Miracle In March Page 12

  Emma scurried around the playground towards the reception office, hoping no one would notice her clothes were soaking wet beneath James’ towel.

  Damn. She turned briefly, remembering she’d left her cap on the beach. Stuff it, I’ll get it later. She was about to enter the office when Bob appeared behind her with a sandwich in his hand.

  ‘Hey, forget your swimming costume?’

  Her cheeks warmed. ‘I was just wading a little in the water but, um, there was a big wave, and…’ She glanced down at her dripping body.

  ‘Looks pretty calm out there to me,’ he replied. ‘Also looks enticing, maybe I’ll cool off with a dip after work. Water nice?’

  ‘Very. It’ll be cooler later though, maybe you should have one now.’

  ‘Nah, almost done with lunch, gotta get back to work or the boss might fire me.’ He winked, meaning her.

  ‘But what if the woman of your dreams is down at the beach right now and by waiting, you two will never meet and you’ll spend the rest of your life searching for each other?’ She smiled.

  He glanced towards the ocean. ‘Bugger. Now I’m torn.’

  ‘Take a swim if you want, Bob. The boys will hold down the fort for another fifteen minutes I’m sure.’

  ‘But won’t I get a stomach ache if I swim after eating?’ He chuckled.

  ‘That’s an old wives’ tale.’

  ‘Speaking of wives, if my dream woman is down there I’ll just have to trust that she’ll walk past the construction site afterwards. Destiny and all that.’

  ‘My mother would believe in that, for sure. And you never know. If I see any suitable women I’ll send them your way.’ She winked back and unlocked the door to reception. Then she realised she should change out of her clothes, so locked the door again, going instead to her cottage to get a new outfit.

  When she was back at her desk, she opened the email inbox on her phone. She still hadn’t replied to Jen’s message. She reread it and tried to think of a reply.

  How are you feeling about it now? What happens now? Are you going to spend some time with him?

  Confused. I don’t know. Yes.

  Her answers formed in her mind, but she would need to elaborate. She typed in a reply and filled Jen in on how she’d spent some time with James already — lunch, the barbeque with the family, and splashing around on the beach and embracing in a towel. What would be next? Would there be a next?

  Jen, my mind is racing. I feel like I don’t deserve to know him again, to be with him again, after hurting him like I did. But he seems to have forgiven me, in fact, it’s almost like old times. We’re talking, laughing even, and he’s telling me personal things about his life. What do you think he wants? Just to make amends while he’s here and then go our separate ways when he leaves in three days? I’m confused, I’m hopeful, I’m scared, all at once. He’s not just James anymore, he’s James and Jackson — a package deal. It’s not something to take lightly.

  I did realise something though: I still love him.

  What am I going to do?

  I’ve come up with three reasons why it’s a bad idea to get involved with him again:

  1. I was about to go travelling! I still want to. I can’t start a relationship then disappear (again). And I can’t expect him to hang around and wait for me to figure my life out (again).

  2. I’m worried my deception will always hang over our heads, even though he says he understands.

  3. What if I’m no good for Jackson? And what if James wants to have another child?

  Maybe I should leave the past where it belongs, go overseas, and start fresh.

  Emma hit ‘send’, then checked for any work emails and updated the Facebook page with an enticing picture of a hammock strung between two trees, overlooking the beach. Her email pinged on her phone. A reply from Jen already?

  Hey hun,

  Quick reply as my kids are with the teacher’s aide while I escaped to the bathroom. One of the darlings spilled paint on me. Such joy.

  Anyway, if he’s forgiven you, then quit worrying. Go with the flow. Enjoy reconnecting with him while he’s there. And in response to your 3 objections:

  1. If you still want to travel, then do it. Otherwise you’ll regret it. If you’re meant to be together, somehow it will all work out.

  2. Though he won’t forget about what you did to him, he also won’t forget about why you did it. Worry is wasted energy.

  3. I only know what you’ve told me about Jackson, but I can’t imagine any woman who would be better for him than you. And future kids? Maybe he doesn’t want any, or maybe he would be prepared to adopt.

