Emergency Response (21 page)

Her parents had met in early January and married less than six weeks later. To this day Mackenzie had no idea how they’d managed to get married so fast, but her mum had always told her things were different back then. As if “those days” were so long ago. Mackenzie knew her mum was pregnant on her wedding day – her mum had never hidden that from her – but Mackenzie had never questioned it. She imagined a shot-gun wedding wasn’t that unusual, especially in a country town. Her parents had always been so in love and Mackenzie had never felt as though they’d only married to save face or anything old-fashioned like that. After all, it was the 1980s, not the 1950s.

She counted on her fingers. They married in February and she was born in September of the same year. Mackenzie was always told she’d arrived early, so the dates fitted. She looked back over the letters and sorted them into date order, fanning them out in front of her on the carpet. She was right, there was one letter written by her mum to her father on every anniversary. There was an extra letter – one written on the day of their actual wedding.

After the warmth of the day, a cold front had come through and there was a coolness to the air. Back in the lounge room, Mackenzie flicked on the gas heater, wrinkling her nose at the smell of dust as the elements heated up. Tucking her legs beneath her, she sat on the floor, enjoying the instant warmth. As she began to read, she blushed at some of her mum’s words – declarations of love for her father – but it wasn’t until the final paragraph that it hit her, filling her with a dizzying sense of foreboding. She read the words again more slowly, letting them sink in.

“…
in a few short hours I will walk down the aisle and become Mrs. Alison Jones. Thank you William for loving me and my unborn child. When the time is right and the baby is old enough, we must tell it the truth. Please promise me if anything ever happens to me, my child will always know your love.”

She wasn’t his child!

The incessant yapping of a dog woke Mackenzie the next morning. Prizing her eyelids open, it took her a second or two to register where she was. Willandara. She rolled over and snuggled deeper under the covers, dragging the feather comforter tighter around her neck.

Her mind was still reeling over the contents of the letters. The revelation had hit hard and it had taken hours to fall asleep. She had then tossed and turned all night, her mind burning with unanswered questions. What should she do? If she was reading all of this correctly, their parents had kept a massive secret for thirty-six years. Should she tell her sisters what she’d just found out? Should she go and confront her father? Should she ask him if it was true? Or should she just sweep everything back under the rug where it had sat for so long?

She willed herself back to sleep, but after a few minutes she realized it wasn’t going to work. Throwing back the covers and swinging her legs over the side of the bed, she stretched and yawned. She had a busy day ahead.

After a quick shower, she rummaged through her suitcase and found a pair of black jeans and a T-shirt – there wasn’t much point getting dressed up to head into town – and traipsed to the kitchen to find something to eat. An hour later she climbed into her car and headed down the street to the Willandara and District Nursing Home.

In eighteen years there were many changes in town and the well-appointed aged care facility was one of them. Mackenzie expected to find a ghost town and was astonished to find it alive and seemingly thriving. She drove slowly around town and noticed the new play equipment at the school and the number of newly renovated homes. Trampolines and swing sets sat in more than a few backyards. Had a whole new generation of young families moved in?

In the main street only a few vacant shops remained and one of these had a large “leased” sticker plastered across the window. Even the corner pub was in the throes of a major renovation. A sign out the front advised it would re-open for Christmas. She stared through the windows of one café and saw it was bursting with people and full of shelves stocked with what appeared to be homemade produce. The resurgence of the town had Mackenzie baffled.

Now, as she followed Sue, the director of the nursing home, through the reception area and down an empty corridor, Mackenzie wondered how many of the elderly residents she would remember, and if any of them would recognize her. She also wondered how she was going to tell her father he was destined for such a place. Would he put up a fight?

They stopped at a heavy door and Sue inserted a key into the lock. Did they lock the door to keep the residents in or out? Sue led Mackenzie along another wide hallway with doors coming off it on either side. Through open doors she saw small, basic bedrooms. The hallway opened into a large common area and several elderly people sat alone, slumped in their chairs. A television blared from the corner of the room, a man’s irritating voice advertising some sort of robot vacuum cleaner. Heads lolled and one man was strapped in place with a harness to stop him from falling out. He eyed her myopically. Mackenzie’s heart constricted. As difficult as her relationship with her father was, there was no way she could leave him in a place like this.

