Miracle In March Page 20

  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.’

  He nodded. ‘And at bedtime, his favourite book is on the bedside table. Sometimes I have to read it twice. And leave the hallway light on, and —’

  ‘James.’ Emma stepped close to him and took a firm hold of both of his hands. She looked him in the eye with calm, capable confidence. ‘I’ve got this.’

  * * *

  Emma distracted Jackson from the fact that all his family were leaving by playing a game with Owly as she walked with him down the hill. She tossed Owly into the air, he landed on the ground a little way ahead, then she counted to three and encouraged Jackson to run towards him and try to be the first one to rescue him. Gradually they made their way down the hill, and Emma noticed her mother hurrying towards her.

  ‘What happened?’ she asked. ‘I saw the ambulance.’

  Emma explained the dire situation and how she was looking after Jackson for the night.

  ‘Do you want to bring him to our place so I can help, would he be okay with that?’

  ‘Thanks Mum, but I think he’s probably better off in familiar surroundings.’

  ‘Okay, but call if you have any trouble.’

  ‘I will.’

  ‘I’ll let you get him settled then. Gosh, I hope that poor lass will be okay.’ She touched her hand to her forehead.

  Dread gnawed at Emma’s stomach. ‘I hope so too, I really hope so.’

  Emma ducked into the reception office to pick up the keys to James’ cabin. She remembered Amelia’s text message she’d received this morning, thanking Emma for the drawing.

  I love it! You are very talented, Emma. I’ll cherish it forever. xx

  And speak of the devil, as she walked along the pathway towards the cabin, she noticed Amelia sitting on a park bench facing the ocean, having what looked like a deep conversation with someone. Someone who looked slightly more stylish than when he was wearing his tradie getup. Bob. Was there anything going on between them? If so, it must have just been kickstarted because he (and she) had not said anything on Friday. Emma managed a brief smile. The two would get along well, she didn’t know why she hadn’t suggested they get to know each other earlier.

  As sunset darkened, she entered James’ cabin with Jackson and turned on the lights. Jackson withdrew his Sound Machine from his pocket and pressed the bouncy spring sound, then dashed to the end of the hallway, banged his palm on the wall, then ran to the other end and banged his palm near the door, then repeated his little routine a few times. It gave her a few moments to get her bearings and think what she needed to do.

  Dinner, bath, reading, bedtime. Right, she could do this. No worries.

  And as for her talk with James, she would probably have to come visit him in Welston sometime. Right now Lizzie was the priority, and her realisation at Jen’s party and the subsequent urgent desire to tell him would have to wait. Still, there was no guarantee he’d believe her declaration or be willing to risk his heart on her again, but she knew she couldn’t miss her chance to make things right with him once and for all.

  As for tonight, she had to make things right for Jackson.

  Emma opened the fridge. A couple of uncooked lamb cutlets sat in a plastic container. She presumed James had defrosted them overnight for Jackson’s dinner, so she took them out.

  Now, what to have with them?

  There was another container of some rice dish, but she wasn’t sure if it was free of the things he couldn’t eat. On the counter there was fruit, and a paper bag with potatoes. Potatoes, they would surely be acceptable to Jackson?

  Emma turned on the grill to heat it up for the cutlets, then peeled a potato and cut it into thin chips. She poured some olive oil into a frypan and when it was hot, slid the chips into the pan. They sizzled, and Jackson stopped his running back and forth and came over to the pan.

  ‘Ooh, careful sweetie. Hot!’

  He pressed his Sound Machine and a laughter sound blurted out. Emma laughed to match and the boy gave a small smile then ran back to the wall and banged on it. It would probably have little four-year-old hand marks dented into the plaster by the time they left tomorrow, but it didn’t matter.

  As the chips cooked she put the cutlets in the grill, then heated up the rice dish in the fridge for herself. Hopefully James wouldn’t mind.

  When the food was ready she put it on a plate. ‘Here you go, Jackson!’ She patted the table next to his meal. Jackson didn’t respond at first so Emma sat and ate a mouthful of hers. ‘Mmm, yum!’

  Jackson rubbed his nose and came over, propping his hands on the table’s edge. He looked at his plate, then at Emma’s.

  ‘That’s for Jackson. Yum, yum!’ She patted the chair and he climbed up and picked up a cutlet and bit into it.

  Phew. Emma would have hated it if he wouldn’t eat anything she cooked. She ate quickly, wanting to make sure she was completely ready to handle any sudden change in behaviour, as sometimes occurred with children on the spectrum.

  Emma’s phone beeped and she took it from her pocket. A text from James:

  Lizzie is in theatre, we don’t know much, just have to wait. Is Jackson ok?

