Page 11 of Wedding Bells By the Creek

‘You’re very cute when you’re angry.’

She wanted to scream, but how could she? He was looking at her with that look he had. The look that made her feel like she was something special. That she was worth something. The look that told her she was loved. So she smiled instead.

‘So, what did Ed do?’ Max wanted to know.

‘Apparently he and my mother went for a walk this morning down by the creek.’

‘Really?’ Max’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. ‘I knew they spoke yesterday, but I didn’t realise they were at the walk by the creek point.’

Tia wished she could throw something at him. Walking by the creek was the local euphemism for teenagers going somewhere private to make out. And it usually was down by the creek …

‘This is my mother, for goodness sake. Stop that.’

Max chuckled. ‘All right. Tell me what Ed said to upset you so much?’

‘He was going on about how tough it must have been for my mother, not knowing where I was. And he told me I should give her a break. He’s as bad as you are.’

‘Ed and his son were estranged for a long time,’ Max pointed out reasonably. ‘He does understand. And as for you giving your mother a break. He’s right and you know it.’

Tia felt all the wind go out of her sails. She relaxed into the chair as her anger left her. ‘I know. You’re both right. But it’s hard.’

Max slid his chair back and came to the front of his desk. ‘Yes, it is,’ he said as he perched on the edge of the desk in front of her. ‘You’ve both got a lot of baggage to get past. But you can do it.’

Tia felt a suspicion of tears behind her eyes and she blinked them back. She wasn’t a crier. ‘I want to, Max. Honestly I do. But every time I look at her … there are such bad memories. I just can’t seem to let them go. And this morning. Sitting across the table from her like we used to do when I was small. Well, it was too much for me.’

Max dropped to a crouch in front of her chair, and took her hands in his. ‘Would it be better if I was there?’

‘Maybe …’

‘Why don’t you invite her to dinner tonight? I’ll cook and you can talk. It might be easier if there are three of us.’

‘And no Trish Warren fussing.’

‘Trish means well,’ Max said. ‘So? What do you think? Dinner for three at the police residence?’

Tia sighed. ‘You know, it’s really irritating that you are so reasonable all the time. Not to mention right.’

Max smiled and reached up to kiss her soundly on the lips. ‘No … it’s one of the reasons you love me.’

There he was – right again.

‘But I’m going to cook,’ Tia said in her most determined voice. ‘It’ll stop me going crazy waiting.’

‘No, it won’t,’ Max said. ‘But all right. You cook. But you’re not allowed to hide in the kitchen when she arrives.’

Tia stuck her tongue out at him as her mood lightened. Max had that effect on her. He could always make her feel better about herself.

‘And you have to call her and invite her,’ Max added firmly. ‘I’m not going to do it for you this time.’

Chapter Six

Helen walked to the police station alone. Max had offered to come to the pub and show her the way, but Helen had insisted she was fine on her own. Coorah Creek was a small place. She was hardly going to get lost. And she might need those few minutes alone to gather her courage for what lay ahead.

Anxious to avoid Trish, she walked out through the side door of the pub. The sun was low on the horizon, settling in for the long twilight to come, but it was still warm. The town was very still. There were no cars and no other people to be seen. The distant lonesome cry of a bird of some sort was the only sound as she crossed the road towards the small town square. There was a statue there, and she paused to look at it. It wasn’t the everyday sort of town square statue. Not a memorial to the town’s fallen soldiers, or anything recognisable at all. It seemed to be just a collection of twisted and entwined pieces of curved metal. Modern art, no less. All the way out here. Frowning, she walked around the statue, looking for a clue to its meaning.

Mother and Child. That’s what the plaque said it was called. Donated to the town by a father in gratitude for the rescue of his lost daughter. Helen took a couple of steps back and gazed at the statue again. It was complex and hard to understand, with no obvious reason for, or relationship to, such a title. But then again, maybe it did have something to say about the relationship between a mother and child.

Helen shook her head and turned away. There were enough problems ahead of her tonight. She didn’t need to start imagining more.

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