*

Five o’clock that afternoon Mackenzie stopped and surveyed her handiwork, satisfied with everything she’d achieved. After her visit to the nursing home she spent the rest of the day working in the garden. She pruned the roses and vines and dug all the weeds out of the small front yard. The green recycling bin was overflowing when she finished and she still had lots more to do.

Now I have a blank canvas on which to start again
. The thought stunned her. Where had it come from? She shook her head. There was no way she was staying long enough to plant a new garden and watch it grow.

That night, after she’d taken a long bath and eaten a toasted sandwich for dinner, Mackenzie called Kate and filled her in on her father’s stroke, her stay in Dubbo and now her trip back to the family home. She decided not to mention the letters.

Mackenzie desperately wanted to ask how Nathan was doing, but knew if she did, Kate would have lots of questions and Mackenzie didn’t have any answers. She hadn’t spoken to him in days, but the truth was, she missed him dreadfully and was regretting the finality of her decision to walk out of his life. Maybe she should have given a long-distance relationship a chance.

“So, how are
you
feeling?” Mackenzie asked, trying to get her mind off Nathan.

“I’m okay. I’ve been back in hospital again though. I still can’t keep anything down.”

Mackenzie felt a flutter of worry deep in her gut. “And the baby?”

“The baby is still fine. Small, but growing, despite the fact I’m still not gaining much weight. No one seems at all concerned. They want me to get to thirty-six weeks. If I’m still throwing up then, they’ll induce me and get this little one out.”

“How far are you now?” Mackenzie asked.

“Well over the halfway mark.”

“I’m sure it will fly from here.”

“I hope so,” Kate agreed. “So, what are you going to do about your dad? What’s the plan?”

Mackenzie sighed heavily. “He’s got at least three or four more weeks in rehab, which takes us up to Christmas, but they don’t think he’ll be able to go back home. I went to a nursing home today for a look around, but honestly, Kate, I don’t think I can do it. I can’t put him there.”

Mackenzie stood and moved to the window, staring through the dirty glass outside to the now tidy front garden. Cleaning the windows could be tomorrow’s job.

“That bad?” Kate asked.

“It took me back to all those dreaded university placements. I hated nursing homes then, and I’m sure they’ve only gotten worse.”

“Maybe it was that particular facility. It might be worth looking at others.”

“Maybe,” Mackenzie agreed. “But I don’t have many options. This one is the only place nearby, otherwise he’d have to go to somewhere in Dubbo.”

“I’m sure you’ll work something out,” Kate said.

Mackenzie sighed. “Or I’ll have to look after him myself.”

“Is that an option?”

Mackenzie looked around her, at the cluttered lounge room, the tiny bathroom and the outdated kitchen.
No.
Without major modifications to the house, there was no way her father could come back home. She pictured him knocking things over with his walking frame and she shuddered at the idea of having to shower him in the tiny bathroom.

“No, it wouldn’t work.”

“So what will you do?”

Mackenzie sighed. “I have no idea.”

“When are you going back to Dubbo?”

“I haven’t decided.” Mackenzie was putting off the inevitable, knowing she was scared to face her father and confront him about the letters.

There was silence for a while before Kate spoke again.

“Nathan’s been busy here. He’s an absolute godsend to us both. He’s run
the Bean Counter
with Emma and helped Joel on the farm too.”

Mackenzie was relieved Kate had brought up the topic of Nathan. “He’s sent me a few texts.”

“You should call him,” Kate said softly. “He misses you.”

“I don’t want him to get the wrong idea.”

“About what?”

“About us. About the future.”

“So
is
there a future for you two?” Kate asked.

Mackenzie exhaled heavily. “I wish there was, but he’s doing what I asked – giving me space while I work out what to do with Dad. I miss him. A lot. But I can’t do the long-distance thing. It wouldn’t work.” She sighed. “It’s better this way. If we were meant to be together, then things would have worked out differently.”

“Did he tell you about his plans for next year?”

Mackenzie held her breath.
No.

“He’s applying for teaching positions,” Kate said.

“Oh.”

“Locally. Which means he’ll be staying here in Birrangulla. He’s moved in with Mum and Dad for now.”

“I thought your parents lived in Sydney.”

