Bottlebrush Creek Page 14

  ‘Merry Christmas, Ange. Come unwrap your present,’ called Rob. Angie lifted her skirt, opened the gate to the trailer crate and ducked as she stepped up into it. She reached out to pat a tiny calf, whose black nose and mouth seemed attached to Rob’s left hand.

  ‘They’re gorgeous, Rob.’ Angie looked from the crowd to the optimism on Rob’s face, and then back down at the calves. She coughed, trying to shift the gigantic ‘but’ that had formed on her lips. She also snuck a look at Penny, drew strength from her encouraging nod, and tried to forget about their overwhelming to-do list. Accept them and work it out later, she decided, kissing Rob. His delight reassured her she’d made the right decision.

  ‘I think this one’s sick of her ribbon,’ said Rob, his voice hoarse, as the calf tossed its head.

  Angie reached across to untie the ribbon and spotted the ring. She gasped, unable to stop a hand flying to her heart.

  Rob dropped to one knee.

  It took a few seconds before any words would come out of her mouth. It’s a ring. It’s an engagement ring. It’s a whopping great ring.

  ‘Is that what I think it is?’

  Rob’s reply was lost in the children’s chatter. He cleared his throat and tried again. ‘If it was, would you say yes?’

  Giddy laughter rose in Angie’s throat as she nodded. Rob pivoted around, still anchored to the calf by one hand, and took her left hand.

  ‘Will you do me the honour of being my wife?’

  Warmth flooded Angie’s body as she nodded and leaned down to kiss him again.

  ‘We can’t hear you!’ called Penny.

  A chorus of laughter erupted around them as Angie raised her voice. ‘Yes!’

  As soon as the word left her lips, Angie realised her mistake. The calves responded to the sudden noise as if it was a gunshot. The ring-bearing calf shied away and careened into Angie. She felt a blinding pain in her ankle as she toppled onto Rob, looking up in time to watch the calf jump through the gate she’d forgotten to shut. Rob scrambled to close the crate before the other two escaped.

  A flurry of quick instructions rose from the roadside crowd. Angie bit her lip and watched through the steel bars as their families tried to corral the skittish calf. She grimaced at Rob, her stricken expression matching his.

  ‘Jesus, the ring alone’s worth a small fortune,’ Rob groaned.

  The runaway calf let out a nervous bellow.

  ‘Don’t spook him, Harry. You either, Leo,’ said Diana, tugging two of her sons closer to her side as they all took another step inwards to tighten the circle.

  ‘Steady now,’ said John, walking forwards cautiously. His hands were millimetres from the red ribbon when Claudia clapped.

  ‘Shoo, shoo, cows!’ she said, clapping again for good measure, just as Rosa had taught her when they were dealing with stubborn milkers.

  The calf bolted, pushing its way through the human barrier and whizzing past the trailer in a flash of black and white. It was almost comical to see the procession after it: Rosa hopped the fence, jogging behind the shrubs on the roadside, while John, Tim, Lara, Pete and Diana calmly followed the animal down Enderby Lane.

  Angie gave Rob a nervous look. She wasn’t sure how much the ring had cost, or how she’d missed a ring-sized dent in their bank account, but she knew they probably couldn’t afford to replace it if it slipped into the grass. ‘Tell me you tied the knot tightly?’

  ‘Hope so. The calf wasn’t supposed to escape,’ Rob said, opening the gate and holding it for her as they climbed out of the crate.

  ‘Just had to add a little more excitement, right?’ Penny’s hand went to Angie’s arm before returning to her belly. ‘All we need is for my waters to break and we’ll have a hat-trick.’

  Angie swore. ‘Don’t you dare! They’d ambulance you to Ballarat if bub came this early.’

  Rosa emerged from the hedge ahead of the calf.

  ‘Go, Granny!’ yelled Claudia, cheerfully oblivious to her role in the kerfuffle.

  As Rosa quietly stood in the middle of the road, the calf slowed to a hesitant walk and then a stop. Rosa approached the calf quietly, and eventually slipped her hand through the red ribbon. She nodded back at them, letting them know the ring was safe. Angie let out the breath she’d been holding, Rob swore in relief and Claudia gave another little clap of excitement.

  ‘Claud,’ said Rob, tapping the end of her button nose, ‘no more clapping around the calves, okay?’

