Page 33 of The Knitting Club at Wagtail Ridge

CHAPTER

13

Why had he done that? Invited Bree to dinner. That had been foolish. Still, it wasn’t a date, certainly not with Vicki along; it was just a thank-you dinner. Matt wasn’t ready to date. He probably never would again. Going on a date with someone else would only remind him of all his dates with Kim. Dinners. Movies. Days walking in the mountains. Picnics, alone at first, but later with baby Vicki. Real, meaningful, exhausting, wonderful love had come with Kim. And it had gone when she died. He was content with that. He could never find anything that felt the same again. He wouldn’t try. And he had Vicki. She was all he needed.

As he pulled into the driveway of their home behind the office, his mind returned to another day, colder than this. Wet and gloomy, but one of the best days of his life. He had pulled into this very driveway for the first time with Kim beside him. Their new home. The home they would share with the child Kim was carrying. They’d laughed as they’d run through the rain to the front door. That night, they’d made love under their new roof and talked into the night of the future that awaited them and their child.

We never thought our time together would be so short, Kim.

They’d lived every day to the fullest, or so it had seemed. But if they had known then what was ahead—

‘Daddy?’

The voice from the back seat returned him to the here and now. ‘Yep. Coming.’

On the drive home from The Gums, Vicki had chatted incessantly about the alpacas. All she’d required from her father was to say ‘yes’ at the appropriate intervals. That had allowed his mind to wander. He shouldn’t do that. It hurt too much.

He unbuckled Vicki from the car seat and they headed inside. The moment he opened the door, they both heard the ringing. The iPad was lying on the coffee table in the lounge room. Vicki reached it first and swiped the screen.

‘It’s Granny,’ she yelled happily as FaceTime launched and a woman’s face came into view. ‘Hello, Granny. I saw the alpacas today.’

Matt frowned. He’d told Sally not to call at this time. The hours between school and dinner were his and Vicki’s time together. He hated that he had to work on weekends and this was his way of making it up to her. They often spent it playing table-top games or watching TV or reading a book together, or in the future, probably visiting alpacas. Cooking dinner together also counted as fun. This time was precious to him.

‘You’re all dirty, darling. Look at all the mud on your pretty top.’ Sally might be talking to her granddaughter, but the criticism was meant for him.

‘It’s not mud, Granny. It’s blood.’

‘Blood? Are you all right? What happened?’ Sally’s cry drowned out Vicki’s attempt to explain.

Matt took the iPad from his daughter. ‘She’s fine, Sally. We were visiting the alpaca farm and one of the animals was injured. Vicki was very good and helped Miss Johnston make sure the animal would be fine, didn’t you, Vicki?’

‘I wanna be a vet when I grow up.’

‘Really, a child her age shouldn’t be—’

Matt was not going to let Sally spoil Vicki’s day with one of her tirades. ‘I’m sorry, Sally, but we just came back in and don’t have time to speak now. Was there something you wanted? If not, Vicki will have lots of time to talk to you on Friday afternoon as usual.’

‘Well, no. But I think we should discuss—’

Matt turned to his daughter. ‘Vicki, why don’t you say goodbye to Granny? Go and change your clothes and then we can cook dinner together. How does that sound?’

‘But I wanted to tell Granny about the alpacas and how they spit.’

‘Did these animals spit on you?’ Sally sounded aghast.

‘No, Granny. It tried to, but Miss Johnston got in the way and it spitted on her. Eww. It was yucky.’

‘Okay, honey. Why don’t you go and find some clean clothes? You can have a shower before we cook dinner.’

‘Yes, Daddy. Bye, Granny.’

Matt took a slow, deep breath. It had been a good day. Not every day was a good day, not for him at least, and this was not how it was supposed to end.

‘Sally, I’m sorry, but this is really not a convenient time.’

‘I am not happy that our poor girl was exposed to an injured animal like that. Blood on her clothes. And spitting animals. That’s not very hygienic. What were you thinking, Matt? That’s not—’

‘Sally! Vicki is fine. She’s enjoying this new interest and I am encouraging it. Bree—Ms Johnston—assured me there would be no danger from the animals. And there wasn’t. I was with Vicki all the time.’

---