Chapter 34
The drive home passed in silence, and Struan was quick to escape the farm afterwards, muttering something about packing for his trip. Probably for the best, since Rae was still reeling from his confession, though she wanted to be there for him while he worked through his emotions.
As evening fell, she busied herself by preparing comfort food instead.
While Martha and Vik made themselves scarce, Dad hovered in the kitchen.
She wondered if he was upset that they’d returned early, breaking his short-lived peace, and clenched her jaw as she stirred through the cheesy macaroni.
When the silence got too loud, air too thick, she snapped, ‘Am I in your way again?’
Dad leaned over the counter, gazing down at her under thick, silver-speckled eyebrows. ‘Not at all. Just watching the master at work.’
‘I’ll be done soon. I just wanted to make something for Martha.’
‘She had a rough day,’ he pointed out.
It was difficult to restrain a sardonic no shit at that, though Dad couldn’t have known.
He might have been bad-tempered at times, set in his ways, but he never would have treated Rae the way Denise had treated Martha and Struan today.
Never would have made her feel less than for not living up to his expectations, even if she knew her own lack of maternal desires would leave the farm without a successor, providing it stayed open for long enough to be passed down at all.
He certainly wouldn’t care what partner she chose, her sexuality having never fazed him except for the one time he’d asked, ‘So, you like a bit of everything, then?’
Her frostiness thawed, posture drooping as she tended to the pulled pork sizzling away in the oven. After all the stress of the last few days, she expected the smoky scent of barbecue sauce and roasted peppers to turn her stomach, but instead, it grumbled.
There was nothing in the world that greasy, flavourful carbs couldn’t fix. She just hoped Martha agreed.
‘You did, too,’ Dad said after minutes of watching her.
Taken aback by his matter-of-fact tone, vulnerability stripped her defences. She wasn’t used to him noticing her that way. How obvious must her feelings for Struan be if even he could see them?
She tried to play it off, not ready for this conversation. Tonight wasn’t about her. It was about supporting Martha and Vik. ‘What do you mean?’
‘You’ve had a lot on your plate, love.’
‘My own fault, as you keep graciously pointing out.’ Her hands trembled as she grabbed the plates from the cupboard beside the stove. ‘Are you hungry?’
‘Ravenous. Just the pasta for me, though.’ Dad tugged the plates from Rae’s hands. ‘Where’d you disappear to last night?’
‘Just needed to change out of my chef’s clothes.’
‘For over an hour?’
He knew. Of course he did. God, she hoped he hadn’t heard her and Struan in the cupboard—
‘You’re a strong lass. I never thought to worry about how much pressure you put on those shoulders of yours.’
No. He wasn’t asking about Struan at all.
She was coping so terribly that it must have been written all over her face. He thought she was weak, and he was right.
Dad’s hands closed gently around her wrists, hardened palms scraping her skin. She looked at them, big and weathered by a lifetime of hard work, so she wouldn’t have to see the disappointment, sympathy – whatever it was colouring his tone – on his face.
‘I should’ve,’ he continued quietly. ‘I should’ve noticed something wasn’t right when you came home out of the blue. When you wanted to throw yourself into fixing the farm instead of going back to work.’
‘I’m fine, Dad,’ she repeated, but that exhaustion was pummelling her from all sides again, barking that she wasn’t fine.
Not really. She’d fallen out of love with the one thing she was good at.
She’d fallen in love with the one man she wasn’t supposed to.
She didn’t know where she belonged, because it wasn’t here, and it wasn’t Sydney, and it wasn’t in any of the other cities she’d visited.
‘I don’t believe you.’ He tilted her chin. ‘Whatever’s stopping you from getting back out there, you’ll figure it out. You always do. But until then, you stay here. As long as you need, aye? Forever, if you want. I’ll always look after my wee baby girl.’
She hadn’t known she’d been waiting for that permission until she sagged against him, closing her eyes when his arms curled around her.
He smelled like he always had: dust and mint and crisp laundry detergent.
She hadn’t realised how much she’d missed it, missed being a daughter cradled by safety and strength.
He dipped his head to press a kiss into her hair, grip tightening when her tears began to dampen his T-shirt.
‘I should have told you that the minute you came home. I just didn’t want you to feel like you had to stay here out of obligation.
