First Comes Baby...: The Loner's Guarded Heart (4 page)

She shook herself. ‘I’ll...um...go and put the percolator on.’

Ben moved towards the doorway. ‘I’ll make myself scarce.’

‘No, Benjamin, it’s fortunate you’re here,’ her father said. ‘Elsie rang me when she heard you arrive. That’s why we’re here. What we have to say will affect you too.’

Ben glanced at Meg. She shrugged. All four of them in the kitchen made everything suddenly awkward. She thought fast. Her father would expect her to serve coffee in the formal lounge room. It was where he’d feel most comfortable.

It was the one room where Ben would feel least comfortable.

‘Dad, why don’t you and Elsie make yourselves comfortable in the family room? It’s so lovely and sunny in there. I’ll bring coffee and cake through in a moment.’ Before her father could protest she turned to Ben. Getting stuck making small talk with her father and Elsie would be his worst nightmare. ‘I’d appreciate it if you could set a tray for me.’

He immediately leapt into action. She turned away to set the percolator going. When she turned back her father and Elsie had moved into the family room.

‘What’s with them?’ Ben murmured.

‘I don’t know, but I told you last time you were here that something was going down with them.’

They took the coffee and cake into the family room. Meg poured coffee, sliced cake and handed it around.

She took a sip of her decaf and lifted a morsel of cake to her mouth. ‘This is
very
good.’

Her father and Elsie sat side by side on the sofa, stiff and formal. They didn’t touch their coffee or their cake. They didn’t appear to have a slouchy, comfortable bone between them. With a sigh, Meg set her fork on the side of her plate. If she’d been hoping the family room would loosen them up she was sorely disappointed.

She suddenly wanted to shake them! Neither one of them had asked Ben how he was doing, where he’d been, or how long he’d been back. Her hand clenched around her mug. They gave off nothing but a great big blank.

She glanced at Ben. He lounged in the armchair opposite, staring at his cake and gulping coffee. She wanted to shake him too.

She thumped her mug and cake plate down on the coffee table and pasted her brightest smile to her face. She utterly refused to do
blank
. ‘While it’s lovely to see you both, I get the impression this isn’t a social visit. You said there’s something you wanted to tell us?’

‘That’s correct, Megan.’

Her father’s name was Lawrence Samuel Parrish. If they didn’t call him Mr Parrish—people, that was, colleagues and acquaintances—they called him Laurie. She stared at him and couldn’t find even a glimpse of the happy-go-lucky ease that ‘Laurie’ suggested. Did he resent the familiarity of that casual moniker?

It wasn’t the kind of question she could ever ask. They didn’t have that kind of a relationship. In fact, when you got right down to brass tacks, she and her father didn’t have any kind of relationship worth speaking of.

Her father didn’t continue. Elsie didn’t take up where he left off. In fact the older woman seemed to be studying the ceiling light fixture. Meg glanced up too, but as far as she could tell there didn’t seem to be anything amiss—no ancient cobwebs or dust, and it didn’t appear to be in imminent danger of dropping on their heads.

‘Well!’ She clapped her hands and then rubbed them together. ‘We’re positively agog with excitement—aren’t we, Ben?’

He started. ‘We are?’

If she’d been closer she’d have kicked him. ‘Yes, of course we are.’

Not.

Hmm... Actually, maybe a bit. This visit really was unprecedented. It was just that this ritual of her doing her best to brisk them up and them steadfastly resisting had become old hat. And suddenly she felt too tired for it.

She stared at
Laurie
and Elsie. They stared back, but said nothing. With a shrug she picked up her mug again, settled back in her
easy
chair and took a sip. She turned to Ben to start a conversation.
Any
conversation.

‘Which part of the world have you been jaunting around this time?’

He turned so his body was angled towards her, effectively excluding the older couple. ‘On safari in Africa.’

‘Lions and elephants?’

‘More than you could count.’

‘Elsie and I are getting married.’

Meg sprayed the space between her and Ben with coffee. Ben returned the favour. Elsie promptly rose and took their mugs from them as they coughed and coughed. Her father handed them paper napkins. It was the most animated she’d ever seen them. But then they sat side-by-side on the sofa again, as stiff and formal as before.

Meg’s coughing eased. She knew she should excuse herself for such disgusting manners, but she didn’t. For once she asked what was uppermost in her mind. ‘Are you serious?’

