Miracle In March (17 page)

‘Now, I know you still need our support, and we want to be around for you and Jackson too, so we made a few enquiries.' Marie glanced at Martin again.

‘Enquiries? About what?'

His dad cleared his throat. ‘Turns out an old friend of mine owns a real estate agency up north, and when I happened to mention our family situation, he told us he has a grandson with autism too.'

‘And?' James didn't like where this was going.

‘He goes to a really good school there. A special school, tailored to these kids. Reg, my old pal, said his daughter is good friends with one of the admin staff there and could have a chat to you about the possibility of enrolling Jackson for the year after next.'

School. Queensland. Big changes. James wasn't ready for this. He just wanted to get through this week first, but knew he'd have to start planning schooling for Jackson and make some definite decisions. ‘Hang on, shouldn't you have discussed this with me before making enquiries?'

‘That's what we're doing now, and we only enquired about housing options which led to finding out about the school, so it all sort of fell into place.' His mum grasped his hand. ‘Darling, I think this could be good thing for you and Jackson. A fresh start. And it would be great for us all to be together.'

‘Your mother has a point. And now that your Nonna is…not around anymore, there's less need for us to stay here.'

‘Less need? Jackson's going to have needs for the rest of his life.' He stood. ‘I don't want to hold you back, you're free to go where you please, but now I'm starting this new program I'll need some help with him. It could take a while to find someone he's comfortable with.'

‘So come with us.' His mother stood too. ‘Leave the past behind and move on to a new place with new people and new opportunities.'

James ran his fingers through his hair. ‘But Jackson, he likes it here. There's no way of knowing what he'd be like in a new environment. I don't want to upset him with too many changes.'

‘I understand that, love, but now is the best time, while he's young and not at school. If you move earlier, you'll have time to settle him in before school starts.'

James paced across the room.

‘Look,' his father said. ‘Think on it. No need to decide right now.'

‘I don't know if I could decide this week, let alone right now.'

‘Okay. We'll leave it with you.' Marie patted him on the back. ‘Just wanted to give you the heads up so you were informed, in case the topic came up with André.'

‘Fair enough,' he said flatly.

‘Right, well we better head off to dinner.' She took hold of her husband's elbow. ‘We can talk more about it another time.'

He nodded and saw them to the door.

‘Bye, Jackson,' Marie called. The boy continued playing with his toys. James' heart sunk at the resigned look of sadness on his mother's face. He knew she did her best to stay positive and accept him the way he was, but of course it still hurt that she couldn't interact fully with her first grandchild. No wonder she wanted to be close to Lizzie when her baby was born. It would be a second chance.

As his parents walked away from the cabin, so did a sense of security. Like he'd been abandoned, the way he'd felt when Emma left. Only now there was more at stake.

It wasn't that moving to Queensland was a bad idea, and he did need to look at all options for Jackson, but now, things had changed. Now he couldn't help but wonder if meeting Emma again had come at the right time. Now he had more to take into consideration before making any big decisions.

* * *

All thoughts of the conversation with his parents faded away when he opened the door to Emma later that evening. Her cheeks were rosy and hair was silky, framing her face softly and curving around her shoulders. Her sky-blue top formed a V on her chest, drawing his attention downwards.

‘You look nice,' he said.

She tucked hair behind her ear. ‘Thanks.'

‘Yoga was good?'

‘It was actually. Definitely got the blood flowing.'

‘I can tell. You look all rosy and healthy.'

She smiled and lowered her head. Then he had an urge to do something. She might think it silly but the temptation was too great to resist. He held up a finger as if to say ‘wait a sec', then picked up Jackson's Sound Machine. He pressed a button and a wolf-whistle pierced the air. He bit back a grin.

Emma's eyebrows rose and her mouth opened in surprise. ‘Well, who needs words when we have that, huh?' She chuckled and her cheeks became even rosier.

