Part Three

Over the last couple of months, Di had gone on a number of outings with Thornton and his family, covering a variety of places and pastimes. Somewhere along the way, things had become more informal between them and she now most often called him Thorn. As she gathered her things after another enjoyable occasion, this one a trip to the town of Hyde Park, former home of Franklin D. Roosevelt, Di was startled by what seemed to be an off-hand remark.

“This was a lovely day. I’d really like to do this sort of thing on a more regular basis.” He stooped to check for anything Di had left behind, before closing the rear door of his vehicle. “We should get together more often.”

“More often?” she repeated.

Thorn nodded. “Maybe not for such a long trip as today’s, but just to get out somewhere. Once a week, say.”

“I’m not sure what you mean. I’m not looking for a relationship,” Di told him, with rising alarm. “After the trouble I had with Imogen’s father, I don’t really want to risk that again – not that I’m comparing you to him, of course. You’re a whole lot more reliable, but still…”

He laid a calming hand on her arm. “That’s okay. I’m not looking for a relationship, either. I haven’t had another one since Margaret died. I just thought that since my kids like Imogen so much, you might like for us to get together for some more outings. It doesn’t need to be anything more than that.”

She let out a slow breath, releasing the tension, before smiling. “That sounds nice.”

“It does, doesn’t it?” He smiled at her. “I should do more fun things with my kids. All too soon, they’ll all be teenagers and won’t want to spend time with their dad.”

“Okay,” Di agreed. “I’d like some more outings together. I enjoyed this one, too.”

“Good. How does next weekend sound?”

In a few minutes, they had settled another time and place and each gone on to their own home. Di wondered, idly, for a few moments just what she was getting into, but decided to take Thorn’s word for it that it was just as simple as that.

“So, how is the exciting life of Diana Lynch?” Honey asked, as she and Di settled down for a cup of coffee in Di’s living area.

“Exciting?” Di asked. “Hardly! It’s so dull, sometimes, I would bore myself to tears if I had to tell about it. You’re the one with an exciting life.”

Honey’s eyes shone with sudden inspiration. “My life is kind of plain and uninteresting on its own, but the Bob-Whites together could almost make a soap opera,” she decided. “Just think of the love triangles, the mad dashes across the globe, the broody heroes with dark and dangerous pasts.”

“This doesn’t really sound like reality,” Di grumbled. “My life right now doesn’t contain any of that.”

“Then, of course, there’s your steamy romance with the dashing, but tragedy-stricken, Thorn.” Honey was clearly enjoying herself and seemed ready to go on for some time.

“Honestly, Honey, it’s not like that.” Di sighed, unsure how to convince her friend. “He’s not ready for that and I’m not ready for that and it’s just not like that, okay? Maybe it will be, one day, but for now, it’s just really not.”

Honey looked at her for a long moment, then nodded. “Okay, if you say so. I do think the two of you would make a really nice couple, though.”

Di rolled her eyes. “You thought that about me and Mart, too.”

Her friend smiled and shrugged. “You did make a nice couple with Mart, it just wasn’t right for either of you. And it’s true that you kind of lost your way after that,” (Di gave an inelegant snort at the understatement) “but maybe things are ready to start coming back together.”

“I really hope so,” Di answered, with a sigh. “I’m so tired of feeling like I don’t belong anywhere.”

“You belong with the Bob-Whites; you always will.”

Di nodded. “Yes, but it’s hard being the only one with a baby, the only one who’s single, the only one who’s made a complete mess of their life.”

Honey shook her head at once. “Your life is not a complete mess. And you’re not the only one to have messed things up. Look at Brian. Look at Mart. Look at me. I’ve made far worse messes than you have.”

“You didn’t have a baby with someone you don’t love,” Di pointed out, mutinously.

“You didn’t marry a man who was already married,” Honey countered. “But it’s not a competition for who’s made the biggest mess.”

Di shrugged. “So, maybe I didn’t make the biggest mess, just one of the biggest messes. I still am the only single one and the only one with a baby and I still don’t feel like I belong any more.”

“And that’s why Thornton is so attractive,” Honey mused. “Okay, I can see that.”

“It’s not just that.” Di shook her head, trying to find the right words to express what she felt. “We’re both hurt and lost and lonely and it’s nice to not have to explain that. And neither of us know where we’re going with this, we’re just taking it as it comes and waiting to see. And maybe we’ll only ever be friends, but it’s just so nice to have a friend who understands how alone I feel and who never needs that explained.”

“I’m really sorry you’ve felt that way,” Honey cried, giving her friend a hug. “And, if it makes you feel any better, I’m going to stop trying to get you to explain something that you don’t understand yourself. Just do whatever you feel is right and I’ll back you up, okay?”

“Thanks, Honey.” Di gave her friend an extra squeeze. “That means a lot to me.”

