The Year of Chasing Dreams (6 page)

Eden had waited until after the holidays to make the trip to the southern hemisphere, where it was already summer. She wouldn’t miss Tennessee’s winter, would miss Ciana and Alice Faye and yes, the routine of the new life she had at Bellmeade. Garret seemed so eager for her to come, and true to his word, he’d wired money to her to help with the long and costly trip, while she had dipped into her bank account for the visit. He’d called once, and hearing his voice had given her goose
bumps: that broad Aussie accent, the quick laughter, friendly and charming words.

Yes, he was almost well from his bout with sickness … living at home, still rebuilding his strength. And yes, she wanted to wait to tell him the details about her rush to leave Italy. And he was really sorry about Arie’s death, news he’d learned through Colleen. And Eden felt bad that she had lost touch until now.

When the plane touched down on the runway in Sydney, it was midmorning of the day after she’d left Nashville. Hard to get her head around that she was almost a day ahead and ten thousand miles away from home. She slogged through customs, passport, and visa checkpoints, picked up her luggage, and headed toward signs that read
WAY OUT
. Tired as she was, her nerves were tight as a bowstring. Apprehension had turned her hands icy cold.

Garret was the first person she saw when she exited into the public space of the airport. His bushy blond hair was closely shorn and he looked thin, almost gaunt in the face, but he was still broad-shouldered, and wearing a smile that could thaw Arctic ice.

He pulled her into his arms, kissed her forehead. “You’re a sight for my eyes. A feast,” he said. “Let me take a good long look at ya.” His eyes swept over her while he smoothed her cheek with the palm of his hand, his touch like a balm. Her long-held tension let go of her.

“Are you all well?” she asked.

“I am now that you’re here,” he said with a disarming smile. He took her bags. “Let’s get you out of here. Me mum is waiting in the parkin’ garage. She insisted on driving, and it’s her car, and how’s a bloke supposed to grab the keys from his own mum?”

In the parking garage, he walked her to a small blue car, where a woman hopped out and extended her hand. “I’m Garret’s mum, Margaret Locklin, but my friends call me Maggie. So glad to meet you, Eden.” Her voice was bubbly, almost jovial. Her hair was a mass of curls, just like Garret’s when Eden had first met him.

“Thank you for having me,” Eden said, hoping her manners were intact after the mind-numbing journey.

Maggie laughed. “Garret said you spoke Southern. I
like
the sound of it.”

It hit Eden then that she was as much a foreigner here as in Italy. She was the person with the funny accent, not Garret. “Thank you,” she said again.

Once the luggage was in the trunk and passengers settled in the backseat, Maggie got behind the wheel and caught Eden’s eye. “Glad you’re here, and now that I see you, I understand why my lad’s been so keen for you to come,” she said, followed by Garret’s embarrassed mumble, “Oh Mum …” Eden listened to Maggie’s travelogue as she drove along the busy Sydney roads. She noted that in Australia cars drove on the opposite side of the road from cars in the States. “Always look left before stepping off a curb,” Maggie told her. “Or we’ll be visiting you in hospital.”

“I won’t let go of her, Mum,” Garret said, slipping Eden’s hand into his for the rest of the drive. Eventually the car entered a residential street lined with houses of many different architectural designs before turning up a driveway on a hill. The terraced yard was green with shrubs and flowering trees. The cream-colored house was ultramodern in design, with banks of windows and a red tile roof.

The inside of the house was just as lovely as the outside. Furniture was low and sleek, with glass-top tables amid a cluster
of seating areas. The house was spacious and multilevel, with short, wide stairs branching off from the foyer. “Sleeping wing this way,” Garret said, leading Eden up to the right and down a carpeted hall to a bedroom with a private bath. A large, long window across from the bed looked out over a pool and a view of the city below.

“Wow,” she said. “Beautiful place.”

He caught her around the waist and drew her against himself. “A beautiful girl. I want to hold you proper, Eden.” He lifted her chin and kissed her.

She snuggled into his embrace. Her heart filled with peace. She was once more in Garret’s arms, and all her doubts were swept away. Coming halfway round the world had been the right thing for her to do. Exactly the right thing.

That evening, Garret invited Tom and Lorna over for supper with his parents and Eden, and it took no time for her to feel comfortable with all of them. Trevor Locklin, Garret’s father, was a cheerful man, quick to smile and with a wicked sense of humor. And Tom and Lorna made her feel as if no time at all had passed since that last night together in Italy. Tom and Lorna had an apartment together, which was no surprise. They’d been inseparable in Italy. Both worked in the city and said their traveling days were behind them. “Time to settle down,” Lorna said. “Saving to get married.”

“A ways to go,” Tom said.

Lorna rolled her eyes at him, turned to Eden. “We’ll have you and Garret over for grilling on the barbie.”

“I grill a mean piece of crocodile,” Tom said with a wink. “Tastes better than chicken.”

Eden’s eyes widened and everyone laughed, making her blush.

“He means to say burgers,” Lorna said.

“One Aussie morsel at a time, and I’m first,” Garret said.

Later, after Garret shut the door on the company, he led Eden out to the patio and pool area carrying a bottle of wine and two wineglasses. The night air was cool and full of scents from perfumed flowers and eucalyptus trees. He pulled out chairs for them both, a lounge chair for Eden, a deck chair for himself. “I know you’re tired. The trip here is always a bugger. I’ll take you up to bed soon, but I just want to be alone with you for a little while. Do you mind?”

