It turned out several people from neighbouring farms were spending their nights here behind secure fences, then returning to their own homes during the day. In time, I could see them moving here permanently, but for now, it was more important to hang onto whatever normality they could.
I was introduced to Barb and John, a grey-haired couple in their sixties who ran a sheep farm; Alan and his son, Joel, who grew canola crops on the outskirts of town, and Alicia, a woman in her thirties who operated a candle and soap shop from her home.
I sat at the dining table beside Mia, watching as she cared for Brynn with more experienced hands than mine. She’d set her on a cushioned dining chair, offering her mashed apple from a pot she warmed by the fire. Brynn devoured the food rather than refusing it, and Mia wiped her mouth after each bite.
“How old do you think she is?” I asked. We’d already tried her on the floor to see if she was a crawler or a walker. It turned out she was neither. She sat still for a few minutes, getting the lay of the land, then did an adorable bum shuffle over to a chair, which she used to pull herself up and stand.
Mia crinkled her nose. “I’d say eleven months, give or take a couple of weeks. You should pick a birthdate for her, now you've given her a name.”
I'd add that to the list of things that had never occurred to me. “I’m so glad you’re here,” I said. “I don’t know what I’m doing, and it’s not like I can look it up on the Internet anymore.”
“We’ll figure it out together and get her into a new routine—but you two can take a break tonight,” she said with an understanding smile. “I’ll look out for little Brynnie while you get some sleep.”
“Are you sure?” I leaned my elbows on the table, my gaze shifting to where Theo sat amongst the others in the lounge area.
Mia offered Brynn another spoonful of apple. “I’m sure,” she said. “She’s an angel, and it’s taking me back to when Ruby was a baby. I don’t mind at all.”
“Thank you.” Relief washed over me, and the tiredness I’d been keeping at bay hit me like a tidal wave. “I’ll soak up any advice you have to offer tomorrow, I promise. I want to learn everything.”
She smiled. “No rush. I’m just glad you both came. Theo didn’t say much when we were talking on the phone, but I read between the lines and got the impression you wouldn’t be easy to convince.”
“I wasn’t.” I tucked my hair behind my ear. “My sister’s missing, and I told her I’d wait for her at my place.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” Mia pursed her lips and scraped the last spoonful of apple from the bowl. “That’s tough.”
I nodded, attempting to push out thoughts of Ava. “Looks like Ruby’s been missing Theo.”
She hadn’t left his side once. Not when we were talking in low voices about what had happened, or when his dad squeezed his shoulder now and then as if to convince himself he was here. She perched on the arm of the couch with Theo’s hand held between both of hers, playing with the friendship bracelet that never seemed to leave his wrist.
“She was really upset about losing Wi-Fi,” Mia said, following my line of sight. “Catching up with him online helped get her through the pandemic.”
“She might see him too much now.” I smiled as his eyes met mine across the room. It didn’t matter how often we’d been apart in the hours since we’d arrived, he was always seeking me out, sharing glances, touching me in passing.
“I doubt it,” Mia said with a laugh. “I think you’ll be getting most of his attention.” She wiped Brynn’s mouth with a cloth and lifted her from the chair, holding her against her chest.
I didn’t know what to say, so I let my reddened cheeks do the talking.
Eventually, when Brynn was cleaned up, changed, and asleep in a corner of the lounge room, Theo came over to me with a lantern in one hand. “Ready to crash?”
I nodded, and he laced his fingers with mine, pulling me up from the chair.
Together we left the loud chatter and laughter behind us.
Thirty-Six
theo
Iled Sadie down the hallway, the lantern casting shadows over the walls as we wandered into my room.
Posters were still hung on the walls from my teen years, bands and singers I hadn’t heard of in a while. A queen size bed sat in the centre of the room, the bedside tables cleared of all the junk I used to leave there.
Nothing else had changed. The same dark green bedding and oak frame, the same tallboy filled with football trophies, as if I could move back in here any minute—and I had.
I slanted Sadie a look and gave an embarrassed laugh. “I keep forgetting this place is a time capsule.”
“Your dad must have really missed you.” Her hand left mine as she moved further into the room. She picked up a trophy and read the engraving. “He kept things exactly how you left them,” she said, looking up at me. “It’s sweet.”
Our bags were on the floor, the curtains drawn. I closed the door and flicked the lock, wandering over to the bed and leaving the lantern beside it. “Mum was partly to blame,” I said, “but I’llpack everything away tomorrow, so it feels more like your room, too.”
