Page 47 of The Side Road (Love Chronicles #3)

BIG LOVE

Mia picked up her phone and scrolled through her social media. Jamie had posted an image of himself at the beach with palm trees in the background. Standing at the edge of the water, he wore linen shorts and a tropical open-necked shirt. Jamie never wore linen or bright colours.

Still, it was a particularly good photo. He looked happy. Mia zoomed in. Jamie had her blue eyes – or she had his – and sandy-coloured hair.

She swiped. There was a picture of her brother drinking a tropical cocktail by a pool. Another showed him in silhouette on a beach at sunset with a woman. They were holding hands. He was on holiday with a woman .

Mia paused. Who was she? Had they just met? Or were they on vacation together? She checked her emails, in case she had missed a correspondence – her broken arm had been a terrible distraction – but there was nothing from Jamie. Mia closed the social media post. Promptly, she called him.

Jamie answered immediately. ‘Are you okay?’ he asked .

‘Yes. I broke my arm, but I’m fine. Although it still hurts. Especially at night.’

‘Do you need money?’

‘No. Do you?’ Mia replied.

He laughed. ‘Why are you calling me? I spoke to you last month .’

‘I saw your social media. Wondered where you were.’

‘Oh, I’m in Bali. What’s wrong?’

‘Nothing’s wrong. I was just calling because…’

‘Mia, we text each other on our birthdays. Otherwise, it’s an email, unless, of course, we’re chatting about childhood trauma. What’s wrong?’

She took a deep breath. ‘I’m feeling a bit reflective. I’m thirty-six.’

‘And I’m forty-two. Did you break up with someone?’

‘Yes.’ She paused. ‘How did you know?’

‘Wild guess. Hang on a minute.’ In a muffled voice, he told someone he wouldn’t be long. ‘Are you still there?’

‘Yes. I think I might be scared of…of the big love. I saw what it did to Mum and Dad.’

Jamie sighed. ‘Mia, what they did, how they lived, the big love thing – if you want to call it that – it’s just an excuse for neglect.

Something they hide behind. They don’t love each other any more than other couples.

It’s bullshit. A selfish excuse because they opted out of parenting.

Big love is the best kind of love. It doesn’t mean you lose yourself and can’t function in the real world. ’

‘Okay, thank you.’ She sniffed and wiped her nose. ‘Did you bid on the Tom Roberts? I forgot to ask?’

‘I did, but it was passed in– they wanted a million. There must be a massive hole in the roof.’

Mia smiled. ‘Who’s the attractive woman in the photo with you? ’

‘That’s Bridget.’

‘Interesting. I love you.’

He didn’t hesitate. ‘I love you too. I hope your arm is okay. Let me know if you need anything.’

They ended the call.

Walking down the hallway, Mia opened the front door and stepped onto the veranda. She looked across the river and stared at the parsonage. An action she repeated five or six times a day, whenever she thought of Oliver.

Mia lacked the self-assurance and romantic confidence that Oliver possessed; she knew this.

She wondered if choosing him as a partner reflected her own flaws.

Was her love for Oliver an opposites attract scenario, where he showed her what she needed?

And if this were true, did it mean that her redemption also lay with him?

Was the burden of her future self-growth his responsibility?

This seemed unfair; he was not responsible for her story.

It was her life. Her life to fix. But what if she couldn’t do it by herself?

What if she was meant to work it out with someone?

The Citroen was parked in Oliver’s driveway. Chances were high that he was home.

She looked at the BMW parked on the street. There was no way she could ride it with a broken arm. Besides, the weather looked frightful; it was about to rain. The sensible thing to do would be to call a taxi, but imbued with a sense of stoicism, she decided a walk would do her good.

It was a treacherous journey that took her twice as long as it should, but half an hour later, wearing knee-high gumboots and her long raincoat, she knocked on Oliver’s front door.

‘What the…’ he said, opening the door and plucking a twig from her hair. ‘Come inside and get warm.’

In the kitchen, he leaned against the wall with his arms crossed. His face was set in a passive smile. This was one of her favourite positions, but one of her least favourite expressions.

