Page 58 of The Cloud Catcher

‘Oh, my goodness, Mum.’ Amy’s voice broke as she wrapped her arms around her. ‘I’m here. We’re here,’ she said as she comforted her mother like no daughter should have to.

Lily followed suit, her embrace a shelter built from years of shared laughter, reached dreams and whispered secrets. The smell of warm vanilla and lavender clung to them like a hug, even while the air around them thickened with the weight of unspoken fears. The girls’ presence wove a web of support that enfolded Zara, stitching the frayed edges of her resolve back together as words of comfort were exchanged, soft and soothing.

‘Mum, we’re here, okay? For whatever comes,’ Lily said ever so gently.

‘Yes, too right, little sis, and nothing can break us, because we’re Team Maverick,’ Amy added, her voice carrying immense strength.

‘Team Maverick,’ Zara repeated, a smile breaking through the clouds of her sorrow.

In that moment, surrounded by her family, the scent of salt and sea seemed to fill the room, reminding her of countless days spent on the shores near their small town, where time ebbed and flowed with the rhythm of the ocean. Their family love was an endless expanse, deep and powerful. And it was this love, this unbreakable bond, that would see her through the coming storm and give her the courage to face the unknown, never alone, but with a crew steadfast and true.

* * *

The following week, as the first rays of sunlight trickled through the partially closed blinds, illuminating the otherwise sterile room with a warm golden glow, Zara sat stiffly, her hands clasped tightly in her lap as she tried to control the tremors that racked her body. Jay sat stoically next to her, in a silent show of support and solidarity as Dr Thompson entered the room with a graceful stride, her presence seeming out of place amid the clinical atmosphere. She offered a small smile, but there was a heaviness in her eyes that spoke of shared struggle and empathy. Taking a seat across from them, she unfolded a map of treatment options with the precision of an expert cartographer navigating uncharted waters.

‘As I’ve explained, radiation therapy will be our best course of action,’ Dr Thompson began, her voice steadily reassuring. ‘And chemotherapy will be the extra oomph needed to fight the cancer tooth and nail.’

Dr Thompson then delved into the intricate details of chemotherapy and radiation — the names foreign and distant like stars in the night sky. Yet Zara absorbed them all, turning each one over in her mind like smooth pebbles plucked from the shore.

‘How rough is the treatment, on my body, I mean?’ Zara’s words were barely audible over the deafening roar of fear in her head.

‘It will be rough, yes,’ Dr Thompson admitted, ‘but we have ways to manage the side effects, and we’ll adjust everything as needed.’

Jay squeezed her hand tighter, his piercing blue eyes unwavering. ‘I’ll be with you every step of the way, my love,’ he vowed, his words carrying the weight of a soul-deep promise.

For the next half an hour, Dr Thompson patiently addressed each question and concern with calmness, her compassion serving as a gentle wind, propelling them forward on this treacherous journey. When they stood to leave the increasingly suffocating confines of the doctor’s office, Zara felt the gravity of her diagnosis rooting her to the spot. But she was determined to move, and believe, and fight. It took a moment for her legs to obey and carry her back into the world where life and death were in constant flux. Having sat patiently in the waiting room, Lily and Amy stood in unison as she and Jay emerged.

Hooking an arm into hers, Lily walked closely beside her. ‘Remember how you taught us to dive under the waves instead of letting them crash over us, Mum?’ she whispered, her breath warm against Zara’s ear.

Zara nodded while wishing her gorgeous little grandchildren could be here, too, although she also didn’t want them to bear witness to such human hardship. Amy had left them happily visiting with their Aunty Jasmine, Mark’s daughter, who had become Amy’s closest friend after she came to live with Mark and Suzanne as a teenager.

‘We’ll dive together now, deep and strong.’ Lily’s steady voice defied her usually restless spirit.

‘Damn straight we will,’ Amy added as they stepped out of the hospital, and into bright sunshine.

Blinking back tears, Zara paused on the footpath and nodded. ‘I know I tell you both all the time, but geez I love you, so very much, with all my heart, and then some.’

‘Ditto to that,’ Jay affirmed with a fatherly nod.

Wrapping their arms around one another, they formed a circle of strength as the power of their collective spirits filled Zara like a sail catching the wind.

Later that evening, the warm, comforting aroma of roasted garlic and thyme wafted through the Maverick household, wrapping around Zara like a familiar embrace. She settled into her seat at the formal dining table, surrounded by the gentle clinking of cutlery on porcelain plates and the soft murmurs of her family’s conversation. This simple act of sharing a meal together gave her a sense of normalcy, their family roots intertwined like the branches of the ancient gum trees in their backyard.

‘Jay, this is absolutely delicious,’ Zara exclaimed with a genuine smile, savouring each bite of the expertly prepared herb-crusted chicken. ‘As always.’ The flavours danced on her tongue, a symphony of deliciousness that spoke of simple home comforts.

‘Only the best for my warrior woman,’ Jay replied, his voice filled with his usual unwavering support.

Glancing around the table at her daughters’ faces, etched with concern but shining with inherited strength, Zara took a deep breath. ‘Listen here, you lot,’ she began, her voice surprisingly steady, ‘I know the next little while will be difficult, but there’s some things that cancer can never touch, and that’s our love, and our memories.’ She bit back a sob. ‘No matter what happens, those beautiful things will endure. Forever.’

Her words were met with nods and silent understanding as they raised their glasses in a toast, the clinking sound ringing out like a clear chime of solidarity that reached beyond the walls of their home.

‘Here’s to fighting against all odds,’ Zara proclaimed.

‘Amen to that,’ Jay echoed.

* * *

The blinding white walls of the hospital room seemed to drain the colour from Zara’s world, but her fighting spirit remained untouched. She turned to where a door opened, and Dr Thompson entered with a folder tucked securely under her arm, her soft expression, as always, a calming presence.