Midwife in the Family Way (10 page)

‘You have a beautiful view.' He could see across to the trees on the other side of the lake from there.

‘Yes.' Emma sighed. ‘It was hard for my father to leave here but my mother needed a higher level of care than was available in Lyrebird Lake or even somewhere close enough to travel to.'

He returned his gaze to Emma and he found the view even more attractive. ‘How long has your mother been in care?'

Emma still stared unseeingly across the water. ‘For six years.' The breeze lifted the fair hair across her nape.

Gianni watched her profile until she turned. ‘And your father stays with her?'

Emma nodded. ‘He rents a small flat in Brisbane and
visits every day. I go up most weekends except when I work.'

Gianni could see Emma hated it that her father, to her mind, was trapped. ‘And Grace? Does she understand why her grandmother is away?'

‘She knows that Nana's hands shake.' Emma glanced back towards the kitchen and her daughter. ‘And that she drops things and sometimes her hands fly out. She knows that sometimes Nana isn't as happy as other times but she accepts that. We talked about Nana being Nana and her illness will get worse and the doctors are working on a cure so other people won't get sick like Nana.'

The door opened and Grace was standing there. A smaller blonde edition of her mother and very serious. Emma lifted her arm and Grace came in under it and climbed on her lap for a cuddle. ‘I heard what you're talking about,' Grace said.

Gianni bit his lip but Emma didn't seem perturbed. It made him admire her all the more. ‘That's okay, Grace. Gianni was asking about Nana and why she lives in the hospice.'

Grace nodded and leaned towards Gianni with her little face lifted to his in earnest. ‘It's like.' She paused and thought about it. ‘If someone stole my Barbie house, it would be gone. But this disease is stealing Nana's brain one Barbie at a time. And you don't get the dolls back so the house is getting emptier.' She lifted her chin. ‘But I still love the house and can remember the fun I had with each Barbie, even though it's gone.' She sighed
and sank back into her mother's arms, which tightened around her.

Gianni blinked, because for the first time in a very many years he allowed the emotion to rise in his throat and sat in awe of these two amazing beings. ‘I see that. Thank you, Grace. That is a very good way of explaining.'

The timer on the oven rang and Grace climbed off her mother's lap with a child's resilience. ‘Dinner's ready. I'll put the house away now.' She ran off and the screen door banged as she let it close behind her.

‘Does she know that you're at risk? And her?'

Emma lifted her barely touched glass and stood up. ‘She's asked. I've said that the chance is the same as having a boy baby or a girl baby. Nobody knows until it happens or they're tested. We haven't gone further than that.'

His eyes narrowed. ‘If you had the test you could stop your worry that Grace will be at risk.'

She lifted her chin and dared him to argue. ‘If I had the test I could find out just how real that risk is.'

He wanted to know now. About Grace. About Emma. About his own unborn child. Not wait for some nebulous time for Emma to feel it was right, but he curbed his impatience and tried to see it from her position. He sighed. He couldn't.

He could tell she was finished with the topic and for the moment he accepted that. She'd been more open than he'd expected and he had a lot to think about. These
were all issues they needed to explore if he wanted a part of his child's life, and he appreciated her honesty.

They stood and he opened the door for her, and the tempting aroma drifting from the oven flowed over them. Regardless of those dilemmas, they all had to eat. The world continued to turn. ‘Grace said she likes Bolognese.' His way of agreeing to drop the topic.

‘We both do.' She smiled at him and he savoured the beginning of the first sign of acceptance he'd had from her. Except for the physical that neither of them seemed to have much control over. A tiny acceptance but a beginning.

Two hours later it was time for Grace to retire and Gianni was shown the door. ‘Thank you, Gianni.' Emma's cheeks were flushed and they'd all laughed a lot. ‘It was a lovely birthday.'

He waved his hands. ‘I would have liked to have brought a gift.'

‘You did. Grace enjoyed your company and so did I.'

He could see that and it warmed his soul more than he would have believed possible. He'd seen the maternal side of Emma tonight and she shone at it. ‘That is good. Because I have to go up to Brisbane for the weekend, and I'd like to come with you to meet your parents.'

Her smile died. He watched it fall off her face like a napkin off their party table but he refused to regret the request. ‘Why?' she said.

