The January Wish Page 26

  Pouring a hot cup of coffee, Sylvia sat in front of the computer and opened her email program. Instead of following the standard email-checking procedure, she clicked on an email that surprised her: ‘Nancy Dillinger added you as a friend on Facebook’. Smiling, she thought ‘why not?’ and clicked the ‘confirm’ button.

  As Sylvia scanned through the news feed of her fifteen friends, a little depressing considering Nancy’s eight hundred-odd friends, a small chat window popped up in the corner. Hi Sylvia, good to see you here! I noticed you arrived home today, how was your trip?

  Sylvia typed in a reply. Hi Nancy, trip went well, thanks. I have no idea what I’m doing on Facebook, I didn’t even know you could chat live like this!

  I’d be happy to tutor you in social media if you like, I’m quite the expert, Nancy replied.

  Sylvia thought this may be a good way to keep in touch with Grace, although, maybe Grace preferred to use it to communicate with friends, rather than parents. She decided to bring it up casually in conversation next time they spoke.

  Sylvia pursed her lips to the side and tapped her fingernails on the table, then typed: Nancy, how would you like to come over for dinner tonight?

  The cursor on the screen blinked as she waited. Nancy was probably considering her pre-planned routine and reconfiguring an alternate plan. Oh, I don’t want to be a bother. You’ve only just got home.

  I’ve got butter chicken, Sylvia typed.

  What time shall I be there?

  Sylvia smiled and told Nancy to come over at six-thirty. She’d picked up the butter chicken at an Indian restaurant on the way home to reheat for dinner, but there was no need to tell Nancy that.

  When Sylvia heard the grumbling of the postman’s motorbike outside her house on Friday afternoon, she walked out to collect the mail. A couple of bills, a lighting catalogue, and a small parcel had been delivered. She filed the bills away, tossed the catalogue into the recycling bin, and opened the parcel. It was The Woman in White, the book she’d lent to Grace when they’d first met at the start of the year. A post-it note was attached. ‘Sorry, I forgot to give this back to you! I loved the book, thanks. Grace.’ A card was also enclosed, with a photo of a child’s hand being held by an adult’s hand on the front. Sylvia opened the card and read the handwritten words:

  Dear Sylvia,

  I just wanted to send you a little note to say thanks. Thank you, not only for welcoming me into your life this year, but for giving me life in the first place. Although I have faced many challenges in my eighteen years, I wouldn’t change a thing. Not even the cancer. Everything has led me to where I am now, and I am so excited about my life and what the future holds.

  Although I can’t imagine not having had my adoptive parents in my life, I just know that you would have been a great mother, no matter how young you were. And I want you to know that I am one hundred percent at peace with the decision you made, because thanks to you, I am the lucky one. I got to have more than two parents. I was blessed with a loving upbringing, and have many cherished memories of my childhood.

  Deciding to find you, and having you accept me into your life, has been the best experience of my life, and I am also incredibly thankful for the musical gift you passed onto me. I’m going to follow my passion with all my heart and soul and do my best to have a successful career.

  Keep being you, because you are my inspiration.

  Love Grace xoxo

  By the time Sylvia had finished reading, silent tears streamed down her face, and she had to sit down to stop the emotion taking her legs from under her. She read the card again, and again. Those words meant so much to her, and she finally knew, after eighteen years, that she did the right thing. Grace was destined to be a part of David and Maria Forrester’s life—she’d given them the greatest gift of all, a child to call their own. And she’d given Grace the gift of two parents who loved her.

  Sylvia waited…waited for the rebounding guilt to surface as it usually did. But it didn’t come. She felt as though she’d rid herself of a chronic condition, and was feeling the relief of wellbeing for the first time in a long while.

  Maybe there was some sort of magic in the Wishing Fountain after all. Whatever it was, however it happened, by making a wish that day she’d somehow triggered a series of events that had given her the gift of a new kind of life. A life where the past was simply a memory and not a burden. A life where she could be her authentic self without fear or guilt. A life, that like Grace, she was excited about. And just as she’d been given a second chance with Grace, if she were to be given a second chance at bringing another child into this world, she knew without a doubt that she deserved it and that she’d be a damn good mother.

  As she put Grace’s card on display on top of her bookcase, Sylvia’s phone beeped. It was a text message.

  Can we talk? If you’re free, meet me at Cafe Lagoon at 4pm. Mark.

  So he was back. Sylvia had almost managed to keep him out of her mind during the past week or so, what with everything going on between her and Grace in Melbourne, but now, she longed to see him. They’d turned a corner last time they were together, but his need to get away was a sign that he hadn’t yet been ready to get involved in a relationship. Whether his brief time away had changed anything she wasn’t sure, but at least he was ready to talk, whatever the outcome would be.

  At a quarter to four, Sylvia checked her appearance in the mirror, and walked down the road towards the main street, and towards the charming, funny, unpredictable and irritating man she was somehow falling in love with.

  Chapter 38

  When Sylvia crossed the road and stepped onto the footpath she almost collided with a woman pushing a large pram. ‘Samantha!’

  ‘Hi, Dr Greene!’ Samantha Roseford stopped and smiled, though she kept swaying the pram back and forth.

