The Chocolatier's Secret (Magnolia Creek, Book 2) (21 page)

Andrew sniffed, wiped at his eyes. He looked up to stop any tears creeping out, the same way he’d seen Gemma do enough times so she didn’t fall apart. ‘I wonder, now, where I’ll fit into your life. You have a “dad” … the man you grew up with and don’t get me wrong, I’m so happy for you. But I don’t know who I’m supposed to be.’

‘I guess the only thing we can do,’ said Molly with a smile, ‘is see how it evolves.’

‘I’m the fourth part of the triangle,’ he said.

Molly pulled a face. ‘Now I think I must take after Julia for my maths skills, but even I’m pretty sure a triangle has three sides.’

‘I’ve been looking into adoption online, ever since I found out about you. There’s the adoption triangle – birth parents, adoptee and adoptive parents – which seems simple. But I’m not sure how much of a look in the birthfather ever really gets.’ Did he sound too dramatic? He didn’t mean to. ‘I’m just trying to figure out where I fit in, after all this time.’

‘I know.’ She met his gaze. ‘You know, I hadn’t really thought this far. I hadn’t thought any further than knocking on your door, introducing myself and having you either slam it in my face or invite me in. But this …’ She pointed to herself and then him, back again. ‘I hadn’t thought about this and what should happen after.’

‘Can I assume you’ll want to stay in touch, when you return to England?’

She fiddled with her phone gripped between her hands. ‘I know I don’t want this to be the end.’

He swallowed, relieved. ‘How long are you in Australia for?’

‘I’m not leaving until Good Friday.’

His shoulders relaxed. He’d had visions of her saying ‘tomorrow’ or ‘in two days’ time’ and it wasn’t long enough. At least some time gave them a chance at building a foundation. ‘This is a pretty shit time for my family,’ he said honestly. ‘We’re going through a lot of stuff right now.’ He needed to go to Gemma and find out how she was feeling about this. He couldn’t face Louis yet, but he needed to be with his wife.

‘Listen,’ said Molly, ‘this is a lot for one day. I’ll go and if you give me your phone number, perhaps we can meet again tomorrow or the day after.’

‘That sounds like a good idea.’ They exchanged numbers and made their way downstairs. ‘I’m glad you came.’

‘I’m glad too. I’ll see you again.’

When he held the door to the chocolaterie open for her, he watched her walk away down the street towards where she’d turn and head to the cottages.

He hadn’t missed the way Molly’s fingers had trembled as she tapped his number into her phone. When she spoke, she sounded so together, but it was clear she was vulnerable beneath the confident exterior.

Andrew wanted this to work out so badly. He wanted peace in his own family, he wanted to somehow become a part of Molly’s life. This wasn’t one of those cheesy TV programs where everyone came together for a group hug and stuck together from thereon in. This was real life. And real life could be very different.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Gemma

Since that afternoon at the chocolaterie, Gemma and Andrew had barely spoken. He’d wanted to talk the minute he returned, after Molly had gone back to her accommodation. But Gemma hadn’t been ready, and when she came inside from Louis’ annexe, she still didn’t feel as though she could face it.

‘Gemma, talk to me,’ said Andrew. ‘We can’t block each other out.’ He tried to pull her to him in the kitchen, but she backed away.

‘I can’t, not right now,’ she snapped.

‘Okay, calm down.’

‘For God’s sake, Andrew!’ Her yell startled him. ‘I’m taking Louis to dialysis four times a bloody week! I’m working at my job plus yours to cover the extra Easter demand, I’m battling with a husband who won’t save his dying father, I can’t have a baby of my own because for some reason my insides kill them all before they get a chance to live. And to top it all off,
your
child is here, come to find her
father!’

She took a deep breath. ‘So no, Andrew. I won’t calm down.’

He looked strung out, the same way she felt.

‘I know you’re hurting.’ He slumped against the sideboard. ‘And I know a lot of it is my fault.’ She didn’t disagree. ‘But how the hell am I supposed to make it better?’

They stood for a while until the silence began to torture her. She had to get out. Fast.

In the hallway, she pulled on her shoes, and without another word she left the house, slamming the door behind her.