  Okay, here’s what I think you should do…

  The door to reception opened and Emma glanced up from her phone, feeling like a schoolgirl getting sprung for doing something naughty when she was supposed to be working.

  ‘You left this at the beach.’ James held her cap in his hand.

  Emma quickly closed her inbox. Great timing!

  ‘Oops, thanks.’ She stood.

  James stepped forwards then glanced at one of the framed pictures on the counter top. ‘Nice drawing, is that by a local artist?’

  Emma scratched her arm. ‘Um, actually, it’s me. I did it.’

  James’ eyes widened. ‘I didn’t know you could draw. How did I not know that?’

  ‘I used to do a bit when I was younger, but only got back into it a few years ago. I found it therapeutic.’

  ‘Do you have many completed drawings?’ he asked, his wet hair dangling across his eyes.

  She nodded. ‘Quite a few.’

  ‘You’ll have to show me sometime, when you’re not busy working.’

  Was that an invitation? Did he really want to see her drawings or did he just want to see her?

  ‘That is, if you want to.’

  ‘No, yes, I mean I’d be happy to. They’re not totally amazing or anything, but —’

  ‘How about tonight?’ he said calmly.

  ‘Tonight?’

  ‘Yeah, you can do a little private art show for me.’ He smiled. ‘Drop in whenever.’

  Did that mean right after work, or dinner, after dinner?

  ‘And if it happens to be around dinnertime I’ve got it covered, Mum made some kind of one-pot-wonder with last night’s leftovers.’

  Could he read her mind?

  ‘But my parents are doing their own thing tonight, going out for a meal. So it’ll just be us. And Jax.’

  Emma wondered if perhaps this was some kind of test to see how she coped around Jackson the more time she spent with him. Was James sussing things out in case they resumed their relationship? She wished she’d had a chance to read Jen’s advice before he came into the office and interrupted her emailing, in case it had crucial James Advice that would have been helpful to take into account.

  ‘Sounds good. I’m doing yoga after work but I’ll pop over after that.’ Boy, were things getting busy. She’d hardly had any time to herself this week.

  ‘Yoga aficionado and an artist. You’re full of surprises.’

  ‘Oh, I’m definitely no aficionado. Haven’t done yoga in a while so I’ll probably fall flat on my face or pull a muscle!’ She shifted her weight to the other foot and grasped her arm awkwardly.

  ‘I’ll keep an icepack handy at the cabin.’ He chuckled.

  ‘Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence.’

  ‘Best to be prepared. See you later.’ He placed the cap upside down on the counter and walked out.

  Emma lifted the cap and noticed something resting inside it. A seashell. The one James had used as the satellite dish on top of the sandcastle. Her fingers ran over the serrated surface, reminding her of the bumpy but beautiful ride their relationship had been. Had been. She held it to her ear, the vacuous whoosh filling her mind with memories of the past. Five and a half years. Where would she be and what would she be reminded of in another five and a half years if she held this shell to her ear again? Would this week be a distant memory,
or the start of something new and wonderful?

  Emma put the shell into her pocket. She’d put it next to the candle on her bedside table later on, and no matter what happened after this week, she vowed that the shell would serve as a reminder of forgiveness, understanding, and hope. If she never had James in her life again, at least she’d have that.

  * * *

  As Emma walked across the grass towards the beach for the free yoga session after work, she thought about what Jen had suggested in her email:

  Okay, here’s what I think you should do…

  Casually ask him what his plans are for the future, get an idea of how his goals and dreams have changed. But also, enjoy the time you have with him while he’s there. Be in the moment and allow yourself to feel, so you can see if there’s still something between you. Feelings first, decisions later.

  It was easy for her to say that, Jen’s relationship with her boyfriend, Sean, was all about spontaneity and going with the flow, and despite their apparent commitment to each other, there’d been no talk of marriage or even living together. But maybe she was right. And barring tonight, there were only two more days to interact with James. Although half of Sunday would be out of the picture as she would be driving to Jen’s birthday party in Sydney.

