Chapter Fourteen
Sadie
E than and I jump apart. Thank God for the interruption. I was a breath away from stretching up on my toes and kissing him. Finally knowing what those full lips might feel like on mine. And that would be bad.
A tiny, round woman with long, brown hair, dark eyes and bubbling energy bustles around the corner into the kitchen, followed at a lazy saunter by a tall, thin man with silvery hair and bright green eyes. They couldn’t be more opposite if you designed it that way.
“Oh. You must be Ethan.” Without missing a beat she hurls her arms around him for a fierce hug. “And who might you be?” She peers past Ethan’s bicep to get a look at me.
“I’m Sadie. Ethan’s …” Ethan’s what? Friend? Colleague? She doesn’t seem to need further clarification, though. We’re saved from the awkwardness by the arrival of Will, toting a basket full of babies.
“Caroline. Ansel. You made it.” The grin hasn’t left his face. Nor the look of stunned pride.
Ethan is released, and Caroline zips across the room to Will and the babies without even appearing to move.
“I told Ansel we should’ve come yesterday. But no. He was convinced we had time. You’d think after thirty years of marriage he’d know to listen to my instincts.”
“Thirty-three, Caro,” the man, apparently called Ansel, says in a deep and melodious voice that sounds like it belongs to a Shakespearean actor.
She lifts a sleeping baby from the basket, cradling it expertly in the crook of her elbow and peering at its little face. “Anyway, all’s well. It’s a lovely thing you delivered your babies, William. A wonderful bonding most men don’t get to experience.”
Will laughs.
“I wouldn’t have missed it for the world. Although I could’ve done without it being in a barn.”
Caroline thrusts the baby at Ansel, who takes it with as much skill as she did.
“Right. They’re clearly in good shape. I’ll go and check on Freyja, then be back to take a look at the umbilicus and give them a proper once over.”
Ethan and I are left stunned in her wake, but Will and Ansel are clearly used to the whirlwind that is Caroline.
“Ansel, this is my brother, Ethan. And his … friend, Sadie. In case you hadn’t spotted the likenesses, Ansel and Caroline are Freyja’s parents.”
There’s a flurry of hand shaking and nice-to-meet-you’s before a slightly awkward silence falls. Will is starting to look exhausted, Ethan looks vaguely uncomfortable, and I’m guessing Caroline is the talker between her and Ansel.
I hold up the platter I’ve been working on. “Anyone for a sandwich?”
Freyja’s mum is a midwife and doula, and Will decides he might as well follow her and check on Freyja, so he pops the baby Ansel is holding back in the basket with its twin and disappears, muttering about baby checkups and getting the official seal of approval from Caroline.
“So. Ansel Hooper. Would I be right in thinking you wrote a book on the connections between Roman, Greek and Viking mythology?” Ethan asks.
Which is exactly the right question to get the reticent Ansel talking until the new family emerge from the bedroom.
“Caroline says their little belly-buttons are perfect. I was a bit worried since I’d had to improvise to clamp their cords, but it’s all good.” There’s a mixture of pride and relief in Will’s voice as he settles Freyja on the couch with adorable care and the babies, sleeping soundly in their basket, are set in the middle of the table for everyone to admire.
No sooner are we all relaxing on the massive couches with sandwiches and cups of tea than there’s a cheerful knock on the door. The district nurse is full of apologies for not getting here on time. The tussle that ensues between the nurse, who wants to tick this job off her list, and Caroline, who insists she’s checked mum and babies out thoroughly, has everyone attempting to hold back smiles. I’m not the least bit surprised when Caroline wins the oh-so-polite argument and the nurse scuttles back to her car.
“Too little, too late,” mutters the tiny but fierce Caroline as she closes the front door with a distinct snap, and none of us can hold back our laughs.
I’m about to brew another pot of tea when the front door bursts open, and no less than eight adults toting three small children rush into the living room, all talking at once.
It’s pandemonium.