She wrung her hands. ‘I want to get married and have a family,’ she said. ‘Sometimes I pretend I don’t.’

‘Why is that?’

‘Because a small part of me is terrified it will never happen. And, if it doesn’t, that’s okay. I’m fine with it, but if I had one wish that was just for myself, that’s what it would be.’ She paused. ‘That was a difficult thing to say.’

A faint smile reached his lips. He didn’t take his eyes off her, and it was a penetrating gaze.

‘I know it’s biology,’ she continued. ‘Raging baby hormones and all that – and it’s such a cliché thing for a woman my age to want, but I can’t help it.

It’s the way I feel.’ She took a deep breath.

‘I want to tell you something about my childhood. When I was young, my parents were often unavailable.’

‘Emotionally?’

‘Yes. And physically. They, well, they left us at home for long periods. Sometimes we had a nanny, but not always. One time, they went to France for three weeks. Another time, it was a month, but it was a regular thing.’

He uncrossed his arms, resting his hands on his hips. His face registered concern. ‘Shit.’

‘I know, but the interesting thing is that from a young age, I learned to cook. I also learned to overlook destructive behaviours. Love makes us accept flaws we wouldn’t otherwise tolerate – I know this – but it’s especially true for me.

It’s been my default for a while. My childhood experiences skewed my understanding of relationships. I’ve been working on this.’

When he remained silent, she continued .

‘Anyway, there’s more, but I wanted to tell you that, because sometimes I’m not sure I know how to be in a relationship or what’s expected of me. Oliver, I really stuffed this up.’

‘How did you stuff this up?’

‘About six months ago, I went to this wake and met this very handsome mechanic. I fell in love and forgot to tell him. You don’t have to say anything. And I don’t expect you to feel the same. I just wanted you to know.’

When he stepped toward her, she held up her hand. ‘I can’t deal with us right now because of Leo. I’m going to the store to help process the online orders – or at least I’ll do what I can.’

‘Let me drive you.’

‘No, I want to walk.’

He followed her to the front door. ‘I’m so sorry about Leo.’

On the veranda, she turned and looked at him. ‘Will you marry me?’ she asked.

‘What?’ He laughed.

‘I’m serious. I want to marry you. Then I want to have a baby. We can live in my house, with Tash, our new baby, and a Labrador.’

‘That’s what you want?’

‘Yes. It’s going to be great. We can have a simple backyard wedding under a tree.

I’ll make my wedding dress. After we’re married, you’ll work at the garage with weekends off, and wear overalls with a rag in your back pocket.

I’ll complain about the oil stains on your work clothes, but I’ll still wash them. How does that sound?’

With a stifled laugh, he asked, ‘Are you going to make my lunch before you send me off to work? ’

‘Yes. But it will just be sandwiches. I’ll wrap them in paper and fold the edges down neatly. Please say you’ll marry me?’

‘Can I think about it?’

‘I don’t understand why you’re hesitating. It’s not an unreasonable request. I have a great house, a good career, and an amazing dog. My plaster will be off in a month, and I’ll be good as new.’

Oliver, still laughing, said, ‘You’re a good catch? Is that what you’re saying?’

‘If you’re not interested, that’s fine. But if you know anyone who might want to apply for the position of husband, could you send them my way? I’d also like to point out that you’re unemployed, you can’t cook, and you still haven’t found the missing money.’

‘Mia, you should get everything you want, eventually.’

‘Maybe two babies.’

‘You had me at one. Mia, I love you. You are the most beautiful, kind-hearted, funny, smart woman I have ever met. I’m overwhelmed by everything you do. I’ve even taken up knitting. I know the difference between two-ply and four-ply. I can do this because I love you.’

‘Right, well this is good…’

He raised his chin. ‘I haven’t finished. I’ve developed a Pavlov’s dog response to the sound of clicking needles. It makes me happy because it means you’re close to me. You send my heart racing, but you also make it stop.’

‘Goodness, you go all the way.’

‘Still not finished – and this has just come to me – you don’t think you’re brave, but you are. Not fearless, but still brave, although your tolerance to physical pain is minute.’

‘I’d like a hug, please.’

Oliver wrapped Mia in his arms. She buried her head in his chest.