Liz was glad to reach the medical centre next morning after the chaos in her apartment. Mandy and Gary were heading off today, and her daughter had left it to the last moment to pack, seemingly unable to do so without behaving as if she were leaving for several months instead of two weeks.
The centre, with its rapid turnover of patients and the occasional emergency, seemed an oasis of calm after Mandy’s rushing around cursing when couldn’t find what she was looking for. Liz had been forced to bite her tongue to stop herself from reminding her daughter that she wouldn’t be having this problem if she’d put her belongings away in the first place. She dreaded to think what state the apartment would be in when she returned. But Mandy would never change. She was her daughter. And Liz loved her, even if she was sometimes difficult to cope with.
Liz was bringing the accounts up to date when her phone buzzed. She normally kept it on silent when she was at work, but this morning, she’d merely muted the tone in the hope Finn might contact her. He’d left so hurriedly yesterday there had been no mention of seeing each other again, and he had said…
She checked the screen to see a withheld number. When this happened, she usually ignored the call but this morning, something made her answer. Her heart leapt when she heard Finn’s voice. She’d never been in the newspaper office, but she could picture him, his glasses perched on his thatch of white hair, his lips turned up in the now familiar grin .
‘How are you this morning? Sorry I had to rush away.’
‘That’s fine, and I’m fine too.’ All the better for hearing your voice.
‘Are you free for lunch? I can manage to sneak out around one.’
‘I should be able to.’ Liz knew the reception desk had a full complement of staff today so she wouldn’t be required to fill in for anyone over lunch.
‘How about we meet in Books and Coffee ? It’s along from the newspaper. I can’t be away for long.’
‘That would work.’ Liz loved the combined bookshop and café. It was located on a corner with the bookshop entrance on one street and the café entrance on the other. Lou, the lovely woman who owned it and ran the bookshop part must be in her sixties but was as lively as many half her age. The café section was run by Ron and Denny, a gay couple whose witty repartee was well known, and whose cakes were to die for. It wasn’t too far from the medical centre, and the walk would do her good.
Knowing she was going to see Finn for lunch made the rest of Liz’s morning pass in a flash. Before she knew it, it was quarter to one, and time to go to meet Finn.
As Liz neared the venue, she could see him sitting at one of the outside tables reading a newspaper. She supposed it was part of his job to keep abreast with what all the other papers were reporting. Seeming to sense her approach, he looked up and rose, folding the paper as he did so.
‘Hey,’ he said softly, giving her a kiss on the cheek and sending shivers down her spine.
‘Hey,’ she replied, shocked at his effect on her after such a short time.
Finn held out a chair and Liz sat down, hoping he couldn’t see her trembling. She took a deep breath to calm herself. This was crazy.
‘What’ll you have?’ he asked. ‘I often eat here and can recommend the… What?’ he asked at her expression.
‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘It’s just… you sounded so…’ She laughed.
Finn laughed too. ‘ I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘You’ve probably eaten here before too. What would you like to order? Do you need a menu?’
Liz shook her head. ‘I love the bruschetta.’
‘Two bruschetta,’ he said, rising again to go in to order. ‘Coffee? ’
‘Cappuccino.’
‘I should have guessed. You look like a cappuccino lady.’
Before Liz could ask what he meant, he had gone inside. She picked up the paper he’d been reading, surprised to see it was a copy of The Crossing Courier.
‘You’re reading your own paper?’ she asked when he returned.
‘Someone has to,’ he laughed, then became more serious. ‘I like to reread it once it’s gone to press, see how we can improve the layout.’ He sighed. ‘The owners are a consortium who own a number of regional papers and are urging me to go completely digital, but I know a lot of our readers rely on the paper version. They’d be lost without it.’
‘You’re right.’ Liz thought of her mother who loved her local paper, and all the others like her in Pelican Crossing who had never moved into the digital age and never would. ‘So, what can you do?’
‘Try my best to increase circulation to prove how much the community value and need it. It’s why I spend hours poring over it. But enough about me. I’m sorry I rushed off without making arrangements to see you again.’
‘No worries.’ Liz felt an arc of desire shoot through her at the expression in his eyes. ‘We’re here now.’
‘We are.’ He thrust a hand through his hair. ‘This week’s going to be hectic for me. It’s Sandy’s birthday, and Adele has arranged a few activities and treats. I need to be there.’
‘I understand.’
‘But next weekend. Easter. Perhaps we could do something then?’
Liz felt a flash of disappointment mixed with the rush of excitement she always experienced at the prospect of meeting her long-lost daughter. ‘Oh, not next weekend,’ she said, only to see his face fall. ‘I’m sorry, I…’
‘I thought you said your daughters would be away?’
