The January Wish (31 page)

‘I hope you’ll keep it up,’ Lillian said.

‘I don’t think I’ll be able to stop now. I have eighteen years of unsung music waiting to be born.’ Sylvia smiled. ‘When I got home last night I thought about how powerful music can be, and I want to do something with it to help people who are sick. Maybe visit the nursing home and play for the residents, and I could go to the children’s oncology ward at the hospital too.’

Lillian’s face lit up. ‘And you could even teach the children some basic tunes on a keyboard,’ she said.

‘Good idea. And you know, I might talk to Joyce and my colleagues about having relaxing music playing at the clinic, instead of that daytime TV rubbish,’ Sylvia said.

Lillian sat there with Sylvia at the picnic table, looking into her eyes. ‘It’s good to see your spark back.’

‘My spark?’

‘The spark you had when you were younger, before you had Grace. The spark you had when you’d show us the new compositions you’d created. You were meant to be a doctor Sylvia, but you were also meant to play the piano. It’s part of you, just like it was for me.’

Sylvia looked at her mother’s arthritic hands. ‘Are you sure you can’t fit the piano at your place, Mum? I’m sure we could squeeze it in somewhere.’

‘No, it should stay at your place, you’ll get more use out of it now than me. I’d rather only play if I can play
well
. But I’m afraid my time has been and gone,’ Lillian said, rubbing her knobbly fingers.

Sylvia pursed her lips to one side. ‘Actually, I know something that might be able to help with your arthritis.’

‘But I’m already doing everything you’ve suggested.’

‘Yes, but I haven’t suggested acupuncture or herbal medicine yet,’ Sylvia replied.

Lillian eyed Sylvia curiously. ‘Who are you and what have you done with my daughter?’

Sylvia laughed. ‘Let’s just say, I’ve had a few eye-opening experiences this year.’

‘Well, it’s getting worse, so I’ll do anything.’

Sylvia opened up her purse and took out a business card, handing it to her mother. ‘He’s away at the moment, but give him a call in a couple of weeks and see what he says. I don’t know if you’ll be able to come back to Tarrin’s Bay often enough, but if anything, he might be able to point you in the direction of someone closer who could help.’

‘I’ll do that, thank you.’ Lillian winked at Sylvia. ‘I just won’t tell your father.’

Sylvia smiled, and looked at her father, tossing a crumb to the birds, talking and laughing with Grace. He looked different somehow, less rigid. More…at ease.

‘Your father would never tell you this, Sylvia, but last night he asked me if I thought he’d been right in encouraging you to give up Grace for adoption.’

‘He did?’

Lillian nodded, then looked down. ‘And I have to wonder the same thing myself.’

‘Mum, what’s done is done. And she’s here now.’

‘Yes, but if we hadn’t been so…insistent about it,
would
you have made the same decision?’

Sylvia thought back to the shock of her positive pregnancy test; those two pink lines that silently told her she was expecting a baby. Two potential realities awaited her: life as a single teenage mother, frowned upon by others, her dreams of being a doctor shattered. Or, life as she had always planned it—top of the class in medical school and a rewarding, important career, her daughter being raised by two parents who wanted her desperately. ‘Yes, I would have made the same decision,’ Sylvia said. Although whether Grace would have chosen it, she wasn’t sure. It can’t have been easy, being different to the other kids, not knowing where she came from.

Lillian placed her hand gently on Sylvia’s and nodded, relief on her face. ‘I’m sorry we’ve become so distant. We’ll make the effort to visit more often.’

‘It’s okay, I’ve been distant too. And I’ll make the effort to visit
you
more often.’ Sylvia removed her hand from under her mother’s and curved it around her mother’s back, Lillian leaning in and resting her head on Sylvia’s shoulder.

* * *

After saying goodbye to her grandparents, and eagerly accepting their offer of free accommodation whenever she visited Sydney, Grace began walking up the hill to Lookout Point where she was to meet up with Jonah. A cool breeze resisting her forward movement, she wrapped her scarf in an extra circle around her neck.

At a park bench under a naked skeletal tree, she saw him. Elbows resting on his knees, and hands clasped together, looking out at the wide expanse of ocean. So still, which was unlike Jonah. Grace veered off the footpath and onto the grass, and when her footsteps neared him, he turned around and stood, his smile warming her deep inside. She smiled too, and in that moment wanting nothing more than to wrap herself around him and stay close to him forever.

‘So, you’ve forgiven me?’ he asked.

Grace nodded. ‘I understand why you kept it from me, and I’m flattered actually.’

