What Love Sounds Like (4 page)

‘Here, Tilly,’ Mia said, holding out an empty bowl, ‘put the popcorn in here. Your uncle has his own special bowl, remember?’

At Mia’s words, Tilly dumped the popcorn into the bowl and turned on her heel. Popcorn flew from under her feet as she ran over to the island bench.

Mia took the half-filled container from his hands. ‘I know you only wanted plain popcorn but Tilly decided to surprise you.’

Tilly returned and presented him with a small green bowl. ‘Taramel, Untle Tade.’

Words didn’t form in either his mind or mouth. The only thing to sound in his head was the tick of a clock as it marked time. If the popcorn Tilly passed him hadn’t been coated in caramel he’d have had no idea what Tilly had said. In just fourteen days Tilly’s speech had to be intelligible. The sweet smell of the popcorn turned his stomach. He
had
to get the only life he ever knew back.

‘Don’t you lite it?’

Worry wobbled in her small voice. Suspicious moisture shimmered in her eyes. His mouth dried. Tears to him were like kryptonite to the superhero in the movie Tilly had assured him she was old enough to watch. They rendered him powerless.

‘I do,’ he said quickly. ‘Caramel is my…favourite.’

Tilly’s face broke into a grin and she skipped over to the small dustpan and brush that lay on the floor beside the garbage bin.

Frustration shouldered aside his anxiety as Tilly swept up popcorn with well-practised expertise. This wasn’t the first time popcorn had covered the kitchen floor like a winter snowfall. He placed the caramel popcorn on the bench. But it would be the last. He swung around to look for Mia

‘Working hard?’ he asked.

She finished tipping popcorn into a rectangular container as though he’d merely commented on the weather. Then she added the container to the pile in front of her, before facing him. ‘Tilly’s a little superstar. She’s made some great inroads this morning.’

‘How could she have possibly learned anything?’ He cast a swift glance around the kitchen. ‘Popcorn isn’t synonymous with success, only with mess.’

‘If you remember what I said earlier, much of Tilly’s therapy will be play-based. Look…’ Mia walked past him, collected his bowl of caramel popcorn off the bench and offered it to him. ‘Eat this and you’ll see.’

‘I came for coffee. Not a snack.’

Her lips pressed together as though she were dredging up her last drop of patience. ‘Please eat your popcorn and then you’ll know what Tilly has been working on this morning.’

Upon hearing her name, Tilly looked up from the pile of popcorn she’d swept into the dustpan.

‘Remember caramel is your
favourite
,’ Mia pressed.

The corners of Tilly’s mouth turned down. He accepted the bowl Mia continued to hold out toward him and selected a small clump of popcorn. He kept his frown in place even as a burst of sweet, nutty flavour delighted his taste buds.

He went to hand Mia back the popcorn. She shook her head. ‘One piece isn’t the agreed amount.’

He hesitated. As much as he hated to acknowledge it, Mia was right. He had agreed to one bowl. It wasn’t only his tenacity he was renowned for. He was also considered a man of his word. He lifted a piece of sticky popcorn to his lips. And then another.

Mia nodded. Tilly smiled.

He raised a yet another piece of popcorn to his mouth and paused.

‘Don’t stop now,’ Mia said, her lips curving.

‘No pressure,’ he said fighting to ensure his expression remained unimpressed. There was something infectious about the smile hovering in Mia’s eyes, something as infectious as the plague.

‘Absolutely. No pressure,’ she said.

But still he didn’t eat the popcorn.

Her smile grew. ‘You’re not reneging on your one bowl agreement, are you?’

‘Never.’ He attempted to swallow. ‘It’s just that I’ve got something stuck…’

‘In the back of your throat,’ she finished for him. She looked across at Tilly. ‘Can you please show your uncle the popcorn-clearing sound?’

Tilly nodded and cleared her throat.

‘Great work.’ The smile she gave Tilly was so warm, so beautiful, he was almost tempted to clear his own throat.

He frowned again. He was a grown man not some impressionable four-year-old who held no defences against the sweetness of Mia’s smile. He lowered the uneaten popcorn into the bowl.

‘This morning Tilly had no idea where the sound ‘k’ came from,’ Mia said. ‘By eating popcorn and needing to clear her throat she has now connected the sound with the back of her mouth. Say ‘k’, Kade.’

