The Geography of Happiness (Mackenzie Country)

Chapter 19

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Terry

I stared at the screensaver of Lake Tekapo, which had replaced Spencer just a few seconds before, and shook my head. I’ll be looking forward to it? Dammit. I groaned and banged my forehead on the desk. Then I banged it a second time just because I could.

What the fuck was wrong with me?

I’d spent a week drumming up the courage to end the madness of all the daily calls and had just failed dismally. I deserved every ounce of heartbreak coming my way because the only place this was headed was a world in which Spencer and I couldn’t even be friends. But not talking to him every day seemed just as bad.

If I’d thought returning to Painted Bay would put an end to all the silliness of the Mackenzie, I was wrong. The first few nights back in my home were bliss. Sleeping in my own bed, the comfort of familiar surroundings, my friends and family rallying to my side and being there for Hannah. It felt... good. Easy. Safe. Nothing out of place. No temptation. The familiar busyness kicking in so I didn’t have to look too hard at my life and where I was going. And no sexy veterinarian screwing with my feelings and making me think I could have... more.

But there were some disturbing differences. Like the way I watched the tides roll in and out of Painted Bay and saw mounds of pillowy golden tussock instead. I missed the crisp air in the morning, the clarity of the rivers and lakes, and the way the snow-tipped mountains framed every view for hundreds of kilometres. I missed the sound of the station utes tearing up and down the drive, the laughter of the shepherds, the distant murmur of thousands of merinos in the yard, and the smell of lanoline in the air. And when I walked down to the beach for my first swim of the year, I thought about the lake on Miller Station and the water felt too warm. The promise I’d made to myself to push my boundaries, a distant memory.

And then there was Spencer. The first call came the night we arrived home. I grinned like a fool when I saw his name on the screen. We’d spoken most nights since, and it wasn’t like I could lay the blame at Spencer’s feet since I initiated the calls as often as he did.

Our evening chats had become a happy habit that I couldn’t or wouldn’t break. They lasted anywhere from ten minutes to an hour or more, often with a beer in hand. If Hannah was around, she’d rush to answer the call first and the two of them would chat for a while before I jumped on. Sometimes we talked in my car while I waited for Hannah’s dance class to finish since she was still helping out. Other times I called once she was asleep and I was stretched out on my bed.

We’d learned a lot about each other in the four weeks since I’d left the Mackenzie. I’d told Spencer things that I hadn’t told another soul. And on the few days we couldn’t connect, I missed his voice like crazy, which only went to prove it was a bad idea. Ending things was gonna hurt like a motherfucker. The coward’s option was much easier. With Spencer leaving for Adelaide in January, he’d be too busy to keep this up, and I would simply back off. Easy as that.

“Dad? Are you done?”

Hannah’s question jolted me out of my fugue and reminded me Judah was waiting. I dragged my fingers through my hair and took a few deep breaths. Then I headed for the kitchen where Judah was seated at the island, talking and laughing with Hannah while his service dog, Mickey, lay sprawled on the tiles next to Gabby forcing me to step over them both.

Judah turned at the sound of the door opening and his smile lit up the room. “There you are. I was about to send a search party.” He looked freshly showered and beautiful as always—his lithe muscular body at home wherever it landed, be it onstage in the Boston Opera House or standing in my kitchen in Painted Bay. The annoying man owned every space he entered through force of his personality alone—funny, abrasive, charming, sarcastic, bossy, and loyal to a fault.

“You seem particularly in demand these days.” Judah looked me up and down, his curiosity obviously piqued. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed you smiling at your phone more than usual, and then there’s all these video calls for a man who hates video calls. Anything or any one I should know about?”

Oh god.

“It was Dad’s friend, Spencer,” Hannah answered, adding air quotes for good measure. “They talk all the time.”

I jolted in place, my stomach hitting my boots.

“Oh really.” Judah did a slow turn back around to face me, his hazel eyes bright with mischief and something I couldn’t quite name.

I rolled my eyes and brushed on by him. “Ignore my so-not-funny daughter.” I directed a bug-eyed glare at Hannah who promptly lost her cheeky smile and returned to peeling the apple in her hand with focused attention.

“This is the vet, right?” Judah’s eyes narrowed. “The one who adopted Miller?”

I nodded and began stacking plates on the countertop. “I asked him to let us know how Miller was doing.”