  Emma took a deep breath. Not long ago the woman was saying goodbye to her grandmother and now she was having surgery. She closed her eyes and made a wish that Lizzie, and the baby, would be alright. Then she texted James back:

  Jackson is great, eating dinner now. Don’t worry abou
t a thing, I will stay as long as needed. Sending positive thoughts to Lizzie and all of you. Em.

  Although it seemed strange to be sending a message like that and signing off with ‘Em’ after their argument last night, it also felt good, even though a disaster was unfolding. Because it at least shone a light on what was really important. And it only reinforced her decision to try her best to convince him she was ready to make a commitment. Now, more than ever, she wanted to be there for him.

  Another text came in:

  Thanks Emma. Let me know if there are any problems.

  She replied:

  There won’t be. You be with your family and I’ll see you whenever you get back.

  Jackson finished his meal and jumped off the chair, making his way to the DVD player. He put a disc in and Emma smiled at his independence. As The Wiggles danced and sang, Jackson moved about and flapped his hands. When a song ended and they clapped, Jackson pressed his Sound Machine. Correction, he jabbed at it. He made a high-pitched squeal as he continued to jab it with his finger.

  Uh-oh. Emma walked over to him and looked at the machine. She pressed a button but no sound came out. Jackson screamed and Emma scrunched her face instinctively. The boy had a set of lungs on him.

  ‘It’s okay, Jackson, let me look at it.’ She managed to pry it from his grasp. It probably needed new batteries. Hopefully it wasn’t a problem with the actual device. She frowned. The red plastic box needed a screwdriver to open the battery compartment, and she knew for sure that the cabins didn’t have any, unless James was in the habit of bringing them with him.

  Emma opened the cutlery drawer to see if there was anything she could substitute, while Jackson’s face turned red and he cried. The knives were too big for the tiny screw, and so were her fingernails.

  Damn it. She realised also that owing to the small size of the machine it probably had those little round batteries instead of AAA batteries. Wonderful. So getting the compartment open was only half the battle. She knew there weren’t any of those batteries here, and she had no idea if there were any in the cottage. She’d have to look, as Jackson would probably be lost without his Sound Machine and she didn’t like her chances of getting him to go to sleep when he was this wound up.

  She grabbed her bag, picked up Owly and gave it to Jackson (who threw the toy on the ground and tried to reach for the Sound Machine), then picked up the owl and put it in her bag. ‘C’mon, Jackson, let’s get the Sound Machine fixed.’ She held out her hand, but he wouldn’t grab it. She took out her keys and jiggled them like she was about to leave, hoping he’d follow her. ‘Time to go! Let’s get new batteries and fix the sounds, hey?’

  He rushed to her side, still in tears, arms reaching for the device. Emma handed it to him and he jabbed at it. She turned it over and pointed to the compartment. ‘See? Needs new batteries to make it work. We can get some from my place.’ She held out her hand, again to no avail, so in one quick swoop she put her hands under his arms and scooped him up. Her back spasmed a little but she grunted and put up with it. She needed to get out the door and find new batteries ASAP. It was only when she was out of the cabin and had locked the door when she realised maybe she should have called her mum and asked her to bring some over, but either way Jackson would still cry. And besides, barely an hour into babysitting duties and she’s calling her mum for help? No, she wanted to take charge and handle it her own way.

  With Jackson on her hip she walked as fast as she could along the pathway until she reached her cottage. Jackson squirmed a little, his body tense and stiff, but she managed to keep hold of him until they were inside the house. He immediately ran around looking at every corner and crevice, every room, every cupboard, still wailing, while Emma rummaged through drawers and boxes. She found a screwdriver and opened the compartment. Yep, just as she’d thought. Two tiny round batteries were required. She looked around but it was no use. Time to go to her parents place.

  ‘Time to go again, Jackson. Up the hill, so we can find batteries, okay?’ She pointed to the machine and showed him how she’d opened the compartment so he (hopefully) knew she was trying to fix it. His forehead furrowed and lips scrunched up as he noticed the machine looked different, as though it had been operated on and was displaying its internal organs. She scooped him up again, tightened her core to avoid a back spasm, then locked up and made her way up the hill. Jackson’s cries had settled somewhat but he still repeated a high-pitched moan. Her mother opened the door before she got there.

  ‘I thought I heard something going on, what’s happened to Jackson?’ Barbara asked.

  ‘His Sound Machine is out of batteries, please tell me you have those little round ones here?’ Emma said.

  Please, please.

  ‘Oh dear, come on in. Hey there little fella.’ Barbara moved aside for them to enter. ‘I’ll have to have a look, hang on.’

  Emma went inside and put Jackson down. He ran to the back of the room and huddled in the corner, turning his face to the wall and fiddling with the cord on the vertical blinds. Then he let out a scream.

