The Patterson Girls (52 page)

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Authors: Rachael Johns

BOOK: The Patterson Girls
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But as she watched Charlie and Mitch, it wasn't the thought of their baby that she envied. It was the warmth and love that shone between the two of them.

Lucinda had that with Joe. Or at least she used to, before she'd let her desperate desire for a baby and then this damn curse nonsense come between them. Her heart ached thinking about how her obsession must have made Joe feel. He'd done his best to be there for her, to try and cheer her up whenever she felt low, but what had she done to comfort him?

Absolutely nothing. Instead she'd made him the enemy.

Shame and sadness washed over her. She'd been gone less than a month but it seemed like forever and she hoped to God it wasn't too long. The emails had helped her feel somewhat connected to him, but they weren't enough. She needed to hear his voice. She needed to tell him how much he meant to her, that he was her world and she was the biggest idiot in it.

Please God, give me another chance.

‘Here you are, Lucinda.' Dad held out a crystal flute of champagne and she took it, summoning a smile. It wasn't often he brought out Mum's best glasses.

‘Thanks, Dad.' She lifted her glass as he made a toast to the lovebirds.

‘Where are you going to live now?' Abigail asked, before taking a sip of her bubbly.

Mitch and Charlie looked at each other and shrugged. ‘We haven't thought that far,' Charlie admitted. ‘This is all very new.'

‘And wonderful,' Abigail said.

‘Yes,' agreed the sisters, quickly exchanging knowing glances. A baby was fantastic news, but what it meant—that the curse was broken—was also wonderful.

The five of them sat sipping champagne and Charlie drank orange juice, while she and Mitch fielded more questions about how long this had been going on, how they'd gotten together and whether they had any names for the baby yet.

‘Give them time to digest the idea they're going to be parents first,' Madeleine said, shaking her head at Abigail's enthusiasm.

‘Speaking of parents.' Mitch put his glass down on the coffee table. ‘We should go and tell Dad. Don't want him hearing the news from anybody else.'

‘Good idea,' Dad said, standing. ‘And do you mind if I tell Mrs Sampson?'

‘Not at all,' Mitch and Charlie said at once.

‘And Dad?' Madeleine said, raising her eyebrows at him. ‘Don't you think it's time you started calling her Sally? Now you're joint owners of a caravan and … everything.'

Lucinda suspected it was the ‘everything' that made him blush.

Charlie and Mitch headed off to the care facility at Port Augusta and Dad went to find Mrs Sampson, leaving Lucinda, Madeleine and Abigail alone to discuss what had just happened. The first thing they mentioned was the curse.

‘Well, that proves that wrong.' Madeleine slumped back against the couch, suddenly looking weary. ‘Thank God we didn't go and confront that poor old lady. I can't believe I even harboured the possibility of it being real.'

Abigail laughed, reached across the table and emptied the last of the sparkling wine into her glass.

Madeleine shot her and Lucinda a glare. ‘I blame you two for leading me astray.'

‘Hey!' Lucinda objected. ‘It was your idea to go see her.'

‘Didn't you suspect anything was going on with Charlie and Mitch?' Abigail asked.

‘No.' Lucinda shook her head. ‘They've always spent a lot of time together, so I never thought anything of it.' Besides, she silently added, she'd been too full of her own woes to pay much attention to the goings on around her.

They were all quiet for a moment, as if digesting the news.

Madeleine finally broke the silence. ‘Luce, are you okay about all this? We know how much you want a baby.'

‘You guys did too.'

Madeleine shrugged. ‘Yes, but my marriage hasn't broken up because of it.'

‘And me wanting a baby was insanity.' Abigail half-laughed. ‘I can barely cook toast without burning it. How would I ever have looked after another human?'

Lucinda forced a smile and held her head high. ‘I'm okay about the baby, really. And …' She couldn't wait another moment. She put her glass on the coffee table and stood. ‘I'm sorry, there's something I need to do. I'll see you guys, later, okay?'

‘Do you think she's just pretending to be fine?' Abigail asked Madeleine when they heard the door to Lucinda's bedroom close.

‘I'm not sure. It's a lot to take in for all of us, but I do think it's possible to be happy for someone else while still being sad for yourself.'

‘Is that how you feel?'