“They did. They have just moved so they could be closer to Joel and me when the baby arrives. Dad got an early redundancy package and they sold the house in Sydney on the first weekend it was on the market. They moved here about a month ago. Wait till you see the house they got in town. It’s gorgeous.”

Mackenzie was pleased for the Kennedy family. It sounded like Nathan and Kate had their lives sorted out. Now she just needed to sort out hers.

The next day Mackenzie woke early, stripped the linen from all the beds, washed three loads and hung everything out on the old Hills hoist clothesline in the backyard. In the hot north wind it was dry almost as soon as she’d hung out the last sheet. She then emptied the contents of the fridge and finally tackled the bathroom and toilet. She was doing everything she could think of to put the letters from her mum out of her mind. And she was delaying the inevitable return to Dubbo.

By the time she had finished, she was ready to stop for lunch. Unfortunately, the pantry was completely bare after she had thrown everything in the rubbish bin. So many things in the cupboard were years past their use-by date and it had been easier to toss everything. She was fast running out of the meager food supplies she had brought with her from Cameron’s house, which meant if she wanted to eat, she had to face a trip down the street to the shops. That also meant facing people she’d so far managed to avoid.

When Mackenzie caught sight of her neighbor heading her way the next morning, tea-towel-wrapped casserole dish in hand, Mackenzie sighed. Her peace was about to be shattered.

Mackenzie remembered Marlene Robbins as being a well-meaning woman, but once she knew Mackenzie was back in town, everyone else would know about it for sure. Marlene wasn’t just deaf, she also had a very loud and recognizable voice. A voice she enjoyed using constantly to share the town’s gossip.

Mackenzie intercepted the woman at the front gate.

“Well, well, well, lookie here. I would have recognized you anywhere, Mack Jones,” Marlene boomed as she got closer.

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Robbins,” Mackenzie greeted her as pleasantly as she could. She hoped her inner scowl wasn’t showing.

“Since you haven’t been into town since you got here, I assume you’re surviving on Vegemite on toast, so I’ve brought you this.” Marlene held up the ceramic casserole dish, which Mackenzie took from her.

“Thank you. I was heading to the shops today.”

“Hmph,” Marlene grunted. “How’s your dad?”

“He’s making some improvements.” Mackenzie was deliberately cagey with her answer although she didn’t know why she bothered as Marlene would go ahead and make up whatever story she wanted to anyway.

“And you? How are you doing? Are you married yet?” Marlene peered down at Mackenzie’s hands.

Mackenzie whipped her clenched fists behind her back. “No, I’m not.”

“Just as well, I suppose. This way you can look after your father. Your mum would have wanted that, God rest her soul.”

Mackenzie bit the inside of her mouth in an attempt to keep quiet. Marlene prattled on while Mackenzie only half listened.

“And of course all your sisters are too busy these days to even come and visit your poor father. I suppose that’s what happens when all your daughters get married and start producing kids. How many has Cameron got now? Seven? Eight? All home schooled too I suppose.” Marlene made a disapproving clicking sound. “And what about Bailey. She’s been married over a year now. Has she popped one out yet?”

Thankfully Marlene didn’t even pause for breath so Mackenzie was able to stay quiet.

“You’ve done a good job of the garden here. I’ve been watching you of course. Alison would turn in her grave if she could see what it had become under your father’s care. That man certainly doesn’t have the green thumb she did. She was such a wonderful woman, your mother.” By now Marlene had managed to inch her way past Mackenzie into the front yard. She squinted at Mackenzie. “All this tidying up and gardening. Does this mean you’re moving back home then? Is the house yours now that your father is—?”

“I’m only cleaning it up, Mrs. Robbins. It’s keeping me busy while we wait for Dad to recover. Thank you for the casserole. I’m sure it will be magnificent. As always.” If there was one thing Mackenzie remembered, it was Marlene’s exceptional cooking skills. Her stomach growled in anticipation. She couldn’t live on toast much longer, that was for sure.

“Oh. So you’re not going to invite me in? We could have a cuppa and catch up.” Marlene’s lined face filled with disappointment. “I’d love to know what you’re up to these days. What does a single woman approaching forty do with her time?”

Mackenzie’s eyes widened and she bit back the rude retort that flew to the tip of her tongue. The woman was incorrigible. Approaching forty? How dare she! Mackenzie wanted to shove the casserole back in Marlene’s hands and slam the door in her face.

