‘Yeah. I think so. Probably.’ Rae retrieved Myra’s crutch from the corner behind her. ‘Anyway, here you go. Are you staying for dinner?’
‘Only if you don’t mind. I’m sure you’re worn out from having a full house.’ She slipped her arm into the cuff to lean her weight against the sturdy aid. ‘If you’d like me to give you a wee bit of space, I promise I won’t take it personally. I know it’s odd, all this.’
‘No, honestly, you’re always welcome,’ Rae promised, and found she meant it. ‘I’m really glad Dad has you. He’s not nearly as grumpy when you’re around, which is great for all of us.’
Myra chuckled and squeezed Rae’s shoulder. ‘You’re a good lass. If there’s anything I can do to help with the wedding preparations, just let me know, aye?’
Rae brushed her offer away. ‘You’re the mother of the groom. Your job is to enjoy yourself. And also maybe protect me from Harper if she goes full Bridezilla.’
‘Consider it done.’ Myra was still laughing as she wandered out, only for Martha to take her place. She held a bottle of Gran’s strawberry wine and two glasses, and mimed glugging it with an enticing wink.
Something pleasant radiated through Rae’s chest, though she barely recognised it at first. But as she grabbed her laptop and followed Martha out, she realised what it was: not happiness, not really, but rather an absence of the stress she’d experienced in Sydney.
A glimmer of the peace she’d come home to find.
As the drizzle stopped, Martha ended up leading Rae down to the orchard, snapping a photograph of their initials carved into the oak tree to post on Instagram. Apparently, Vik was napping, and Martha had been feeling nostalgic. Rae felt the same poignant feeling creep up on her as she sat on the damp riverbank, watching Martha dip her feet into the water, the hem of her culottes bunched in her hands.
Meanwhile, Rae had her to-do list open, jotting down next week’s tasks in neat black ink. ‘So, Harper has a photographer booked from twelve onwards to capture everyone arriving,which means we should really set up the night before unless it rains.’ Her eyes widened. ‘Oh, God. What if it rains?’
‘That’s what the marquee is for,’ said Martha, skipping a stone over the river’s surface. ‘Will you get in here and have fun? It’s a Sunday evening.’
‘I just need to make sure we’ve thought of everything. The wedding’s in two weeks, Martha!’
‘And you’ve checked off an entire notebook of tasks!’ Martha huffed, wading out of the current to collapse on the grass beside Rae. In the sunlight, her blue eyes were translucent, made brighter by her sage-green top. Rae had always envied her beauty, more so as they grew older. Summer had worn her down to sun-bleached, windswept hair and freckle clusters. She could go anywhere in the world and people would think she belonged, both because she looked the part and because she was far more content in her own skin than Rae had ever been.
She was building the life she’d hoped for. She knew she was in the right place. Rae had never really been able to say the same.
‘You’re even more high maintenance than before. I don’t think I’ve seen you relax once since we got here.’ It sounded like an accusation, triggering Rae’s defences.
‘You’re not the calmest person I know, either.’ Having received a terse response when she’d told Martha that she was meeting Cam earlier this week, Rae couldn’t keep the edge from her voice. She thought maybe, in Martha’s case, it was a symptom of losing her dad at a young age matched with the impact of having a mum who was much the same.They both mistook their personal opinions for fact, saw everything in black and white. Cam had broken Martha’s heart once, so that meant Rae shouldn’t meet up with her. Struan didn’t wear himself thin for a traditional nine-to-five, so that meant he must be unhappy and unambitious. Even with Vik, Martha had to have the final say when planning their days out this week, Vik’s suggestions sometimes falling away. It wasn’t malicious. Perhaps it was her way of seizing stability, making sure the world around her made perfect sense after it had taken something without warning.
Rae couldn’t point it out, of course. She’d tried to once before, at university, when Martha would visit during her reading weeks despite the fact that Rae’s fell at different times. She’d be pulled from studies, convinced to miss lectures. Once, when Rae’s patience had frayed mid-week and she’d refused to go out and get drunk the night before a practical assessment, Martha had left early. They hadn’t spoken for a week.
She’d accepted it was the way Martha functioned, just as Rae had her own issues with control, but now…
Was she missing out on happiness simply because it was in Martha’s nature to argue about anything that wasn’t her idea? If Martha had been more flexible, more understanding, would Rae have told her the truth about Struan already?
Glowering, Martha kicked her legs out in front of her. ‘Is something the matter?’
‘No.’
‘You’ve not been yourself recently. It feels like you’re keeping me at arm’s length.’
‘Not at all. I’m just…’ Rae slapped the notebook closed, leaving it on top of her laptop. ‘I’m just trying to keep the farm running, Martha.’ Her voice cracked, which stopped her from saying more. She looked out at the river. Even her favourite place in the world couldn’t force calm back into her mind. Every time she thought she was finally finding her balance again, it was swept away and out of reach.
‘I suppose I just don’t really understand why you’re suddenly all about rescuing this place when you’ve been chasing after something else for the last ten years,’ Martha admitted, voice soft. ‘You barely even come home anymore. Sweetbriar isn’t your responsibility. Why the sudden switch?’
The truth stuck like cotton in Rae’s mouth. How could she tell her best friend that the career she’d left everything behind for, the career that had driven a wedge between them, the career that most people would die for a chance to have, was no longer making her happy?
But if there was anybody she should open up to about it, it should be Martha. God knows, she had been with Rae through all of it until lately. She could do this.
‘I needed to come home.’ Rae flicked dandelion fluff off her dress. ‘The restaurant got too much. Yvette was a tyrant. She made me feel so incompetent every single day. Things I could do with my eyes closed, I suddenly started messing up on. I started hiding in the freezer just to catch my breath. And then I’d go home and lie awake all night, alone, just to do it all over again the next day.I don’t know what would have happened to me if I’d stayed in that place.’
She’d never once said it out loud. In fact, she’d stopped even looking in the mirrors back in Sydney, just so she wouldn’t have to face the dark circles under her eyes or the dullness within them.
Martha put a sympathetic hand on Rae’s thigh. ‘Why didn’t you tell me you were struggling? Now I’m the one who feels like a rubbish friend…’
‘I was ashamed. I thought I was stronger than this.’
