Chapter 7 #2
‘You’d better come up and meet him, mate. He’s got a boofhead on him, but he’ll be a handsome devil when he grows into it,’ Jeff told him when he called with the good news.
Spencer tucked the bouquet of flowers for Mia under one arm and adjusted his grip on the carry bag with Fred’s gift.
The Bubs R Us shop assistant had seen him coming a mile away, and he’d been happy to take her pricey recommendation in order to be done with the whole shopping experience and get out of that store, with its rows of breast pumps and hordes of happy couples, as quickly as possible.
He stared at the hospital information board. Two words swam into focus, as if they were three times the size of the others and surrounded by neon flashing lights.
Oncology.
Palliative.
The elevator opened and Spencer stepped aside to let an orderly pass with a patient hooked up to breathing apparatus.
He wiped his sweaty hands on his shirt again, nearly dropping the flowers in the process, looking anywhere but at the patient with the wispy hair, too-bright lipstick and sallow complexion.
It was everything Belle had fought to avoid. The elevator returned shortly after and he quickly stepped inside, jabbing at the ‘close door’ button before anyone else could join him.
‘Wait for us!’ He looked up to see Clementine Crossley reaching a hand in between the closing doors.
Her two daughters were right behind her, Indi still carrying the hideous bright-pink stuffed unicorn she’d had in Penwarra yesterday. ‘Anyone would think I’m following you. You’re visiting Jeff and Mia?’
Before Spencer could respond, Indi tugged his hand until he crouched down beside her, and pressed her little face so close that he could see her missing tooth, a smear of what looked like jam on her cheeks and the navy line around her aquamarine irises, just like Clem’s.
‘We’re going to see Reggie and Fred! Are you coming?’
Spencer looked up at Clementine, expecting to see that clucky excitement his sister Addison always got whenever babies were mentioned, but instead her smile was tight.
The lift dinged and the doors reopened, revealing the same busy downstairs foyer, visitors marching in with carry bags, doctors lined up for a caffeine hit at the cafe, and the bustle of a busy hospital pharmacy and information desk.
Had he been too overwhelmed to press the button to go up a floor? It seemed so.
‘It’s like Rundle Mall in here,’ Clem said, studying the labels beside the lift buttons. ‘Onwards and upwards to the maternity ward, right?’
‘Yep, there it is. Level two.’ Spencer pushed up the sleeves of his shirt, suddenly feeling warm.
Unlike the beautiful September day outside, it felt stuffy in here all of a sudden, with people rushing past, patients using walking frames or in wheelchairs, and another being wheeled past in a trolley bed.
He pressed the button, and as the lift jolted upwards, he realised Clem seemed as uncomfortable as he was.
‘Give me sleepy old Penwarra any day,’ he said. ‘I’ve been meaning to drop by your cafe again. Those pink fairy floss donuts are calling my name, and Ian said your winter pot pie was impeccable.’
He watched Clem’s sneakers trace the patterned lino floor. ‘I’m launching the new spring menu next week. Technically, the winter specials should have finished at the end of August, but no one minds if they run a week or two over.’
‘I’ll have to be quick then,’ he said.
‘I’m going to audition for the concert, Mr H,’ Harriet said, leading the way out of the elevator.
For the first time all day, Spencer felt a spark of delight. ‘For the Penwarra Players?’
Harriet nodded.
‘Nice one,’ he said. ‘We’re always looking for more actors.’ He turned his gaze to Clem. ‘You too?’
So far, he’d mostly avoided looking directly at Clem.
It was easier to focus on the cheerful patterns on her scarf or to gaze past her ear, instead of feeling his misfiring brain glitch with false nostalgia at her thick dark hair, sweetheart-shaped face and ocean-coloured eyes, framed by long black lashes.
Like Belle.
But when she didn’t answer, and her daughters dashed ahead to examine a wall filled with photos of babies and new mums, Spencer saw she was frowning at the maternity ward doors. He reached out, brushing her arm gently.
‘You alright?’
He wasn’t sure if she startled at his touch, or at his gift bag as it dangled against her hand, but the movement jolted her into action.
‘Of course,’ she said, squaring her shoulders and marching to the ward like she was facing the gallows.
One quick visit won’t kill you. You’ve timed it perfectly—it’s the end of visiting hours, so you’ve got a built-in escape plan, and now with Spencer coming too, there’s even more reason to keep it brief.
Clem felt Harriet and Indi return to her side, their little hands tucked in hers an extra support.
It was ludicrous to think they could sense her turmoil, or understand how hard it was being reminded of those dark days from her own postnatal journey.