A tiny woman with silver hair, who I take to be Ethan’s mother, hugs Will and Freyja in turn before folding Ethan up in a hug. The love for her children, who tower over her, is clear on her face. As is their love for her. I don’t miss the look of longing she shoots at Ethan, as though all she wants is to gather him into her arms and hold on tight. I swallow down a lump. What a lucky man he is, despite the tragedy he’s endured.
And I’ve never seen so many good-looking people together in one room. Ethan’s friend Nick has a profile that belongs on the cover of a romance book and his wife, Lulu, bears more than a passing resemblance to Blake Lively. Ethan’s younger brother, Ben, looks like a model. A look that is in no way diminished by the sleeping baby he’s holding in the baby carrier. His wife, Rosanna, reminds me of an Italian movie star. And Greer, Ethan’s sister, has the most glorious red hair I’ve ever seen. Her partner, Josh, the apparent bad boy of the group with his man bun and tattoos, must notice my bemused expression.
“It’s a lot when we all get together. Don’t worry. You’ll get used to it.”
I suspect he has the wrong idea about who I am and why I’m here, but it’s too chaotic to explain it right now.
The babies are passed from person to person for the seal of approval without even stirring. I don’t know anything about babies, but they look cute. If a little red and crumpled.
I pull more fabulous sourdough bread out of the freezer—this is a remarkably well-stocked kitchen—defrost it, and get started on making more sandwiches, which I pile on platters and put on the coffee table to be hoovered up by the hungry crowd. When Ethan offers to make tea, his father, Harry, waves him off and opens the bottles of champagne he brought.
“To the newest Carters …” He pauses and cocks a questioning eyebrow at Will, who is standing proudly behind Freyja.
“Theo and Cora,” Will supplies.
“To Theo and Cora,” everyone cheers.
Finally, the noise level starts to die down to happy chatter.
“So. You’re Sadie,” says Ben, dropping onto the footstool next to my chair. That seems like an odd way to phrase it. Surely Ethan hasn’t mentioned me to his family? Because there’s nothing to mention.
Blue eyes, much lighter than Ethan’s but just as perceptive, search my face. Everyone has fallen silent. Watching. Waiting for an answer. I look at Ethan for guidance
“Sadie is one of my tutoring assistants and a PhD student. She was kind enough to drive me down because of the eye test. And the drops.” Thank God for Ethan’s poker face. And thank God he left out the whole meet-cute one-night stand story.
“Oh,” sighs Ethan’s mother, sounding disappointed. And is it my imagination or do Greer’s shoulders slump ever so slightly? Everyone looks vaguely glum for a moment, except for Diana, who hides a knowing smirk behind her teacup.
The babies are fed and changed, and Freyja’s eyes are starting to droop when Ethan’s mum, Stella, and Caroline, who have had their heads together in intense discussion for the last twenty minutes, stand and announce it’s time for everyone to leave.
Caroline and Ansel are staying with Will and Freyja, Diana is going home, and everyone else is heading back up the hill to Harry and Stella’s for the night.
“I’ll send down some dinner, Caroline, so you don’t have to cook. We’ll see you for brunch in the morning,” Stella says as she herds us all out the door, collecting Lulu’s daughter, who is curled up with the pet kangaroo, singing nursery rhymes in a sweet, vaguely Scottish accent, on the way.
I’m not sure who’s more relieved, the exhausted new parents or Ethan, who’s been looking more and more tense as the afternoon progressed. There’s another long round of kisses, I love yous and congratulations before we’re all gathered around the vehicles.
“I need to let Sadie get back to Sydney with the car. Could one of you give me a lift back tomorrow?” Ethan asks. There’s a beat of silence and a flurry of furtive looks exchanged before they all start talking at once.
“Oh, we would, only we’re staying till next week.”
“I’m sorry, we’re actually not going home for a few days.”
“Your father and I were planning on staying the week.”
“Sorry, man. We’re heading to Bowral for a mini break, not going back to Sydney till next week.”