*

An hour later and Gemma was back to find Andrew fixing the leak beneath the sink in the laundry she’d told him about weeks ago.

‘Don’t you have better things to do?’ she asked.

His head banged against the top of the cupboard as he jumped at her voice. ‘I didn’t hear you come in.’ He rubbed his forehead as he got to his feet. ‘All fixed.’

She followed him into the kitchen. ‘Sorry I stormed off.’

He pumped soap into his palms and washed his hands. ‘It’s a lot to take in.’

‘Yeah.’ She leant against the sink as he finished up and dried his hands. The walk to the end of the street, all the way past the fire station, past the railway station and following the cycle trails all the way back to near Myrtle Close had allowed the anger that had boiled over to settle into a simmer.

Andrew stood next to his wife, the tips of their fingers touching. ‘In all of this,’ he said, ‘I’ve never stopped worrying about what it means for you.’

‘You haven’t?’

‘Of course not.’

She’d let herself take on too much, something she often did and failed to realise until it was too late. But she’d never been any different. When she was little she’d do the ironing, baskets of it, refusing to let anyone else help, and then she’d make the dinner, again insisting she was happy to do it when all the while she was thinking it’d be nice if someone else lifted a finger.

‘I should’ve insisted you employ someone else at the shop in the busiest times,’ she told Andrew. ‘And I should’ve made you drive Louis to his dialysis, talking to one another or not.’

She could see how much Andrew was hurting. She could see it in the way his shoulders slumped, in the way his head hung. But she needed to let him know what this meant to her. This wasn’t about one event, one person. It was about everything bundled into one huge mess she was struggling to handle.

‘I think I’m jealous,’ she admitted sheepishly.

‘Jealous?’

‘I know. Ludicrous, isn’t it?’

‘Jealous of Molly?’

‘Yes.’ She covered her face with her hands. ‘There you go, I’ve said it. As crazy as it sounds, I’m jealous of Molly.’

Andrew sat at the kitchen table and waited for Gemma to follow. ‘It’s not crazy at all.’

‘She’s your daughter, the child I’ve never been able to give you. You two have this bond and the start of a relationship that I’m not part of.’

‘Gemma, we’re a team, me and you. Molly comes into my life and she comes into yours, simple.’ If only it was as easy as it sounded.

‘Did you two talk much?’

Andrew looked at her, eyes misted over. ‘She’s lovely.’

‘She is.’ Gemma couldn’t disagree. ‘I suppose she had a lot of questions.’

‘I think the questions will come in time, for both of us. She knows she freaked you out by turning up here.’

Gemma hated to admit it, but Molly was spot on. She had no idea how she was supposed to feel or how she even wanted to feel these days.

‘It’s a big shock, Andrew, and I haven’t had much time to get used to the idea. You have a child, who up until today wasn’t real to me. You had no idea where she was, or whether you’d ever be in contact with her.’ Gemma shook her head. ‘I never for one moment envisaged her turning up like this.’

Andrew recounted some of his conversation with Molly. She knew he was trying to put her mind at ease, trying to convince her to rethink this turn of events as a positive, not a negative. He looked shattered, but instead of the anger that’d sat behind his eyes for the past few days, there was a kind of peace with the knowledge he’d gained.

‘Molly knows I have family to consider,’ said Andrew, ‘and I think she’ll give us the space we need. I’ll call her soon and meet with her again. She’s only here for a while, and I’d like to get to know her before she leaves.’

Part of Gemma wanted to push this girl away, not let her into their lives, but she wasn’t cruel. She forced a small smile. ‘You should. She hasn’t done anything wrong.’ And when she said those words, she almost convinced herself she wasn’t blaming this girl for anything, wasn’t worried Andrew would become more invested in fostering a relationship with Molly than he was in repairing the damage with his father and wife. She told herself she wouldn’t end up resenting Molly for being the child she could never have.

But telling herself one thing and actually believing it was more difficult than she’d thought.

‘I want you to come with me, when I meet her again,’ Andrew brushed his lips lightly against her cheek.

‘I’d like to meet her. But not yet.’ Gemma stroked his hair. ‘You need to get to know her as a person, and I’d feel as though I were intruding. It’s a private thing, for you and her.’ And something Gemma would never be a part of, even if she was physically with them.