She wouldn’t wish it on anyone, and she was determined not to let her issues haunt her.
She still felt bad about avoiding Hazel and baby Cormac for so many weeks, and while she would have preferred to wait until Mia was at home, instead of in the maternity ward, her friends would definitely suspect something was up if she skipped this visit too.
Plus, now that it was September, she’d be busier than ever rolling out the new menu and getting the van prepped for its maiden voyage next month.
This isn’t about me.
‘Ouch, Mummy, that’s too tight! Harriet said, wrenching her hand from Clem’s and shaking it.
‘Sorry honey,’ she said, giving her an apologetic smile.
If Clem wasn’t so worried about her own impending freakout, she might have been more curious about the gift Spencer had chosen, and whether it was from him alone or from him and Emily, but the hive of activity at the public hospital had her on edge.
Right, we’re here now, and this is about Mia, not me.
Clem spared one more look at Spencer, who was wiping his hands on his soft striped shirt. He nodded, gesturing with his flowers. ‘You go first.’
Clem gave herself a pep talk as Indi dashed along the corridor, hand-in-hand with Harriet, the unicorn plushy dragging along the shiny linoleum floor.
It’s just a maternity ward, and it’s not even like the one Harriet was born in.
As far as hospital wards went, this one was pretty enough.
Colourful paper peony flowers dangled from the ceiling, comfy chairs in the waiting room lent themselves to breastfeeding mothers and tired visitors alike, and there was a gorgeous reading nook that would be perfect for new mothers with older kids.
See, no triggering memories here. But when Clem turned into room 16, with the curtains around three of the beds, she could almost feel her synapses firing.
Breathe. Just ignore it.
‘Clem! What is this?’ Mia’s broad smile and burst of laughter drew Clem out of her reverie. ‘I’ve never seen a unicorn so big and bright and …’
Mia bit back another laugh, assessing the gift the girls had chosen. ‘Pink! So completely magnificent. Fred will love it.’
Clem held up her hands with an apologetic cringe. ‘I take no responsibility for the unicorn.’ She slipped a hand into her tote bag and pulled out a jewellery box. ‘I thought these might be more your taste.’
In one smooth movement, Mia pushed the bundle of blankets and soft skin into Clem’s arms and took the small pink jewellery box.
‘I was joking about a push present!’ She opened the box.
‘Actually, scratch that, this is a tradition I could totally get behind,’ Mia said, fawning over the freshwater pearl earrings Clem had chosen.
Clem sucked in another slow breath, taking in the porcelain skin and tiny button nose that belonged to baby Fred.
He was so light, with a dusting of fair hair like his mum, and looked so angelic that Clem was caught off guard as a burbling noise erupted from beneath the blanket.
‘Fred’s got a good set of gas pipes,’ Clem said as he let out another ripper.
The girls shrieked with laughter. Mia groaned. ‘Not again, I’ve already been through three nappies this morning. Do you want to change him?’
Clem hesitated, trying not to look terrified by the suggestion. Holding the baby was more than she’d bargained on, and she was ridiculously relieved when Mia’s mother-in-law breezed into the room.
Agatha Angelino held a pile of folded clothes in one hand, and Reggie’s little hand in the other. The little boy was by Indi and Harriet’s side in a flash.
‘Did someone say it was changing time?’ Agatha unloaded the clean laundry into Mia’s hospital cupboard and held out her hands. ‘I’ll do it! Just like pegging those teeny-tiny jumpsuits to the clothesline, changing newborn nappies doesn’t feel like a chore when you’re a grandma.’
Clem didn’t need to be asked twice; she gratefully handed Fred over.
The warm-hearted woman doted on her grandchildren as much as she doted on her son and daughter-in-law, almost a carbon copy of Hazel and Maggie West’s mum, Kathy.
Both women were driven by kindness and a determination to help their daughters in any way they could, whenever, wherever, however.
And while it was a weird time for her brain to pile jealousy onto the storm of emotions battering her right now, Clem couldn’t help thinking how nice it would’ve been to have had the same support from her own mum, especially the first time round.
‘Did you get to watch him being lifted out? I hope you couldn’t feel a thing,’ Clem said, keeping an eye on the tower Reggie and Indi were making out of the ‘congratulations’ cards.
Mia was finishing the dramatic story of her C-section when a nurse swept into the room.
‘We’re doing the rounds, pet,’ the nurse said, beaming at Mia. ‘I’ll check on the other mums first, give you a chance to finish speaking with your visitors.’