Chapter FOURTEEN
‘I THOUGHT you had the day off today.’ Jack stopped in the bedroom doorway, surprised to see Liz up and dressed.
‘I have, but I wanted to get around to visit a few people.’ She sounded distracted as she bent to pull up the bedspread. ‘Sort of tidy up loose ends.’
‘I’ve got this.’ He twitched the heavy cover out of her hands and flung it up the bed. ‘Like who? Can’t it wait?’
‘No, it can’t wait. Look, if you’re going to make the bed, you need to do it properly.’
‘Liz.’ He reached out and stopped her from straightening the bedclothes. ‘I’ll do that in a minute. I know you didn’t sleep well again last night.
You should take the opportunity to rest today. Where are you going that’s so all fired important?’
‘Oh, I try not to disturb you when I get up.’ She looked at him guiltily. ‘I’m sorry.’
He shrugged. ‘I’ve heard you a couple of times, that’s all. Where are you going today?’
‘I want to see how Uncle Ron’s doing.’
‘Hell, Liz. The McLeods live miles out of town.’ He scowled down at her, seeing the bluish shadows beneath her eyes, the pale cheeks. The blooming good health she usually projected seemed to have faded overnight. ‘Why can’t I take you out there next weekend?’
‘I haven’t been out there for a couple of weeks. Besides, it’s not that far. And it’s not just them. I—I thought I might pop in and see Mum. If I have time.’ Her eyes slid away from his, making him wonder what she wasn’t telling him.
‘There’s no reason why I can’t take you there next weekend, too,’ he said, hard pressed to keep his tone neutral. Visiting Patrice…Not something he’d look forward to. Unfortunately, the only thing Liz’s mother and he agreed on was their mutual dislike for each other. Patrice believed her daughter had married beneath her station.
Liz’s face lit up with a cheeky grin, her hazel eyes twinkling at him. ‘Hmm, you must love me. Thank you, darling. I appreciate your offer, but I won’t do it to you.’ She sobered. ‘I—I haven’t arranged anything with Mum.’
‘You’re just going to drop in? On Patrice? Feeling masochistic, sweetheart?’
‘I didn’t want her making a big fuss.’ She braced her lower back and arched slightly. ‘I thought if I just called in that we could just have an informal chat about…some things.’
‘Why would you think that? It’s never worked in the past.’ He swallowed his frustration, not wanting to badger her.
‘I know. I thought…hoped today might be different.’ She looked so forlorn he couldn’t bring himself to say any more on the matter. But his instinct to protect was on high alert. If Patrice gave Liz a hard time, she’d answer to him.
‘Sure.’ He held out his arms. ‘Come here and let me do that for you.’
Liz came so willingly to him that his heart swelled with love.
He gripped her hips, digging his thumbs into the muscles at the top of her buttocks. She moaned softly.
‘Too hard?’
‘No. Too good.’ She sighed and rested her forehead on his shoulder.
He smiled and laid his cheek on her hair as he continued the rhythmic kneading. His petite wife was a real trouper, suffering the discomforts of her pregnancy with quiet dignity. Mostly her lack of complaint was because of the type of person she was. But he was sure part of it was because of his initial resistance to starting a family. She didn’t want to bother him. Although he’d done his best to reassure her since he’d come home from the States, he had the feeling she wasn’t entirely convinced he was going to stay.
How she could doubt him was a mystery. Didn’t she realise she was part of him? He’d be lost without her in his life. She’d rescued him from his superficial, love-’em-and-leave-’em roundabout, given him a richness he couldn’t begin to put a value on.
Hopefully, time would take care of her uncertainty. In the meantime, he would have to take care of her. As much as she’d let him.
Liz wasn’t absolutely sure why she hadn’t forewarned her mother of her intention to visit. She’d told Jack she wanted it to be informal, which was true. But as she drove through town, she wondered if she might be hoping the short notice would surprise a genuine response from her buttoned-up parent.