‘And have you had time to make a decision, about coming overseas with me?’ Jonah held onto her hands and swung them gently from side to side.

Grace tightened her grip on his hands, stilling the movement. ‘Jonah, I’d love to…’

The downward tone in her voice communicated her conflicting emotions, and though defeated, he smiled. ‘But?’

‘But…I can’t.’ Grace looked away, then back at him. ‘It’s
so
tempting, believe me. I thought about it last night, about running off overseas with you, seeing the world. And I almost called you then and there to say yes, but it just isn’t right for me, not now. And then I thought maybe I could go for a month or two and fly back on my own, but I knew if I went, I wouldn’t want to leave, and that would be even harder.’

Jonah stood silently, nodding, his lips clamped together in reluctant acceptance.

‘After performing last night, I realised that’s what I want. I want to live and breathe music. I’ve been holding back so long, scared of getting sick again, and I can’t do it anymore. I have to pursue my dreams, and make the most of being well. Who knows what’ll happen down the track, but I can’t live in fear anymore.’ Grace fought back tears, but a rogue one escaped.

‘I wanted so much for you to come with me, but you’re right, you have a gift and you need to make a go of it.’ Jonah wiped the tear from Grace’s cheek with his thumb.

‘I’ve decided to audition for the Sydney Conservatorium of Music,’ Grace said. ‘In November.’

Jonah’s eyes widened. ‘Wow. You’ll get in for sure, I know it.’

Grace shrugged. ‘We’ll see, but I hope so. I’ve been looking at the website and I’m really excited.’

‘If you perform anything like you did last night you’ll blow them away,’ Jonah said. ‘And you’ve got the complete package—the skill,
and
the looks.’

Grace smiled, and ran her finger around his jawline, taking in a deep breath. ‘I’m going back to Melbourne next week to stay with Dad until my audition. I want to spend as much time as I can with him before I move to Sydney, that is,
if
I get in.’

‘You’ll get in.’

‘Sylvia’s coming with me, just for a few days. She wants to meet my dad,’ Grace continued. ‘So, it looks like I won’t be back this way until November, and by then…you’ll be gone.’ Another tear escaped Grace’s eye, and as she looked down, it dropped to the ground before Jonah could wipe it away. When she looked up, Grace saw that Jonah’s eyes were red and glossy, and his lips were clamped tighter together than before.

‘I’ll miss you, Grace Forrester.’ He pulled her close and kissed her with such emotion that Grace felt she would have collapsed had it not been for his arms wrapped tightly around her. She didn’t want it to stop, knowing it would be their last kiss, her mind trying hard to store the memory of the moment.

‘I won’t forget you,’ Grace said as they reluctantly pulled away, arms still entwined around each other.

‘I won’t forget you either,’ Jonah replied. ‘How could I? You’ll be a household name before too long, and I’ll be in the audience for one of your sell-out shows, that’s for sure.’

‘I might even write a piece of music about you.’

‘You would?’

‘Yeah, I reckon I will. But I won’t let you hear it until one of my ‘sell-out-shows’, so you’ll have to try and guess which one it is,’ Grace said.

‘So you won’t be calling it something obvious like
The Most Amazing Guy In The World
?’ Jonah grinned.

‘Ha ha, no. Sorry. It’ll be something cryptic. Although
Geek at Heart
might be a good title.’ Grace giggled.

Jonah tickled her under the arms. ‘Don’t you dare expose my secret!’

Laughing and wriggling, Grace urged him to stop. ‘I promise, I won’t. I promise!’

‘You sure?’ Jonah intensified his tickling attack, until he succumbed to her protests and enveloped her in his arms again. His warm breath on her neck masked the cool breeze as it leapt up from the ocean.

‘So I guess this is goodbye,’ Grace said.

‘For now. I’m sure you won’t be able to stay away from Tarrin’s Bay forever.’

‘I’ll visit often, I’m sure.’

‘Well, when I get back from overseas and go back to work, I’ll be sure to keep a
morange and ango juice
chilled for you.’ Jonah winked.

Grace laughed at the memory. ‘Will it be
squeshly freezed
?’ she asked.

‘Nothing but the real deal for you, Grace.’ He kissed her one last time, briefly, as though to not dilute the passionate one from before.

Grace wanted to tell Jonah how much he’d meant to her, how much more magical this year had been because of him, and how he was her first real love. But now seemed the most appropriate time to leave. She wanted to remember him as he was now, smiling and joking around. Sure, they might see each other again someday, but as Grace knew all too well, life could change in an instant, and nothing was guaranteed. So she took a step backwards, and then another, her hands still holding his, until they dropped away gently and the only thing connecting them to each other was the gaze of their unblinking eyes. She didn’t look away until the hard surface of the footpath met her feet. And as Jonah waved and flashed his delicious smile, Grace turned and walked down the hill, engraving the memory of his eyes in her mind alongside the memory of his kiss, the warm tingle of it still lingering on her lips.