  Rosa’s cheeks were flushed and her hair had escaped its neat braid by the time she brought the calf back to them. It barely protested as Tim lifted it back into the cattle crate and stood quietly as Rob untied the ribbon.

  ‘Never a dull moment around here,’ said Lara dryly.

  Angie laughed with relief as Rob finally slipped the ring onto her finger. She stretched out her arm to admire the pearl’s luminescence. It’s beautiful, she thought, watching the way the diamonds flanking the pearl tossed beams of sunlight in different directions. She returned everyone’s congratulatory hugs and heard the murmurs of cheerful banter start up again as they strolled back down the lane, glued to Rob’s side.

  ‘Love you, Rob.’

  ‘Lucky. I was gonna look a right fool otherwise. It’ll do the job, then?’

  ‘The ring’s gorgeous.’

  ‘Bit like you. That calf’s called Pearly, by the way,’ Rob said, pulling her closer. She smiled as she slipped into his arms.

  ‘What were you going to call her if I said no?’

  Rob winked at her and squeezed her hand gently. ‘Probably Esmerelda. Or maybe Gertrude.’

  ‘Good thing I said yes, then.’

  Rob pulled her into a tight embrace again, smelling like sweat and burned barbecue. ‘Too right.’

  Angie collapsed into the last remaining deckchair, too tired to carry it back to the shed. She flung an arm over her eyes, blocking out the late afternoon sun, and felt herself drifting off in a glow of champagne and happiness.

  Rob’s hands slipped over her shoulders, gently massaging the knots from running, renovating and Christmas-lunch hosting duties.

  ‘Stick a fork in me, Rob, I’m done,’ she said.

  ‘Not a chance, my lady. I’ve got plans for you. Everyone’s gone home, we don’t need to head to Mum and Dad’s for another two hours or so, and Claudia’s zonked out in her pram. How about we sneak into the van and celebrate?’

  His black hair tickled her neck as he dipped down to nuzzle her earlobe. Encouraged by her lazy smile and arched neck, Rob trailed kisses along her jaw. He paused at her lips and kissed her so gently, it was sweet torture.

  ‘Come on, Mrs Jones-to-be, I’ve got a very special gift in mind, but you’re going to need to slip this off,’ he said, running a fingertip along the neckline of her dress. She shivered, her tiredness replaced by desire. She allowed herself to be pulled from her chair, then grabbed the picnic rug spread out beside the sandpit and pointed to the cottage. ‘Or we could christen our new home?’

  Rob swept her up in his arms and carried her towards the cottage.

  Twenty-one

  Rosa stirred the custard, dividing her attention between the stovetop and the dinner table, trying to pick up the thread of the conversation as it continued without her.

  Angie sat by the window, her curls almost aglow in the last of the Christmas sunshine. Claudia sat by her side, captivated by her new handmade doll. Rosa’s heart swelled as she watched her granddaughter dressing and undressing the crocheted toy. A new outfit each birthday and Christmas, and that little doll will keep her happy for years.

  Rosa smiled as she looked back at her son and husband flanking the southern end of the table. As always, they were seated in their favourite chairs. The place cards had been as unnecessary as the overabundance of food she’d served, but it made her happy to have everything perfect for such a special occasion.

  The conversation wasn’t exactly flowing, but it was a start. Rosa wished again that Max had been able to make it in t
ime for dinner.

  Rosa’s eye fell on Angie again, watching her gaze tilt to her hand. She’d been doing it all throughout dinner, quietly looking at the stunning ring when she thought no one was watching.

  Rosa rested the spoon against the side of the saucepan and lifted the lid from another bubbling pot. The scent of cinnamon and brandy enveloped her as she prodded the calico-wrapped pudding. It smelled about ready. Will Angie recognise the recipe? She hoped so.

  Rosa turned off the gas knobs and wiped her hands on the checked apron. She could have asked the men to help—her back was begging her to sit down—but she was loath to interrupt them. She spread the dainty glass dessert bowls across the benchtop.

  Angie appeared by her side, her ring twinkling under the kitchen downlights as she smoothed down the front of her skirt.

  ‘Can I help, Rosa?’

  ‘No, no, you’ve been rushing around all day. Let me do the honours, it’s not often I have everyone here,’ she said, bustling Angie back to the table. ‘Besides, I need your expert opinion on this pudding, without any sneak peeks.’