“You’re regretting it, aren’t you?” Daphne asked, without looking up from her book. She was seated at the battered old dining table with her work spread around her.

Mart, who had been staring mindlessly at the television, gave a start. He picked up the remote control and switched it off.

“You don’t have to pretend that everything’s fine, you know,” she continued, dropping her pencil onto the table and looking up at him.

“Most things are fine,” he answered. “There’s just a few things that I’m not happy with. And I don’t regret anything.”

Daphne smiled. “I like how you added that at the end, like an afterthought.”

He shook his head and went to stand by the window, looking down at the traffic passing by. He knew there was no use in arguing with her if she was going to take that line. Whatever he tried to say would be twisted around.

“So, what I think I need to know is whether you’re going to go back.”

Surprised, Mart turned to face her. “Of course not. This is where I choose to live, now.”

“But you don’t want to.” She raised an eyebrow in challenge. “You don’t, do you?”

He considered for a moment, then shook his head. “You’re right, I guess. I’m just not a city kind of guy. That’s the one thing that held me back from making the decision earlier. But I’m here now and in a year and a half you’ll graduate and…”

She crossed the room to him and threw her arms around his neck, smiling. “And then?”

Mart felt his heart beating faster. “Then, we can live somewhere that suits both of us. Somewhere we can keep horses and you can’t hear the traffic.”

Her smile broadened, then she kissed him. “Good answer. I like that you’re thinking ahead.”

“Do you? I was kind of thinking it was rather presumptuous of me,” he replied. “We haven’t talked about the future that much.”

She shook her head. “It wasn’t so long ago that we had no idea how we’d even have a future together. I don’t want you to go, but I don’t want you to be unhappy, either.”

He laughed. “You think this is unhappy? You should have seen how unhappy I was in Iowa, with no plans and no prospect of seeing you.”

“I was pretty unhappy, too, those first few weeks back. It made a big difference when you told me you were coming here.”

He pulled her closer and brushed a hand through her hair. “I’m glad I’m here.”

“I’m glad you’re here, too,” she answered, her voice muffled against his chest. “When I’m with you, I feel right.”

Mart smiled and agreed. In spite of the few issues that still troubled him, he felt the same way.

Over the next several weeks, Di and Thornton got together several times, in a variety of settings. One Saturday afternoon they found themselves relaxing together on a picnic blanket under a tree while Imogen slept and the older three explored. Conversation came easily for a time, while excited squeals and splashes came from the little stream nearby. After a time, they fell silent and Thorn became a bit more subdued. When he spoke, it was not on a topic that Diana expected.

“I don’t think I’ve been quite as honest with you – or with myself – as I should have been,” he admitted. “I’ve kept saying they’re just family outings, but I think I’ve been lying to myself.”

She gazed at him for a few moments, then nodded. “My friends have been very sceptical about the whole ‘family outing’ thing, too. They think there’s already something going on between us. And if I protest, they ask why there isn’t.”

He dropped his gaze. “I don’t know what it is that I feel for you, Di. I never thought I’d be in this position. I never thought I’d start again with someone else after Margaret died. I don’t know what I want, or what I should do. I can’t even tell you if it’s just if I’m tired of being alone.”

She patted his hand. “There’s no hurry. Let’s just take things as they come. Maybe, in a few months, it will be clearer.” She sighed. “And I totally understand about being tired of being alone. All of my friends are in relationships and none of them have kids.”

He nodded. “They don’t understand. They can’t.” With a sigh, he continued, “And none of my friends can understand my situation, either. Those who are on their own got that way via the divorce courts.”

“It’s not the same as the feeling of suddenly being abandoned,” Di answered, her eyes unfocussed. “No matter what you do, you can’t go back to how things were before.”

“You can’t,” he agreed. “If it’s all right with you, can this continue as it is?”

She smiled at him. “Of course.”

Mart always felt most at home in natural settings, so when he needed somewhere to think those were the first places he sought. In his explorations, he had found several places that were reasonably good for that purpose, but nowhere, yet, that was all that much like home. One Saturday, while Daphne was working at her part-time job, he found himself at a loose end and feeling more than a little melancholy. When he had first arrived, she had made him a list of places to try in his search for the perfect thinking-spot. He found the list, chose a target and then looked up how to get there.

His destination that morning was the Brisbane Botanical Gardens in the unlikely-looking suburb of Mount Coot-tha. Daphne had explained to him that the first T in “Coot-tha” was not pronounced, and that it was run together as if the hyphen was not there, but it looked and sounded strange to him nonetheless. Getting into the car, he took the drive through the inner city area, onto a major connecting road and only just noticed in time when his exit arrived. His destination was on the left, but a quick tour of the carpark showed it to be full. Feeling a bit dubious, he found a place to park in the overflow across the road and set out on foot to see if he could possibly find solitude in a place apparently so busy.

