Rebecca sat in her car outside the pretty house at the end of a quiet street and took a few deep breaths. She’d been home almost four months now and she’d finally made it all the way to the front of the house without turning the car around and breaking out in a cold sweat.
As she walked up the footpath, she could feel her heart thudding painfully against her chest. Her palms were sweaty and she felt nauseated, but she gritted her teeth and pushed on. This path had never felt so damn long before. Then she was standing in front of the Federation-green door with its polished brass knocker and the gleaming nameplate that said MCDONALD COTTAGE. Closing her eyes and dropping her head, she rattled the knocker and concentrated on breathing evenly.
The light footsteps on the other side of the door stopped and the doorknob rattled and when the door opened, Rebecca caught sight of the serene face of her best friend’s mother. The best friend she’d lain beside in the wreckage of their car.
Holding her breath, Rebecca waited for some sign of grief-stricken outrage or cold indifference, but instead a gentle smile spread across the lovely face as the screen door eased open and she was engulfed in a warm, surprisingly strong, hug from a woman who’d always seemed so small and fragile.
‘Hello, Rebecca. I’ve been waiting for you to visit,’ the woman said softly against her hair, and Rebecca felt hot tears stream down her face.
She wasn’t sure how long they stood there for, her tears and small sobs racking her body, but all the while, Roma McDonald held her tightly and let her vent her sorrow. There was a lot of it – eighteen years’ worth to be exact.
Later, seated at the scrubbed timber table in the McDonalds’ kitchen, Rebecca felt as though time had been suspended and she was ten years old again, eating homemade biscuits and drinking milk after school. But as her eyes rested on the empty chair across from her, she felt that familiar, overwhelming rush of pain and loss. Reggie wouldn’t ever be sitting in her spot again. They’d never laugh so hard they snorted milk through their noses, or tease each other over boyfriends or plan sleepovers or birthday parties. So many memories came from sitting around this old table. They’d sat here and discussed their debut dresses and quizzed each other over the road rules before they went for their learner’s permits and celebrated getting their P plates. So many beautiful memories happened in this cheerful old kitchen with the sunflower wallpaper.
‘Mrs McDonald –’
‘Roma. You’re a grown woman now, Rebecca. Makes me feel so old to hear you call me Mrs McDonald now,’ she teased lightly.
Calling her best friend’s mother by her first name was not something that Rebecca’s upbringing allowed her to do easily, and just thinking of it made her feel as though her mother would appear at any moment with a horrified frown. ‘I’m so sorry it’s taken me so long to do this. I can’t imagine how ridiculous you must think I am.’
‘I heard you were back in town,’ Roma said as she pushed the coffee plunger down, sending the rich aroma of roasted beans through the room. ‘I knew you’d be around in your own good time.’
‘I’ve tried a lot of times. Over the years, I’ve snuck away while we were visiting Mum and Dad to drop by but I never seemed to make it past the turnoff to your street,’ she admitted, staring into the cup that Roma placed before her.
‘Everyone deals with it in their own way. Don’t be too hard on yourself, Becca.’
‘How’s Mr – John,’ she corrected quickly, as the older woman lifted an amused eyebrow.
‘He’s well. Out playing golf, as usual. I’m afraid, since he retired last year, he’s found a brand new passion in golf. I think he’d sleep out there on the golf course if they let him.’ She spoke with the long-suffering tolerance of a woman secure in the knowledge that her husband of over forty years loved and cherished her.
‘And the boys?’ Rebecca asked.
A proud smile broke out across Roma’s face as she filled Rebecca in on her two eldest children’s families and the grandchildren she now had.
Rebecca bit her lip hard to keep her emotions under wraps – she’d fallen apart enough in front of this poor woman to do it again – but Roma tilted her head slightly to one side and watched her closely.
‘What is it, dear?’ she asked softly.
Rebecca shook her head, and forced the worst of the tears away.
‘How many children do you have?’
With a smile, she took a shaky breath. ‘Two girls.’
‘I’d love to meet them. Will you bring them over for afternoon tea one day?’
‘I’d like that.’