She sighed. ‘Can I heat through some chilli for you?’

Andrew got up, planted his hands reassuringly on her shoulders. ‘You stay right there and let me do it.’ First, he took down two glasses and pulled out a bottle of red wine from the sideboard in the kitchen and poured two generous measures. ‘And you can drink this.’

She smiled at him, thankful for the glass of red smoothly trickling its way through her insides. It would give her the courage to bring Louis’ name into the conversation.

‘Louis is shocked she turned up,’ she said tentatively.

Andrew kept his back to her as he stirred and reheated the chilli in the pan on the stove. ‘I don’t want to talk about him, not tonight.’

The way he said it told Gemma they had a long road ahead of them. But they were restricted in time. Louis didn’t have a whole lot of that, and if Andrew didn’t back down soon, there would be no relationship to repair.

Louis would be dead.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Molly

‘So, how do you feel?’ Ben plonked himself on the sofa next to Molly. They’d been texting non-stop the last few days since Molly had met Andrew Bennett for real. Ben had been working flat out at the hospital on the night shift, and there hadn’t been much time to meet up until today.

Molly leant back against the sofa, aware their shoulders were touching. Ben had come straight from another shift, and his clothes had a faint, familiar antiseptic scent, but it didn’t bother her. It was comforting, something familiar in a world that had pretty much turned upside down over the last few weeks.

‘Honestly?’ she asked. ‘I still feel numb, like it didn’t really happen. It’s like my imagination did all the work, and I’ll wake up tomorrow and find I’ve got to go and do it all over again so I know it’s real.’

Molly giggled.

‘What’s funny?’ he asked.

‘Do you remember on the plane, asking me whether Andrew Bennett was fat?’

He pulled a face. ‘I’m not sure where this is going. He looked pretty fit to me.’

‘Exactly, and when I was with him at the café contemplating what to say next, all I kept thinking was how fit and well he looked, not an ounce of fat to be seen. Deep, huh!’

Ben smiled. ‘I guess it’s funny when you think of it that way. But funny things come into our heads at the strangest times. It’s like people who get the giggles at funerals. It happens. The rest of us can’t understand, but maybe they’re thinking of something completely different, to take their mind off the reality of the situation. Otherwise they’d go the other way and fall apart.’

‘I suppose you’re right.’ She yawned when she saw the time on the baby blue clock nested on the shelves above the television.

Ben nudged her arm. ‘I know I’m not exactly scintillating company after work, but I’m not that bad, am I?’

‘Sorry.’

‘Wait … It’s not you, it’s me?’

Molly laughed.

‘I’m glad you finally did it,’ he told her.

‘I think the Bennetts are going to be hard to get to know. The wife ran off when she realised who I was, the father and son aren’t talking to one another because of the lies the family told years ago and Louis might die before I get a chance to know him.’

Ben sat back too, tilted his head to look at the ceiling like Molly, their eyes fixed on the same hairline crack running from the light fitting to the far corner. ‘And you thought you had problems when you were scared of flying.’

Molly sighed. ‘You’re not wrong there.’

‘How did you leave things with Andrew?’

‘We said we’d text or call, but I think both of us need space.’ She hoped he wouldn’t take so long that it was time to leave the country before she’d got to know him even a tiny bit.

‘How about tomorrow morning we get you away from Magnolia Creek, go and have fun, no stress?’

‘Sounds like a brilliant plan to me.’

He stood up, unable to hold in his yawn any longer. ‘I’ll pick you up around eight-thirty in the morning.’

‘See you then.’ She smiled as he turned and made his way to the door. She saw his reflection in the window, and he was smiling too. ‘It can’t be a date though. Remember I leave in less than three weeks, and we’ll have to go back to being online buddies.’

‘Suits me,’ he shrugged.

Somehow she got the feeling he wasn’t as serious as she was.

*

The next day Ben did as promised and picked her up bright and early. She hadn’t heard from Andrew again, but she checked her phone every few minutes as Ben drove out of Magnolia Creek. She turned her head as they went past the chocolaterie, wondering whether he was in there, whether he was thinking about her.

‘Has he contacted you?’ Ben asked as they cruised away from town.