Twenty minutes later, Liz pulled up in her mother’s driveway and turned off the ignition. Doubts crowded in now that she was here. Was she really prepared for this confrontation? The problem with surprising people was that you didn’t always get the results you expected…or wanted.
She sat for long moments, examining the clean lines of her mother’s formal garden. Beautiful but untouchable. Tiny hedges perfectly trimmed into geometric patterns, plants chosen for size and colour. And tractability. They were yes plants.
Her mother had tried to trim and prune her offspring into shape with secateurs of carefully meted-out doses of affection and approval.
But children weren’t passive botanical specimens. She and her younger brother had burst out in unexpected directions. Mark, the heir destined to carry the Dustin name, refused to grow up, refused to marry, instead regularly throwing himself into the path of danger with his extreme sports.
Liz’s own rebel ion had been more subtle, starting with her career and then her marriage to Jack with his working-class Scottish background.
But choosing him hadn’t been a deliberate act of mutiny. She’d laid eyes on him and wanted him immediately. still did. She was lucky—he’d wanted her right back.
But while that seemed to be a reasonable basis for a relationship, did it work for a marriage? Even more important, was it a good foundation to be parents?
They’d both had examples of what not to do, especially Jack with his drug-addicted mother. Janet’s behaviour had been patently flawed.
But Liz was beginning to wonder if her own family issues were more insidious. On the surface, she’d had a stable upbringing with both parents.
But her father had provided the necessities—no more. Her mother, on the other hand, had done all the right things and had been seen to do them.
It dawned on her that her parents had never been a team. Never united through any of the domestic crises. Never made any spontaneous gestures of affection or support toward each other.
Perhaps that’s what she’d reacted to as a child, what she’d missed in her family. And why she’d craved acknowledgment from her parents, especially her father. He’d never said he loved her, that he was proud of her. She’d have done anything to wring some emotion from him other than indifference.
Was her drive to make Jack prove he’d be a caring father a result of the separateness she’d sensed in her parents’ marriage?
She needed to understand the emotional core of her family. But how did she find the right questions to ask? All she knew was some instinct She needed to understand the emotional core of her family. But how did she find the right questions to ask? All she knew was some instinct had driven her here today to make the effort. If she didn’t, she might be doomed to repeating the patterns with her own children. And that was unacceptable.
Liz rubbed her hand over her stomach. She mustn’t make the same mistakes. Love had to be unconditional. Her own behaviour had to change.
She’d begun to realise how conditional she’d made her love for Jack. First on having children, then by trying to dictate the type of father he’d be.
Gathering her bag, she pushed open the door. She had to deal with one thing at a time. Right now, she’d find out about her family.
She stood for a moment beside the car, rubbing her lower back. The beneficial effects of Jack’s massage had worn off and the muscles felt tired and achy.
‘Elizabeth.’
‘hello, Mum.’ Liz turned to face the owner of the cool voice.
‘This is a surprise.’ A small, unsmiling silence that spoke volumes.
Liz could feel herself wanting to retreat, wishing she hadn’t come. Bracing herself, she kept her smile blandly pleasant. ‘I was passing so I thought I’d drop in.’
‘I saw you sitting in the car. I was beginning to think you weren’t going to come in.’
Liz wondered how long her mother had been watching. Had she been hoping her daughter would just drive away?
‘You’re lucky you caught me home.’ Patrice stripped off her gardening gloves, plucking each finger forcefully.
‘Are you on your way out, Mum?’
‘No. But I might have been and then you’d have had a wasted trip. You’d better come in.’
Her mother led the way through to the back of the house. Liz followed slowly, walking past the familiar rooms with an odd sense of detachment.
Everything was formal, spotless, rigidly tidy and decorated in pale colours that showed every mark from tiny grubby fingers. Even the carpet had pile designed to show every scuff from small running feet. Nothing had been changed for years. Hard to believe two children had grown up in this house.
Liz realised her arm had curled protectively over her pregnant stomach.
‘Would you like something to drink?’
The discouraging tone nearly made Liz smile.