‘Good.’ She looked out the window with a view over the backyard and the farmland below, her gaze softening. ‘I still feel her around me, you know,’ she almost whispered, then lifted her eyes to meet Rebecca’s slowly. ‘I’d never tell John, of course – he’d think I was losing my mind – but I do.’
Rebecca found it difficult to swallow past the constriction in her throat. ‘I wish I did. I miss her so much, Roma.’
‘You two were so close, more like sisters than best friends. I know you must miss her, but I can see she still lives through you. Maybe it’s selfish of me, but I was so hoping you’d eventually visit. I knew when I heard about your life and your children and all the things you’ve been doing, I’d feel somehow connected to her again.’
‘I’ve never been able to stop feeling guilty. When I had Natalie, I cried for a week,’ she admitted. She’d been an emotional wreck. Matthew had been almost beside himself, juggling a hysterical wife and a newborn baby. The doctors had put it down to hormones and maybe it had been in part, but deep down she knew it was because every time she looked down into that precious little wrinkled face all she could think was Reggie. Reggie, who would never have the chance to be a mother. Never get to give her mum a houseful of grandbabies to spoil. Never see them grow up and get married … Reggie was gone forever.
Every major life event since the accident had been the same. She almost couldn’t go through with her wedding day and had had a panic attack at the door of the church as the same regrets rose in her mind. Reggie should have been down at the front of the church, waiting with the other bridesmaids and giving her the thumbs up – and she wasn’t.
‘Reggie would be the first one to tell you to get over it, already,’ Roma said, smiling to soften her words.
A small chuckle caught Rebecca unaware and she sniffed, reaching for a tissue from the middle of the table. ‘Yeah, she would.’
‘So. You bring those babies of yours over for me to spoil and I’ll forgive you for keeping me waiting eighteen years to clear the air.’
The afternoon passed in a long trip down memory lane and Rebecca was surprised to find she actually enjoyed it. Far from being the morbid visit she’d been dreading, seeing Roma lifted a huge weight from her heavy heart and freed her of the burden of guilt she’d been harbouring for so long.
An image of Seb crossed her mind and she wondered how she’d be able to get him to come and meet with Roma and John, to ease a little of the guilt that he kept strapped firmly around him too. It’d take more than an afternoon over coffee and shared memories to penetrate that fortress of misery, though: Rebecca’s guilt was born from having her best friend taken from her too early – Seb’s guilt stemmed from the fact that he was driving the car she was killed in.
Rebecca glanced up as she sat at the nurses’ station writing up her notes at the end of her shift, and felt as though the air had been sucked from her lungs. Seb stood there, resting his folded arms on the top of the tall front desk, waiting silently for her to acknowledge him.
‘Seb. Hi. What are you doing here?’
‘I’m about to head down to my physio appointment and thought I’d better report in, you know, so you don’t go calling my boss and getting me in trouble,’ he said with a straight face.
‘Well it’s nice to see there’s at least one person who can put the fear of god into you still,’ she muttered dryly.
‘Yeah, there’s one or two who can still do that.’
A buzzer went off behind her and automatically Rebecca turned to check the bed number. ‘I have to go. I’m glad you’ve decided to keep up with your rehab, though. Now I won’t have to drive out there and harass you any more.’
‘I think Dad was counting on it. He’s never gone out and bought me special biscuits for afternoon tea.’
Rebecca’s forehead crinkled. ‘Then maybe you should use this time to get to know him again.’
She saw a guarded expression creep back into his eyes as he straightened and moved away from the desk. ‘I’ll see you around, Bec.’
Rebecca gave a slight nod, and watched his broad back as it disappeared down the long corridor. He held himself upright and stiff, a combination of pain and training and, she suspected, more than a hint of irritation.
Seb and his father had never had a close relationship. Having watched them butt heads when Seb was a hot-headed teenager, Rebecca realised now that she’d never really understood the dynamics of their relationship. Time seemed to have mellowed them both and she hoped that Seb would be able to let down his guard long enough for his father to see the man his son had grown into. Maybe they could try to mend a few of those fences that continued to hold them both back.
The sound of the buzzer once more claimed her attention and she hurried to answer the call. For now, Sebastian Taylor would have to sort out his own problems; it was nothing to do with her. He’d made that perfectly clear eighteen years ago.