‘He hasn’t.’ She hesitated. ‘I’m sure it’s a lot for him to think about.’ She caught a waft of the manly fresh shower gel Ben must’ve used. ‘Where are we off to?’ She needed a distraction from thinking about Ben and how good he smelt, how amazing he looked, not just today but every day they’d met up.

‘Well, whenever I could use a break, I head to the beach.’ Ben joined the freeway. ‘Fresh, salty air clears the head. So we’re on our way to Albert Park. It’s a little suburb with an amazing beach, a row of trendy cafés. You’ll love it.’

Her spirits lifted. She’d not been to the beach since she’d arrived in Australia, and beach went with the territory. She pushed her phone into her bag and put it down at her feet where she wouldn’t be tempted to check it again.

An hour later and they were following the smaller roads to take them to Albert Park. They crossed tramlines, the windows open to feel the change between freeway air, suburban air and finally beach air when they reached the main road running parallel to the water. Palm trees were spaced evenly, framing the road on either side, a pier jutted out into the water, roller-blading couples and friends cruised up and down the paths. A strip of grass separated either side of the road and enormous, hotel-like properties overlooked the ocean and lined the side of the road farthest from the water.

Molly was mesmerised by the beauty of the area. She sat taller in her seat to focus on the golden sands and the sea with its frothy white edging as the waves came in to shore. Ben slowed, looking for a parking space, but it seemed they were among the many who’d decided it was too beautiful a day not to be beside the ocean.

He turned into a side street. ‘I’ll park by the lake and then we’ll walk down this way. You got your walking shoes on?’

Molly looked down at her white Converse trainers. ‘Yup.’

A tram came to a halt in the middle of the road, and Ben pulled up before he was level with it. Once passengers had disembarked and were safely on the pavement at the other side and the tram trundled on its way, they continued.

‘This is Albert Park Lake,’ Ben announced when they pulled in to a car park. ‘Home of the Grand Prix.’

She nodded, impressed. ‘It looks too peaceful.’

‘It’s completely transformed every year,’ he told her as he pulled into a vacant space. ‘You wouldn’t believe it now, would you?’ He leapt out and went to feed the meter.

The water glistened, framed with a backdrop of city buildings in the distance. Molly and Ben walked side-by-side, clockwise around the lake. They’d agreed to do a lap first before heading to the beach and right now, Molly couldn’t imagine anywhere more beautiful.

Following the path around the lake’s perimeter, Ben said, ‘This is almost as relaxing as the beach. More so in some ways.’

‘It’s away from the crowds,’ Molly agreed.

‘Do you sail?’

‘I would’ve liked to learn, but it’s one of those things I never got around to. I did windsurf once.’

‘Yeah?’

‘Lots of fun.’

‘You stayed on the board?’

‘Eventually. It took a bit of practice. I learnt on a lake, and I think it’s the only reason I managed to stay upright as much as I did. The water was a lot calmer.’ She followed Ben along a thinner winding path, past a small building, until they were beside the water once more. The temperature was perfect. It had rained during the night, more than a gentle pitter-patter on the cottage roof, and she’d thought today was going to be one of those days spent in warm clothes and a waterproof, but as soon as she’d woken and seen the sun streaming through the gap in the curtains, she knew she was in for a great day. There was a slight breeze, but the sun refused to bow down to the autumn season and it kissed Molly’s skin as they followed the path around the water’s edge.

‘I’ve never been into water sports,’ Ben told her as he watched the teenagers in the boat sail past skilfully, not too close to the edge, aware of another sailing boat close by. ‘I do, on the other hand, love to ski.’

‘Ski?’

‘What, you think all Aussies can do is barbecue and lay on the beach and tan?’

She grinned, because she’d pictured exactly that. ‘Do you go over to New Zealand? My brother tells me the skiing there is amazing.’

‘I’ve been a couple of times but not for a while. The most recent skiing has been in Victoria.’

‘As in Victoria, Australia? You’re kidding.’

‘Nope. You can drive from Magnolia Creek to Mount Hotham in less than three hours.’

‘No way.’

He seemed amused by her surprise. ‘The ski season is June to September, our winter.’

‘I can’t believe I never knew that.’ Molly shook her head and laughed. ‘I never, ever thought you could ski in Australia. It seems to go against what we expect Australia to be like.’