‘Don’t make anything especially.’ She propped herself on the stool by the bench to give her tired legs a quick rest. Today was obviously going to be a physically difficult one. ‘I’m on my way out to the McLeods’ place.’ Liz could have bitten her tongue.
‘I see.’ Her mother washed and dried her hands before asking, ‘And how are Ronald and Margaret?’
‘Aunty Peg’s a Trojan. And Uncle Ron’s as well as can be expected.’
‘I don’t know why you’re so familiar with them, Elizabeth,’ the older woman said with distaste. ‘It’s not as if they’re really your family.’
‘They’re Jack’s family, Mum, therefore they are mine. And they treat me as part of their family so that’s what counts.’ Standing firm felt good, right.
‘Hmph. Well, I suppose you’ll do as you see fit.’ She sniffed. ‘I can’t imagine what’s possessed Margaret to let Ronald stay at home at this stage of his ill ness. And it’s dragging on dreadfully.’
‘Being at home has perked Uncle Ron up. He’s decided he wants to stay around a bit longer. There was nothing more that we could do for him in the hospital,’ said Liz, feeling obliged to defend his decision.
‘Yes, but he could have stayed there with the nurses to look after him rather than expecting his wife to do it.’
‘But she wants to. And they have their daughter staying as well. She’s a qualified nurse. It’s what he wanted, Mum.’ Though she didn’t want to continue the discussion, Liz had a feeling of sick inevitability that it would lead to the questions she did want to ask. ‘That’s important, don’t you think?’
‘It hardly matters what I think, does it?’
‘You’d have done the same for Dad, wouldn’t you?’ Liz wondered if she really believed that. Or did she just want it to be true?
‘Heavens! The questions you ask, Elizabeth.’ With the kettle plugged in, the older woman set out two mugs before arranging biscuits in a perfect fan around the edge of a plate. ‘It’s a moot point since your father died the way he did.’
‘Yes.’ Her father had had the good sense to die quickly from a massive heart attack. Tidily, barely disrupting his wife’s garden club schedule.
Liz pushed the treacherous thought away.
Her mother had never been a warm, affectionate woman. Liz wanted desperately to be different with her own children. But did she know how?
All those years she’d studied to be a doctor, but could she learn how to nurture her daughter’s spirit? Teach her to be whole and happy and independent?
Put to the test, Liz wondered if she would prove to be just as cold as her parents.
‘Did Dad want children?’
‘Want them? What’s that got to do with anything? The Dustins were a very influential family in the area.’
‘Yes, I know.’ She fought to keep any hint of censure out of her voice. The family’s social position had been imprinted on her throughout her childhood. But bringing it into the conversation didn’t tell her what she wanted to know about her father. ‘I just wondered because I don’t remember him ever playing with us when we were kids. Not even with Mark.’
Or hugging us, or coming to school plays, or sports days, or even kissing us goodnight.
‘Your father was a busy man.’
The answer was unsatisfactory and yet maybe it was all there was to be gleaned here. In the silence that followed, Liz swallowed her disappointment.
‘I’m your mother, Elizabeth. I didn’t need him to be involved. Raising you was my job.’ The older woman looked surprised at the information she’d volunteered. She shook her head and adjusted the position of the teapot with small jerky movements.
In a moment of cold clarity, Liz suddenly understood her instinct to block Jack’s involvement with their baby. If she continued, she’d ruin a potentially beautiful and loving relationship between Jack and his daughter. She’d begun to suspect her own behaviour, but to have it presented to her like this was a shock.
‘No, Mum, I guess you didn’t.’
But what about me? She wanted to rail against the isolation she’d felt from her father. If things had been different, would he have wanted to be involved with his children?
‘Was your marriage to Dad a happy one?’ Liz knew how it had looked from her point of view, but now she wanted to know how it had been from her mother’s side. If her parents had believed they were happy then what did it matter how it seemed to someone else?
‘Happy?’ Her mother looked startled, as though the concept was completely alien.
The kettle screamed.