Had she? She couldn’t remember. Possibly. Now he’d think she didn’t want to see him. But she couldn’t tell him. She met his eyes, seeing their tenderness, his willingness to understand. Maybe this was the one person she could tell. ‘It’s like this…’ she began.
*
Finn was still trying to get his head around what Liz had told him as he walked home that evening, choosing to leave his car in the office car park. He needed time to think, to digest the fact that she’d had a child when she was scarcely more than a child herself, that her parents had moved – twice – to help hide her pregnancy, ending up here in Pelican Crossing, and that now, this coming weekend, after thirty-four years, she was to meet her daughter. He couldn’t imagine how it must feel, the excitement mixed with dread. What an Easter it was going to be for her. And there was a granddaughter too.
When Finn thought of all the pleasure he had from his own grandchild, the thought of her having missed out on all of that… It had made him want to pick her up and hug her, right there on the sidewalk. Only the fear of embarrassing her had stopped him. Instead, he’d muttered meaningless platitudes and hoped she understood. At least he’d been able to offer her a handkerchief to wipe away the tears which had trickled down her cheeks as she told him her story.
He knew her parents had acted in her best interests. At least they had supported her, helped her move on with her life. He had no idea how he’d have reacted if Adele had been in the same position – at fifteen. But to go for so long with no contact, no idea if her daughter was alive or dead. What must that have been like? He thought he’d detected an underlying sadness in Liz when they first met. This could have been the cause. And to think he’d burdened her with his obligations…
He was still lost in thought when he arrived home to be greeted by an excited Sandy. ‘Guess what, Grandy? Bluey did a poo on the kitchen floor!’
‘Sorry, Adele.’ Finn gave Adele a rueful grin, sure it hadn’t been the highlight of her day. ‘We need to teach him to go outside,’ Finn said to Sandy, reminded again of the puppy training class he’d intended to book.
‘Mummy cleaned it up,’ Sandy said cheerfully.
‘Sorry,’ Finn said again to Adele. He hadn’t intended the dog to make more work for her.
‘It’s okay, Dad. I can see how much Bluey means to Sandy. Having the dog has done him the world of good.’
It was true. Since Bluey had joined them, Sandy’s nightmares had stopped. He was sleeping through the entire night, and he was happier .
‘You okay?’ Adele asked Finn, making him realise he’d been frowning.
‘What? Yeah. Just have a few things to think about.’ About Liz, about the momentous event she was having to face this coming weekend. Thinking of Easter, he said, ‘I know you have a few things arranged this week for this one’s birthday,’ he tousled Sandy’s hair, ‘but do you have any plans for Easter?’
‘Will the Easter bunny be coming this year?’ Sandy asked, his eyes wide.
‘Sure thing, champ.’ Finn remembered how the previous year, Adele had been so wrapped in grief, both Sandy’s birthday and Easter had passed in a daze. Finn had tried his best to compensate, but the little boy was feeling bereft too. It was the year the Easter bunny didn’t pay his usual visit.
‘You’ll be around? I thought…’ Adele gave him a strange look. She knew he’d started seeing Liz.
‘All weekend. It’s complicated.’
‘Oh, okay.’
Finn could see the questions in her eyes and knew he’d be in for an interrogation later when Sandy wasn’t around. He’d work out how to deal with it then, without giving away Liz’s secret.
Sandy was still focussed on Easter. ‘We’re making hats and chickens in my class,’ he said, ‘and there’s to be a special ’sembly.’
Adele smiled. ‘All the infant classes are making hats for a special Easter assembly and hat parade on the last day of term.’
‘Which is? Remind me.’
‘Classes wind up on Thursday, right before the Easter weekend.’
‘Right, and…’
‘Since you’re going to be free, maybe we could do something special as a family. Almost everything will be closed on Good Friday, but there are three days left.’
‘Can we go up in a balloon, Grandy? Can we, can we? You promised.’
Finn had a vague recollection of making a wild promise to Sandy one morning when they had watched the hot air balloons in the sky. He should have known better. He saw the fear in Adele’s eyes. ‘Maybe not a balloon ride this time,’ he said, ‘but we will do something special.’ He just had to work out what it could be .
It wasn’t till Sandy was in bed and had been read a story, that Finn was faced with Adele’s questions. He managed to fend her off by saying Liz was busy with visitors on the weekend and that, yes, he intended to see her again. He tried to make light of it, not wanting to worry her. He had no wish for his relationship with Liz to make any difference to his life with Adele and Sandy, but wondered if he was being fair to Liz. She had a lot to handle at the moment. Was he adding one more complication to her already complex life?