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He’d barely put down the receiver when the phone rang almost immediately. He supposed it was his mother ringing back with one last ‘thought’.
He answered quickly. ‘Hello?’
‘Is that Joe?’ It was a completely different woman’s voice.
‘Yes, Joe speaking.’
‘Oh.’ The caller managed to sound disappointed and put out, as if she was wrinkling her nose at a very unpleasant smell. ‘I was hoping to speak to Ellie.’
‘Is that you, Angela?’ Joe recognised the icy tones of his ex mother-in-law.
‘Yes, of course.’
‘Ellie’s out in the shed, hunting for Christmas decorations. I’ll get her to call you as soon as she gets in.’
‘So where’s Jacko?’ Angela Fowler’s voice indicated all too clearly that she didn’t trust Joe to be alone with her grandson.
‘He’s taking a nap.’
‘I see,’ Angela said doubtfully and then she let out a heavy sigh. ‘I rang, actually, because I heard about all the rain up there in Queensland on the news. There was talk of rivers flooding.’
‘Yes, that’s right, I’m afraid. Our local creeks and rivers are up and Karinya’s already cut off.’
‘Oh, Joe! And you’re still there? Oh, how dreadful for poor Ellie.’ Ellie’s mother had always managed to imply that any unfortunate event in their marriage was entirely Joe’s fault. ‘Don’t tell me this means... It doesn’t mean you’ll be up there with Ellie and Jacko for Christmas, does it?’
‘I’m afraid we don’t have a choice, Angela.’
There was a horrified gasp on the end of the line and then a longish bristling pause.
‘I’ll tell Ellie you called,’ Joe said with excessive politeness.
‘I suppose, if she’s busy, that will have to do.’ Reluctantly, Angela added, ‘Thanks, I guess.’ And then... ‘Joe?’
‘Yes?’
‘I hope you’ll be sensitive.’
Joe scowled and refused to respond.
‘You’ve made life hard enough for my daughter.’
His grip on the phone receiver tightened and he was tempted to hurl the bloody phone through the kitchen window. Somehow he reined in his temper.
‘You can rest easy, Ange. Ellie has served me with the divorce papers and I’ve signed on the dotted line. I’ll be out of your daughter’s hair just as soon as these rivers go down. In the meantime, I’ll be on my best behaviour. And I hope you and Harold have a very happy Christmas.’
He was about to hang up when he heard Ellie’s footsteps in the hall.
‘Hang on. You’re in luck. Here’s Ellie now.’
Setting down the phone with immense relief, he went down the hallway. Ellie was on the veranda. She’d taken off her rain jacket and was hanging it on the wall hook, and beside her were two large rain-streaked cardboard cartons.
‘Your mother’s on the phone,’ Joe told her.
A frown drew her finely arched eyebrows together. ‘OK, thanks.’ She was still frowning as she set off down the hall. ‘I think Jacko’s awake,’ she called back to Joe. ‘Can you check?’
‘Can do.’
Even before Joe reached the boy’s room, he heard soft, happy little chuckles. The lively baby talk was such a bright, cheerful contrast to his recent phone conversation.
In fact, Joe couldn’t remember ever hearing a baby’s laughter before. It was truly an incredible sound.
He slowed his pace as he approached the room and opened the door slowly, carefully, and he found Jacko, with tousled golden hair and sleep-flushed cheeks, standing in his cot. The little boy was walking his teddy bear, complete with its fluoro Band-Aid, along the railing. He was talking to the bear in indecipherable gibberish. Giggling.
So cute.
So damn cute.
Joe felt a slam, like a fist to his innards. The last time he’d seen his son, he’d been a helpless baby, and now he was a proper little person—walking and talking and learning to play, beginning to imagine.
He’d missed so many milestones.
What will he be like next time I see him?
It was difficult enough that Joe had to spend this extra time with Ellie, while trying to ignore the old tug of an attraction that had never really died. But now, here was his son jerking his heart-strings as well.
As soon as Jacko saw Joe, he dropped the teddy bear and held up round little arms. ‘Up!’ he demanded.
Joe crossed to the cot and his son looked up at him with a huge, happy grin. It might even have been an admiring grin. A loving grin?
Whatever it was, it hefted a raw punch.
‘Up, Joe!’
‘OK, mate. Up you come.’
Jacko squealed with delight as Joe swung him high, over the side of the cot. Then, for a heady moment, Joe held the boy in his arms, marvelling at his softness, at his pink and gold perfection.
Hell. He could remember when this healthy, bouncing kid had been nothing more than a cluster of frozen invisible cells in a laboratory—one of the sproglets that had caused him and Ellie so much hope and heartbreak.
Now the collection of cells was Jacko, their miraculous solo survivor.
And, after everything they’d been through, Joe found himself in awe.
‘Wee-wee!’ announced Jacko, wriggling with a need to be out of Joe’s arms.
He quickly set the kid down. ‘Do you want the toilet?’
Jacko nodded and clutched at the front of his shorts, pulling a face that made the matter look urgent.
‘Let’s go.’ With a hand on his shoulder, Joe guided him quickly down the hallway to the bathroom, realising as he did so that, despite having several young nieces and nephews, this was a brand new experience.
