She meant it, Falk could tell, and he felt a rush of pure warmth toward them both. That was the thing about Rita and Raco. Their friendship was as close to unconditional as Falk had ever found.
“How long have they let us have you for, in the end?” Rita said as she took Henry and settled him into his high chair with a banana in his hand.
“A week.” Falk had tried for two and got a flat no, which he’d pretty much expected given the current workload. “If that’s okay?”
“Of course.” Rita smiled and didn’t add anything—You really can’t stay longer?—and Falk loved her a little bit more. That was the other thing about the Racos. They never made him feel like what he was offering fell short.
“Thanks for driving all the way out,” Raco called as he disappearedback into the kitchen and reappeared a moment later with three beers. “For a second time.” His smile dipped a little as he passed one each to Falk and Rita.
“Of course. Couldn’t miss this.”
Falk had been surprised and touched on that evening a few months before their son’s birth, when Raco and Rita had come down to Melbourne to take him out for dinner. Falk had suggested a restaurant he knew they’d like, and after they’d ordered, the couple had asked Falk if he’d consider being their baby’s godfather. Also, if it was all right by him, they’d like to name their son Henry Aaron Raco.
“Really? You don’t want to ask someone in the family or—”
“No, mate. We want to ask you,” Raco had said, as matter-of-fact as he ever was. “So what do you reckon?”
“Well, yeah. Thank you.” Falk’s answer came automatically. “What do I have to do?”
“Not too much. Be a good influence.”
“We wanted someone we trusted.” Rita had smiled at him. “So who better?”
Later, when Raco had gone to the bathroom, Rita had scraped her dessert bowl empty, then pushed it aside.
“So, the thing is”—she’d leaned in a little—“his parents and grandparents were quite religious. He might be lapsed, but you can never totally get rid of it. Runs quite deep, you know? He’ll play down this godparent thing, but it actually means something to him.”
“I know. I’m honored. Genuinely. I didn’t expect this.”
Rita had looked at Falk across the empty plates, her face a little sad. “You really didn’t, did you? Even after everything.”
“Well, it’s just that you have so many people—”
“That’s true. But we wanted you.” She’d taken his hand, placing it on her stomach. “It’s not like the movies, I’m afraid. And fair warning, it’s more church than I find ideal, personally.”
“Noted. But still up for it.” Under his palm, Falk could sense the future Henry Aaron Raco stirring, and felt a protective surge. “Thanks, Rita. I’ll do my best for you all.”
“We know you will.”
Had he really done his best? Falk wondered now, as thirteen-month-old Henry regarded him with nothing warmer than suspicion. He’d had good intentions. He’d driven out to the Marralee Valley last year for the christening, fully ready to play his part, but then everything had been derailed. When he’d gotten back home to Melbourne, work had been manic, and sometimes he’d blink and find whole months had gone by and he hadn’t once spoken to the Racos.
Okay,he thought, smiling at Henry.Starting now.
Henry slid his dark little eyes away, as though embarrassed on Falk’s behalf.
“Ignore him.” Raco laughed and plonked a sun hat on his child’s head. “Grab a seat.”
Falk pulled up the chair next to Rita, while Eva lolled against the table beside him, fiddling with a glittery hair clip. Eva was big for five, with her mum’s curly hair but her dad’s eyes. She kept stealing glances at Falk, a little overwhelmed by his presence. Her parents had once mentioned that it had been Falk who’d given her the doll that had been her constant companion for the past few years. That, coupled with the fact that she only saw Falk in person on rare occasions, had given him something of a Santa Claus allure.
“Watch the table, sweetheart,” Rita said as Eva leaned in to slip Falk the glittered hair clip and nearly knocked over Rita’s water glass.
“Thanks very much, Eva.” Falk took the clip and moved the glass. Beneath it was the printed flyer Rita had been looking at. Kim Gillespie’s face smiled up from the paper.
The photo had been taken in sunlight, and the woman’s dark brown hair had a sheen to it. She had slightly rounded features that made her appear a little younger than her thirty-nine years, and she looked happy in the photo. Falk wondered when it had been taken.
“He’s been out there for a while,” Rita murmured suddenly, and Falk glanced up in time to see Raco nod.
The pair both had their eyes trained on the vines stretching out below. At first the space appeared empty but, following their gaze, Falkcould now see the shape of a man moving along the rows. He was alone and walking at a slow pace. He stopped at a fence post, something unseen catching his attention, then after a long moment continued on.