I was worried you’d end up resenting this place if it weighed you down too much. ’
‘The way Mum did.’
She felt him nod. ‘But you’re not her, love, and this’ll always be your home, whether you want it or not. I don’t need you to be running yourself into the ground to fix my failures or to look after me. If you stay, stay because you want to, aye?’
‘There’s nowhere else I want to be,’ she promised. ‘I just didn’t want to disappoint you or get under your feet. I don’t know what’s wrong with me, Dad. I don’t know why it got so hard.’
‘You’ve never given yourself time to catch your breath. Even now, you’re running around after everyone else.’ Beneath her, his stomach deflated with a long sigh. ‘It’s time to start putting yourself first, and I don’t just mean by taking a break from your career.’
She pulled away, wincing at the sight of his smug smirk. She didn’t want to hear him say it, but of course he did. ‘When are you going to put the poor lad out of his misery?’
‘It’s complicated.’
He leaned his hip against the counter again. ‘Doesn’t seem to be for him.’
How in love with you I am.
He couldn’t have meant it. It had only been a couple of months.
They’d never shared a bed or gone on a date or taken a trip together.
He didn’t know all of Rae’s flaws, like how she never sang the right lyrics to songs and how she burped when she was anxious and how she binge-watched true crime shows to make herself feel better about her own life.
She looked out of the window, her eyes finding Martha and Vik sitting on the grass with the dogs.
Whether Struan had meant it or not didn’t matter, not as long as Rae was too cowardly to talk to Martha about it.
Dad squeezed her shoulder. ‘You deserve that sort of love, too. You’re not a bad person for wanting it.’
But she felt like one all the same.
She turned down the heat on the oven. Staring at her striped oven mitts, her stomach clenched with the realisation that everything was about to change.
Her career plans, her friendship with Martha, her connection with Struan.
Everything she’d thought she knew rearranging itself until the world was barely recognisable.
She could keep ignoring it, but it wouldn’t make it less true. It was time to start putting herself first, like Dad had said.
Even if it meant leaving some things behind.
‘I think I’d like to stay here through autumn. I’m not ready to go back to a restaurant. I… I need to get myself right first.’
Dad smiled and placed a final kiss on her forehead. ‘Good, because I’m not ready to lose you again just yet.’
She waited for regret, a change of heart, but it never came. Instead, in her cramped little kitchen, she felt the first piece of a new puzzle slot into place.
She took a deep breath and let the relief wash through her.
Rae plonked herself onto the picnic blanket beside Martha, forcing the steaming plate of mac and cheese heaped with pulled pork into her hands. Vik had gone inside to give them space, which wasn’t necessary, but appreciated.
The ghost of a smile crossed Martha’s lips as she assessed the meal, an anticipatory hum falling from her.
Still her favourite, then. Rae had made sure to add extra crunch with a cheesy breadcrumb topping, as well as slathered butter and herbs over a cob of corn, slightly charred for more flavour.
When Martha took the first bite and her eyes fluttered shut, Rae remembered why she’d once adored cooking: not to rush around a kitchen like a deer in headlights, but to offer an experience that would leave her diner feeling satisfied.
She’d never been much good at saying the right thing, but she could cook a bloody good comfort dish.
Realising it was like reuniting with herself, she speared her own fork into the macaroni, making sure to sweep up some vinegar-soaked rocket leaves and crispy pork. It was delicious, the rich, creamy cheese softening the tang of the salad dressing, while the sweet barbecue sauce warmed her tongue.
Struan would have loved it, she thought, and slowed chewing as another bout of longing took hold of her.
She hoped that his time away would put an end to this.
She didn’t like missing somebody, needing somebody.
In so many ways, it had been easier when she’d only had to focus on getting through the day alone.
Easier, but emptier.
‘How are you feeling?’ Rae asked finally.
Martha tugged Gran’s knitted rainbow blanket around her. The August air had cooled all at once, especially as the sun dipped between the hills, painting the heather a dusty pink. ‘I was expecting it.’
‘Doesn’t make it easier, though.’
‘No.’ She leaned her head against Rae, and Rae set down her plate to hold her as she had so many times before.
She wished she’d said something more impactful to Denise, or really, just told her to fuck off.
She was filled with the same jarring helplessness she’d had when their dad had passed.
A need to fix something beyond her reach.