‘I'm not sad,' Madeleine said, ‘more like annoyed with myself for wasting my energies on a man who was never going to love me back. If I decide I still want to have a baby on my own, there are plenty of other options. But this time, I'll be more careful about who I choose as a donor.'

‘I can't understand why Hugo would choose Celia over you. From what you've told me, she sounds like a mental case.'

‘Thanks. But she's not that bad. And you might be a little biased where I'm concerned.'

‘I don't think so.' Abigail shook her head and Madeleine felt so much love and affection for her little sister. If anything good had come of this whole debacle, it was that it had brought her and her sisters together again.

She and Lucinda had been talking and emailing more since Lucinda had confessed her fertility issues, and she and Abigail had bonded over tiny bottles of wine and broken hearts during their long flight home. They would recover from all of this, because they had each other and Charlie and Mitch's baby to look forward to. She had faith that Lucinda and Joe would work things out. Abigail was young and full of life, and love would find her again. And although Madeleine felt a lot older and a whole heap more cynical, she guessed things would turn out okay for her in the end as well.

The only thing that couldn't be fixed was the fact Mum would never meet Charlie's baby, or any other grandkids that might follow. That thought brought an ache to her heart far greater than the realisation that Hugo would never love her back had done. Maybe it was jet lag, maybe it was the surprising turn of events and emotion of the day—maybe she was just turning into a sook—but her eyes prickled with near-tears.

And then the buzzer sounded in the kitchen, indicating that someone was waiting at reception. Blinking, Madeleine pasted a smile on her face and heaved herself off the couch. ‘I'll go,' she said, glad of the distraction.

She pushed open the door into the motel and found a tall, blond man standing there. He was incredibly good looking, built like an ironman and tanned, even though it was the middle of winter. Maybe he was a gift from God, a sign that there really were more fish in the sea. Pity this one looked about ten years too young for her.

‘Hi there.' She leant over the computer and clicked on the bookings program. ‘Do you have a reservation?'

‘Uh, no.' He wiped his hand across his brow and she noticed there were beads of perspiration there. ‘I'm looking for Abigail Patterson. Is she here?'

Madeleine raised one eyebrow and took a closer look at him. Was this? Could he be? ‘Are you … Nigel?'

He blinked. ‘Yes. And you are?'

She offered her hand across the counter. ‘Madeleine. Madeleine Patterson. Abigail's older sister.'

‘Oh, right, hi. Pleased to meet you. I can see the resemblance. She's told me lots about you. I thought you lived in the States?'

Madeleine chuckled. ‘Not anymore. And don't believe a word she's said about me. I'm sure it's all lies.'

He smiled—it was a sexy smile and Madeleine could see why Abigail was so taken with him.

‘You're a long way from home.'

‘No, my family only lives in Adelaide.'

‘I meant from London.' The poor man was shaking and she guessed she should put him out of his misery.

‘So you want to see my sister?'

He nodded.

‘You're not going to break her heart all over again are you? Because you should know, I may look sweet and harmless but if you mess with Abigail's emotions, the only way you'll be leaving Meadow Brook again is in a box.'

Nigel's eyes widened.

‘Are we on the same page?'

‘Yes, ma'am. I have a little sister I feel exactly the same way about.' He put a hand on his heart. ‘I promise, if I wanted to hurt Abigail, I wouldn't be here.'

Satisfied, Madeleine nodded. ‘In that case, come with me.' She beckoned him round the desk and he followed her through the door into the house.

Chapter Forty-six

‘Hey.'

Lucinda said a silent prayer of thanks when Joe answered the phone, but then found herself tongue-tied. She had so much to say but didn't know where to start and the sound of his deep, sexy and ever-so-familiar voice had distracted her. ‘Charlie's pregnant,' she blurted.

A moment's silence, the time necessary to register the news, and then, ‘Shit, Luce … Are you okay?'

Tears sprouted in her eyes at the warmth, concern and sympathy in his voice. It meant something that this was his first question, rather than the obvious,
Who's the father?

‘I am actually.' She found her words. ‘And Joe, I'm not ringing to whine about the unfairness or to solicit sympathy, I'm ringing because I can't go another day without hearing your voice.'

