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“Sure.”
“Why do you need to be here?”
Pausing for a moment in his painting, he said, “Midlife crisis, I guess.” He smiled when Georgie snorted.
“You’re not that old.”
“Pushing forty,” he replied with a shrug. He wasn’t quite sure how to answer her question so he took his time. When he looked at her, it was to find her watching him expectantly. “I’ve worked really hard for a really long time.”
“Right,” she said when he didn’t go on.
“After Sharon left, I hated being in the house by myself. So I spent a lot of time at the clinic. And I mean a lot. I practically lived there. I lost myself in it, I guess. Years went by, then one day I lifted my head up and thought, what the fuck am I doing?” He looked down at the brush in his hand. “This can’t be all there is to life. So I started painting again.”
“Does it help?” She asked quietly.
“Aye.” He wanted to say more. Wanted to say that the painting was a stop gap while he waited for real purpose. But he suspected that his real purpose was Georgie. Loving Georgie. And he couldn’t tell her that.
“So you’ll just keep doing this until…when?”
“Not for much longer, to be honest. I’ve got the clinic set up to run pretty well without me, but that’s not a long-term arrangement.” An image flashed into his mind. Of him, returning to Melbourne. Alone. Rattling around his big old house in Malvern by himself. What a depressing thought. Looking at Georgie, he saw that she was staring down at her hands, her shoulders hunched. “What is it?”
“Are you staying for me?”
Something in her tone caught at him. “Does it trouble you if I am?”
She looked up at him, her expression guarded. “I don’t think you should put your life on hold for me.”
“My life was already on hold, mo chroi,” he said gently. “What’s an extra month?”
She smiled at that. “I don’t want to put anyone out.”
“I know that. But lots of people want to put themselves out for you.”
“Yeah, I don’t really get that, to be honest.”
“What, that people want to help you?”
“Yeah, it’s not a common experience for me.”
“I guess that just says you’ve been hanging out with the wrong people.”
She laughed softly. “You could be onto something there.”
He smiled before turning back to his canvas, thinking to himself how glad he was that she’d come to Blessed Inlet. For his sake, but also for her own.
* * *
The next day followed a similar pattern. Ryan came to Georgie after lunch, she walked around the cabin a little, then sat with him while he painted. That night, however, was a test of his will. He’d thought she was a model patient in every way but one. It was an ongoing challenge to maintain her pain management regime. With each passing day she grew more resistant to the pills he handed her. Today, that resistance came to a head.
“I don’t think I need it!”
“I know you don’t, but you are nowhere near healed enough to give up pain medication.”
Georgie pushed the glass of water across the table. “I’m done.”
Ryan sighed. He could see that Georgie had had enough. He understood. He really did. But he knew it was too soon. Knew that she was going to expose herself to unnecessary pain. He also knew she was way too stubborn to listen to him. “Fine.”
Georgie stared at him in astonishment. “Fine?”