‘Yes. Did Dad make you happy?’ Even to her own ears there was a desperate quality to the question. ‘You must have been in love when you got married.’
The silence stretched as Patrice spooned tea leaves into the pot and added boiling water. She kept her eyes focussed on the cups on the bench then reached out to align the handles of the cups.
Was she hoping the question would go away? Liz wondered with grim amusement.
‘Mum?’
‘Oh, for heaven’s sake.’ Her mother gave an exasperated sigh. ‘Perhaps it’s time you knew. What I was when I got married, Elizabeth, was pregnant.’
‘Yes, I know, but—’
‘How do you know?’ Her mother’s face flushed and then went chalky white. ‘I never told you. Your father certainly wouldn’t have told you.’
‘Simple arithmetic. I worked it out in high school. But surely…that’s not why you got married?’
Her mother’s mouth pinched unattractively.
Liz’s heart lurched as she tried again. ‘Well, not the only reason. Mum?’
‘It’s really none of your business.’
‘Well, yes, I think it might be my business,’ said Liz slowly. ‘We were never a cosy, loving family and I need to understand why not. You see, that’s what I want for my child. A cosy, loving family.’
Her mother glared at her. ‘Children need discipline and stability, not wishy-washy sentiments.’
‘I think they need both.’ She thought again of Jack’s traumatic upbringing and what he’d had to conquer to become the man she’d married. ‘I think they especially need to know they’re loved and wanted for themselves.’
‘Are you telling me your father and I didn’t do a good job of bringing you up?’ Patrice’s voice was scratchy and high with tension.
‘No, I’m—’
‘You and your brother are both well-educated adults. And you have a useful career, don’t you? One that you wanted.’ Knuckles gleamed whitely in her mother’s clenched fists. ‘Who was it who put you through medical school and made that possible?’
‘You and Dad. But—’
‘You’re very lucky, aren’t you, Elizabeth? With your doting husband and your career and now your tidy little pregnancy and plans. It will be interesting to see how you juggle your precious career and marriage once you have a child.’
Liz took in a shaky breath, feeling the fine tremors in her muscles from the adrenalin charging around her system. She seemed to have pushed her mother into uncharacteristic candour. The brutal honesty of the words was exposing so many of her own fears that Liz quailed momentarily. But if she wanted to know anything, now was the time to ask.
She met her mother’s eyes across the bench. ‘You didn’t want children? You and Dad? Was Dad angry when you got pregnant?’
‘Don’t be naive, Elizabeth. Your father was a lot like you. He was fond of tidy little plans, too. I ruined them.’
‘But attitudes towards pregnancy weren’t so dogmatic then, were they?’ Liz forced the words out of her dry mouth. ‘Didn’t you both have other options?’
‘Your father was a Dustin in a country town named after his forebears, Elizabeth. His mother made sure he did the right thing. There was no other option.’
‘I see. I—I don’t think I’ll have time for that cup of tea after all, Mum.’ Liz managed a tight smile. ‘I’ll see myself out.’
She was running away. Her system felt battered by the confrontation. Emotional pain lanced through her with such strength that it manifested physically, leaving her so nauseous that her abdomen ached. She’d judged Jack unprepared for parenthood but suddenly her own inadequacy seemed insurmountable.
Her hand trembled as she slotted the key into the ignition. She wanted to go home, curl up on the bed and forget the morning.
More than anything she wanted Jack. But how could she turn to him right now? She’d trapped him as surely as her mother had trapped her father. The enormity of what she’d done would overwhelm any comfort she might derive from his reassurance. What hope did the future hold for them with these handicaps from the past?
She drove slowly, glad of the concentration demanded by the winding road through to the McLeods’ property. Aunty Peg’s undisciplined garden seemed to tumble across the ground to greet her as she pulled up in the driveway.
She sat for a moment, enjoying the sprawling friendliness before scrambling out of the car with her bag.
‘Liz!’ A large elderly woman in overalls hurried along the path towards her. A moment later Liz was enveloped in a huge hug from Jack’s great-aunt.