She pasted on a smile. “I’m quite busy today so I’m sorry, but I don’t have time to stop and I
do
need to get to the shop and pick up some bread.”

“You know, with your figure you probably shouldn’t eat so much bread.”

Mackenzie bit back another reply.

“I don’t know where you got your figure from,” Marlene continued.

Did the woman not have a filter?

She looked Mackenzie up and down. “All your sisters took after your mother – tall and willowy blondes. Of course last time I saw Riley she was quite heavy, but I suppose she
was
six months pregnant at the time so I’ll forgive her for that. And of course your father is tall too so it’s quite odd that you’re so short.” She appraised Mackenzie again. “You can’t even be much more than five foot.”

Mackenzie stepped backward before she lashed out and said something she would later regret. She’d spent her entire life feeling different from her sisters and even though she now knew the reason why, Marlene’s words hurt.

“I’m told my grandmother was quite short and I apparently take after her,” Mackenzie spoke through gritted teeth. Why was she justifying herself?

“Yes, well if Alison hadn’t fallen pregnant on her wedding night I think we all would have thought they’d picked you up from an adoption agency. Of course I remember when you were born. Such a big baby considering you were so early. Didn’t look like a premmie to me, but what do I know. I’ve never had children. Just as well you came early because your mother never would have been able to push
you
out. Such a tiny thing she was, your mother, God bless her.”

Mackenzie’s heart almost stopped. Did Marlene know the truth?

“When are you going to pick up your dad’s dog?”

Mackenzie stared at the woman in astonishment. Was she mad? “What dog? No one has mentioned anything about a dog.”

“She’s over at the minister’s house. John’s looking after the dog for your dad.”

“Since when has he had a dog?”

The one thing her father had always refused Mackenzie was her wish for a puppy. He thought dogs didn’t belong in suburban blocks such as theirs. Yet now he had a dog? She shook her head in confusion.

“Your dad’s had her for a year or so I think. Not long after Bailey left. I guess he was lonely and wanted the company.”

“What type of dog?” Mackenzie loved most dogs, but wasn’t overly fond of fluffy white yappy things.

“No idea. It’s a dog. A black and white one as far as I remember. Cute little thing. Doesn’t bark much, thank the good lord.”

“How do I get in touch with the minister?”

Marlene’s eyes narrowed into tiny splits. “He lives in the manse right next door to the church. I’m sure you will remember where that is,” she said pointedly. “Although I don’t recall you ever stepping foot through the front doors of a church once in your entire life.”

“We weren’t very religious.”

“Hmph,” Marlene said. “Well, some things have changed.”

Mackenzie raised her eyebrows. What did she mean?

“Don’t worry about the dog. I’ll contact John and make sure he’s happy to hang onto it for a bit longer.”

Marlene flounced off, leaving Mackenzie filled with guilt. Was she doing
anything
right?

Later that night, after Mackenzie had eaten the lamb casserole – which she was loath to admit tasted amazing – she knew she couldn’t put it off any longer. She’d done as much as she could around the house and she needed to head back to Dubbo. It was time to have another meeting with her sisters. They needed to make a decision about the future. And Mackenzie needed to talk to her father about the past. It couldn’t wait any longer.

*

For the next two hours Mackenzie drove on autopilot, her mind revolving like a child’s spinning top. She had so many questions. If her father refused to answer them, she didn’t know what she would do. The closer she got to Dubbo the more wound up she became. Hindsight was such a good thing. If she hadn’t run away all those years ago, she wouldn’t be in this predicament now.

When she arrived at the rehabilitation hospital she barreled down the hallway to her father’s room, her footsteps ringing out in the quiet hallways. She pushed open the door to his room and found him sitting half upright but asleep. The blinds were drawn and the room was semi-dark, but the television was on and the screen glowed, making his face appear ghostly. She’d expected to find at least one of her sisters sitting with him, keeping him company. She looked at her watch and frowned. No wonder no one was there with him – it was almost eleven o’clock.