  ‘I see your little munchkins have come into the world, they’re gorgeous! How are they?’ Sylvia asked.

  ‘Yes, they’re finally here. I only got out of hospital two days ago, and they’re happiest when they’re moving, so I’m getting lots of exercise walking with them, or waddling more like it!’ Samantha said. ‘I ended up having a natural birth, I can’t believe it. When Scarlett came out it was such a relief, but then I had to keep pushing, and Sophia soon followed. Sophia’s a little smaller, but they’ve both been given a clean bill of health.’

  ‘Two girls? How lovely!’ Sylvia hadn’t been able to tell. They were both dressed in white, with tiny white beanies on their heads, and each wrapped in a thick grey blanket.

  ‘I know. But I reckon they’ll send me bankrupt. If they have my genes, they’ll be shopaholics by the time they’re five.’

  Sylvia laughed. ‘And how are you going with it all?’

  Samantha exhaled. ‘I’m exhausted, but loving it. I can’t believe how time consuming two little people can be though. I keep trying to tackle my To Do List, but it just gets away from me!’

  ‘Yeah, tackling doesn’t always work. I prefer to tie mine up and force it into submission,’ Sylvia replied.

  Samantha laughed. ‘I’ll have to give that a try. Something tells me I’ll need to sort out a consistent routine if I’m to get anything else done around the house.’

  ‘But just remember, the most important thing, apart from looking after your babies, is to look after yourself. Don’t try to be Supermum. Take any offer of help, and don’t forget to call me at the clinic if there’s anything concerning you.’

  ‘I will Dr Greene, thanks.’

  Sylvia looked at Scarlett and Sophia’s tiny faces and realised how amazing life was. How one baby, let alone two, could live and grow inside another human being was truly remarkable. Medical science had an explanation for everything, but no words could describe the wonderment that was human reproduction, and how each new little person brought their own unique personalities to the world.

  As Sylvia watched Samantha cross the road using all her effort to walk and push the double pram, she realised tha
t not only was Samantha’s motherhood just beginning, hers was too.

  Mark stood from behind the table near the window when Sylvia walked into Café Lagoon, and greeted Sylvia with a hug. ‘What would you like, a coffee?’ he asked, heading to the counter to place their order.

  Sylvia was about to say ‘yes’, but changed her mind. ‘Actually, I’ll have a dandelion chai.’

  Soft arcs formed in Mark’s coffee-coloured cheeks as he smiled. He ordered two dandelion chai’s, and two slices of hummingbird cake. ‘I hope you’re hungry,’ he said as he sat down at the table.

  ‘Starved,’ she replied, resting her elbows on the table and clasping her hands together.

  Their order was set down on the table by a waiter Sylvia hadn’t seen before. He’d probably been hired to replace Jonah, she thought. ‘Mmm, this is good,’ Sylvia said, sipping her drink. ‘I think I may have found myself a new addiction.’

  ‘It’s better for you than coffee. Although not many cafés serve it. Café Lagoon is one of a kind,’ Mark said, sipping his drink too.

  As they devoured their drinks and cake, Sylvia talked about her trip to Melbourne with Grace, and how she’d be returning in November for an audition. Mark told Sylvia how his four day nonstop writing binge had produced a complete first draft of his health book for athletes. Sylvia offered to read it and cast her perfectionist’s eye over the draft to edit any mistakes and provide constructive feedback. Mark looked suitably terrified, but agreed anyway.

  When they’d both eaten their final mouthful of cake and emptied their mugs of the remaining tea, Mark took Sylvia’s hands in his. ‘I’m sorry I’ve messed you around this year. As you know, I’ve had a few issues to deal with.’

  Sylvia’s hands melted at his touch, and she tingled all over as his thumbs stroked the back of her hands. ‘You’re forgiven. And I hope you’ll forgive me for my occasional…irrational outbursts,’ she replied.

  ‘Occasional?’

  ‘Okay, frequent. But you forgive me, right?’

  ‘I forgive you.’

  ‘And have you…dealt with those issues?’ Sylvia asked tentatively.

  ‘I won’t lie, Cindy’s memory will always be a part of me, but I no longer have any regrets. I know that what happened was meant to happen, and it wasn’t my fault. The infection was rapid and aggressive, and even if I’d got her to the hospital earlier, there’s no guarantee she would have survived.’ Mark looked down at their entwined hands, then into Sylvia’s eyes. ‘I’ve said my goodbyes, I’ve made peace with what happened, and now I’m ready to move on. For real this time.’

  Mark’s eyes spoke the truth. They didn’t hold sadness anymore, only hope. And his hands told her what she wanted to hear. That he wanted to be with her. And he was ready to give their relationship a go.

  ‘I’m glad,’ Sylvia whispered.

  After a moment, a curious curve crawled up the side of Mark’s mouth. ‘You know, we never did finish that game of scrabble, the night of the blackout.’

  ‘You’re right, we didn’t.’ Sylvia thought back to the inconvenient return of electricity just as he’d been about to kiss her.

  ‘How about we play it tonight, at my place this time?’ Mark asked.