She was tired but still wound up from the trip. She wanted to be alone with him too. “Not ready for bed yet,” she said.

“Good. I’ve got a whole city to show you.” He poured them each a glass of wine.

On the trip she’d rehearsed many speeches to give him, but now that she was here, she wasn’t sure where to begin. “I owe you an explanation about not showing up that day at the fountain.”

“It can wait.”

“No. I want to tell you now.” She took a mouthful of the rich red wine, savored and swallowed it, let its warmth spread through her blood. “Arie got so sick in the middle of the night. We had to get her to a hospital right away. It was awful. All we had time to do was react.”

“I was disappointed when you didn’t show, but I wasn’t going to let you back out of coming along. I hopped on my scooter and zipped out to the villa to check on you.”

“You did?”

“Course I did. I’m not a bloke who gives up easy. I knew something bad had happened. I walked into that villa and
upstairs and saw all the blood. My heart about stopped. But I knew it wasn’t your blood because I knew which room was yours. I used to stand outside and look up at your window after you would kiss me goodnight, then bolt inside like a rabbit.”

“I didn’t bolt,” she said, knowing what he’d said was indeed true. She hadn’t wanted to get in over her head in a relationship coming on the heels of her ill-fated one with Tony. She’d tried to tell Garret about Tony, but he had always brushed aside talk of her past, saying it didn’t matter, so she’d dropped it. “I exited gracefully,” she added, raising her glass to him.

He grinned. “Point is, you left me outside cooling off and tied in knots, so I learned by watching window lights which room was yours. When I went to the villa that day, I knew there had been serious trouble.”

“Sometime in the night, Arie began vomiting blood. She had cancer—first when she was a child. It kept reoccurring. But after we graduated it was supposed to be in complete remission. The Italy trip was supposed to be a celebration.”

“Cancer! Bloody awful.” Garret shook his head. “She hid it well. None of us ever suspected she could have been ill.”

“She never told me or Ciana that she was out of remission when we began the trip. She wanted to go so much. I can’t blame her.” Remembering Arie’s excitement, her breakout joy, Eden felt tears arise. “We got home, but there was nothing her doctors could do for her. In truth, there probably never was.”

The night sounds gentled around the patio. The water lapping the sides of the pool, soft music coming from somewhere inside the house, reminded Eden of their evenings in Italy beside the fountain of Cortona. “Arie felt bad about me having to go home so suddenly without telling you. I had no way to reach you, Garret. I tried. The magazine you wrote for was defunct—”

“A shock to me too,” he interjected, refilling his glass.

“You weren’t on any of the social media sites I checked either.”

“Dad’s a Queen’s counselor, an attorney, works with the government. Never wanted me on such sites because of his job. Never wants the family too high-profile. How did you find me?”

“Arie. She had Colleen’s email address, but I didn’t know about it until months after she had died, until her mother found a letter she’d addressed to me. Colleen told me how you’d taken sick and come home. Scared me.”

“No fun time for me either. Had to give up my travel plans. But I’m better now. Specially now that you’re here.” He laced his fingers through hers. “I’ve missed you, Eden. Had no way to reach you either. A sorry oversight never to be repeated.”

The wine had done its work and sleepiness stole over her. She yawned. “I think I’m ready for bed now.”

“Pity I have to let you go to bed by yourself,” he said, standing and pulling her to her feet. He wrapped her in his arms, rested his chin on top of her head.

“You trying to seduce me, Aussie-man?”

“Of course I am. But for now I’ll just tuck you in.”

He walked her into her bedroom, where a small table lamp glowed on a bedside table. Garret touched the first button of Eden’s blouse. She gently pushed his hand away, smiled up at him. “I’ll take it from here.”

“I was afraid you’d say that.” His eyes twinkled impishly in the lamp’s light. “I’m glad you’re here. I want you to stay as long as you can. I want all of you, Eden.… I want what we couldn’t have in Italy.”

When she was alone, she turned off the lamp and snuggled under the clean and scented sheets. She wanted all of him too. But she reminded herself to go slow.

Eden awoke to sunlight and the smell of fresh coffee. She stretched luxuriously, felt a bit guilty for having slept in. She shook off the bedcovers, washed her face in the adjoining bathroom, and quickly dressed. She followed the scent of coffee down the hall, across the living room to the far side of the house, where she found Maggie working at the sink and Garret sitting at a white café-style table, surfing on a laptop. “G’day,” Eden said, using the familiar Australian greeting she’d heard from Garret many times in Italy.

“There she is,” Maggie said with a beaming smile. “Sleep well?”

Garret leaped up and pulled out a chair. “Was thinking you’d sleep away the day.”

“Oh posh,” his mother chided. “It’s barely nine in the morning. Get the girl some coffee. I’ve peeled some nice mangoes and I can whip up some eggs and bacon for you.”

“Just coffee for now.”

Garret poured Eden’s coffee and seated himself across from her. “Mum will stuff you like a calf if you let her.”

Eden took a sip, warmed her hands on the cup. “Ciana’s mother is the same way.”

“It’s in a mum’s DNA—” He was interrupted by a rap on the back door.

“Who in the world—?” Maggie started.

The door swung open and a very tall, pretty blond girl stepped inside with the confident air of one familiar with both the kitchen and the people. She quickly crossed to the table, bent down and kissed Garret on the cheek, straightened and looked directly into Eden’s face. “Hello there. You must be Garret’s American friend.” She held out her hand. “I’m Alyssa Bainbridge, Garret’s girlfriend.”