I don’t know who said what, but the upshot is, that there’s no lift back for Ethan tomorrow. And whilst everyone apologised, there’s no evidence of genuine regret on any of the faces looking faux innocently back at us. It seems this is a very managing kind of family. Ethan’s jaw is so tight I’m worried he might crack a tooth.
His eyes have settled enough for him to drive, so I hand over the keys and hop into the passenger seat. Only at the gate, when everyone else turns right up the hill, we turn left.
“Are we not going to your parents’ place?”
“No. I’ll book us a couple of rooms at the B & B in town.” His mouth barely moves as he answers.
I study Ethan’s profile. A muscle in his cheek is twitching, his nostrils are flaring, and his eyes are glued to the road. No doubt he expected me to be on my way by now. And clearly, he hasn’t taken kindly to being managed. Or perhaps he feels uncomfortable with me in his family space. Which wouldn’t be unreasonable given how things stand between us.
It dawns on me that there are a lot of people staying at the Carter’s tonight. From the brief glimpse I got, it looked like a big house, but perhaps there’s not enough room for me.
“You don’t have to do that. I can, umm, is there a train? I can get a train home, and you can stay at your parents’ place.”
“I wouldn’t be staying at their place anyway, and there’s only one train a day. We’ve missed it. I checked. We’ll stay tonight and drive back tomorrow. I’m sorry this has inconvenienced you so much. I wasn’t thinking straight when Will called.”
“It wasn’t an inconvenience. I was happy to do it. You couldn’t miss the birth of your niece and nephew.”
The conversation is cut off as we pull into the main street of town. It’s charming in a turn-of-the-century way common to so many Australian country towns. One end of the street is dominated by a big old-fashioned pub with a wraparound verandah. At the other end, separated from the pub by a dozen or so cute little shops, is a rambling country house with a B & B sign swinging gently in the last moments of late afternoon sun.
A cheerful and efficient woman checks us in, and if Ethan wasn’t so tense, I’d make a joke about there only being one room with one bed like in the movies, but it’s clear that kind of joke wouldn’t be appreciated right now.
“Two rooms. Up the stairs and to the left,” she says. “Breakfast is between seven and nine in the dining room just through those doors. Enjoy your stay.” She points to French doors on our right, open to show several tables of white linen and silverware in front of picture windows and a view of a lush, overgrown cottage garden. Handing over two large, old-fashioned brass keys, she disappears into the tiny cubicle-like office behind the desk.
“I have a few emails to send. How about we meet here at six to grab some dinner from the pub?” Ethan suggests.
“Sounds good,” I agree before he disappears into his room.
At a loose end, I decide to wander down the street and check out the shops. Maybe find somewhere to get a toothbrush, some deodorant and, if I’m really lucky, a pair of knickers.
It’s late afternoon, and most of the shops are starting to pack up. There’s a supermarket still open, though, and I’m able to grab the essentials, including a toothbrush and deodorant for Ethan. They even have a five pack of cotton undies. They’re nothing glamorous, but at least they’ll be clean.
It’s not until I’m paying for my purchases that it occurs to me I could’ve taken the car and Ethan could’ve caught the train back tomorrow. Odd neither of us thought of that.
I’m coming out of the shop when Freyja’s friend Diana walks past.
I hold up my bag of goodies. “Just getting a couple of essentials,” I say by way of explanation when she stops.
“Stella didn’t have any spares?” Of course she’d assume I’m staying at the Carters’ house.
“Oh. No. We’re … I’m staying in town. At the B & B.” I wave vaguely in the cottage’s direction.
“Hmm. Uh-uh. I can understand that.” She nods sagely.
I can’t help myself.
“Can you?”
She takes a long time to answer. When she does, it’s not what I anticipate.
“Be patient with Ethan. There’s a lot going on under the surface. Still a lot for him to work out. He’ll be worth it in the end, I expect.” And with that cryptic comment, she saunters off along the street, leaving me wondering what the hell is going on with Ethan and his family.
And with Freyja’s weird friend.