Page 58 of Anxious Hearts

Twelve Months Later

He stood nervously in front of the camera. It wasn’t his first time, but it was the first time since the disaster. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath and waited for the call to action.

Finn smiled at the young man. Although Jett wasn’t the most confident actor in the group, he was far and away the best. Finn had recognised his talent on the first day of the semester and had nurtured and grown Jett’s ability in the almost fifteen weeks of classes that had followed.

Now, as they headed into semester break, Jett had a chance to redeem himself after his last catastrophic effort, when he’d forgotten his lines, called a character by the wrong name and actually broken down on camera.

Finn had told Jett the story of Martin Sheen’s own semi-breakdown during the filming of Apocalypse Now and the information had pepped the kid up enough to come back to class.

‘Action,’ Finn said.

Jett opened his eyes. They were no longer his own – they belonged to his character.

Finn’s throat constricted with pride. ‘That’s my boy,’ he whispered.

***

Finn drove through the main streets of Ballarat on his way out of town.

Although it was the second largest regional centre in the state, the streets were still comparatively sedate and empty.

There was a big difference between five million people and a hundred thousand.

It was peak hour and Finn was three cars deep at the traffic lights.

He looked up at the Gold Rush–era buildings and wondered, as he did every night on the way home, about the lives of the people who had built this place a hundred and sixty years ago.

Not just a lifetime ago – it felt like a galaxy away.

The light changed. Finn turned up the heating.

Winter was only a few weeks old and already the nights were punishing.

But when he made it to the small town of Buninyong, fifteen minutes away, Finn breathed in the harsh, crisp air like it was health itself.

It burned in his chest, an ongoing purge of the foul and tainted breath that clung to the insides of his lungs.

The memories of his past slowly being expunged, but not yet completely expelled.

Perhaps they never would be. Perhaps they never should be.

Finn recognised the dark thoughts starting to settle on his mind. He had to focus on the now. Narrow his thoughts and channel his energy.

He parked his car at the end of the driveway and walked to the small woodshed beside the Federation cottage that was now his home.

The gravel crunched under his feet. He listened intently to every sound.

The rustle of the wind in the trees. The scurrying of possums in the branches. The distant rumble of a truck engine.

He placed a log onto the chopping block, took the splitter in both hands and swung it in one fluid motion behind his body and over his shoulder.

The smooth handle felt cool on his skin as his right hand slid down and met with his left at the moment of impact.

The wood cracked and split directly down the middle and the slightly blunted head of the splitter jammed in the chopping block.

Finn placed one foot on the block to hold it steady and yanked the splitter’s handle back and forth until the head came loose. He grabbed the next log, lined it up and performed another perfect stroke. It was so deeply satisfying that he continued long after he had enough wood for the fire.

As the first bead of sweat ran from his temple down his cheek, Finn was lit up from behind by headlights that grew in intensity with the approaching sounds of an engine and tyres on gravel.

She was home.

***

Kelly smiled as she parked the car. Who would have thought that all it would take to treat Finn’s anxiety was a tonne of firewood and a splitter? Men, such simple creatures. She stepped out into the cold air and immediately shivered.

Finn turned to face her, leaning on the splitter.

‘Don’t stop on my account,’ she called.

‘What are you smiling about?’ he said.

‘I was just thinking how lucky I am to be married to a drama teacher and a brutish lumberjack all in one.’

Finn picked up a gigantic log with exaggerated movements, grunting and grimacing for effect. He placed it on the chopping block, wound up and brought the splitter down so fast, it was a blur of movement. It jammed in the log, which seemed to have utter disdain for both the splitter and Finn.

‘Well, that was disappointing,’ Finn said.

Kelly laughed and walked towards the woodshed. She took Finn’s hands in her own and looked up into his eyes. ‘You’ll always be a Renaissance man to me, Finley.’

‘And you’ll always be a complete smartarse to me,’ Finn said.

He kissed her. His lips were warm and his cheeks damp from exertion.

She wrapped her arms around him and pressed her body hard against his own.

He wrapped his jacket around her and rested his chin on the top of her head.

They stood there a moment, holding each other under the light of the woodshed, breathing in the scent of freshly split timber.

Kelly groaned with pleasure. ‘I love it here,’ she said.

***

Later, as they sat in front of the fire, Kelly snuggled into Finn’s body. He placed a hand on her belly. ‘Making progress,’ he said.

She ran her hand along her stomach. Just the smallest bump had begun to form. ‘Getting there,’ she said.

‘How long before you feel the kicking?’

‘Well, based on the way you chop wood, I’m thinking this one will be highly active early.’

Finn chuckled. ‘Are you home tomorrow night?’

‘I’m seeing Heather after work.’

‘Hasn’t she fixed you yet?’

‘I was never broken.’

‘That’s a matter of opinion.’

‘I’m still doing better than you, Mr Fortnightly Appointments.’

‘It’s not a competition.’

‘Everything’s a competition.’

‘That kind of talk is going to get you back to weekly appointments.’

Kelly watched the flames dance and flicker. It was mesmerising, meditative, hypnotic. She lay perfectly still against Finn’s body, only her head moving with the rise and fall of his chest. ‘I’m so glad we moved here,’ she whispered.

‘Even though you’re “working at a second-rate training hospital that will destroy any prospects of you having a successful career”?’ Finn regularly parroted her words whenever she said something positive about their new life.

‘Even though I married you.’

Finn laughed and the sharp motion jolted Kelly’s head on his chest. ‘Easy, mate,’ she said.

She snuggled back into him and intertwined her arm with his so they held hands with the undersides of their wrists touching. Ceallach and Fionn . If their tattoos could smudge, the ink would have run together. Combined into one word.

Kelly and Finn.

Warriors.