Ronnie rubbed her forehead. She had completely forgotten. “I’ll ask.”
“If you need someone, I’ll take time off work.”
“You’re the best.”
“Shouldn’t you be at work?”
“I’m not in ace shape right now. Recovering from a thing.”
“Another half pipe injury?”
“Fuck off.”
Mikey snorted. “You don’t have Rainbow today, do you?”
Ronnie inhaled slowly, then exhaled. Her friend knew it was Rainbow’s birthday. Mikey had been with her when she started having contractions, early labor, and had been there when she returned from the infirmary alone.
“Man,” Mikey said. “That sucks. If I was there, I’d give you a hug.”
“Thanks.”
“Tell her happy birthday for us. We have a present for her. We’ll give it her next time we see you. Come visit.”
“I want to. I’ve been thinking about driving down there again. I can’t right now, but when I get over this thing I will.”
“Tell you what.” Mikey was always so thoughtful and kind—a better friend than Ronnie. “Why don’t you pick me and Jesse up a few days before the hearing? The kids can play together and I’ll be there for moral support, even if you don’t end up needing a character witness.”
That was a fantastic idea. She wished she had thought of that. “You’re seriously the best. Are you sure?”
“Of course. We have to get your daughter back.”
“Partially back.”
“Same thing.”
30
BACK TO WORK
On June first the note from Ronnie’s doctor clearing her to return to work finally appeared on her online health portal. Ronnie let out a sigh of relief, printed it out to show to Nev, then began hunting down work clothes. It took her an age to figure out how to pull on boots. Her back had mostly healed, but she still had no core strength when she was bent over.
She drove herself and the dogs to Upsend Downs mid-morning in the truck. Driving was uncomfortable, but that was allowed. On either side of Boar Pocket Road the neighbors’ paddocks looked dry.
She had been to Stone House a handful of times since the accident, not as often as she would have liked, but she hadn’t set foot on the public side of the operation. The lads hadn’t seen her in six weeks.
Nev stood out front waiting for her. That wouldn’t have happened before. Ronnie’s stomach tightened into a knot. She turned off the engine.
Nev opened the door of the truck.
Ronnie’s cheeks burned. “Bloody hell. Don’t look at me like that.” She swallowed.
“Like what?” Nev asked.
Her boss unfolded her from the seat the way Rainbow unfolded origami dream-catchers—lower lip between her teeth, cautiously optimistic, already knowing what was inside.
Kazi, Ric-Rac and Barney came running when Nev radioed that she had returned. Ronnie was deeply moved by how relieved they were to see her. They took off hats, ran fingers through thinning hair and gave her one-armed hugs as if she might break, which made her throat tight. She wanted them to squeeze the breath out of her, manhandle her and wrestle her the way they used to.
The lads presented her with a pavlova while singing “For She’s a Jolly Good Fellow” loudly, off-key.
