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A muscle jumped in my neck. “I’m drawn to her whenever I’m in the same room, the same space. Every morning, I look to the east, to the winery and think of her.”
I picked up another jam drop and shoved it in my mouth before any more of a confession tumbled out.
Mum ran her hand over my hair and pulled me to her, squeezing tight.
“Mum, I was never in love with Ainslee. We weren’t ever a proper couple. I—” I couldn’t admit to Mum that I’d thought of another woman while having sex with Ainslee.Not to my mother.“I made a big mistake telling Ainslee I loved her. But it’s always been Rosie. Since my eighteenth birthday week.”
“Tom, you’ve been smitten with Rosie since you could walk. You followed her and Amanda everywhere.” Mum released me with a wistful smile. “Your father said to me he knew I was the one for him at first sight.”
“What? That’s bonkers.”
“I thought so, too, but he was adamant that’s what it was like when he first saw me at Walston Park racetrack. He was racing and saw me with my cousin Carol walking past the pits, and he told Uncle Bruce, ‘I’m going to marry her one day’. Your uncle laughed, and your dad hounded him to find out who I was. Your dad told me what he said to Bruce on our first date, and I must’ve looked like I was about to run right out of the restaurant because he added, ‘I know it sounds crazy, but I want a chance to show you I mean it’. And he did show me. Every day.
“Be like your father, Tom. If you truly love Rosie, show her every day that your love is constant and true.” Mum sighed. “Right now, most men in her life, if not all, have failed her.”
“I don’t know if I can do the muster with her, even if she’s camping in a tent with wombats.” I cradled my face in my hands. “It’s too much to think about what with the muster, the clip, university, and finishing off this plan for the future of Turner’s Creek.”
“Thomas Benjamin Turner.”
I looked at Mum through my fingers. “You put too much pressure on yourself. You carry the weight we all feel on your shoulders. Let us help.”
I inhaled a shuddering breath as Mum leaned forward. “Talk to your siblings. Involve them. You’re not doing this on your own. Not the muster, not the wool clip, not even the five-year plan for the station.”
I tentatively smiled and then Mum added, “except your studies, keep at it.”
We both laughed and reached for another biscuit.
“I don’t know if she has any regrets how we broke up. Or any feelings left for me. But I think she might. I don’t know. And then there’s Turner’s Creek and the winery. What if we do get together and then end up divorced or something? We could tear everything apart that our families have worked so hard for over the years.”
“Your dad was ready to give up Turner’s Creek for me.”
“What?”
“It’s true. For three days, only we knew that we were prepared to sell the farm and move. I was homesick and sleep deprived after having Ryan. Probably had postnatal depression, too. I barely saw Rod as he was out in the paddocks getting ready for another muster and the annual sales. I just hated it here; I was always crying, desperately lonely with a newborn baby that had me up every hour. But your dad said he’d give up Turner’s Creek and live in the city to make me happy. And that was tempting for a young teacher from the city who felt like a fish out of water on a sheep station with a young baby. But Rod took time off from the farm and stayed with me, carrying Ryan around at all hours of the night so I could sleep.
“I fantasised about returning to Brisbane, about what Rod could do for work there. After three days, I had more sleep, and we walked around the farm together with Ryan. At the boulders near Washpool Creek, I told your father that this was my home. Rod got a part-time housekeeper—Jack’s wife stayed on and helped while Jack followed the shearing work down south. Sheila was a godsend. And then soon I was pregnant with Amanda. And then Stacey, and I learnt more and more about how the farm was run, and I learnt how to class wool after Stacey was born, and I trained, and then boom, twins. Tom, I can’t even imagine going back into a classroom. Whatever happens with the farm, I’ll be fine. And you will be too. We all will.”
I nodded, but felt desolate at the thought of Turner’s Creek not belonging to a Turner. That it wouldn’t be my home.
Mum took my hand and squeezed.
“I have no idea if Rosie feels the same way I do for her, or ever will.” Mum’s grip tightened. “I carry a constant ache in my chest every day. It’s heavier now that she’s back. She looks at me like I’m the enemy. Four years ago it was going so great with her. I thought she wanted me, too. Like, date me. But she broke up with me, Mum. No idea why either. And yet, she treats me like I’m the one who’s at fault.”
“How did you two—?” Mum sat up straighter. “I can’t believe you both kept that a secret from everyone.”
“It all changed at my eighteenth birthday dinner. How I saw her, how it felt to be around her. I thought … we’d said things. We were together for about two weeks but she cast me aside, treating our time together like a fling.”
“You never said a word.” I shook my head. “Oh, my dear boy with the big heart,” Mum whispered, grasping my hand again.
Mum’s sympathy was almost too much. I stared at my tea. “Things now are … complicated. I know she’s just ended her engagement but there’s things she’s said … and done … I don’t know if she will ever want me the way I want her. I don’t know if I’ll ever be good enough for her.”
“That’s for Rosie to decide. And she needs time.”
Mum released my hand with a sharp inhale. “I said we had been talking a bit lately. I won’t break a confidence, Tom. But I can tell you what Richard did, through his actions and words, was manipulative. Coercive control. He may have never raised a hand against Rosie but he certainly was controlling.”
I was red hot and cold at the same time. What had that arsehole done to her?
“You want to solve it,” Mum whispered. “You’re our planner, always thinking of solutions but this one isn’t for you to solve.”
