Leap of Faith (36 page)

‘Yeah, they've got plenty to eat and they can go into the shelter. Right, I have chips – salt and vinegar, barbecue and corn,' she said, pulling out the bags and putting them on the coffee table. ‘Chocolate – dark, milk and white. And a couple of Cherry Ripe bars. I wasn't sure what level of crisis we're facing here. And finally, the ice-cream – honeycomb, chocolate and strawberry.' She extracted three small tubs. ‘So, what's the emergency?'

Jessica wondered briefly if Tiffany realised she'd brought everything in lots of threes – well, except for the Cherry Ripe bars. If she wasn't so intent on staring at the food and stopping herself drooling, she might have pointed it out.

‘Wow, you've thought of everything. Thanks so much. I'll put the ice-cream in the freezer for later,' Steve said, gathering the pots up.

‘Can you bring back four bowls, darling?'

‘You know dinner's almost ready?' Steve said, handing over the bowls.

‘Yeah, I know. But I'm starving,' she said. She wasn't hungry at all – that was a lie. This yearning was coming from her mouth – her tastebuds – rather than down in her stomach. She tore open the bag of salt and vinegar chips and tipped some into one of the bowls. She rather fancied diving head first into the bag, but restrained herself. She then broke up some squares of each variety of chocolate and piled them into a bowl, watched on by Steve and Tiffany, who didn't seem interested in the food at all. Their loss. She noticed they were exchanging shrugs and raised eyebrows. But she didn't care, she couldn't stop herself if she wanted to. Some strong, unknown force had taken over.

Unable to decide between white chocolate – weird when she actually preferred dark – and the chips, she made a sandwich out of both, and shoved it in her mouth.

‘Oh my God, it's heavenly,' she tried to say through her full mouth, but suspected it just sounded like a rumble. Orgasmic was the word. Jesus, it was good. Who would have thought?

‘Are you okay?' Tiffany asked. ‘Steve said on the phone something had happened. What's going on?'

Jessica told her cattle-moving story to Tiffany, who gradually became more and more bug-eyed. A few times the emotion threatened to engulf her, but she distracted herself from it with more chip and chocolate sandwiches.

‘Try it, it's
so
good,' she urged. But Steve and Tiffany just watched her as if she had suddenly grown an extra head. She shrugged at their disinterest.

Finally Jessica told Tiffany about phoning the retirement village and why, and learning of Mrs Rowntree's demise. And then the tears started. But this time they were short-lived – like a wave sweeping through.

‘It's okay,' she said, flapping her arm. ‘I guess it just wasn't meant to be.'

‘I'm sure she's up there somewhere and knows anyway,' Tiffany said kindly.

‘Maybe.'

Jessica's junk food binge was interrupted by the ding of the oven timer signalling their dinner was ready.

Looking down at her meal, she felt a little queasy. She really shouldn't have eaten all that crap. She found it hard to believe she actually had. It was so out of character. Oh, well, too late now. Unless she threw up, an event that was appearing more and more likely. She forced the thought aside and concentrated on cutting her chicken up and moving it and the rice around her plate to try to disguise her reluctance to eat it.

‘Someone's ruined their dinner,' Tiffany chided.

‘Hmm.' Jessica couldn't understand it; apricot chicken was one of her all-time favourites, but she could barely look at it. And the smell really was making her feel ill.

‘Are you okay?' Tiffany and Steve said, in unison.

‘Yeah, I'm fine,' she said. Though that was a lie too. She felt all out of kilter. And something told her it wasn't from the chips and chocolate. She hadn't had that much, when she thought about it. She noticed Tiffany and Steve were staring at her with thoughtful, knowing expressions.

‘What?' she demanded. ‘Have I got chocolate on my face, or something?' She rubbed her cheeks vigorously.

‘Um, you're not pregnant are you?' Tiffany said.

‘Don't be silly,' she said quickly. ‘Why would you …?' Slowly the pennies began to drop – the mood swings, the tears, the cravings. She wasn't sure about the queasiness – didn't you actually throw up with morning sickness?

Oh, wow, could I be? Really?

‘Cravings, mood swings,' Steve said, thoughtfully.

‘Weird combinations of food, floods of tears,' Tiffany added.