He sighed. ‘It's good to hear you too, but—'

‘Please Joe, let me speak. I need to get this off my chest.'

‘Okay. Sorry.'

As she settled back against the pillows on her bed, she took a deep breath, hoping she could get this right. ‘Mitch is the father of Charlie's baby. Unbeknownst to us all they've become more than friends. Their relationship is still new and the baby was a surprise, but when they told us all, I couldn't get past how right it felt. Those two have always been meant for each other, it simply took a while for them to work it out. And I realised something else: you and I are exactly the same.'

She paused a moment, her throat choking up with emotion.

‘We're meant to be together. I'm empty inside right now and it's not because of the baby thing. It's because my life has no meaning without you in it.'

‘Lucinda,' he broke in, ‘you say that now, but you can't help yourself. I'm a mess without you and I miss you like crazy, but I can't go through that stress again. I can't watch you selfdestruct and not be able to do a thing about it. It hurts too damn much that I'm not enough.'

‘You are enough!' She knew that now, but why couldn't she find the right words to make him believe? ‘
Please
, Joe, I want to make this work. I love you and I want you and our marriage back again. I want it more than I want a baby. I know it won't be easy but I want to change. Please, give me the chance to try.'

He was quiet again and her heart beat wildly as she waited for him to say something.

She couldn't stand it. ‘What do
you
want, Joe? Do you still love me?' As much as it would hurt, if he told her no she would somehow walk away.

‘Dammit, Lucinda, what kind of question is that?' He exhaled. ‘Will you agree to marriage counselling?'

A spark of hope lit inside her. He may not have confessed undying love and devotion, but marriage counselling? From a bloke who generally thought stuff like that was for sissies? That was a very good sign. ‘Yes. I'll do anything.'

‘Okay, then.'

‘Okay?'

‘Come home,' he said softly. ‘The bed doesn't smell right without you anyway.'

She couldn't speak past the lump of emotion in her throat. Tears streamed silently down her cheeks.

Eventually, Joe broke the silence. ‘So, Charlie and Mitch, hey? We picked that years ago.'

‘Yes, we did.'

He chuckled. ‘I guess this disproves that whole curse thing too.'

‘Yes, it does.' Her cheeks felt hot. ‘I can't believe I ever believed such nonsense.'

‘To be fair,' Joe said, ‘our situation even made me wonder.'

They both laughed.

And then somehow they talked—about Charlie and Mitch, Madeleine, Abigail, Dad and Mrs Sampson, about Rosa and the rest of Joe's massive family, about how Lucinda had cut her finger in the kitchen that morning and about the crap show Joe had watched on television last night because he'd lost the remote and couldn't be bothered to get up and change the channel manually. They talked for an hour and they could have spoken for longer, but Joe said he had to go because he was late for Sunday lunch at his parents' place.

‘What did you tell them about us?' Lucinda asked.

‘I said Brian needed you at the motel and you'd gone home for a few weeks to help.'

She did a little fist pump. This proved he never wanted her to stay away or he would have told them the truth. ‘Say Hi to everyone for me,' she said.

‘I will. And Luce, go book your plane ticket.'

What now?
Abigail sighed and stretched out on the couch, her legs taking up the space that Madeleine had just vacated. She stared at the empty bottle of sparkling wine—although she'd had one more glass than everyone else, she could go another. Besides, it was Sunday afternoon and it wasn't like she had anything better to do now the visit to Wanda was off the agenda. She'd decided that morning that tomorrow was T-Day—
time
to stop wallowing and do something with her life. That something would involve printing up a flyer about being available to give music lessons and taking those flyers to the few shops around town. She might even splurge for an ad in the
Meadow Brook Messenger,
the local rag run by volunteers, which usually had more adverts than actual news.

But all those things were for tomorrow, so she might as well indulge herself today.

Maybe when Madeleine returned, she'd suggest they crack open another bottle. After all, they were going to be aunties. The sisterly thing to do would be to celebrate. Although Lucinda might not feel up to it. The ache in Abigail's already tender heart grew even stronger whenever she thought about Lucinda and Joe. Most of the time she forgot about it because the idea of them
not
being together was ludicrous, but when she remembered she felt utterly helpless and miserable. Should she get up off her lazy bum and go check on her, or did Lucinda need some time alone?

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