‘I think you have to stand on this fellow,’ he said, grabbing a plastic turtle with a flat, step-like back and positioning it in front of the toilet bowl.
Jacko was red-faced as he climbed onto the step and tugged helplessly at the elastic waistband on his shorts. It was a moment before Joe realised he was needed to help the boy free of his clothing, which included pulling down a miniature pair of underpants printed with cartoon animals.
‘OK. There you go. You’re all set now.’
And then, out of nowhere, a fleeting memory from his own childhood flashed. Tearing a corner of paper from the roll on the wall, Joe dropped it into the bowl.
‘See if you can pee on the paper,’ he said.
Jacko looked up at him with open-mouthed surprise, but then he turned back and, with commendable concentration, did exactly as Joe suggested.
The kid was smart.
And right on target.
‘Bingo!’ Joe grinned. ‘You did it. Good for you, Jacko!’
Jacko beamed up at him. ‘Bingo, Joe!’
‘You’ve earned a high five!’ Joe held out his hand.
‘What are you two up to?’
They both turned to find Ellie in the hallway behind them, hands on hips. Beautiful but frowning.
‘I did Bingo, Mummy,’ Jacko announced with obvious pride as he stood on the turtle with his shorts around his ankles.
‘Bingo? What are you talking about?’ She directed her frown at Joe.
He pointed into the bowl. ‘Jacko hit the piece of paper. I thought it would help him to aim.’
‘Aim?’ Ellie stared at him, stared at both of them, her dark eyes frowning with disbelief. As comprehension dawned, her mouth twisted into the faintest glimmer of a smile—a smile that didn’t quite make it.
‘He’s not in the Army yet,’ she said tightly. ‘And don’t forget to wash your hands, Jacko. It’s time for your afternoon tea.’
* * *
‘So, do you have a job for me?’ Joe asked once Jacko was perched on a stool at the kitchen bench and tucking into a cup of juice and a plate of diced cheese and fruit.
Ellie looked pained—an expression Joe was used to seeing after a phone call from her mother. No doubt Angela Fowler had once again piled on the sympathy for her poor daughter’s terrible fate—this time, being forced to spend Christmas with her dropkick ex.
In the past, that pained look had irritated Joe. Today, he was determined to let it wash over him.
‘Perhaps I could assemble the Christmas tree?’ he suggested.
‘That would be helpful.’ Ellie didn’t follow through with a smile. ‘The tree’s in one of the boxes on the veranda.’
‘You’d like it in the lounge room?’
‘Yes, please.’
* * *
Ellie took a deep breath as she watched Joe head off to the veranda.
Conversations with her mother had always been heavily laced with anti-Joe sentiments and today had been a doozy.
This is a dangerous time for you, Ellie. I don’t like the idea of the two of you alone up there. You’ll have to be very careful, especially if Joe tries anything.
Tries what, Mum?
Tries to...to win you back.
Of course, Ellie had assured her mother there was no chance of that. Absolutely. No. Chance. But she wished this certainty hadn’t left her feeling quite so desolate.
These next few days were going to be hard enough with the two of them stuck in the house while the rain continued pelting down outside. It would be so much easier if she could carry on with the outside work, but the cattle were safe and until the rain stopped there wasn’t a lot more she could do.
Unfortunately, she couldn’t even give Joe a decent book to read. Since Jacko’s birth, she’d only had time for cattle-breeding journals, women’s magazines and children’s picture books.
Ellie decided to let Joe get on with the tree while she cooled her heels in the kitchen with Jacko, for once letting him dawdle over his food, but as soon as he’d finally downed his afternoon tea, he was keen to be off.
‘Where’s Joe?’ was the first thing he asked.
So they went back to the lounge room and, to Ellie’s surprise, Joe had almost finished assembling the six-foot tree. He made it look dead easy, of course.
Jacko stared up at the tree, looking puzzled, as if he couldn’t understand why adults would set up a tree inside the house. As an outback boy, he hadn’t seen any of the city shops with brightly lit trees and Santa Clauses, although he had vague ideas about Christmas from books and TV.
‘This is our Christmas tree,’ Ellie explained to him. ‘Mummy’s going to make it pretty with lights and decorations, and soon there’ll be lots of presents underneath it.’
At the mention of presents Jacko clapped his hands and took off, running in circles.
‘Well, that got a reaction,’ said Joe, amused.
‘He can still remember the pile of presents he scored for his second birthday.’
Too late, Ellie remembered that Joe hadn’t sent the boy anything. Lordy, today there seemed to be pitfalls in even the simplest conversation.
Joe was grim-faced as he fitted the final top branches in place.
Ellie went to the CD player and made a selection—a jaunty version of Jingle Bells. She hoped it would lift the dark mood that had lingered since her mum’s annoying dire warnings on the phone.
Determined to shake off the grouchiness, she went to the second carton and took out boxes of exquisite tree ornaments. Decorating the tree had always been her favourite Christmas tradition. Today it was sure to lift her spirits.
‘Ooh! Pretty!’ Jacko squealed, coming close to inspect.
‘Yes, these ornaments are very pretty, but they’re made of glass, Jacko, so you mustn’t touch. They can break. I’m going to put them on the tree, and they’ll be safe there. They’ll make the tree beautiful.’