  Sylvia had never been to Mark’s house; he’d never invited her over until now. ‘Will it be candlelit scrabble?’ she asked with a glint of charm in her eye.

  ‘That can be arranged. I’ll even switch off the mains power if that helps make it more authentic.’

  ‘Nah, then we can’t have a warm cuppa.’

  ‘True.’ Mark nodded.

  Sylvia crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair. ‘If we’re going to play, I think we should mix up the rules a bit this time. That bonus fifty points gave you an unfair advantage.’

  ‘You’re just a sore loser.’ Mark grinned.

  ‘Am not.’

  ‘Are too.’ Mark’s grin widened as he leaned over the table. ‘Okay, maybe there should be a price to pay for getting a bonus. How about, for every triple word score, or triple letter score, we have to remove an item of clothing?’

  A jolt surged through Sylvia’s body. ‘You mean, strip scrabble?’

  ‘Shhh,’ Mark said as a couple of people looked their way. So much for maintaining a strictly professional image in public at all times. ‘Yes, that’s exactly what I mean.’

  ‘In that case, you better leave the mains power on, we’ll need the heater.’

  ‘Oh, I don’t think we’ll have any problem generating heat tonight.’ Mark winked.

  Three hours later they were playing scrabble by candlelight on Mark’s living room floor. They didn’t manage to finish that game either.

  Chapter 39

  The Following January

  ‘C’mon, let’s line up at the Wishing Fountain.’ Mark tugged at Sylvia’s hand.

  ‘Nah, I don’t need to make a wish.’

  ‘You don’t?’

  Sylvia shook her head. ‘You go ahead though.’

  ‘I will,’ he said, walking over to the line.

  ‘Be careful what you wish for, Mark,’ Sylvia called out. ‘It just might come true.’

  ‘That’s what I’m hoping!’ he called back, holding up a pair of crossed fingers.

  Sylvia smiled as she waited under the cool shelter of a tree, watching the people in line anxiously waiting their turn while the summer sun burned above them. She wondered what each would be wishing for. Recovery from an illness perhaps, a secure financial future, or to find the love of their life, who knew? What she did know, however, was that their wish coming true was certainly possible. Anything was possible. Life was always changing, and Sylvia’s life had changed into something more amazing and magical than she could ever have imagined. Nineteen years ago she’d given birth to a beautiful baby girl who’d grown up into a beautiful young woman. Now, it was like she was giving birth to a new life of her own, filled with peace, happiness, and excitement. Peace with the past, happiness with the present, and excitement for the future.

  After tossing a coin into the fountain and walking around it three times, Mark strutted over to Sylvia with a proud expression on his face. ‘I think I’d like to find out now if my wish is going to come true.’

  ‘How do you plan on doing that?’

  Mark didn’t answer. He bent one knee to the ground, and looking up at Sylvia, produced a black velvet box from his pocket. He flicked it open, and a single diamond glinted in the afternoon sunlight. ‘Will you marry me, Sylvia Greene?’

  Sylvia’s heart skipped a beat. She knelt on the ground and met Mark’s eyes. ‘You know I will,’ she whispered, accepting the ring as he slid it on her finger and engulfing him with her arms.

  She could have made another wish, done her bit for charity as she’d done last January. She could have wished for a year off to travel to exotic countries, or a three million dollar mansion with a housekeeper and personal chef. But right now, Sylvia was exactly where she wished to be.

  Epilogue

  Eleven months later

  Sylvia and Mark shuffled sideways into their allocated seats in the auditorium, next to David Forrester and Sylvia’s parents. They were in the fourth row and had a perfect view of the stage. The Conservatorium of Music’s end-of-year student showcase was sure to be a treat. Sylvia’s nerves tickled with anticipation.

  Being the first performer for the night, Grace must have a thousand butterflies in her stomach by now, Sylvia thought. She too could feel them. Only they weren’t butterflies. Quickly, she grabbed Mark’s hand and placed it on the small mound of her belly. ‘Can you feel it?’

  Her husband sat still as he waited for the subtle rippling sensation. When it came, an expression Sylvia had never seen before graced his face. Love lit up his eyes, but a different kind of love. A fatherly love. While Sylvia had been experiencing firsthand the indescribable sensation of her baby growing inside her, this was his first encounter with their unborn child.

  ‘Wow!’ Mark said, as Sylvia’s mother re
ached over in an effort to join the party. ‘She might grow up to be dancer,’ he suggested.

  ‘She?’ Sylvia raised an eyebrow.

  ‘Or he. I’d have no problem with my son being a dancer either,’ Mark said, smiling.

  They didn’t yet know whether the baby was a boy or girl, and Sylvia didn’t mind either way. All that mattered was that early next year she’d be taking this little angel home with her. And Mark would be right by her side.

  ‘What’s the name of Grace’s composition?’ Sylvia’s father asked as the lights dimmed and his eyes strained to read the program. ‘I forgot to bring my glasses.’

  ‘A New Beginning,’ Sylvia said proudly, just as the curtains slid open and a spotlight illuminated Grace’s red curls, while a sweet melody danced joyously throughout the auditorium and sparkled like the stars in the sky.

  THE END

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