‘It definitely comes in handy sometimes, and not only for Jackson.' He placed it back down and Jackson pressed the same button, releasing another whistle into the room. James hoped he wouldn't get too used to that one and press it while they were out in public, in case random women thought he was whistling at them.

Emma stepped inside and walked over to his son. She placed a sketchpad and pencils on the floor. ‘There you go. In case you feel like drawing.'

‘That's nice of you. Thanks, Emma.'

‘My pleasure. It's okay if he doesn't use them, just thought I'd leave them in case.'

‘Judging by the fact that he once drew all over one of my important documents, I'd say he probably
will
be interested in them.' James gestured to the couch for Emma to sit. ‘And what about your drawings, I take it you brought them?'

‘Yes.' She withdrew some papers from her bag as they sat on the couch.

James placed them on his lap and studied them one by one. Some were pencil drawings, others watercolours. Some were simple doodles and others fully realised artworks. All were beautiful. ‘Emma, these are amazing. I had no idea you could do this.'

His gaze lingered on one of a large, old tree beside a lake, its branches reaching out in all directions and a tyre-swing hanging from it. ‘I love it.' It made him think of childhood, playing outdoors as a kid. Freedom.

‘Thank you.' She smiled softly as he glanced her way.

‘You could make a book of them all.'

‘Like one of those coffee table books?' she asked, and he nodded. ‘Maybe one day I will.'

‘You should.' He looked at some more. ‘Did you use anything as inspiration or draw them from your imagination?'

‘A bit of both. Some were copied from pictures I found in magazines, others I just let the pencil lead me where it wanted to go.'

‘Go with the flow, huh?'

‘Yeah. Go with the flow.' Emma looked off into the distance for a moment, as though that phrase meant something to her.

Did she want to go with the flow tonight, or did she have firm guidelines in her mind of how things would or would not unfold between them? James wished he could read her mind. But by looking closer at the drawings, it was as though he could get a glimpse into her heart, her soul even. Especially with the watercolours. The way the colours blended and contrasted in the same picture told of conflicting emotions, the curves and shapes of the brush strokes hinted at a delicate ebb and flow of those emotions, a sense of acceptance, but in some, also uncertainty and apprehension. The whole emotional spectrum was displayed in these drawings, and he felt privileged to be shown them.

He, too, felt conflicted. He was glad to not be consumed by anger and sadness anymore, and too much time had passed. He just wanted to spend time with her and see if their connection was still strong. So far, it looked that way, but it was early days. What if things didn't work out? What if she got scared and retreated again, hurt him all over again? He didn't know if he could bear that. Or worse, what if he wasn't enough for her? Life with Jackson would be a challenge, and to be honest, he wasn't sure he wanted a big family anymore. All his resources and strength were channelled to Jackson, and always would be. How could he possibly father another child, biologically or via adoption, and still provide the same level of care for his son? Emma probably wanted to adopt a few kids now that she couldn't have any of her own, and if that were the case, then he would be no good for her. Maybe he
should
just up and move to Queensland.

‘So, have you eaten?' he asked, aware that he was probably zoning out a little.

‘I haven't actually.'

James stood. ‘Time for the one-pot-wonder then.' He went to the kitchen and withdrew the casserole dish from the fridge, and scooped two servings into bowls.

‘Jackson already eaten?'

‘Yep.'

James microwaved the dinner and placed the bowls on the table.

‘Thanks for this.'

‘Don't thank me, thank my mum.' He grinned.

Jackson moved about the room for a while as they ate, then returned to the living room floor.

‘How's your program going, the one you just set up?' Emma enquired.

James had the urge to check his emails again, but restrained himself. ‘Good, thanks. Another sale came in today, which makes three. Doesn't sound like much but it is, and I only want a few clients for this particular program.'

‘Congrats. Sounds like you're providing a needed service.'

‘Hope so. Some think my stuff is unnecessary, a way to milk new graduates of their savings, but they can think what they want. I'm happy with what I've created and so are my customers.' He hoped he didn't come across as having a big ego, but he was just being honest. When it came to his work, he knew what he had to offer and offered it. The naysayers could get stuffed. His results in private practice spoke for themselves.