  ‘What’s the matter, mate?’ her dad asked, as he sat watching a movie.

  ‘Dad, maybe press pause on that in case it’s too loud for him.’

  He did as she said, and the movie sounds were replaced by clattering and clashing of items in drawers as Barbara searched.

  ‘Do you know where the batteries are, Don?’ Barbara asked in a loud voice.

  ‘Aren’t they on top of the fridge?’ he replied. ‘Of course, not that I can reach them, but I think I put some up there a while back. Shame the machine can’t run on the kid’s lung power.’

  ‘Dad, this is no time for jokes,’ Emma said.

  ‘Just trying to make light of the situation.’

  She wasn’t in the mood for his ‘sense of humour’. Emma went to Jackson and placed a calming hand on his back. ‘It’s okay, it’s okay.’ She took Owly from her bag and hugged it to her chest. ‘Look, Owly needs a hug. Can you give Owly a hug too?’

  Jackson looked at the toy and snatched it from her, pulling it close.

  ‘That’s better.’

  ‘Found some!’ Barbara exclaimed.

  Hallelujah.

  She came over and handed them to Emma, and she popped them in and secured the screws. Showtime. Emma hoped like hell it would work. She pressed the applause button that had a small symbol of a hand on it, and exhaled in relief as the sound of clapping filled the room.

  ‘Hey, I need one of those,’ said her father. ‘I can press it when I need your attention, Barb.’ He chuckled.

  ‘Does it have a “not now I’m busy” button, Em?’ her mother asked.

  Emma smiled. She looked at Jackson and gave him the machine. He had dropped Owly and now his eyes were fixed on the red device. He pressed the laughter button, then squealed, this time in a happy way.

  ‘All fixed! Yay!’ Emma clapped and picked up Owly.

  Jackson then went through what seemed like every sound on the machine, testing if they worked. Applause, laughing, bouncy spring, cash register ka-ching!, game show sounds, drum roll, wolf-whistle, big idea ping. Emma watched him and noticed he avoided a few buttons; one had a picture of a face with something coming out of the mouth. A burp, just lovely. No wonder he didn’t want to press that one. And a screaming face, and a broken wine glass. But all the others he kept pressing, laughing and squealing as a cacophony of random sounds filled the room, and both Emma and Barbara ended up in fits of laughter.

  ‘Okay, now I will definitely have to get one for myself if it keeps my two favourite ladies so happy,’ said Don.

  ‘I’ll ask James where he got it,’ Emma said, then remembered they had still not yet resolved their situation, and of course, where he purchased Jackson’s Sound Machine would be the last thing on his mind right now.

  She wondered how Lizzie was and if her baby had been delivered yet. An emergency caesarean wouldn’t take as long as other surgeries. But as for Lizzie, she had no idea what s
ort of treatment was needed for her.

  ‘Any word yet?’ Barbara asked, as though reading her mind.

  Emma shook her head. ‘Only that she’s in theatre.’

  ‘Let me know when you hear.’

  ‘I will.’

  ‘Can I put my movie back on now?’ Don asked.

  ‘Don, I think Jackson is the priority right now,’ said his wife.

  ‘It’s okay, I’ll take him back now and get him ready for bed. Thanks for the batteries, you saved the day, Mum.’ Emma hugged her mother.

  ‘I was the one who knew they were on top of the fridge,’ said Don.

  Emma rolled her eyes, but went to her dad and gave him a hug and a kiss. ‘Thanks, Dad. You saved the day too.’

  ‘Just call me SuperDad.’ He pointed his good fist in the air like he was flying, and Emma realised what a good sign it was that her dad’s sense of humour was strong. He may be a bit too honest and direct sometimes, but if he had a smile on his face, the other stuff didn’t matter. He seemed to be coming to terms with his situation more, and for that she was glad.

  ‘C’mon Jackson, time to put Owly to bed?’ She put her hands together and against the side of her face, thinking it was probably a good way to show him that it was bedtime.

  Instead of going towards her, he ran to every room in the house and pressed the bouncy spring sound in each one. Emma decided to wait. Eventually he came to the front door and grunted and pointed.

  Thankfully, she didn’t have to carry him back, he held her hand as they walked, Jackson’s eyes wide and looking around as though he had never walked at night before.

  When they got inside she turned on the bath taps, and when she came out Jackson had put Owly in his bed, patting him. Her heart softened and an emotion she wasn’t prepared for bubbled up. It was indescribable, but she knew that if she never saw this boy again, it would leave a huge hole in her heart. And the same went for the boy’s father.

  She checked her phone to make sure she hadn’t missed any calls or texts during the screaming episode, but there was nothing. She hoped everything was okay.