He knew he shouldn’t encourage Mia’s games, let alone participate, but the warmth lingering in her eyes possessed magical powers.

‘K,’ he said.

‘Perfect. See where such a sound comes from?’

He nodded and tamped down a rush of pleasure at her approval.

Grown man. Remember
?

Tilly came to stand at Mia’s side and made the popcorn clearing sound again. Mia laughed and brushed a lock of Tilly’s blonde hair out of her eyes. ‘I think your Uncle Kade knows where the back of his throat is now too.’

Kade stared at the little girl grinning before him. Mia hadn’t even been at Berrilea twenty-four hours and already he barely recognised Tilly as the heart-broken niece who’d been entrusted to him a little over a month ago. And it wasn’t only the ridiculous hat and apron that made her look different. There was a new glow in her grey eyes and a vibrancy to her smile.

The sweetness of the caramel popcorn in his mouth dissolved into bitterness. Tilly wasn’t the only one he didn’t recognise. What was he doing wasting time in a kitchen filled not only with popcorn but also with a woman’s and child’s laughter? Money was the only thing that mattered and gave him a feel-good adrenaline rush. Not a caramel sugar-high, not people and definitely not feelings. He needed to get back on task. And so did Mia.

‘Playing with popcorn in the kitchen might have paid dividends,’ he growled and plonked the caramel popcorn bowl onto the bench top. ‘But the music room has been prepared for your use. I’d appreciate you using it.’

It hadn’t mattered how commanding his tone had been in the kitchen that morning, or how much he’d scowled, Mia hadn’t listened to a single word he’d said. Instead of heeding his logical demand that she relocate to the designated therapy room she’d informed him that such a venue wouldn’t be suitable for Tilly’s next lesson. She’d then turned away as if dismissing him like he was nothing but a troublesome student. He’d no idea where she and Tilly had spent the rest of the day. All he knew was that it wasn’t in the music room.

He rubbed at his tight forehead. He’d worked through dinner and was long overdue for a caffeine hit but for some reason the thought of seeing Mia again kept him upstairs. He hadn’t intended to use such a harsh tone with her. What was it about her that continually placed him on the defensive? He could almost swear that the restlessness now plaguing him was guilt, except he didn’t do emotion. His childhood had cured him of any need to feel and his corporate life had reinforced the message that only the clear-headed and the strong survived.

Noise thundered from outside his closed office door. Laughter, interspersed with breathless giggles, grew in volume until it sounded as though a classroom of children stampeded up the stairs. Either that or a herd of the mini-rhinoceroses Tilly had shown him on the lap-top and asked him if she could get as a pet. He passed a weary hand over his face. He’d wanted to know where Tilly and Mia were. Now he knew.

He opened the door to the sight of a pink-pyjama-clad Tilly crawling up the stairs on hands and knees with Mia following behind, tickling her bare toes. Sheer joy lit up his niece’s face.

A reprimand formed and died.

Ms. Windsor no longer appeared the epitome of professionalism. Despite still wearing her no-nonsense shirt, the top-button had worked free, exposing the pale gleam of her throat. Her hair was still restrained but soft, auburn tendrils now fell around her cheeks. Her amber eyes shone with happiness instead of disapproval.

Beautiful women were never a novelty. Never a distraction.

He folded his arms and allowed the day’s frustration to tighten his face. But Tilly was oblivious to his censure. She squealed, grabbed his trouser legs and hid behind him. Her hands shook so much he turned to check she was actually laughing and not crying.

She beamed up at him. ‘Mia’s tashing me.’

Mia reached the landing. Tilly’s squeal pierced his ears.

‘Tilly, I don’t think…’ he said. But she wasn’t listening. She’d released his legs and sprinted toward her room, her fine blonde hair fanning out behind her.

He stifled a groan. What he wouldn’t give to be back in his quiet and predictable adult world. He met Mia’s laughing eyes. A world where the inner beauty of a woman’s smile didn’t unnerve him. His hands clenched beneath his crossed arms. Control had to be implemented and until he returned to his normal life he’d no choice but to impart order to his temporary one.

‘Mia. A word.’

‘Certainly.’ She flashed a high-wattage smile at Tilly who peeked out from her doorway down the hallway. ‘I’ll be there in a second. How about you choose a book for me to read before bedtime?’

‘Otay, I’ll toose two,’ Tilly said before disappearing into her room.