Judah hummed, his shrewd gaze drilling into my back. “By video?”

I shrugged indifferently. “Hannah likes Miller and Gabby to see each other.”

“It’s true.” Hannah backed me up and I almost forgave her. “They bonded.”

“Uh-huh.” Judah was clearly unconvinced. “All right then, keep your secrets, you two, but I smell a rat.”

“No secrets to keep. Now make yourself useful and grab some knives and forks. When does Morgan get back?”

Judah slid from his stool and answered as he gathered the cutlery. “Tomorrow. That’s his third conference in as many months. To be honest, I’m over it. We need a break.” He shot me a sly look. “I was thinking of booking a weekend on that station of yours. Sounds just the ticket.”

For fuck’s sake. But I wasn’t biting.

“Morgan would love it,” Hannah agreed, earning another scowl from me, which was stupendously unfair.

“I’m sure he would,” I answered as casually as I could. “But I recall Gil saying they were pretty booked up until February.” Plenty of time for Spencer to be safely settled in Adelaide since there was no way in hell I wanted Judah anywhere near that station while Spencer was still around.

“Too bad.” Judah followed me around the table setting the cutlery while I laid the plates. “I suppose we’ll get there eventually. How are you feeling about the appointment tomorrow? Shitting your pants, I bet.”

“Pretty much.” I glanced to where Hannah was setting the salad on the table. “The scans will decide what happens. Nothing we can do to change it now.”

“How about you, munchkin?” Judah asked Hannah. “Are you worried?”

She screwed up her face. “Pretty much what Dad said. If I have to have surgery, then I suppose I could even be better than I am now.”

Or a lot less flexible, depending on how it went. But I kept that cheery thought to myself.

“I don’t think even the doctors really know,” she admitted. “I just don’t want it to stop me from going to Nolan.”

I let loose a heavy sigh. “Hannah, we talked about?—”

“No reason it should as long as everything goes to plan, right?” Judah interrupted, silencing me with a be-careful-what-you-say look. “No point in jumping the gun. Nolan has students managing some pretty heavy-duty challenges, you know that from your visit. You wouldn’t be the first and I’ve heard they bend over backwards to help.”

I rolled my eyes so only Judah could see, and he returned a pointedly you’re-welcome glare.

“Let’s wait and see what happens tomorrow.” I walked the middle line and Judah smiled approvingly, the little shit. “Now let’s get dinner on the table. I’m starving.”

The second Hannah left the room, Judah pulled me aside. “Don’t crush her hopes until you’re sure,” he warned.

My hackles rose and I met his determined gaze with a curt one of my own. “Come talk to me when you’ve had children, Judah. You have no idea how hard this is.”

He didn’t back down. “Maybe not. But I’ve been Hannah. I am Hannah. So maybe you should ask me how it feels to live that life.”

We stared each other down until I finally grabbed him by the shoulders and hauled him into my arms. “Damn, I’ve missed you, you interfering bastard.”

He chuckled and hugged me back. “I live to serve. And I love you too, by the way. Come on, let’s eat.”

Dinner and the rest of the evening passed in happy conversation that carefully avoided any mention of the Mackenzie or Hannah’s appointment. Judah was in excellent snarky form and my ribs ached from laughter by the time he left.

I really had missed him.

But not more than that, I realised once he’d kissed me on the cheek and headed home on his bike. The shared meal had been the first time we’d spent a whole evening together since I’d returned, and it had taken me a little while to work out that something was different. By the time he left, I’d figured it out, and it had nothing to do with Judah. It was me who’d changed. Or rather, my feelings when I was around him had changed.

That niggling, wistful disappointment was gone. Judah was my best friend, but he was no longer anything more than that. He wasn’t a crush. He wasn’t a wish. He wasn’t a what-if. That particular spot had been taken by a man with dark brown eyes and a charming, wicked smile.

Part of the change felt really good. The other part scared the shit out of me.

I needed to have that talk with Judah more than ever. I didn’t want to lie by omission any longer. But I had to get Hannah through her medical crisis first. After that would come the talk. I could only hope I still had my best friend at the end of it.

I set about cleaning the kitchen while Hannah got herself ready for bed. With her appointment looming the next day, I decided not to tackle Hannah about her unfortunate comment to Judah. It could wait. But Hannah had other ideas, and when I went in to say goodnight, she patted the mattress and asked me to sit.