  Feelings first, decisions later. Mantra for the week.

  Right. Easy. Feelings had a mind of their own, decisions required more brainpower than she had right now. And right now, it was time to focus on the feelings of her muscles stretching and body bending, the ocean breeze refreshing her mind. That, she could handle.

  Emma took off her shoes, stepped onto the sand, and walked over to the flat area of beach near the rock wall.

  ‘Hi, Emma, right?’ asked Chrissie the yoga instructor, as she turned her attention away from a couple of women.

  Emma nodded. ‘Hi.’

  ‘Glad you could finally make it.’

  Emma had chatted to her a couple of weeks ago and promised she’d join in the classes when she could.

  The women introduced themselves to Emma and she told them she was running the cabins for the time being. ‘Must be a great job!’ said Louise, a middle-aged woman with long hair tied into a ponytail yet still reaching to her lower back.

  ‘It’s a beautiful place to be.’ Emma smiled.

  ‘Sure is. Especially with Chrissie’s free classes here. They are an absolute godsend to me, gives me a break from my demanding children!’ Louise rolled her eyes.

  Emma’s stomach twinged. She knew Louise was just making light conversation and that parenthood could be tough, but comments like this made her uncomfortable. She would love to have children to place demands on her. Because as well as those demands came loving moments, developmental milestones, laughter, bedtime cuddles, and… Oh, she couldn’t allow herself to think of those things. If she had been meant to be a ‘Louise’, then it would have happened, and she never would have had the uterine cancer. Some things just weren’t meant to be.

  ‘Do you have kids?’ Louise asked.

  Oh, the dreaded question. Again. Why did it always come up when talking to other women? Why couldn’t they ask things like, ‘What do you do in your spare time?’ or, ‘Seen any good movies lately?’ It was as though a woman’s life in her reproductive years was defined by her ability or decision to bear offspring.

  ‘No,’ Emma replied. Conversation closed.

  ‘How’s your boy, Chrissie?’ asked Louise, turning to face the instructor, and thankfully, avoiding any additional commentary on why Emma didn’t have children and whether she wanted any in future.

  ‘Kai is growing up very quickly, sometimes I think he’s seven going on seventy!’ She laughed, her blonde ponytail wafting in the breeze. ‘He has a certain way he sees the world, and follows his own path. Tells it how it is too, doesn’t worry if nobody agrees with him.’

  Sounds like my father.

  ‘He’ll go far,’ said Louise, and a few other people arrived on the beach for the class, two men included. One of them was quite young and attractive, and Emma found herself smiling at him. Maybe she should stretch her horizons a little and branch out, see the world and consider the possibility that there was someone else out there for her when the time was right. There was more to the world than James Gallagher.

  The class began with a few rounds of Salute to the Sun, though in this case, heading towards dusk, it was more like a Farewell to the Sun. Emma’s body started out as stiff and uncooperative, but by the time they’d progressed to further poses, or asanas, it had loosened up a little. Except one side of her neck, which she must have slept on funny the night before as it had been bugging her all day with a dull ache. Before her five-year remission mark, anytime she had an ache or pain or sickness her mind would try to prepare her for the possibility of the cancer returning, though obviously not in the uterus, but there could have been metastatic cells that had been missed and taken up residence elsewhere. But now, she would have to push those automatic thoughts out of her head. It had been five years, she’d been given the all clear, and she needed to get on with her life without fear or worry. As Jen had said: worry is wasted energy.

  Emma breathed deeply into each pose, imagining clarity and calmness filling her body with each inhalation. She noticed the young man, his lean, defined body effortlessly bending and twisting into position, and admired the beauty of his ability and physique. Would James ever do yoga? She couldn’t really imagine him doing it, but then again, what did she know of him these days? She could definitely see him out there in the waves on a surfboard though, and had in the past, and she wondered how often he got to do that nowadays with his time taken up with his business and Jackson.

  Chrissie helped Emma maximise the advanced poses she had difficulty with, though fatigue seeped into her muscles. She would have to do this more often to get back into shape and improve her flexibility.