So afraid. ‘Because I've heard that you have your mother's eyes and your father's strength. Because
you won't let me in for the reason of how their life is.' Because he needed to understand this woman and perhaps her parents were a clue.

He was beginning to read her frown, the thoughtful purse of her lips. And occasionally the nuances of her smile. All things he hadn't noticed in a woman in a long time, and the practice had become addictive.

She tossed her hair. He'd noticed she did that, too, but, it seemed, only around him. Good. He was glad. No hair tossing around other men would keep him happy.

‘What if I don't want you to come?' she said.

He could feel the pull at the edge of his mouth as he shrugged. ‘Then I must persuade you.'

Her eyebrows went up. ‘Do you think you can?'

‘Certainly.' Of course.

Emma had to laugh. She'd done a lot of that tonight. It would ‘certainly' be a different weekend if Gianni was around. She looked at him, tall and debonair despite the casual clothes he'd chosen, casual but still elegant in an expensively masculine way.

She tried to see his motive for wanting to meet her parents but the feeling of lightness he'd generated with his company blinded her and it was too hard at this moment to look for reasons why she should bar him from his desire. ‘Suit yourself. Lucky that you have your own things you have to do because my weekend is pretty busy.'

He turned to Grace. ‘Are you coming this weekend, Grace?'

Grace yawned and shook her little blonde head. ‘Grandma is taking me to the circus.'

S
ATURDAY
arrived and Emma dropped Grace off at her paternal grandmother's with her rolling Barbie suitcase trailing behind her. It bumped and clattered as Grace skipped up the curving path in her pink sundress to where Tommy's mother waited. Grace waved as her mother drove off.

As she glanced back Emma felt as though a part of her life had receded in the rear-vision mirror. This morning's phone call had seen to that.

Now she regretted Gianni's push to see her parents today. Who knew what she'd been thinking when she'd said yes to dinner out and staying in Brisbane for the night? She didn't know why she'd agreed, perhaps because she felt guilty that she'd refused his proposal, but she made the proviso of her own room at her own expense. In the cold light of day she wished she hadn't agreed to go with him at all.

And now this morning's notification had changed everything. Tomorrow she would find out. The next time she saw her daughter she'd be a different woman, if she could bring herself to attend.

If she did, she would know finally what did or didn't lie in store for them with the Huntington's gene, because the results were irretrievably back. But not irretrievably opened, and they kept telling her she still had that choice.

The ramifications of what lay inside an envelope sent cold shivers down her back and she didn't know if she could sit in front of the woman who'd become her friend over the three counselling sessions she'd needed before this impending consultation.

She drove home and parked her car in the garage. She sat in the semi-darkness for ten minutes before she shook herself and moved to the veranda to wait for Gianni.

How she wished she'd never agreed to drive up to Brisbane with him. It was a mammoth dilemma. But how to get out of his company without explaining why she wanted to be on her own?

The specially organised appointment by Andy's friend, the genetic counsellor, was on Sunday at noon. Her brain had frozen and when Sunday had been offered she'd realised she'd still be there, with Gianni, and had said yes.

There with the last person she felt ready to share the news with because either way she was going to lose.

If it was positive then the waiting began all over again until Grace, let alone this new, unborn child inside her decided to have their own tests.

And for the first time she really thought of what would happen if it was negative. While she herself
would be free of the spectre, she wouldn't be free of the guilt that she'd been spared. That freedom meant she would be there to watch others she loved go through what her mother was going through and she would never leave them to manage alone.

Every day she'd avoided the end of not knowing. Of having no choice but to accept her fate. The fate of Grace. And now the fate of Gianni's baby. And by proxy the fate of her love for Gianni. But she didn't want to know.

It hadn't been until that morning had dawned that she'd suddenly realised she hadn't factored in her feelings should the result be negative, and there was no time to think. It was all too much.

She saw his car pull up and his stride up the path. She watched him walk under the rose arch with a strange detachment in her eyes that allowed her see him as a whole.

A tall, imposing man with an aura that spoke of quick decisions and swift action. To think she'd run her hands over those broad shoulders and lean, corded muscles of his body and he'd crushed her too him against his solid chest and made her heart rate speed frantically like the pedals of a pushbike downhill.

Lithe, and light on his feet, he was beside her in an instant. His brows furrowed.

‘What is wrong,
cara
?' Gianni paused as he looked down, his thick brows creasing as he studied her face.

