A Special Kind of Family. Marion Lennox
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he had more of his mother in him than he thought. His mother had believed in love at first sight and she’d messed with both of their lives because of it. Her romantic ideals had turned into loser after loser. She saw life through rose-coloured glasses, and her dreams turned to nightmares every time.
‘I have work to do,’ he said abruptly.
‘I won’t interfere.’
‘I know you won’t,’ he said. And added silently as he left, for his ears only, Because I won’t let you.
* * *
She’d upset him. He’d walked out of the room like he couldn’t leave fast enough. Like she was contagious.
Ridiculous. She must be mistaken.
She ate another scone and had a second cup of coffee and talked to the boys. The tumble-drier whirred to a halt in the next room, and Dom appeared again, with an armful of clean, dry clothes.
‘Do you want to phone your family?’ he asked, brusque and businesslike. ‘You lost your cellphone, didn’t you. You can use my land line.’
She glanced at her watch. Nine. If she was driving from Melbourne this morning she’d hardly arrive before eleven. They wouldn’t be worrying. She could have a couple more hours…
Of what? Sitting in this man’s kitchen eating more hot cross scones while he stayed out of her way?
Stupid. She was avoiding the inevitable. She had to go.
And Marilyn? If she was careful she could get her onto the back seat of Charles’s or her father’s car, she decided. Sure, they shouldn’t disrupt her but it was a whole lot better than putting her down. Which was the alternative.
‘You could ring the local animal shelter,’ Dom said, watching her face and seeing her indecision. ‘They might be able to do something.’
‘On the first day of a four-day holiday? An injured stray with hours-oldpuppies?’ She shook her head. ‘I’llthink of something.’ She rose to her feet. Feeling shaky. Feeling unaccountably desolate.
‘I’ll fetch some crutches from the surgery.’
‘Thank you.’
‘We can be your crutches,’ Martin said stoically. But he was looking doubtful. ‘Are you taking the puppies away?’
‘They’re Erin’s puppies,’ Dom said.
‘Does she want them?’ Martin looked at Erin with eyes that said he’d been lied to in the past. His clear, green eyes were challenging.
‘Of course I want them,’ Erin said, forcing brightness. And then she glanced out into the hall and saw the heap of doggie contentment by the door. ‘Of course I want them,’ she reiterated, sounding more sure of herself. ‘It’s just a matter of convincing my family.’
Her family en masse—including Charles’s parents—were appalled. Erin tried to downplay the accident—a skid on a wet road to avoid a dog—but for her extended family, even a minor incident had the power to dredge up fearsome memories. It took a while to assure her mother she wasn’t hurt, honest, it had been a minor accident, and, no, she didn’t need their help, she only needed someone to fetch her.
Her mother put Charles on. So Charles hadn’t told them what had happened between them? Or maybe he had but he’d explained she was being silly. Hormonal, he’d said the last time she’d seen him, which had made her want to hit him.
By the time she spoke to Charles she was emotionally wrung out. She didn’t have energy left to explain she still had Marilyn.
‘I’ll be there as soon as I can,’ Charles said, and she knew she’d shaken him as well. She knew he’d come fast.
She didn’t want Charles. She wanted her dad to come, but of course they acted as a team.
They all cared for her. They cared for her so well she felt…stifled.
The doorbell pealed while she was getting dressed and her feeling of oppression deepened. But then she thought, surely Charles couldn’t be here already.
Maybe it was another patient. Maybe it was another need for Dom to face this Easter.
If he was called out… Maybe she could stay with the boys for a while, she thought. As a thank-you gesture. Charles wouldn’t mind waiting. He could have one of her hot cross scones.
She hauled her windcheater over her head and opened the living-room door with caution. Dom was at the front door, facing a stranger.
The man in the doorway was long, lanky and unkempt. He was maybe six feet four or so. He had limp, dirty hair that hung in dreadlocks to his shoulders. He was wearing tattered clothes and frayed sandals, and in his hands he was holding the biggest Easter egg Erin had ever seen. As big as two footballs, the thing was wider than he was.
‘I’m here to see Nathan,’ the man snapped, and then started coughing. Dom took the egg and waited until the coughing ceased.
‘Nathan,’ he called down the passage.
Marilyn was right behind him in the hall, between Erin and the front door, between Dom and Erin. As he glanced backward past the dog, Dom’s eyes met Erin’s. He gave her a blank stare—the sort of look doctors gave each other in the emergency department to say caution, act with care.
Nathan came running out of the kitchen. He saw who was at the front door—and stopped.
‘Here’s your dad,’ Dom said, gently, Erin noticed. ‘I think he’s brought you a present.
‘I can tell my kid that myself,’ the man said, aggressively.
‘Would you like to come in?’ Dom asked. He gestured to Marilyn. ‘Sorry about the mess. Our dog gave birth to puppies last night in just the wrong place.’
Our dog? Okay, maybe anything else would be too hard to explain, Erin conceded. For now Marilyn was communal property.
‘I’m not coming in,’ the man growled. ‘This place gives me the creeps.’
‘It’s a safe house, Dad,’ Nathan said in a small voice. ‘No one hits you here.’
There was moment’s deathly silence. The man seemed to freeze.
‘No one hits you anywhere,’ the man said finally, in a voice that said he didn’t believe it himself.
No one responded.
‘How’s the methadone programme going?’ Dom asked, and the man’s anger returned.
‘Bloody stuff doesn’t work. You know that.’
‘So you’re using again?’
‘Yeah, but I want the kid.’
‘You know the courts said you need to be clear for three months before they’ll consider it. Methadone and testing—you know the drill. We’ve been through it over and over. People are trying to help you.’
‘F…do-gooders.’
‘It’s all we can do, Michael,’ Dom said wearily. ‘Would you like some breakfast?’
‘Nah. I just want to give the kid the egg.’ He held it toward Nathan, not moving an inch inside the house. ‘Come on, Nathe,’ he said in a wheedling voice. ‘I bought it good and proper. With me pension money.’
‘It’s pretty big,’ Nathan said, but he didn’t look pleased. In fact, he looked close to tears.
‘So come and get it,’ Michael said.
Nathan edged forward along the hallway, inching his way past Marilyn. But it wasn’t the dog he was scared of, Erin thought. When he reached Michael his face was bleached white. Dom’s hand came down to rest on his shoulder.
‘Hey, it’s good that your dad’s