‘You should let her cry for a bit.’ Dad unwittingly underlined her thoughts. Sitting back on his haunches, he winked to take the edge off his comment. ‘Never hurt you to wait for your mother to come and get you at that age.’
Charlie laughed, and deliberately refrained from standing up, even though she itched to do so. ‘Maybe that’s why I used to hate lying around in bed once I woke up.’
‘Nah, that was because you were too active for your own good.’
‘I got that from you. Aimee’s the same. Guess it’s in the Lang genes.’ A yawn rolled up her throat and over her lips. It had been a long time since she’d been anything like too active. So long she’d forgotten how it felt to have abundant energy, not to need to go to bed till well after midnight.
When she’d finally gone back to work at the Taupo Family Medical Centre after her illness she’d truly believed she was ready for anything and everything, but her days off couldn’t come round soon enough so she could catch up on sleep. Not easy to do around a toddler with the energy of a trailer load of Energiser batteries.
‘Want me to get Aimee?’ Worry tainted Dad’s voice, adding to her sense of inadequacy. Not to mention her guilt for letting him see that yawn.
She tried for a grin, didn’t do too bad a job. ‘I’m making her wait, like you said.’
Dad grinned right back. ‘Look at you. Almost bouncing in the seat with wanting to go pick her up.’
He did way too much for her. It broke her heart, knowing that when he’d decided to take early retirement so he could start having some fun she’d messed up his plans. Not that she’d asked him to cancel the big trip to Europe he’d looked forward to for years. But being the awesome father he was there’d been no question of what he’d do when they’d learned her dreadful news. He had stepped up for her all her life. More especially after Mum had died. And now he did the same for Aimee.
Would she be half the parent he was? Some days that worried her sick. On the really bleak ones it frightened her to think she mightn’t get the chance to find out.
Aimee had evoked something primal within her. Like flicking a switch, bang, the love had turned on. Never to be turned off. A deep, unconditional love that had fine-tuned Charlie’s protective instincts, while also bringing so much joy to her life. She couldn’t wait for the years ahead to unfold. Already she watched with avarice as Aimee learned to feed herself, to stagger up onto her own feet and totter around the house, to give sticky hugs with those little arms—it all gave her so much pleasure. There’d be plenty more great things to come. She just knew it.
Wearing her Pollyanna hat? Definitely, though she wasn’t so naive as to think her daughter was going to be perfect. Actually, perfection was a fault in itself. Not so long ago she’d believed her life couldn’t get any better and look how that had blown up in her face. She was still recovering, might never return to the peaceful state of mind she’d innocently thought was hers for ever.
She shivered, rubbed her arms. Forced a smile. Pollyanna had quickly disappeared. The black worry that lurked at the edge of her mind expelled her happy moments all too quickly. Would that change one day? One day soon?
‘Charlie?’ Concern laced her dad’s voice. ‘You okay?’ With a lightness she didn’t feel she replied, ‘Sure am.’
Another cry from down the hall. This time Charlie didn’t hesitate. Jumping up, she headed for the door. ‘Yippee. Get up time. I want that first sleep-scented snuggle from Aimee.’
‘Okay.’ Dad conceded quickly enough. ‘Now that my grandgirl’s awake, I’ll get the hedge trimmer out and tidy up out the back.’
Charlie paused, turned back. ‘Dad, why don’t you go play a round of golf instead? The hedge can wait another few days. Take a break from the chores and enjoy yourself.’ Those lines around his mouth hadn’t been there a year ago. They were all due to her. Guilt spread through her like wildfire. ‘I’m so sorry.’
His face softened as he crossed to stomp up the steps to the deck, where he hugged her. His tone was gruff. ‘Cut that out, Charlotte Lang. There’s no point beating yourself up for something you had no say over.’
Sniffing in the dad scent she’d known her whole life, she blinked back tears and dredged up a smile. ‘Have I told you that you’re the best father ever?’ The familiar line fell easily between them.
‘Never.’ That too was the usual response. ‘Tomorrow, if the weather stays fine, I’ll take the boat out on the lake with Billy to do a spot of fishing. How’s that?’
That was progress. ‘Great. I’ll order up a perfect January day just for you. And I’ll get the barbecue ready.’ Of course the trout weren’t so easy to catch in midsummer but the men would have fun trying. At least trolling meant a bigger chance of success than river fishing. And she’d get in steak as a back-up.
Yeah, she had a plan. Plans were good, kept her on track through the rough patches. Then it dawned on her to look around, see the day for what it was. The sun shone bright and hot in the clear blue sky, making everything appear brand new and the flowers on the pohutukawa sharp red. And her tiredness wasn’t dominating her quite so much. In fact, she felt the best she had in a long time.
She surprised herself with, ‘I’m going to start getting fit. Take my bike out of the shed and pump up the tyres.’ She grinned, feeling the most relaxed she had for a long time. ‘That will probably take all my energy and I’ll have to have a nap afterwards, but it’s a start.’
Until the advent of Aimee she’d loved nothing better than to fall out of bed and hit the road on her cycle before going into work. And on her days off most of her spare time had been spent sailing her Paper Tiger across Lake Taupo, catching the erratic winds.
‘Don’t overdo it,’ said the doctor in her dad as he stepped away, averting his face in a vain attempt to hide his worry.
‘As if.’ Nowadays she took naps and spent her free time playing with dolls and building things out of plastic blocks with Aimee.
How drastically her life had changed since she’d returned home pregnant. She rubbed her tummy. Felt the surgical scar on her lower abdomen. Tried to ignore the flare of anguish. At least she’d had a child before her hysterectomy. She’d loved being pregnant and watching all the changes that had happened to her body. The months had flown past and then Aimee had arrived and she was in love.
Unfortunately, someone else had missed out on all that. Aimee’s father. Marshall Hunter, US Army medic.
If only he’d been able to share in the excitement, to be around to put his hand against her expanding belly and feel his daughter kick. Even if she found him tomorrow, he’d never get any of that back. Aimee was eighteen months old and nothing like the tiny scrap of arms and legs placed against her breast moments after the birth.
How stupid of she and Marshall to agree to going their separate ways at the end of their fling. Despite her heart breaking, she’d gone along with him. He’d assured her he was single, that they weren’t hurting anyone else, but he didn’t do long-term relationships. Rightly or wrongly, she’d believed him. He’d come across as genuine. But no one had told her she’d have a child from that liaison. There’d been no thunderclaps to warn her she’d need Marshall Hunter back in her life nine months later.
Had Marshall flown to the moon? Even if he had, he’d still be contactable. Wouldn’t he?
Well, she could be stubborn if it was important. And finding her daughter’s father ranked at the top of the scale. But as of today she wasn’t going to let the continual failure to achieve her goal get her down. She’d done with all that. It was time to start living full on, not half pie.
A louder shriek from down the hall told her Aimee was fed up with waiting. She