Mia faced him. ‘Sorry, did you want to read a story to Tilly?’

‘No.’ He failed to suppress a wince. ‘I want to make sure we’re on the same page as far as my niece’s therapy is concerned.’

‘And what page would that be?’ Her arms folded to mirror his pose.

‘One that has set therapy hours and clear boundaries.’

‘I see.’

He ignored the disgust that tinged her words as well as the resulting twinge of unease he felt. He needed to get Mia, and himself, back on task. Not dwell on the sudden fragility of his self-esteem.

‘Yes, you’re here to work on Tilly’s speech not to act as her nanny. Mrs. Shepherd has all of Tilly’s non-therapy needs covered.’

‘So what I’m hearing is that you’d like me to stick to a clear-cut programme of set hours, just as I would if I was working with Tilly in my Whylandra office?’

He uncrossed his arms. ‘Exactly.’

Mia was too much of a consummate professional not to see the logic in what he asked. Life had to be micro-managed. She also needed some downtime, she couldn’t work the entire time she was here. The strength of her spirit might be unquestionable but there was something about her fine-boned features and large eyes that made him want to look out for her.

‘So I suppose you’d also prefer me to travel back to town for the weekend?’ she asked.

He glanced up from checking his watch. Had mutiny tensed her mouth?

‘I hadn’t thought as far as the weekend, but yes, that sounds agreeable.’

She glanced toward his open office door. ‘I assume that you’ve made sure that your work is also on the same page?’

‘My work?’

‘Yes. I’m guessing you told them you’d only be off-grid for a fortnight. You might like to double that time-frame. Not to mention I’m fully booked for the three weeks after my stay here so won’t be able to continue Tilly’s therapy until at least next month. ‘

He swallowed. ‘Double the time away from the office?’

‘Definitely. I understood I’d come to Berrilea for
intensive
therapy. Now that it’s clear that I’m following an abridged version, then Tilly’s progress will not be as rapid.’

‘What are you saying?’

‘The more time I spend with Tilly, in all contexts, formal as well as informal, the quicker her therapy will be conducted and the quicker you can return to work. In business terms, it’s simple. Maximum input, maximum output. Minimum input…’

He held up a hand in a stop sign. ‘I get it.’

The panic roiling in his stomach told him he more than got it. His hand slowly lowered to his side. He had to agree to disorder to retain order.

He had to give Mia the green light to turn his safe and ordered world upside down.

THE NEXT morning Mia sat with Tilly in the cool of the white summer-house. A pair of galahs called overhead, their pink and grey wings flashing in the wide band of blue sky. Mia smiled as they turned as one and landed on the spreading branch of a red river gum tree. From the air the park-like garden would appear an oasis in a sea of scorched brown. Berrilea hadn’t heeded the memo that this area of Australia was slipping into drought. The nearby river ensured that the historic homestead had a plentiful supply of water and the careful blending of water-wise plants with traditional favourites meant that not a drop would be wasted.

Her smile deepened as Tilly placed an orange sock puppet on her hand and opened and closed her fingers to make the mouth move. The tranquillity of the outback had healed Mia and it would help this delightful child too, if given the chance. Tilly needed to feel the sun on her face and to have the space and freedom to be a child. The last thing Mia would do was entomb Tilly in a sterile music room, no matter how insistent her stony-faced uncle.

Mia rummaged in the laden basket beside her. She’d dealt with aggravating and difficult parents before. Ones who didn’t believe their child had a speech problem. Others who thought it wasn’t their responsibility to work on their child’s home programme. So why then did she feel so on edge when Kade was around? Why did she have to work so hard when near him to remain composed? It had to be because she was simply out of her physical comfort zone. Never before had she lived with a client when conducting therapy. The close proximity was only magnifying her distaste for a man who embodied the unemotional world she’d left behind. She just needed a little time to adjust to her new surroundings and her disarray would soon settle.

Tilly licked her lips as Mia placed a cereal box on the table.

Mia laughed. ‘Your tummy can’t possibly be empty again. You had three pieces of Vegemite toast for breakfast!’

Tilly rubbed at her stomach. ‘Still hund–ry.’

Mia pulled her chair in a little closer to the table. ‘We’ll do some work and then we’ll eat, okay?’

‘That’s the best thing I’ve heard all day,’ a masculine voice commented from behind them.