Her father remained wooden. ‘Yes.’

That was it. A single yes. No explanation. No declaration of love. Nothing.

She glanced at Ben. He was staring at them as if he’d never seen them before. He was staring at them with a kind of fascinated horror, as if they were a car wreck he couldn’t drag his gaze from.

She inched forward on her seat, doing all she could to catch first her father’s and then Elsie’s eyes. ‘I don’t mean to be impertinent, but...
why
?’

‘That
is
impertinent.’ Her father’s chin lifted. ‘And none of your business.’

‘If it’s not my business then I don’t know who else’s it is,’ she shot back, surprising herself. Normally she was the keeper of the peace, the smoother-over of awkward moments, doing all she could to make things easy for this pair who, it suddenly occurred to her, had never exactly made things easy for either her or Ben.

‘I told you they wouldn’t approve!’ Elsie said.

‘Oh, it’s not that I don’t approve,’ Meg managed.

‘I don’t,’ Ben growled.

She stared at him. ‘Yeah, but you don’t approve of marriage on principle.’ She rolled her eyes. Did he seriously think he wanted to be a father?

Think about that later
.

She turned back to the older couple. ‘The thing is, I didn’t even know you were dating. Why the secrecy? And...and... I mean...’

Her father glanced at Elsie and then at Meg. ‘What?’ he rapped out.

‘Do you love each other?’

Elsie glanced away. Her father’s mouth opened and closed but no sound came out.

‘I mean, surely that’s the only good reason to marry, isn’t it?’

Nobody said anything. Her lips twisted.
Have a banana, Meg
. Was she the only person in this room who believed in love—good, old-fashioned, rumpy-pumpy love?

‘Elsie and I have decided that we’ll rub along quite nicely together.’

She started to roll her eyes at her father’s pomposity, but then he did something extraordinary—he reached out and clasped Elsie’s hand. Elsie held his hand on her lap and it didn’t look odd or alien or wrong.

Meg stared at those linked hands and had to fight down a sudden lump in her throat. ‘In that case, congratulations.’ She rose and kissed them both on the cheek.

Ben didn’t join her.

She took her seat and sent him an uneasy glance. ‘Ben?’

He shrugged. ‘It’s no business of mine.’ He lolled in his chair with almost deliberate insolence. ‘They’re old enough to know what they want.’

‘Precisely,’ her father snapped.

She rubbed her forehead. No amount of smoothing would ease this awkward moment. She decided to move the moment forward instead. ‘So, where will you live?’

‘We’ll live in my apartment at Nelson Bay.’

She turned to Elsie. ‘What will you do with your house?’

Before he’d retired Meg’s father had been a property developer. He still had a lot of contacts in the industry. Maybe they’d sell it. Maybe she’d end up with cheerful neighbours who’d wave whenever they saw her and have young children who’d develop lifelong friendships with her child.

‘I’m going to give it to Ben.’

Ben shot upright to tower over all of them. ‘I don’t want it!’

Her father rose. ‘That’s an ungracious way to respond to such a generous gift.’

Ben glared at his grandmother. ‘Is he railroading you into this?’

‘Most certainly not!’ She stood too. ‘Meg’s right. She’s seen what you haven’t—or what you can’t. Not that I can blame you for that. But...but Laurie and I love each other. I understand how hard you might find that to believe after the way the two of us have been over the years, but I spent a lot of time with him when he was recuperating.’ She shot Meg an almost apologetic glance that made Meg fidget. ‘When you were at work, that is. We talked a lot. And we’re hoping it’s not too late for all of us to become a family,’ she finished falteringly, her cheeks pink with self-consciousness.

It was one of the longest speeches Meg had ever heard her utter, but one glance at Ben and she winced.

‘A family?’ he bellowed.

‘Sit!’ Meg hollered.

Everyone sat, and then stared at her in varying degrees of astonishment. She marvelled at her own daring, and decided to bluff it out. ‘Have you set a date for the wedding?’

Elsie darted a glance at Meg’s father. ‘We thought the thirtieth of next month.’

Next month? The end of March?

That was only six weeks away!

‘We’ll be married by a celebrant at the registry office. We’d like you both to be there.’ Her father didn’t look at her as he spoke.

