Chapter 4
Chapter Four
Cabarita Beach
The next day, Nyreeda Houston sat alone in her large beachfront house in Kingscliff.
Tall bay windows looked out over the sparkling and crystal-clear waters of Cudgeon Creek and beyond to the Pacific Ocean.
The house perched on top of Kingscliff Hill, with an uninterrupted vista that was best seen from the back deck.
The sky was cerulean, with no trace of clouds to mar the depth of blue painted across the heavens.
A light breeze ruffled the chartreuse leaves of the enormous jacaranda that presided majestically beside the deck.
Reeda sat on her couch watching it all with a mug of coffee between her hands.
It felt so strange to be an auntie. She’d spent a little time at the hospital with Kate and Alex the previous day.
As she held baby Noah in her arms, she’d felt a love she’d never experienced before, and it’d made her throat ache with unshed tears of joy.
There was a fierceness to her love that she couldn’t explain, she’d do anything for him—protect him, take care of him, and always have a place in her life and heart for him.
And the ache only grew when she realised she may never have that for herself, a child of her own.
But now she had a nephew, and maybe that would be enough.
On the table in front of her were an empty photo album and a stack of envelopes filled with photos of her trip to Italy that she’d had developed.
She set the coffee cup down and leaned forward to peruse through the photos.
Every image contained a memory—Rome and the Colosseum.
The Spanish Steps and the Vatican. The hotel where she’d stayed, and the delicious food she’d eaten. Lorenzo and his motorised scooter.
She picked up a photograph of Lorenzo. His brown eyes squinted against the sunshine, his full lips pulled into a wide smile as he stood beside the scooter.
They’d travelled to Sulmona together to search for the cold trail her grandfather, Charlie Jackson, had left behind when his plane was shot down during the Second World War.
With the photo album open, she pushed photographs across the table, arranging them in order of date and location.
Then she began to place them into the slots in the album one by one.
An image stood out to her—in it, she wore a black apron around her waist, her hair flowed freely with soft, wispy curls, and she glowed with a tan.
On the stove, she mixed something with a wooden spoon in a large pot.
Beside her, Signora Rossi offered a solemn expression in her black dress and sensible shoes.
Her daughter Angela wore a soft cotton floral dress, her long brown hair flung over one shoulder and a grin lighting up her pretty face.
Reeda held the photograph in one hand and leaned back on the couch to study it, a smile playing across her lips.
She remembered this moment like it was yesterday—it’d been a turning point for her, staying with these women in Pacentro.
She’d found herself, her peace, her joy, the meaning she’d been looking for while at their small bed-and-breakfast. She’d walked the hills, eaten good Italian food and talked together with both of them on the back deck into the wee hours.
After she left Italy, Lorenzo had asked Angela on a date, and the two of them were getting married soon.
They’d invited Reeda to the wedding, but she’d declined.
She wanted to be here for Kate, but she was happy for the two of them.
They’d both been broken-hearted and alone, but now they had one another.
And Reeda had played a small role in bringing them together.
By the time she’d filled the pages of the photo album completely, she heard the garage door whir up.
The growl of Duncan’s Porsche pulling into the garage made her heart leap in her chest. He’d been away for two weeks, working with Médecins Sans Frontières in Sierra Leone.
The civil war there had produced so many casualties, they couldn’t keep up with the demand for doctors.
And even though she knew her husband was helping people, she couldn’t help worrying about him while he was gone.
She jumped to her feet and ran to meet him at the door, stopping at a mirror in the hallway to adjust her flyaway hair. She’d straightened it that morning, and it hung in a long, sleek bob around her pale face. She smoothed it down and then hurried to meet him.
When he opened the door that led to the garage, tugging his luggage behind him, she launched herself at him, flinging her arms around his neck and almost knocking him off his feet.
He guffawed and dropped the suitcase to embrace her, his chestnut curls tickling her cheek.
“You’re home,” she said.
He kissed her softly. “I made it, finally. It was a long trip. Two busses and four flights. I’ve been travelling for four days straight. I need a shower, badly. I’ve never been so happy to be home.”
She kissed him all over his face, cupping his cheeks with her hands. “I was so worried about you.”
“Well, I’m back now. And I won’t be going anywhere for a while. It’s become too dangerous where we were, and they’ve pulled out all the medical staff. At least for now.”
Reeda hated to think of Duncan in danger, but he was back, and that was all that mattered. She followed him into the bedroom, where he sat to take off his shoes.
“Kate had her baby. A little boy. They called him Noah Alexander.”
His eyes lit up. “That’s great news. How is she?”
“She’s well. They’re still in the hospital, but they’ll be home later today. She gave birth at the inn. Mima helped.”
“Mima would’ve been in her element.”
Reeda sat beside him on the blanket box at the foot of their bed. “I’ve been thinking…”
He looked up at her with an arched eyebrow. “Uh-oh.”
She pressed her lips together, waiting a moment before speaking again. “A few months ago, I started the process to become foster parents. We talked about it…”
He straightened. “Once. We spoke about it once, Reeda.”