At the sound of her entry, her father woke, struggling beneath the sheets as he attempted to sit up. She went over and helped prop him up on pillows. His dentures lay in a plastic container beside his bed and she pulled off the lid before handing the container to her father. He pulled the teeth from the water and she had to control her desire to take them from him and put them in his mouth herself. He was so slow and doddering. Eventually, he got his teeth in and gazed at her with a questioning look. So far neither of them had said a word. She muted the television and put the remote control back on the bedside table with a clatter.

“I know it’s late, Dad, but we need to talk.” If she didn’t come right out and ask now, she’d chicken out. “Who is my real father?”

She might have imagined it, but she was certain a shadow passed across his face as he tried to focus on her eyes. He dragged his good hand across his jaw, the silence so heavy she heard the scratching of skin against an overnight beard.

When he didn’t answer, Mackenzie pressed on. “I know it’s not you.”

“Don’t be silly, Mackenzie,” he said, slurring his words ever so slightly, one side of his mouth still turned down – an after-effect of the stroke. “You’ve always had this stupid idea in your head that because you don’t look the same as your sisters, you were adopted or something.” It was the most she’d heard him say since the stroke.

Mackenzie’s pulse thumped. Exactly what she’d grown up thinking, but the letter from her mum suggested otherwise. She needed answers, and she needed them now.

“I want to know the truth,” she said quietly.

Her father let out a loud sigh. His shoulders slumped and he shifted in the bed. Mackenzie stepped from behind the chair she’d used as a barricade and sat down. She took a moment to look at him and experienced a twinge of regret. Now she’d opened this can of worms, there would be no closing of the lid.

“I know you’re not my father,” she repeated.

“Yes I am.”

“You’re not my biological father.”

She saw his Adam’s apple rise and fall.

“How did you find out?”

“I found the letters.” He closed his eyes but Mackenzie continued talking. “I’ve worked it out, haven’t I? Mum was already pregnant when she met you.” He shook his head, as though to disagree, but Mackenzie ignored him. “She was pregnant when you got married – that’s why you had such a fast engagement. But you weren’t my father. That’s right, isn’t it? That’s why I was so big when I was born. I wasn’t a premature baby at all. I was full term. No wonder I don’t look like you or my sisters.” She took a big breath and looked at him again. “All I want to know is
why
?” The last word came out sounding strangled.

Her father exhaled heavily. “Your mother and I made an agreement to never tell you. We told no one. Not even my parents. You were my daughter and I loved you.”

“You never loved me! You could hardly bear the sight of me once Cameron was born.”

Tears pooled in her father’s eyes, hitting Mackenzie with remorse. Knowing the truth, changed nothing. Absolutely nothing. She sank deeper into the chair.

“It wasn’t like that at all, Mack. I loved your mother dearly and I loved you as though you were my own flesh and blood.”

“You sent me away to boarding school!”

“That’s because there was no other option. Willandara doesn’t have a high school.”

“Mum could have home schooled me.”

He sighed. “Yes, she probably could have, but we thought by sending you away we were giving you the best education and the best opportunities.”

“But I missed out on so much. I hardly know my sisters because I only ever saw them during school holidays.”

“I’m sorry, Mackenzie, maybe it wasn’t the right decision after all.”

“So what changed?” she asked.

He frowned. “What do you mean?”

“You said you loved me. But after Mum died it was like you couldn’t stand the sight of me anymore.”

“Oh Mackenzie, after your mum died,
I
changed. Left alone with six daughters to raise, I couldn’t cope without her. I didn’t know how to look after you all.”

“But you blamed me for Mum’s death.”

He looked stunned. “No, Mack, I didn’t blame you.”

“But I heard you. You told me I should have helped save her.”

A tear trailed slowly down his cheek. “Those were bitter words of a desperate man. I’d just lost my wife. My son. And then I lost you too.”

Mackenzie shook her head, struggling for clarity. “But every time I saw you again, it was as though you never wanted to have anything to do with me. Or the others. I saw you at their weddings. You couldn’t wait for them to be married and off your hands. Out of your life.”

“You saw things the way you wanted to see them, Mackenzie. Yes, I wanted you all to be married. Not so you’d be off my hands, but so each of you would find the type of love I found with your mum. I wanted you to be happy. To experience the joy of bringing your own children into the world, just as I had.”

Mackenzie was stunned. Why had she never seen it that way before? Her mouth opened and closed but no words came. She swallowed and moistened her lips with her tongue. Had she gotten things completely wrong all these years?