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A cheeky smile is all we can exchange, and I hope my happiness glows bright enough for her to see.
‘You won’t go hungry, then?’ Ma says, with a knowing nod.
‘Not today.’
I’m confident Sketch can spare a slice of bread and some jam. Maybe even a bite of ham. I’m excited just thinking about it.
‘Well, you’d best get your chores done quickly,’ Ma encourages, ‘before your father gets up. You don’t want to give him any reason to find fault.’
Ma and I work in content unison. She cooks while I clean out the fire and set about lighting it anew. The smell of warm, seasoned eggs drags Pa from his bed. He puffs out as if he’s tired from a morning’s work and plonks roughly into the fireside chair behind me.
‘You tell that boy to keep his eyes on the cattle and off my daughter, you hear,’ Pa warns.
I nod and stay watching the fire, willing the dirty grey smoke that trickles out from under the coals to try harder and faster to turn to flames. The back of my head stings suddenly, and my hand reaches to rub it. I spin around to find Pa with an old newspaper rolled up in his hand, satisfied he’s swatted any romantic notions out of my head as if they were a pesky fly.
‘I’m warning you, Annie. Any funny business and I’ll know. I’ve got eyes and ears all over this town. I’ll know.’
Ma distracts Pa when she carries in a plate of piping-hot scrambled eggs. I shake my head at the small yellow mountain on the plate that she rests across his knees. I know she’s given him every egg in the house and kept none for herself. She must be hungry, but she’s determined to fill Pa’s tummy before he leaves.
Three knocks sound on the front door, and I sigh in relief at Sketch’s perfect timing as the smoke in the fire turns to flames.
‘Work hard,’ Ma calls after me with an encouraging smile when I open the front door and wave back at her.
Pa doesn’t look up. His mouth is full of egg, and I’ve no doubt when I see him later, his belly will be full of whiskey.
TWENTY-TWO
HOLLY
I wake with a crick in my neck as a metal hospital chair digs into my spine. My eyes squint and adjust to the light shining from the floor-to-ceiling windows across from me. The waiting area seems less poignant this morning as the sun shines through the trees on the hospital grounds and casts oddly shaped shadows on the floor tiles.
My mother yawns and stirs next to me. I lift my head off her shoulder, and my neck cracks.
‘Good morning, sleepyheads,’ Nate says, appearing around the corner.
‘Ugh, God,’ I grumble, sitting upright and rolling my neck. ‘What time is it?’
‘Almost seven. You got around three hours’ sleep, I think.’ Nate smiles.
‘I feel like I haven’t had three minutes, never mind three hours.’ I rub my eyes. ‘Where are Ben and Dad?’
‘They’re asleep in your dad’s car. I offered to drive them home, but Ben didn’t want to go.’
I smile, proud of my brother.
‘Did you sleep?’ I ask even though the black circles under Nate’s eyes give me my answer.
‘Why don’t you two go home for a while?’ my mother says, standing up to stretch her legs. ‘Holly, you look positively awful.’
‘Thanks,’ I snort.
‘You know what I mean.’ My mother smiles. ‘You need some rest. I’ll phone you the minute I hear more.’
‘Coffee,’ I mumble. ‘I just need coffee.’
‘I’ll get some,’ Nate suggests.
‘Nate, sit down,’ my mother says, and I suspect she’s staring at the same dark circles under Nate’s eyes as I am. ‘I’ll pop down to the canteen. It should be open around now. If I can’t get you to go home and sleep, I can at least get us some decent coffee. I can’t drink any more of that machine stuff; it’s tar. I’m as stiff as a board anyway. I need to walk around. I won’t be long.’