She stood, suddenly overwhelmed that this man had decided to spend his life with her not because he loved
her but because she was pregnant with his child. That was a reality she couldn't escape.

He'd been more determined, not less, when she'd disclosed her family history, all because of an accidental pregnancy. Not because he couldn't live without her.

But she could never accept, regardless of her Huntington's result on Sunday, because her future was firmly in Australia. She would be either caring for family or being cared for by them. That was why she hadn't told him the result was pending. Horribly imminent.

‘Nothing wrong,' she said, and walked towards the car. Gianni carried her bag.

When he opened the car door for her, Gianni's eyes narrowed at the paleness and tension in her face. He'd planned this trip to the last detail and his plans to woo Emma finally now appeared less secure. ‘Did you not sleep? Is Grace unwell?'

‘Good morning to you, too, Gianni.' She did not look too pleased with his solicitous comment and he searched her face again for clues.

‘Grace is fine.' She slid into the car and he shut her door, his brow creased as he walked around and climbed in himself.

She sighed. ‘I'm sorry. I'm a little flat this morning and not very good company. I didn't sleep well.' She buckled her seat belt and stared straight ahead. ‘And unless you'd like to take separate cars, I just want to get it over with.'

This was new territory. And not like the woman who embraced life and hurt no one. He tried to fathom the
new source of her distress but he was still lacking the skills.

‘Get the visit to your parents over with?' He did up his own seat belt. ‘Or perhaps the idea of spending time with me as a whole is exhausting?' He reached for the key and then sat back again to face her. ‘Perhaps you could tell me what I have done to offend you?'

She did look at him then and bit her lip ‘You've done nothing wrong.' The sincerity in her voice allayed some of his misgivings. ‘Please. I'm tired and don't want to talk about it.'

He had to offer. ‘Would you prefer to take your own car?' He saw the colour flood her face and he hid his disappointment. Yes, she would.

Emotions, many and varied, chased across her face and he wanted to draw her into his arms and comfort her for whatever new thing had caused this upheaval, but the way she held herself demanded he not invade her space. He ran his hands through the back of his hair. He spent so much time trying to fathom this woman he was sure he'd missed many opportunities to do what he wished to do.

‘Take my car? I don't know,' she said. ‘So let's go.'

At least she hadn't decided yes. He'd felt obliged to make the offer but he wouldn't give her another opportunity to change her mind. He turned the key in the ignition and pulled away from the kerb with little delay.

It had been very close but he still had the woman he wanted in the seat beside him. He reached and turned on the car's sound system and the soft strands of
Tosca
filled the space between them. He saw her sink back in the seat, her shoulders dropped and she closed her eyes. Good.

Emma slept, her face unworried in repose, and he was thankful for another reason she hadn't driven herself. It was his duty to keep her safe and as the black beast swallowed the miles to Brisbane Gianni thought about the last month. He thought of all the high and low points of a very strange courtship with this woman who'd so easily assailed the barriers he'd erected since Maria.

Then he revisited the month before in Italy with only memories of Emma to keep him warm and realised he'd not been cold once since he'd returned to Australia, and it wasn't just the weather.

His new life had started with a funeral and ended with a rebirth. His. He remembered the first morning they'd woken together and the sound of the chimes he'd thought was the wind. The sight of that mystical bird's pure imitation of the stationary chimes had remained with him the whole time away. Along with Emma's face as she'd listened.

The whole of Lyrebird Lake had embraced him, the people, the land, the warmth, and all he needed from Emma was her acceptance of his right to be by her side and part of her children's lives. He swore to himself as he drove that he would make that happen.

 

When they stopped Emma woke and he said nothing as he waited for her to get her bearings. She sat up straighter and blinked. ‘We're here?'

Her eyes looked bruised and he tightened his hands on the wheel to stop himself reaching for her. ‘
Si
, you slept.'

She looked around. The dark brick walls of the hospice loomed over the courtyard where they'd parked and she couldn't help but wonder if this was where she'd end her days. That was beyond depressing when she looked at Gianni beside her. There was no way she'd allow Gianni to be with her then.

‘Don't you have better things to do than visit my parents?' Emma had changed her mind about Gianni's presence at the hospice, a new urgency to keep him away from them, but he'd been persistently obstinate.

