This was their second trip to the airport for the week. Her grandparents had arrived on Monday, flying in easy stages from London for her grandmother’s benefit. No one had been more surprised than Elizabeth when they announced they were coming to visit. She and Nate had already planned to fly to London for their wedding, but her grandparents’ announcement had led to a hurried reorganizing of events, the upshot of which was that two weeks from now, she and Nate would walk down the aisle at a beautiful Gothic revival church in Albert Park with both her grandparents and her father in attendance.
She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t worried about how her grandparents and Sam would cope with coming face-to-face after so many years and so many mistakes on both sides. But Sam was a part of her life now whether her grandparents liked it or not so they were going to have to work things out between them.
“Remind me again how long we’re going to have all these houseguests?” Nate said.
“Grandmama and Grandpa for three weeks. Violet for four.”
He pulled a face. “That seems like a pretty long time.”
She knew what he was thinking about—having her grandparents in residence definitely put a damper on their sex life.
“We could always sneak away for a weekend. Go down to the island.”
His eyes lit up. “Keep talking.”
“We could hole up in the studio and not come out all weekend,” she said.
Nate lowered his head to whisper in her ear. “And then?”
She lowered her own voice and turned to face him, looping her arms loosely around his neck. “Then you could help me grade all the papers for Year Nine English.”
“Hmm. Not quite what I had in mind.”
He was smiling and she reached up to smooth his hair.
“Let me think about it. See if I can come up with a little something else,” she said.
“You do that.”
His phone rang and she let her arms drop so he could move away to take it. She could tell by the way his gaze grew distant that it was a business call. He’d started back at Smartsell four months ago, working part-time at first and gradually increasing his hours until he was fully back into the swing of things. To say that Jarvie was happy was an understatement. He was like an overly affectionate dog when he was around Nate, hugely grateful to have his old friend back on deck.
It hadn’t all been smooth sailing. Nate had had trouble sleeping again when he returned to his therapist, the therapy stirring up difficult memories. There had been bouts of withdrawal and bad temper, too, in the early days. He’d become so used to being on his own, to keeping his own counsel. But they had both persevered, and things had slowly shifted. He was still uncomfortable with night driving—he made himself do it, but she was always aware that it was an effort, a sort of trial-by-endurance that he made himself face. She knew he was still prone to the occasional anxiety attack, but they were getting better, too.
And last month, they’d cleaned out Olivia’s room. It had been heartbreaking, packing away the remnants of a life that had barely started. It had been Nate’s decision, reached in his own time. Elizabeth had kept aside a few things—some soft toys, some cushions Olivia had sewn, a handful of well-thumbed children’s books. One day, when she and Nate had children, she wanted them to have a connection to their aunt. “Lizzy.”
Elizabeth started out of her introspection to glance at Nate.
“Is it just me, or is that what’s-his-name?” he asked as he pocketed his phone.
She followed his sight line and blinked.
What on earth was Martin doing here? Then a familiar redhead appeared over his shoulder. Martin and Violet.
Together?
It was such an absurd idea she laughed. It must be a coincidence.
Then Violet looked up and caught Elizabeth’s eye, and the guilt and defiance and hope in her friend’s face made Elizabeth press her fingers to her lips with shock.
“Let me guess—that’s Violet?” Nate said close to her ear.
“Yes. But they hate each other, Nate. They used to fight like cat and dog. She used to call him Droopy Drawers and he could barely say her name without sneering.”
Nate shrugged. “Stranger things have happened, Lizzy.”
She met his eyes. There was so much love and understanding there that she couldn’t help but smile.
“Yes, they have, haven’t they?” Their hands found each other, fingers weaving together.
Thank God he’d forgiven himself. Thank God he’d given them a chance.
“Come on,” he said. “Let’s go hear their story.”
HOT ISLAND NIGHTS
Copyright © 2010 by Small Cow Productions Pty Ltd.
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