  Near the end of the class, Chrissie got a tall glass candle holder from her bag, and reached down to the small pink candle within it with a gas lighter, bringing the flame to life. She nestled it into a flat patch of sand. ‘As we do our meditation to end the class, I’d like this light to be in honour of Maggie, a student of mine, who is no longer with us in body.’

  Louise exchanged sorrowful glances with another woman. They must have known her. Maybe the woman had come to these classes too. Another student clasped her hands together in prayer and bowed towards the candle. Although Emma didn’t know who Maggie was, she could feel the impact she’d had. Her life had been significant, memorable, she just knew it.

  The group sat cross-legged on the sand in meditation pose, hands resting on knees with palms facing upwards.

  ‘Now sit for a moment and focus on your breath, in and out,’ Chrissie said softly. ‘Don’t worry if your mind wanders a little, just bring it back to your breath. In the words of one of my favourite songs,’ she said with a smile in her voice, ‘Just Breathe…’

  Ah yes, the Drew Williams ballad, Emma recalled. Such a nice song with simple yet powerful lyrics. The song played in the jukebox of her mind…

  Sometimes life gets away from you,

  Sometimes life takes the joy from you,

  But when things around you come crashing down,

  And the past you’d rather forget keeps spinning you around,

  There are three little things that you must do, to bring you back to you…

  Don’t forget to breathe,

  Don’t forget to cry,

  Don’t forget to take the time to do what’s right, and bring your soul to life,

  Don’t forget to breathe…

  That’s what she needed to do: bring her soul to life. Take it out of the dark enclosure of fear and grief and finally let it run free. Do what was right for her, and enjoy the gift of life she’d been given a second chance with.

  A sense of calm and peace washed over her with every breath she took and every caress of the ocean breeze. Everything would work itself out. All she had to do was stay true
to herself and let things unfold the way they naturally would, however that would be.

  When she opened her eyes and Chrissie bowed a thank you to everyone for attending, Emma approached the instructor. ‘Thank you, that was really great.’

  ‘I’m glad. See you again next week?’

  ‘Yes, for sure.’ Emma smiled, picking up her shoes. ‘Do you mind if I ask, who was Maggie? What happened to her?’

  Chrissie tucked a strand of loose hair behind her ear and lowered her head a little. ‘She was a regular yoga enthusiast, that’s how I met her. Sadly, she passed away a couple of weeks ago. Cancer. She’d beaten it once before, but the second time around it was too aggressive, though she put up a good fight.’ Chrissie clamped her lips together and nodded in a resigned way.

  Oh gosh. ‘I’m so sorry,’ Emma whispered. ‘Second time around?’

  ‘Yes, she’d had a good run for eight years, but it recurred in another part of her body, sadly. Only forty-two years old.’

  Not fair. ‘Did she have any…children?’ Emma gulped.

  Chrissie shook her head. ‘Apparently she’d been planning them with her husband just before the first cancer appeared. Obviously the diagnosis changed those plans, and after her remission they decided against starting a family, partly because her treatment would have made it difficult, and partly because they decided to travel and fulfil their bucket lists instead,’ Chrissie explained. ‘They did become foster carers for a few years though, until…’

  Until she was the one who needed care.

  ‘I’m sorry if I’ve upset you by asking about her,’ said Emma.

  ‘Oh no, that’s fine. I think it’s good to talk about her, about people who’ve passed on. We need to remember them, and the positive things they did with their lives.’ Chrissie’s eyes seemed distant, as though remembering not only Maggie, but perhaps someone else.

  ‘I agree. And it’s lovely what you did, with the candle.’ Emma gestured to the flame still alight in the candle holder on the sand.

  ‘She loved candles. She actually gave me this one as a thank you for being her teacher.’ Chrissie’s eyes became glossy. ‘So I thought it was the perfect choice for tonight.’

  They stood and gazed at the flame for a few moments, transfixed by its sinuous flickering and golden glow. ‘Well, I’ll light one for her tonight too, as I read in bed,’ Emma promised.