‘Have you ever skied?’

She shook her head, and as they meandered around the lake with the sun on their backs at first and then shining directly in their faces, Ben told Molly about various skiing expeditions, one of which had resulted in a broken leg.

‘I was showing off,’ he admitted. ‘Trying to impress a girl.’

‘Sounds about right.’ She grinned to show she was jesting. ‘Does it ever snow in Magnolia Creek?’

‘Very occasionally. Usually we get a ground frost and it can be a bit icy, but generally we get away with only having the dark, the damp and the rain.’

A black swan glided through the water, and Molly could all of a sudden imagine how this could become the setting for the Grand Prix. The lake wasn’t a uniform shape and the roads surrounding it had bends, curves only the most skilled drivers would be able to negotiate at high speed. She wondered what happened to the wildlife. Did the swans hide out somewhere? Were they rescued and kept safe during the event?

‘What’s that building?’ She pointed across the road as they came full circle to where they’d parked.

‘It’s the Aquatic Centre. It has an awesome Olympic-size, outdoor swimming pool. Maybe we could go sometime.’

Molly’s heart both leapt and plummeted, the former because he wanted to see her again, the latter because this wasn’t going anywhere. But one thing had worked today, his plan to bring her away from Magnolia Creek and get some distance from the Bennetts. She hadn’t even inhaled the salty sea air of the beach yet, but she felt totally relaxed and hadn’t given a second thought to checking her phone.

Completing their circuit of the lake, they made their way down to the beach where the salty sea breeze coming off the water wrapped around them with every step they took. She removed her Converse trainers and followed Ben onto the sand, letting the granules massage her feet as they walked, weaving past people enjoying the last few beach days of autumn. They admired some serious sandcastle construction from two twin boys armed with spades, forks and different
shaped buckets.

‘So,’ said Ben, pulling his hoodie off over his head. Molly didn’t miss the glimpse of his stomach as he did so, the line of dark hair running down, the toned muscles, which spoke of activity and a healthy lifestyle. ‘How are you feeling?’

When Ben gestured for her to sit down on the hoodie, she did so. He sat down too, although they were incredibly close given the size of the clothing. She was nervous all of a sudden, an unexpected feeling she hadn’t experienced much with Ben until now.

‘About the Bennetts?’ she asked for clarification.

‘The reason you’re here, yes.’

Looking out over the ocean, brave kite surfers battled the rougher conditions down towards St Kilda. ‘Ever tried it?’ She nodded to one guy as his red and black sail caught the wind, his body below straining against the force as he glided across the water.

‘I don’t think it’s my thing.’

She laughed. ‘Windsurfing was hard enough. That looks impossible.’

‘Stop avoiding the question anyway,’ said Ben.

‘I’m not avoiding it. I’m simply choosing not to answer.’ A refreshing spray from the ocean flecked her face when the breeze blew the right way. ‘I’m not sure how he feels.’

‘Andrew?’

‘This is a big shock for him, not to mention the rest of the family, and with his father sick … God, I really don’t know. I mean, it was my choice to do things this way. But if it’s all going to fall apart at the seams, I’d rather it happened sooner than later.’

‘Do you think it’ll all go wrong?’

Molly shrugged. ‘There’s a flicker of hope it’ll all work out, that he’ll want to get to know who I am and become a part of my life, no matter how big or small. But at the same time, I’m looking at it negatively, trying to prepare myself for the worst.’

Ben drew his knees in to his chest and wrapped his arms around them. ‘I think it was right for you to get out of Magnolia Creek for today.’ He grinned at her. ‘The last thing you want to do is become some weirdo stalker.’

As Molly relaxed, a smile spread across her face.

‘Give him a couple of days,’ advised Ben, ‘and if he doesn’t get in touch, give him a nudge and see where he’s at.’

They watched the kite surfers some more, admiring their skill, and when Ben stood and held out a hand, Molly took it and he pulled her up. For a moment she was so close she could feel his breath in her hair, the warmth coming from his chest beneath the black T-shirt.

‘Come on, let’s walk.’ Ben moved from the dry sand to damp and then wet as they got closer to the shoreline.