“Yes. That would be fine. By the way, I’ll be checking out in the morning.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
Lulu
Themorningaftermytalk with Dad, I feel a nervous energy I’ve been missing since I left Sydney. There’s an anticipation in the air I can’t quite put my finger on, except to say my mindset around a lot of things has shifted.
Dad is already out on the farm by the time I get to the kitchen for breakfast after my regular morning barf. But Morag is there, peeling vegetables for tonight’s dinner.
“How did your appointment go, hen?” she asks.
“Oh, Morag. It’s incredible. The baby has little arms and legs, and even the start of fingers and toes, and ears and a nose.” I point them out on the little photo we were given.
“I should hope so.” She laughs. Then she turns serious, wiping her hands on a tea-towel and placing her hands on her generous hips. “But what it doesn’t have, hen, is a father. I know it’s not my place to say, but you’re so precious to me and I want to see you happy. Don’t you think it’s time you let the father know what’s going on? If not for you, for your wee bairn?”
I know I’ve been robbing Nick of some incredibly special milestones—like the first ultrasound—by not telling him. But all that stops as of now. I’m booking a ticket to Sydney to sort this mess out. One way or another.
I sigh and flop down onto a kitchen chair. “I know, Morag. I just needed some time. I know I need to tell him. But it’s not an over-the-phone type of conversation.”
“Well, no, you’re quite right. It’s no’ ideal. But we are where we are, and no’ telling him isna’ right.”
Morag makes me a big bowl of porridge and a strong cup of tea before I head out for my usual walk in the hills. The clouds are heavy and dark, but there’s no rain, just an icy wind. I settle down on my favourite protected ledge at the top of the cliffs and look out at the dull grey water. Half a dozen seals are dozing on the rocks below, ignoring the sea birds scuttling around, picking tiny fish from the rock pools exposed by the low tide. The occasional bleating of a sheep breaks up the calls of the seabirds and the roar of the wind. Life here goes on as usual, with no consideration for the turmoil surging through my veins.
This is a beautiful place to raise a child. I didn’t grow up here, but we did visit quite often, and walking the hills with my grandfather, listening to his stories of family history, are some of my most cherished memories. It would be a good life for my child, living here. And I know Da would be a brilliant grandfather.
But what I want is Nick. And he’s in Sydney. In reality, until I tell Nick, and find out for sure what he wants, I can’t make any decisions.
What I don’t want is for Nick to feel trapped. I want him to want me, not feel obliged to take me on because of the baby. And I need him to understand I’m not there because of the baby but because I’ve finally figured out it’s too late to run—I’m already all in. All the way. And I wouldn’t run even if I could.
I head back to the house, working out the time difference as I go. It’s evening in Sydney, and not too late, so I prop myself up on my bed and video call Rosanna.
“Hey, lovely,” she chirps. I can see from the background she’s in the workroom she has set up in her spare bedroom, surrounded by a colourful explosion of fabrics and trims.
“Hey, Ro. How are you?”
“Doing a little off-books work for myself,” she cackles. She’s not supposed to design for anyone else, but she can’t seem to help herself, and the drag scene in Sydney would be the poorer for it if she did. “Move the phone down—let me look at your big fat pregnant belly.”
I do as she asks. “Thanks. Like I’m not feeling fat enough as it is.”
“Whoa. You’re not kidding. You have an actual belly. Are you calling to tell me it’s twins?”
“No, only one bun in this oven, as it turns out.”
“Well, that’s good. Is it normal to be so big at this stage? I imagined it would be weeks before you started to look like that.”
“Apparently, I’m big for my dates. Da says Mum was the same with me.”
“Well, it’s only a belly—you don’t look fat anywhere else. Wait. What? You talked to your dad about your mum?” Her eyes threaten to pop out of her head. Rosanna knows how unusual this is.
“Yep. We had a great talk. He brought her up, so I ran with it and asked. He really opened up.”
“Aww. That must have been so tough for him. And for you. Tough but great. How do you feel?” I can see tears in her eyes, even though she’s smiling from ear to ear.
“Well, it sucks it took an unplanned pregnancy to get there, but I’m glad we’ve finally knocked a hole in the wall. It’ll take more work, but we’re on the right track.”
“Speaking of unplanned pregnancies, how are you feeling?”
“Still hurling every morning.” I grimace at the memory.