Jessica stared back at them. She couldn't make herself get up to check one of the remaining pregnancy test kits she had stashed in the bathroom cabinet – she didn't want the disappointment. While it was possible they might be right, she couldn't think of her dream coming true. She watched Tiffany get up and walk away from the table.

Jessica stared down at the box that had appeared in front of her.

‘Please put us all out of our misery,' Tiffany said, sitting down.

Jessica looked up at Steve, who seemed to have gone a bit ashen, though she was relieved to note his eyes shone with excitement. In her dazed state, she picked up the box and left the table.

She peed on the stick and waited. All those weeks ago, she'd bought the super-sensitive version that could be done any time of the day so she didn't have to wait until the morning. God, five minutes takes forever when you're waiting for news that could change your whole life.

Apprehension flooded her. What if she wasn't a good mother? What if the kid grew up to hate her? She calmed herself down. One bridge at a time.

Steve appeared just before the time was up – he must have been watching the clock. They stood together, arms around each other, at the bathroom sink. Jessica had placed the stick upside down beside the taps so she couldn't cheat.

‘According to my watch, that's five minutes,' Steve said. ‘Shall I?' He pointed at the stick.

Jessica nodded. She crossed her fingers behind her back. She felt sick, but most likely it was tension, apprehension and anticipation causing the churning.

Steve picked up the white plastic stick. Jessica stared at his shaking fingers.

‘Two stripes or one?' he asked, frowning at the object.

She'd thought she'd committed what they were looking for to memory, but her mind was blank. She picked up the box.

‘Two.'

‘We're pregnant, then,' Steve said a little matter-of-factly. ‘Well, you are. Oh, my God, we're going to have a baby.'

Jessica brought her hands up to her face. Tears filled her eyes. ‘Really? Oh. My. God. Really?'

‘See for yourself,' he said, turning the stick to her.

She could barely make the little window out, it was swimming beyond her veil of tears. But after a few blinks, things gradually became clear. And there they were, two little grey lines.

‘Um, guys?' Tiffany called. ‘The suspense is killing me.'

They walked out and over to the table, still entwined.

‘We're pregnant,' Steve said, looking at Jessica warmly. Jessica stared into Steve's eyes, thinking she'd never been so in love with him as she was right then. She looked at Tiffany and nodded, her eyes brimming with tears again.

‘Oh my God, oh my God,
oh my God
!' Tiffany cried, leaping up and jumping around. She hugged them both and soon they were dancing around in a circle holding hands.

‘I knew it,' she said, when they finally broke away and sat down.

‘I guess we'd better not tell anyone for a while. What is it – twelve weeks when it's considered safe?' Jessica said.

‘Probably best. My lips are sealed,' Tiffany said. ‘Ooh, I'm going to be an auntie – well, sort of.' She clapped her hands. ‘Well, this calls for honeycomb ice-cream.'

‘Oh, I'm not sure I can face it,' Jessica said, cringing.

‘But, it's your favourite,' Steve and Tiffany said in unison, aghast.

‘What about chocolate or strawberry?' Tiffany said.

‘No, thanks. But, actually, I would love a few sweet pickled gherkins,' she said.

‘Of course you would,' Tiffany said, laughing.

Steve rolled his eyes. ‘Well, thank God there's a jar already in the fridge. What am I in for?' But he was grinning.

Steve put the tub of honeycomb ice-cream on the table and the jar of gherkins in front of Jessica, smirking. Tiffany put a fork in front of her friend, also smirking.

‘Thank you,' Jessica said primly, took the lid off the jar, speared a short, fat, green gherkin and bit into it. ‘Yum. God, that's good,' she said, as she savoured the crisp texture and explosion of sweetness and tang in her mouth. ‘I reckon barbecue chips would go well with these,' she mumbled through her half-full mouth.

Around a year later

‘Say good luck, Mummy and Auntie Tiff, and wave bye-bye, Talia,' Steve said, lifting the three-month-old baby's arm and simulating a wave.

‘See you soon,' Jessica said, blowing a kiss from atop Faith. She was grinning from ear to ear. Life was pretty darned near perfect. She'd just done a half-decent dressage test – even a little better than last week's – and was about to embark on the cross-country phase. Thanks to Faith's love of water – and jumping generally – she didn't have any fears or concerns. Anyway, she was in the lower grades. At this level it was all about fun – there wasn't much that could go wrong. The thought of the things that could go wrong crossed her mind now and then, but she'd since accepted – thanks to much encouragement from Steve and badgering from Tiffany – that what would be, would be.