‘Of course.’ Though heaven only knew how she’d get Ben there. He avoided weddings like the plague—as if he thought they might somehow be catching.

‘And where have you settled on for your honeymoon?’

‘I...’ He frowned. ‘We’re too old for a honeymoon.’

She caught his eye. ‘Dad, do you love Elsie?’

He swallowed and nodded. She’d never seen him look more vulnerable in his life.

She blinked and swallowed. ‘Then you’re not too old for a honeymoon.’ She hauled in a breath. ‘And, like Elsie, are you hoping to rebuild family ties?’

‘I sincerely hope so, Megan. I mean, you have a baby on the way now.’

Correction—she’d never seen him look more vulnerable until
now
. He was proffering the olive branch she’d been praying for ever since she was eight years old, and she found all she wanted to do was run from the room. A great ball of hardness lodged in her stomach. Her father was willing to change for a grandchild, but not for
her
.

‘Meg.’

She understood the implicit warning Ben sent her. He didn’t want her hurt or disappointed.
Again.
She understood then that the chasm between them all might be too wide ever to be breached.

She folded her arms, her brain whirling. Very slowly, out of the mists of confusion and befuddlement—and resentment—a plan started to form. She glanced at the happy couple. A plan perfect in its simplicity. She glanced at Ben. A plan devious in design.
A family, huh?
They’d see about that. All of them. Laurie and Elsie, and Ben too.

She stood and moved across to Ben’s chair. ‘You must allow Ben and I to throw you a wedding—a proper celebration to honour your public commitment to each other.’

‘What the—?’

Ben broke off with a barely smothered curse when she surreptitiously pulled his hair.

‘Oh, that’s not necessary—’ Elsie started.

‘Of course it is!’ Meg beamed at her. ‘It will be our gift to you.’

Her father lumbered to his feet, panic racing across his face. Meg winked at Elsie before he could speak. ‘Every woman deserves a wedding day, and my father knows the value of accepting generosity in the spirit it’s given. Don’t you, Dad?’
Family, huh?
Well, he’d have to prove it.

He stared at her, dumbfounded and just a little...afraid? That was when it hit her that all his pomposity and stiffness stemmed from nervousness. He was afraid that she’d reject him. The thought made her flinch. She pushed it away.

‘We’ll hold the wedding here,’ she told them, lifting her chin. ‘It’ll be a quiet affair, but classy and elegant.’

‘I...’ Her father blinked.

Ben slouched down further in his chair.

Elsie studied the floor at her feet.

Meg met her father’s gaze. ‘I believe thank you is the phrase you’re looking for.’ She sat and lifted the knife. ‘More cake, anyone?’ She cut Ben another generous slice. ‘Eat up, Ben. You’re looking a bit peaky. I need you to keep your strength up.’

He glowered at her. But he demolished the cake. After the smallest hesitation, Elsie forked a sliver of cake into her mouth. Her eyes widened. Her head came up. She ate another tiny morsel. Watching her, Laurie did the same.

* * *

‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’ Ben rounded on her the instant the older couple left.

She folded her arms and nodded towards the staircase. ‘You want to go take that nap?’

He thrust a finger under her nose. ‘What kind of patsy do you take me for? I am
not
helping you organise some godforsaken wedding. You got that?’

Loud and clear.

‘The day after tomorrow I’m out of here, and I won’t be back for a good three months.’

Exactly what she’d expected.

‘Do you hear me, Meg? Can I make myself any clearer?’

‘The day after tomorrow, huh?’

‘Yes.’

‘And you won’t be back until around May?’

‘Precisely.’ He set off towards the stairs.

She folded her arms even tighter. She waited until he’d placed his foot on the first riser. ‘So you’ve given up on the idea of fatherhood, then?’

He froze. And then he swung around and let forth with a word so rude she clapped her hands across her stomach in an attempt to block her unborn baby’s ears.
‘Ben!’

‘You...’ The finger he pointed at her shook.

‘I
nothing
,’ she shot back at him, her anger rising to match his. ‘You can’t just storm in here and demand all the rights and privileges of fatherhood unless you’re prepared to put in the hard yards. Domesticity and commitment includes dealing with my father and your grandmother. It includes helping out at the odd wedding, attending baptisms and neighbourhood pool parties and all those other things you loathe.’