‘Olivia was sad to see you leave Mrs May’s, Grace. She said you were the best sales assistant they’d had.’ Sylvia walked with Grace down the pebbled path leading into the cemetery, an icy Melbourne wind throwing their hair all about.

‘I’ll miss it, and them. I feel bad leaving on such short notice, but with it being the anniversary of Mum’s death, I thought now would be the best time to come back here,’ Grace said. ‘And anyway, my friend Lauren is looking for casual work, so I got her an interview at the bookstore.’

Although she was coping well, Sylvia had noticed the deep sadness in Grace’s eyes this morning as they’d eaten breakfast at the hotel. They’d been to the theatre the night before, and were going to be spending a few days together in the city. Then she’d leave Grace with her dad, and fly back to Sydney. Back to Tarrin’s Bay. Back to the life she wasn’t sure if Mark was still to be a part of. But work would keep her busy as usual, especially now that Mr Benson was out of hospital, he’d need more regular care. She’d felt bad leaving town for a few days, knowing Mr Benson would want to see her, but Dr Bronovski assured her he’d take care of him.

‘There he is,’ Grace said, pointing to a thin man with silvery hair, standing with his hands in his pockets in front of a grave. Grace ran towards him, her shoulder bag bouncing up and down, and he met her halfway with an enthusiastic embrace. ‘Sylvia, this is my dad, David. Dad, this is Sylvia,’ Grace said when Sylvia caught up with them.

What do you say to the man who raised your daughter? The man who’d fed and provided for her since birth, taught her how to ride a bike, consoled her when she was sick? Weariness surrounded his pale eyes, but an expression of kindness overshadowed it. You could tell by looking at him he was a decent man. A man who stood by his family and loved them unconditionally.

‘It’s so nice to meet you, David.’ Sylvia held out her hand, but he didn’t take it. He stretched out both his arms and welcomed her with a hug. At first, Sylvia’s shoulders stiffened, then softened as he whispered, ‘thank you’, in her ear. They might not have met before, but they were inextricably connected, and their combined love for Grace was powerful beyond measure.

Words seemed unnecessary as they walked over to the grave of Maria Forrester and laid down a bunch of flowers, staring at the headstone, as though waiting for some kind of response. Some sign that she knew they were there. Grace stood in between Sylvia and her father, and as she sobbed softly, Sylvia put a hand on her pulsing back. David did the same, though he was surely hurting too. Fallen leaves wafted around the headstone, gently lifted up and down by the wind, and the noise of the nearby city seemed to fade away. Although standing in front of the grave of a woman she’d never met, Sylvia felt she’d come to know Maria through Grace, and found herself becoming teary-eyed as well.

After a while, Grace straightened up and turned towards her father. ‘Dad, there’s something I want to give you. I was going to give it to you for Christmas, but I can’t wait till then.’ She led him to the comforting shelter of a nearby tree and as they sat on the small bench, Grace withdrew the memory album from her bag, handing it to her father. She’d shown Sylvia the album at the hotel. It was a beautiful monument in remembrance of Maria, and a promising reminder of the woman Grace had become. Sylvia had smiled at the photo of the sunflower Grace had drawn in the sand, that day they’d walked along the beach together.

David turned the pages of the album carefully, and Grace sat there smiling. Then she turned a few of the pages over and pointed to a picture, obviously eager to show her father. Sylvia didn’t know which picture they were looking at, but it made the corners of David’s mouth turn up. He spoke to her softly, before putting the album aside to embrace his daughter.

Sylvia turned away to give them privacy, and leaned over Maria’s grave to place down the single sunflower she’d brought with her. Silently, she thanked Maria. Thanked her for taking care of Grace, for loving her, for being the mother Sylvia wasn’t able to be back then. She wished she could hug her the way she’d hugged David, but she couldn’t. She simply placed a hand on the cold, rough headstone, and somehow hoped to communicate just how thankful she was that her daughter had been well cared for. Maria’s life may not have been long, but Sylvia knew it would have been fulfilling, having Grace in it. And suddenly Sylvia felt a strong sense of responsibility, that although she wasn’t taking Maria’s place, she
was
taking on a new role in Grace’s life. At sixteen, it wasn’t her time. But now, at thirty-five, it was.