She turned Faith away and went over to where Tiffany was warming up, ready to head out on her round before Jessica.

Halfway through Jessica's pregnancy, they'd made a pact: If Jessica taught Tiffany how to jump and started back in the lower levels, Jessica would come and do one-day events with her. It made the events so much more fun and, while they were essentially competing against each other, they were there purely for enjoyment.

As it turned out, Tiffany hadn't needed a lot of tuition from Jessica, which was lucky, because Jessica had found baby Talia Faith Harrington took up a lot more time and energy than she ever would have thought possible. Though Jessica suspected she gave her daughter more time than she really needed.

Far too often, Jessica whiled away hours sitting in the rocking chair, holding Talia or just watching her while she slept, thinking she was the luckiest woman in the world. The baby really was the sweetest little thing – slept really well, barely cried, and was so far meeting all her target weights and measurements.

And Steve doted on her. And on Jessica. He always had, but something had shifted and he was now extra devoted to ‘his girls', as he referred to them. To the extent that he'd given up his Saturdays of tennis to come along to horse events and take care of Talia while Jessica rode. She and Tiffany regularly teased him that it was a good excuse – he'd been complaining on and off about knee and shoulder pain for the past few seasons.

Jessica loved that they now made these outings together as a family, and was careful to tell him so frequently. So close-knit were they these days that she regularly pushed the pram while Steve hacked his way around the golf course on a Sunday – his term, not hers.

One of the members of the local hunt club, Aaron Stanley, was the reason Tiffany hadn't needed too many jumping lessons from her best friend. Tiffany was smitten and Aaron seemed a really good guy. It had been love at first sight when Tiffany and Jessica had taken bottles of cold cordial down to the guys fixing the capped fences on Steve and Jessica's property and adding some extra logs to that part of the course along the creek after the storm.

It had been a hot day, and they'd watched them toiling from Jessica's lounge-room window and become intrigued when a few shirts had come off in the heat. Jessica maintained that she'd been providing moral support to Tiffany – she was a married woman, and heavily pregnant at the time. So she'd waddled the few hundred metres down to the workers, accompanying her friend. It had been a struggle, but if Tiffany was finally showing some interest in meeting a man again, which she clearly was, then who was Jessica to stand in her way?

Tiffany's eyes had locked with Aaron's over the top of the insulated water bottle and their fingers had touched as she'd handed it over. And the rest, as they say, was history – well, history in the making. If Jessica hadn't seen it for herself, she would never have believed it.

Six months on and Aaron had secretly consulted Jessica on ring styles and ideas for popping the question. She hadn't liked the pressure this put her under, but how could she not help? She hoped she could put on an Oscar-winning performance when Tiffany announced her news. Of course she'd come clean later, and she could imagine them dining on the story for years, but for now it was all about Tiffany and Aaron.

The best thing about it was that the four of them – five, with baby Talia Faith – got on so well. Quite often it seemed as if they spent more time together as a fivesome than as separate couples. Aaron didn't do eventing because he hated dressage with a passion, but he was here today strapping for both of them.

‘Good luck, safe travels,' Jessica called out to Tiffany, who had just been given her two-minute call.

‘You too,' Tiffany said, breathlessly. Tiffany suffered a little from nerves – understandable given she had come so late to the sport. But she said they disappeared after the first jump, and so far they hadn't paralysed her. And, like Jessica, she had a lovely, willing horse who was happy out on course.

A few butterflies fluttered deep in Jessica's stomach. She was up next. But these were of the friendly variety of butterfly – butterflies of excitement, of enjoyment – nothing like the birds of nervousness she used to fight against for focus. She'd come to realise that she'd been pushed far too hard by her father and that his aspirations for her had far outweighed her own. She'd just been on a merry-go-round that was going too fast to get off. She could find no other explanation for having been able to give up serious competition so easily. And there was no question that she'd have given it up for Talia – she'd do anything for her. She didn't even have any lingering feeling about giving up her place in the state team, which she'd officially done the day after the storm. Even the mutters of disappointment and few negative comments from people, which she faced quite regularly thanks to being back in the saddle in public again, didn't bother her these days. It was now all about having fun – both her and Faith.