  John called across the kitchen. ‘You could make Granny Jones’s pud with your eyes closed. Can’t see why it won’t be delicious like every other year,’ he said.

  ‘Actually, smarty-pants, I’ve got a new recipe this year,’ she replied. She laughed at his expression.

  ‘Messing with tradition … If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it,’ grumbled John.

  ‘Keep your hair on, John Jones. You’ve had thirty-something years of that recipe. I thought a change was in order.’

  Rosa turned her back to the table as she dished up, alternating spoons of the sultana-laden dessert with the thick custard. She wasn’t sure how long Rob and John’s truce would last, but at least they were being civil to each other.

  Rob looked lighter, his happiness enveloping him like an aura as he stood up. ‘Let me help, Mum.’

  ‘No, you sit down,’ she admonished.

  Rob leaned over and kissed her powdered cheek. ‘Thank you, Mum. For everything.’

  She turned abruptly and flung open the freezer. ‘Ice cream, I forgot the ice cream.’ Rob has no idea how much it means to have him and Angie home. One day he’ll understand. She shuffled icy packages of puff pastry, lifting and replacing T-bone steaks and diced beef as she pretended to search for the tub. ‘It’s in here somewhere,’ she said, hoping her tears wouldn’t be frozen on her face for all to see.

  She turned back to the benchtop, took a breath and started scooping ice cream on top of the custard, then began ferrying the bowls to the table.

  ‘Well, what are you all waiting for? Dig in before it goes cold,’ she said, taking a seat herself and scooping up a spoonful. She lifted it to her mouth slowly, savouring her first bite. Nutmeg and walnuts, a gentle fragrant hint of cherry brandy … and the touch of curry powder gave it a certain richness she hadn’t anticipated.

  Rosa glanced at Rob. In unison, they both turned to Angie, watching a kaleidoscope of emotions cross her face: recognition, sorrow, happiness, gratitude. John and little Claudia continued to eat, oblivious. Rosa felt tears welling again.

  ‘Is this … ?’ Angie looked at Rob and then Rosa. Her voice wavered. ‘Tastes just like …’

  ‘Your mum’s Christmas pudding? Yep,’ said Rosa, quietly.

  John paused, the spoon hovering halfway to his mouth as he looked at the three of them. ‘Ah, right. Well, then.’ He returned to his dessert.

  ‘I found your recipe book so your mum could be part of this special day, too,’ said Rob.

  Rosa warmed with motherly pride. My handsome boy with his kind heart. ‘Not that I knew quite how special it was going to be. That proposal was pretty exciting,’ Rosa added.

  ‘I’m so touched … you’ve made it such a special day. Thank you, Rob.’ Tears slipped down Angie’s cheek. ‘And you too, Rosa.’

  Rosa reached across the table, wiping away the tears on Angie’s face as she’d once wiped away those of her own boys.

  And to Rosa’s surprise, John, who had never been much for public speeches or hoo-ha, as he called it, grabbed his water glass and tapped it with his spoon.

  ‘It’s high time Rob realised you were a keeper,’ he said.

  Rosa’s breath caught in her throat. Don’t you dare ruin it, John, she pleaded silently, nudging him in the ribs. Nothing was going to tear apart her family again. She wouldn’t let it.

  John cleared his throat. ‘We’re pleased you’re a part of our family, Angie. Rob has exceptional taste.’

  Rosa smiled. He sure does.

  Angie made shooing noises as she ushered Rosa away from the sink.

  ‘Sit down, Rosa, I insist. You’ve hardly stopped all afternoon. I bet your bones are aching after running to catch the calf,’ she said, recalling how Rosa had winced when she’d eased herself up from the table. ‘Spend time with your boys.’ She opened the door into the lounge room and waited with her hands on her hips but instead Rosa strode past her to the back door and pulled on her boots.

  ‘I’ll be back in a minute,’ said Rosa quietly, slipping into the dark night.

  Angie rolled up her sleeves, wondering what chore Rosa could be doing this late on Christmas night. McIntyre Park Christmas dinners were usually followed by a few drinks on the back verandah, watching the sun sink down over the paddocks—no one did odd jobs outside while the rest of the family watched National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation.

  A sleeping Claudia snuffled in Rob’s arms as he made to get up. ‘I’ll help, Ange.’