“I know, and I didn’t go through with it. The paperwork is started but now you’ve got to get involved — they want to interview us, do a background check and inspect the house.”
“I don’t know, Reeda. We’ve only recently got back on track with our marriage, and we’ve come to terms with not being able to have a baby. This might derail us all over again. I don’t want to risk that.”
“But you want children, don’t you?”
He padded into the walk-in wardrobe and got undressed, tossing his soiled outfit into the clothes basket. “I do want children, but we haven’t spoken of it since that one conversation after we got home from Italy.”
“Well, let’s discuss it now. What are your objections?”
“Like I said, I’m worried about our relationship.” He stood before her in his boxer shorts, his hair mussed, sunburned and with dust coating his face, arms, legs and in a V-shape on his neck where his shirt had been.
“That’s a valid point. But at least with fostering, it’s temporary. So, if we have foster children and it doesn’t work out, we can tell the agency, and they’ll move them somewhere else.”
He pressed his hands to his hips and looked her in the eye. “There’s no way we’d be able to do that. I know you too well… you’d never give them up voluntarily.”
“I don’t know if I would.” She shrugged. “But I really want to try this.”
“I need time to think,” he said. “And I have to shower. I really stink.”
“Take a shower, and I’ll book a restaurant for dinner. I’m sure you’re starving.”
“I’m beyond the point of starvation. Now I feel sick. I’ve had whatever I could scavenge for four days, mostly from airports and aeroplane galleys. I ate an entire pack of peppermints and now my mouth tastes like toothpaste.”
“I’m sorry, honey. Have your shower and I’ll make you a snack to take with us to the restaurant. We can talk more about fostering when we get there and you’ve eaten something to line your stomach.”
He smirked. “I can hardly wait.”
Once Duncan was freshly showered and dressed in shorts, a buttoned shirt and sandals, he and Reeda drove into downtown Kingscliff to eat at the Kingy.
Duncan parked his Porsche outside on the street, and they walked hand in hand into the restaurant.
It was a double-story white building with black trim, and blue lettering over the entrance that read Kingscliff Beach Hotel.
They sat at a table as far away from the live band as they could manage. Reeda wanted to talk, and the music was loud. It was a rock band with an electric guitar—they were good, but there was no way Reeda and Duncan could hold a conversation if they sat too close.
Darkness was falling, and the air outside was cloyingly humid.
The hotel filled up rapidly as the band played, with children dancing closer to the band in whatever space they could find.
Families, couples, and singles all found tables or sat at the bar, and everyone talked together in raised voices or sat and listened to the music, feet tapping beneath their tables.
“We haven’t been here in ages,” Duncan commented after a waitress took their order.
“Sometimes I miss the Sydney restaurant scene and nightlife,” Reeda replied. “But there’s something fun about beachside living. People are more relaxed.”
“And everything shuts down much earlier.”
“That too.”
They chatted for a while about Duncan’s time in Sierra Leone, although he didn’t say a lot. Reeda knew he’d need time to process what he’d seen and experienced before he’d want to go into detail. She was used to giving him the space to do that now after three similar trips.
The waitress brought their battered cod with chips and two Heinekens to the table.
Reeda took a bite of fish, then stopped to squeeze lemon juice over the rest of it. “Lorenzo and Angela are getting married next week.”
“That happened fast, although I have to admit, I’m relieved you didn’t run off with him instead.” Duncan looked at her with a wry smile.
Her cheeks flushed. “You know I wouldn’t do that. Besides, he’s too young for me.”
“I’m only teasing. I’m glad they found each other.”
“They’re talking about coming to visit us. Would you be okay with that?”
“Of course,” he replied. “We have so much space, I’d love someone to use it.”
“Great—I’ll let them know. I’m really looking forward to seeing them again. They both took such good care of me while I was in Italy. I owe them a lot.”
“Well, in that case, I’ll welcome them with open arms.” He ate a forkful of chips, the downed them with a mouthful of beer. “Not to change the subject, but we can talk about the fostering situation now if you’d like. I’m feeling much better.”
She stopped eating and wiped her hands on a napkin. “Yes, I’d really like to do that, if you’re ready.”
“I’m ready. And I’ve had a few minutes to think it through. We should do it.” He reached for a hot chip and dunked it in tomato sauce.
“Really? Just like that?”
He nodded. “Yeah. You took me by surprise before, but all the way here, I was asking myself what I was so afraid of. And the truth is, I’m scared, but that’s not a good reason to keep from doing something good.
I spend so much of my time and energy helping people in far-off countries these days, this is a way for me to help someone close to home.
To actually make a real difference in another person’s life. It’s a good idea.”
Emotion welled up Reeda’s throat. She couldn’t speak. Instead, through a veil of tears she reached out to squeeze his hand.
“I don’t know if I’m cut out to be a father, but I’ll try my best. And I know you’ll be a wonderful mother.”
“You’ll be great,” she said, her voice wobbling. “I know we can do this.”
He leaned over to kiss her on the head. “Yes, we can. It’ll be great. Let’s do it.”