be honest with.

He frowned. ‘What's happened?'

And because she needed some excuse to keep him around she blurted, ‘Tash's pregnant and Dad's having an affair.'

‘What?'

‘You can't tell anyone.'

He came and sat down on the couch beside her, his eyebrows drawing together. ‘Eve, your father is not having an affair. I think I would know if he was. And as for your sister, well, wow! Isn't that a good thing?'

‘It's complicated.'

‘Complicated how?'

She placed her hands on her face. ‘I shouldn't have told you anything. It's not even my news to share.'

He sat back a little. ‘More secrets you want me to keep for you. Is this all really necessary, Eve?'

As she searched his face, she realised the true reason she'd called him over wasn't just because she liked his company but because she needed his witty banter and teasing tone right now. He always knew how to make light of everything and lift her spirits. The only problem was, he wasn't playing ball.

‘Sorry,' she said on a rush. ‘I shouldn't have bothered you with this. I just wanted a friend to talk to.'

He looked down at her. ‘So we're friends now, are we?'

She nodded with a shy smile. ‘Well, yes. After everything we've been through together, I think we can call us that.'

He frowned. ‘I thought you didn't want to be my friend.'

‘Well, I've changed my mind.' She looked at him crossly, slightly offended by the furrow in his brow. ‘I'm sorry if that upsets you.'

‘Damn right it upsets me.'

‘Why?' Her own brows drew together. ‘Because I think you're a nice guy?'

‘Eve,' he took her hands, ‘you know that I'm always happy to talk to you about anything. But I haven't pretended to be your boyfriend because I'm a nice guy.' Then he grabbed her face under the chin and pressed a hard, determined kiss to her lips, causing all the breath to rush out of her body in one single blast.

He let her go. ‘Just wanted to make that perfectly clear.' As soon as he stood up, she felt bereft.

‘Where are you going?' she demanded.

His eyebrows jumped wickedly as he looked back. ‘You want me to stay?'

She blinked in confusion. The truth was, she didn't know what she wanted. ‘No, no. I'll be fine. I'll just sit here by myself and worry.'

‘Eve,' he laughed, ‘you know what you need to do?'

‘What?'

‘Cook.' He nodded decisively. ‘Go to your restaurant and invite everyone to breakfast and cook.'

‘What?' Her mouth went dry.

‘You wouldn't do it for me,' he shrugged, ‘but do it for your family. Do it for yourself. Breathe some fresh air into your life. You'll feel so much better for it. And,' he groaned, ‘so will I.'

As he walked out of the cellar door, she was left to contemplate his words, and they couldn't help but ring true to her. Why was she sitting here moping, dwelling on her own fears? It was a stupid thing to do. Her own advice to Tash came back to her.

‘Try to live in the moment. Just let the past go, and try to look at the future and picture what you want it to be.'

Wasn't she a hypocrite if she couldn't follow this advice herself? She remembered it was her father who had first told her to stop waiting around. She smiled. The parable of the grape varieties – he had not planted the eighth variety and time had taken the choice from him. Was that what she wanted for herself too? For all her opportunities and choices to disappear?

Life's not that much of a bitch, Eve.
She remembered Adam's words from the vineyard and hearing his voice in her head again was like a little cut against her heart.

You've got to let it go. Cut yourself some slack.
She stood up from the couch, determination straightening her spine.
All right, I'll do it.

 

On Sunday morning, they finally completed renovating the restaurant and it was ready for use. Her sisters and their partners, Adam and a few others who had worked on the project, gathered there to admire their handiwork.

The tables were already dressed with pristine white tablecloths and flanked by high-backed, polished pine chairs. They'd painted the walls cream to bring out the dark shininess of the boards they had laid and freshly varnished. The pictures they had hung on the walls were photos from the Tawny Brooks gardens – with camera zooms so close you could see the dew on the petals of orchids and the lines of age in the leaves of the gums. As everyone stood around congratulating themselves on how good it looked, with its freshly washed windows and modern light fittings, Eve made an announcement.

It was probably one of the first announcements she had made in her entire life. Public speaking was another fear she tended to give in to. ‘To celebrate,' she lifted her voice, ‘I've decided to make pancakes for you all in the restaurant kitchen.'

Faces turned towards her, nobody said a word.

‘You know,' she continued, feeling like she needed to fill the awkward silence. ‘Kind of like an early lunch, late breakfast. If you're keen, that is.'

Phoebe clapped her hands.

Tash gave a whoop.

‘Of course we're keen,' said Heath.

Spider threw open the double-doored entrance to her old workplace. ‘We'll help you.'

As they all walked through, she caught Adam looking at her, a gentle smile on his mouth. He gave her the thumbs up sign, causing her to flush. However, instead of following her in with the others, he turned around and left. She hid her disappointment by getting straight to work.

Five minutes later, however, her mother and father and Graeme and Patricia, who had not been there when she'd made the announcement, walked into the room. Anita came immediately to her side, folding her in her arms as pancakes sizzled in three different pans on the stove. Her sisters were sitting on stools teasing Eric big-sister-style and chopping fruit. Heath and Spider were whipping cream. Judging by the size of the feast in store, none of them would need lunch.

‘Adam told us,' Anita whispered in her ear. ‘We had to come see for ourselves.'

Her father squeezed her shoulder and kissed her cheek. ‘And it was definitely worth it.'

A lump formed in Eve's throat. ‘It's just pancakes, Dad.'

Mad Maxwell's eyes twinkled. ‘It's a new beginning.'

She smiled. It was true and she felt lighter for having done it. The only thing that hung around her heart was that Adam had not returned with them. Of all the people in this room, he had been the one person she definitely owed breakfast to.

 

With the restaurant ready to go, the Maxwells and the Fitzwilliams turned their attention to the remaining wedding preparations. Eve and Natasha got together the next day to plan Phoebe's hen's night. It was also an opportunity to talk without their sister around. Ever since the bride had made up with her groom there didn't seem to be anything that could upset her. And they wanted to keep it that way.

Eve watched her sister's tired face as she focused on a computer screen. They were both sitting in front of their mother's laptop, surfing through local restaurants and reading menus.

‘How are you feeling anyway?' she asked tentatively.

Tash grimaced. ‘Oh, you know, nauseous, tired and totally confused.'

‘Have you told Phoebe anything about you and Heath?'

‘Only that we're still trying to work things out and I want it kept under wraps for now.'

‘Does she know you're pregnant?'

‘No,' Tash quickly shook her head, ‘but let's not talk about me.' She tried to lighten the expression on her face by looking up from the screen. ‘Tell me about Adam.' She leaned forward. ‘You've been awfully quiet about him. Given us absolutely no details.'

Eve sighed. It was time to come clean. ‘That's because there are none. It was all a ruse, we aren't having an affair.'