‘At least let me meet the grandparents of my child.' He flashed a stern glance at her. ‘You can't block me out of your life completely. And if you plan to exclude me, they should meet me so they will know of whom you speak.'

Emma sighed and gave in as she waited for Gianni to open her door.

A shaft of sunlight shone into the courtyard and fell on the blonde hair of Emma's mother, Clare. She sat strapped in a wheelchair with her husband by her side, and Emma dreaded the first few minutes of her visit every week because she never knew how her mother would be when she arrived.

Sometimes Clare was alert and almost focussed, other times morbidly depressed and railing against her condition.

The disease affected the way the brain worked and
depression and anger had less controls left to keep them in check.

Once a beautiful woman, the ravages of the disease had screwed up Clare's face and twisted her body so that she seemed perched in the chair more than relaxed back in it.

Her blue eyes lit up when she saw Emma and her arm flung out in an uncontrolled greeting that almost knocked her husband's head. Her dad smiled and moved out of the way.

‘So you know me today,' Emma said softly, and kissed her mother's cheek. She handed her father the roses she'd brought from home. ‘Mum's roses are thriving. And I've brought a friend to see you both.'

Clare clapped her hands at the treat and Emma smiled. ‘This is Gianni Bonmarito, from Italy. Gianni is filling in for Angus at the moment, and had to come up to Brisbane, so we came together.' She turned back to Gianni. ‘This is my mother, Clare, and my father, Rex.'

Gianni lifted her mother's hand to his mouth and kissed it. Clare crowed loudly with delight and he smiled at her. ‘It is true your daughter has your beautiful eyes.'

Then he shook hands with Rex. ‘Sir.'

Rex didn't smile but his eyes softened. ‘It's always nice to meet friends of Emma's. How long are you staying in Lyrebird Lake, Gianni?'

Gianni met his solid look. ‘Only another week. Angus returns next Friday.'

Emma looked across and hoped her face was impassive. She could survive that long. In fact, the time had passed swiftly. That was a good thing.

His deep voice flowed around her as she thought about the realities of his departure, about the impact he'd had on her life, and the impact she wouldn't allow him. Then a change in his tone alerted her and his words sank in.

‘There are many things I will miss about Queensland. But the hardest to leave will be Emma.' He stared straight into Rex's face. ‘I come today because I wish to ask permission to court your daughter.'

Gianni heard the words come from his own mouth and wasn't sure who was most surprised—he or Emma. Or perhaps Rex?

Suddenly it was clear. It wasn't duty he was offering this woman—it was his heart. In his mind he still could see her calm face asleep in the car, trusting beside him, that feeling of rightness at keeping her safe.

That moment when she'd greeted her mother, daughterly love searching for the recognition she'd found, had given him real joy. He'd been so glad for her because he loved Emma. He needed to be there for her as the Barbie doll's house that was her mother became emptier. He needed to be there for her if and when her brothers became ill, and when the time came, he wanted to be there when she opened the results for herself. Not because his life was forever tied to hers—or that the result affected his own unborn child—but to be her rock like Rex was the rock for Clare.

Emma's mouth dropped open. How dared he say that in front of her parents? With no warning? Make them think there was something between them?

Well, wasn't there? a sensible voice inside argued logically. A growing child she refused to discuss with him?

Emma gasped. She couldn't help her protest. ‘You have no right to say that here, Gianni.' Emma could feel the heat in her cheeks at her father's searching look. And Clare clapped her hands with childlike excitement. What had he been thinking to say that?

Gianni slanted a glance at her. ‘It is customary to ask permission from your father.'

She shook her head at her parents as she tried to undo the damage Gianni had caused, but didn't know how. ‘But not necessary, as I've already said no.'

‘
Si.
But I will not give up.' He looked at her parents. ‘I wish to show Emma and Grace my beautiful country. I am a wealthy man who has fallen in love with your daughter. Do I have your permission to woo her?'

Fallen in love? How dared he lie to her parents? To her?

‘It's up to Emma but I have no objections.' Rex grinned at his fuming daughter. ‘You should think about it, Emma. It sounds like a fabulous idea, to visit, at least. You've never had a holiday.' Rex looked from one to the other as Gianni brushed off Emma‘s complaint. He was no fool. ‘And a great opportunity for Grace to broaden her horizons.'

‘Dad,' Emma sighed with exasperation, ‘it's not happening.'