  Angie held up a hand, the luminous pearl catching her eye again. She smiled, feeling her cheekbones ache, and then adopted a sterner expression. ‘Stay there, I can handle a few dishes. And besides, my mouth will crack if I smile or laugh any more today,’ she said, closing the door behind her with a gentle click.

  Angie stacked the bowls and plates into the dishwasher, then pulled on Rosa’s washing-up gloves. I’ll have to invest in a pair of these, she mused as she worked.

  It was the first time she’d been alone all day and the peace was glorious. Rob’s surprise proposal had sky-rocketed the emotions and energy of the day, aided and abetted by the extra intake of sweets from not one but two sit-down meals. She’d loved every minute of it but knew without a doubt that she’d be out for the count as soon as her head hit the pillow.

  Mrs Jones. That’ll take a while to get used to.

  Another smile threatened, despite her aching jaw, and she quickly pressed her lips together. She’d finished the dishes and made a pot of tea when the back door opened. She turned, expecting Rosa, but instead the door was filled with a tall form. Max?

  It was just like looking at Rob. The only photo she’d seen of him was the family portrait from the nineties, but the years since had only made their features even more alike.

  Laughter erupted from the lounge room, no doubt Rob in hysterics at Chevy Chase’s antics. She looked at Max.

  ‘Guessing you’re Angie? I’m Max,’ he said, extending his hand.

  Angie shook it woodenly. Rosa may have gathered all of her family together for the final hours of Christmas, but Angie knew tension was about to get a place-setting all of its own.

  There was something about Clark Griswold sabotaging his family Christmas that never got old, and even though he’d watched the movie every Christmas, Rob found himself laughing in unison with his father. It was the only time of the year he willingly sat on the couch with his old man, probably the only time they ever laughed at something together.

  ‘Ange, let the dishes drip-dry! You can’t miss the cat-in-the-tree bit.’ Rob moved Claudia onto the couch and bounded to the kitchen door, but his smile vanished as he opened it.

  Just like looking into a mirror.

  ‘What the hell’s he doing here?’ Rob’s jovial mood vanished instantly. ‘There’s nothing left for you in this town, Max.’

  ‘Merry Christmas to you too, bro.’

  ‘Boys, please. It’s Christmas!�
� Rosa pleaded, rushing into the kitchen after Max.

  Rob fought down his anger. How dare Max come and stuff up our special day? Who else knew he was coming home? Ange’s wide eyes and the thought of Claudia asleep in the lounge room were the only things keeping his clenched fists by his sides.

  His mum looked gutted. What did she expect? Back slaps and a polite recap of events since we last saw each other? Not friggin’ likely.

  John appeared in the kitchen doorway. He and Max shook hands. ‘Surprises all round today,’ said John, walking back into the lounge room. ‘Pull up a pew, Max.’

  Rob’s blood boiled and he stormed to the lounge room doorway. ‘So, everything’s forgotten, is it? He screws me over, nicks off instead of facing his problems, and we just welcome him back into the fold?’

  ‘Steady on, Rob,’ said John.

  Rob stalked past his dad and scooped Claudia up. ‘I’m not staying if he’s here.’

  Angie hesitated, looking between Rob, Max, John and Rosa. The Griswolds’ comedy rolled on in the background. The canned laughter felt gravely out of place in the tense room.

  ‘We’re all adults here, Rob. Max,’ said John.

  Rob’s head throbbed. Appearing immature was the least of his worries. Better than smashing a fist through a wall, or into Max’s tanned face.

  ‘C’mon, Ange,’ Rob said, yanking open the door, relieved when she set down the tea towel and gave Rosa a quick farewell hug.

  ‘Thanks for the pudding,’ said Angie quietly and then followed Rob out the door.

  He shifted Claudia’s sleeping form to his other hip as he climbed over the fence. Angie lifted the top wire and ducked underneath, pulling the basket of presents through with her. Crickets and frogs sang their own Christmas carols down in the swampy end of the paddock, and a fox joined the chorus with an eerie cry from deep in the scrub.

  ‘It was great day until five minutes ago,’ she said, trying to match his long strides. A rabbit skittered out of the scrub, quivering at the sight of them, before racing across the grass.

  Rob reached down and took her hand, running his thumb over her ring, still too angry to speak.