I side-eyed her. “Why do I feel like I’ve been called to the principal’s office?”

She didn’t laugh. “What’s going on, Dad?”

“What do you mean?” I hedged.

“Don’t act cute with me.”

I bit back a smile. “Is this about the Spencer thing?”

“You know it is,” she said, sounding hurt.

I took her hands in mine. “I’m sorry. And I’m sorry I snapped at you... well, glared, anyway.”

She looked close to tears. “I was only joking... kind of. I mean, he is your friend, right? And you do talk all the time.”

How the hell do I answer that? “Yes, he is. But it’s... complicated.” Then I remembered her choice of words and asked, “Explain what you meant by kind of?”

She blew out a sigh. “It’s just that I saw you guys hugging at the medical centre when you thought I was asleep and I might’ve heard a few things as well.”

Oh boy. “I was upset, and Spencer was very kind to me.”

Hannah rolled her eyes. “I’m not a kid, Dad. It was... cute. Spencer’s a nice guy and I can see you like him. I don’t get why the big secret.”

Dear Lord. “Is that why you asked about me dating that night?”

She nodded. “You know I don’t care if you’re bi, right?” She looked so damn earnest, I wanted to hug her. And so, I did.

“I do know that.” I kissed her hair. “Although I don’t know what label I’d choose, if any, right now. The point is that nobody else knows I’m not straight, honey.”

She stared, clearly shocked. “Not even Judah? What about Spencer?”

I couldn’t stop my smile. “Yes, okay, Spencer knows.”

She pulled back, a deep frown cutting her brow. “I thought it was just me who didn’t know. I’m sorry if I made things awkward.”

I shook my head. “Don’t be. I should’ve talked with you earlier. I should’ve talked to a lot of people, and I will. I’m just not quite ready. As I said, it’s complicated.”

She didn’t press. “I mean it, Dad. I really like Spencer.”

Which also made me smile. “Me too, Princess. But the timing sucks so we’ve agreed just to be friends.”

“Yeah, right,” she huffed. “Friends who text and call each other every single day.”

“Some friends do that,” I countered. “Besides, Spencer is off to Adelaide in the new year, and who knows if he’ll even come back? Plus, I have you to consider. I need to get you graduated and out earning money so that you can look after me in my old age before I abandon you.”

Hannah laughed. “As if you’d ever abandon me. I can hardly take a pee without you knowing where I am.”

There was a hollow edge to her comment and I thought of Spencer’s words. You can only protect her so much and yourself as well. Otherwise, how will she learn to trust herself?

I lifted Hannah’s knuckles to my lips and kissed them. “Is that how it feels to you? Honest answer.”

Her gaze slid away and her voice dropped to a whisper. “Sometimes. But mostly it’s okay.”

Something clenched in my stomach and wouldn’t let go. And when Hannah’s eyes found mine once again, the determination and hope I saw there almost took my breath away. My daughter had more courage than I ever would.

“I know you love me.” She held fast to my hand. “But you can’t spend my whole life telling me that I can conquer the world and then get scared when I start doing it.”

Well, shit. I took a breath and stared in awe at this amazing kid that Amber and I had somehow created. This tiny speck of the universe that ruled my heart. “Is that what I’m doing, sweetheart?”

“You don’t mean to, but sometimes it feels like that.” Her gaze dropped to where our hands lay joined. “I know you don’t want me to go to Nolan, but I am ready, Dad. How will I discover what I don’t know or what I need to learn if I always have you to tell me or do it for me? I’m gonna be on my own in four years”—

A reminder I could well do without .

—“and that’s not as long as you think it is.” She was being careful, so very careful not to hurt me. But there was a quiet desperation that underpinned her words and I hated that I was the cause of it.

“I tell you what,” I said, fighting a swell of shame. “Let’s get this medical check over with and see what we’re up against. Then we can have a long talk with your doctor and Nolan Academy and see what they have to say.”

“Really?” Hannah’s expression brightened immediately. Then it fell just as fast. “But what if I need surgery?”

I shrugged, trying not to let my panic about that whole scenario ruin the mood. “One thing at a time,” I deflected. “Dr’s appointment first, and who knows? There might be nothing to worry about after all.”

I should’ve known better.