‘I'm pleased for you.' A soft smile formed as she reached for her glass. ‘It's good to help similar people with things you've learned. Maybe I should do something to help cancer survivors, or those going through treatment. Don't know what though.'

Emma. Always helping. It was a great idea, but he hoped she would at least look after her own needs for a while. ‘That's a great idea. But maybe you should…take some time for yourself first.' Maybe his question was really a way to see if she was keen to leave the past in the past and move on from his life.

Emma gave a subtle nod.

‘Did you say you wanted to go overseas for a while?'

‘I did. But I'll reassess after mum and dad are sorted with the cabins. I don't want to leave if I'm still needed.'

Something deep inside James said, ‘
I
need you.' He ignored it and took a swig of wine. He sensed Emma realised the double meaning in her words after she'd spoken, as she lowered her head and scratched her neck, though he doubted it was itchy.

‘So, ah,' she said. ‘When was Jackson diagnosed with autism?'

James thought back to his son's early years and the concern his mother had shown at her grandson's slow development. He hadn't been worried at first, he'd never had any other child to compare Jackson to, and he thought he was just a unique kid. But when he finally got him checked out and his mum's fears were validated, it was a shock. His son — autistic? He hadn't even known much about the condition, but the more he researched the more he realised the clues were spot on. ‘About two years old,' he replied. ‘He had further testing done later to determine how he was progressing, but it was pretty clear from the testing that he was on the spectrum.'

‘Must have been a lot to take in.' Her eyes connected with his and her empathy soothed him like a soft blanket.

‘It was. But things are better now that I know what we're dealing with and have had a chance to get him into various therapies. There's been a lot of support for him, it's been great.'

‘That's great. And, um…' She bit her lip. ‘Did his mother ever find out about the diagnosis?'

He wasn't expecting that question.

‘Sorry, I should mind my own business.' She flicked her hand.

‘No, it's okay. I don't mind talking about it with you. You're a good listener.'

Emma smiled and he felt like he could tell her anything, everything that was bottled up inside. She had that effect on people, on him.

‘She knows. At least, I texted her to let her know. But never got a reply.'

Unlike the first time…

‘Might as well,' said Lizzie. ‘Even if I had given up a child, part of me would still like to know that they're healthy.'

‘Okay. I'll do it.' James sent Stacey a text message the day after Jackson's first birthday:

Just letting you know he's well. Hope you are too.

She'd replied:

Thanks. I am.

And that was it. The last he'd ever heard from her. A year later when the diagnosis had come in, he'd felt alone and wished he could discuss the implications with someone apart from his parents and sister. His friends didn't understand. Part of him, although it was stupid, wished Stacey would have a massive personal transformation and change her mind and come back, if only to help with Jackson and to quench his painful loneliness.

But his next text message informing her of Jackson's diagnosis —
just wanted to keep you informed —
met with no reply. He'd sent a follow up —
sorry if I've upset you, just needed to tell you. I don't expect anything. He'll be okay, I'll be okay.

But unless she'd changed her phone number, she obviously wanted to sever all ties. So he vowed never to contact her again.

‘We'll be there for you,' said Lizzie when he'd told her what happened. ‘You can do this. You'll be the best dad for him. You already are.'

And he'd leaned onto his sister's shoulder and let silent tears stream down his cheek.

‘I'm sorry. Again. What you've done on your own is truly admirable.' Emma lightly touched his hand.

He simply nodded a thank you. He glanced towards Jackson as he sat there…drawing? James stood, ready to press the applause button on the Sound Machine when he realised what his son was drawing on. ‘Oh no, Jackson!' He rushed to him and took the paper from his hand. Paper with one of Emma's drawings on it. Jackson screamed. ‘You need to draw on blank paper, mate, not this.'
Holy crap.