‘Aunty Peg.’ The warm welcome brought quick tears to her eyes.
‘It’s grand to see you.’ The woman stepped back and held her at arm’s length. ‘You’re looking bonnie as usual, lass. A little peaky mebbe. Is that grandnephew of mine looking after you now? He was up here last week, organising his boys to do some burning off for us. But what’re you doing way out here with this storm brewing? I’ve just had Jack on the phone, trying to find you.’
For the first time Liz became aware of the iron-grey clouds boiling across the sky. She suppressed a shiver. How had she not noticed the change earlier? Had it so matched her dark mood she’d been oblivious?
‘Och, and here’s me not taking a breath so you can answer me. Come through and see Ron. Have you time to have a brew with us, then?’
‘That would be lovely.’ Bag in hand, she walked up the path with the elderly woman.
‘How have you been feeling?’
‘I’m slowing down, Aunty Peg.’
‘Little wonder. It can’t be long now.’
‘Another three weeks.’
‘That long? I’d be surprised. The babe’s dropped. Och, but you don’t need me to tell you that.’
‘I think this will definitely be my last visit before the baby comes.’ She rested her hand on her stomach.
‘Aye. I think so, too.’ Aunty Peg ushered her into the small cluttered entrance. Delicious smells of fresh baking greeted them. ‘Go through to the lounge, Liz. I just need to wash up.’
Liz walked down the dark, narrow hallway and paused in the lounge doorway a moment to appreciate the view out the huge picture window that dominated the room. Stormclouds shrouded the hills, blocking the usual view of the distant mountains.
‘Ron!’ bell owed Aunty Peg from the other end of the hall. ‘Look who’s come to see you, then.’
A gnome-like face appeared around the edge of a recliner.
‘Lizzie! How’s my favourite doctor?’
‘I’m good, Uncle Ron. How’s my favourite patient?’
‘Top of the world, lass. I feel like an auld fraud with everyone’s fussing.’
‘Since I’m here I might as well check you over.’ Liz methodically ran through her examination. Focussing on the routine task restored her equilibrium and she was delighted to find Jack’s great-uncle much better than expected.
‘You’re getting plenty of rest?’ She packed up her gear as Aunty Peg pushed the tea trol ey into the room.
‘Och, why would I want to be doing that, Lizzie, lass? Plenty of time for that.’ His lined face wrinkled into a puckish grin. ‘Got to enjoy life while I can, don’t I?’
‘You do.’ She popped a kiss on his forehead.
Liz sat, enjoying a cup of tea, listening to the gentle banter between the couple.
‘It’s our fifty-third wedding anniversary next month,’ said Ron.
‘Och, she knows that. Do you no’ remember she met our Jack at our fiftieth?’
‘So I did.’ Liz looked at the beaming faces of her unlikely cupids. Did she and Jack have the staying power to see such a milestone in their marriage?
Jack. Suddenly, she wanted the hug she’d felt so undeserving of after her visit with her mother.
‘I’d better go.’ She put her cup on the coffee table. Bracing her back, she stood carefully, huffing out a breath at the discomfort that caused her lower body.
‘Liz, are you sure you should be driving, lass? Can I no’ ring Jack and get him to come for you?’
‘No, thanks, Aunty Peg. It’ll only take me a bit over half an hour to get home.’
‘Och, closer to an hour. But I suppose there’s no arguing with you, is there? There’s a box on your passenger seat with eggs and fresh veggies.
I’ve put a parcel of nappies there as well from my last grandchild. They’re all freshly laundered for you. And there’s a wee present for the bairn, lass,’
the elderly woman said as they walked out to the vehicle.
‘Oh, thank you, Aunty Peg. You’re very kind. I should open it before I go.’
‘No, you should not. Unless you’ll change your mind and let me get that bonnie man of yours up here to take care of you.’
Liz hesitated briefly, but some instinct was pushing her on. She had to get to Jack. She needed him. Waiting didn’t feel right. She had to keep moving.