He stopped at the gate to pick up a map, frowning slightly as he tried to figure out where he was. The gardens were of a good size and they did not seem to be completely overrun by people. To his left, with the land gently sloping down, was the fragrant garden. He traced a finger through it on the map, across a road to a path that led through a rainforest area to the conifer garden. Thinking that sounded promising, he set off in that direction at a gentle amble, taking the time to run his hands across the scented plants he found.

The first path he took seemed to be heading straight for what appeared to be the tropical dome, but veered off to the left before he reached it. He turned to the right where the path branched, seeing the path he wanted and crossing the road to reach it. There was no traffic, other than a tractor that had just passed, as the big vehicular gates had been closed when he entered.

The path plunged down an embankment into deep shade. Mart slowed his steps, watching the artificial stream that ran through the gully and seeing the palm seedlings that clustered in every open space. From there, it seemed, the only direction was up. The path began to climb, becoming steep in sections. Seats were scattered here and there, as were conveniently-shaped boulders, suitable for sitting on, but none of them took Mart’s fancy. As he climbed the hill, he saw fewer and fewer other people until he had the illusion of being alone.

Every so often he came to an intersection in the path and had soon lost track of which path he was following. He kept his steps headed upward, until the rainforest section ended and a break in the thick trees allowed him to see what was beyond them.

Perhaps all of the paths ended in the same area, or perhaps he had been lucky, because he was now standing at the edge of the section of conifers he had noted on the map. He kept following the path as it meandered through them, sometimes intersecting with other paths, and he was reminded of home. In a few minutes, he reached the edge of that garden and stood on the brink of an area with much newer plantings. He saw nothing that took his interest further up the hill and turned to retrace his steps.

In a few minutes, he had found a place to sit, at the headwaters of the artificial stream he had followed earlier. The conifers around him blocked out the view of all but his immediate surroundings. The large rock on which he sat was warmed by the sun and the water made a pleasant noise as it flowed past.

As he sat, he considered whether the choices he had made were taking him in the right direction. Certainly, he felt more content than he had in a long time. It was also true that his relationship with Daphne became more firm with each passing day. But was this the place he belonged?

He reached out to touch the spiky leaves of the ground-cover that spilled over the edge of the stream. It was a foreign import, he knew, like him. It seemed to be flourishing here and perhaps he was, as well. When it came down to it, though, a part of him did not belong in this city and never would. Then he thought of the area where Daphne’s parents lived, outside of the city and away from the noise. Perhaps there he could belong. This was a transient experience; a part of his life that would soon be over. When it was gone, he could remember it fondly, but he did not think that he would ever want to revisit it for more than a few days at a time.

His mind clearer than when he had set out, Mart got up to see what else the gardens had to offer.

Imogen’s little eyes were drooping as she sat on Rachel’s lap, but the baby would not give in to sleep. Sitting in one of the comfortable chairs in Thornton’s living room after having dinner with his family, Di watched her daughter, wondering whether it was time to call it a night and take the little girl home.

“I don’t want you to go just yet,” Thornton told her, as if reading her mind. He dropped his voice to a whisper. “I think I need to talk to you alone. If we can get her to go to sleep, and if I can convince my kids to go up to bed, could we?”

She nodded. Glancing across, she saw Imogen give up the battle and close her big blue eyes. Thorn smiled and murmured something about finding her somewhere to sleep. When he returned a few minutes later, Di took her little girl from Rachel’s arms and carried her up the stairs. She set the baby down where Thorn indicated, on a queen-sized bed with the heavy cushions from a sofa along the outside edges. The baby stirred, but soon settled again.

They both went downstairs again, where the children railed against their father’s suggestion that it must be time for them to go to bed. After a time, Thorn suggested that Di wait for him on the back porch while he got them organised. She took the hint and took a seat on the swing, staring out into the dark night. After a time, he joined her there.

“They’re all in bed – finally,” he told her, sinking onto the porch swing next to her. “I was beginning to think they’d stay up all night, just to see what was going to happen.”

Diana smiled. “And what is going to happen?”

Thorn took her hand and pulled her with him as he stood. He took a few steps forward to lean on the railing.

“First, I think, we’re going to look up at the stars.”

“Stars are good,” she answered, smiling. She looked up to see them. “Okay, what next?”

He was still holding her hand. He gave it a tug to draw her closer. “Now, we talk for a while.”

“About?”

“Stars,” he answered, looking up. “Maybe, if we’re lucky, we’ll see a shooting star.”

“I don’t know.” She turned to look at him, instead of the sky. “Even if they’re up there, I’m feeling a bit distracted. I’ll probably miss them.”

He turned to her and nodded. “Perhaps you’re right. In fact, I think I know what should happen next.”

Their lips met in a first kiss and everything seemed right.

The End