Page 65 of Forever Summer

“What’s that orange stuff?”

“Butter chicken.”

“Is it hot?”

“No, not overly, you get rice with it.”

“Oh, okay, well, I’ll have soup then, and a water. Make sure it’s from the back of the fridge, it will be colder.”

I sighed; come to think of it, perhaps Mum was one of the bigger reasons why I did move away.

“Coming up.”

I slid my tray along the bench. Was it wrong to feel so giddy about bain-marie food? I could feel my mouth salivating at the mere passive steam that drifted my way. Who needed five-star dining?

“Here you go, pumpkin soup and the coldest of cold waters,” I announced, sliding the goods off my tray and setting them before Mum, who didn’t seem very interested in all the hard work I had done to shove my arm right to the back of the fridge for her. I frowned, irritated by how distracted she seemed as she stared into the distance.

“What are you looking at?” I asked, starting to get really annoyed.

I followed her eyeline, trying to see who she was spying on and hoping she wasn’t being rude; honestly, Mum could really be like a kid in a high chair sometimes, she just didn’t care who she stared at.

“Is that … Kerry? Kerry Henderson?” she asked.

The moment the words tumbled out of Mum’s mouth I knew exactly who she was talking about.

Adam’s mum stood at reception, her hair shortly cropped and dark like her sons. She wore jeans and a fitted pink cardi set that kind of made her look washed out. It was the first time I’d seen her since I found out she was sick. I really wanted to go and put my arms around her and hug her so tight. Kerry had been like an adoptive mum to me, always dropping me off or picking me up from somewhere whenever my parents couldn’t. She was always the best movie night organiser, putting on spreads in the family rumpus room and checking if we needed anything to eat or drink. You would never go hungry or unnoticed at the Henderson house.

“She must be here for treatment,” I said, mainly to myself. “I’m gonna go say hi,” I said to Mum, and just before I could put down my tray something caught my eye. The automatic hospital door opened, and in walked Adam, car keys in hand, shades flipped back. Kerry turned around as he approached and smiled. Right before my butter chicken slid off my tray and went smashing to the bleach-white hospital floor, causing them both to turn and look my way.

There was no time to be embarrassed, or to worry greatly about the orange splatter that ran up my legs, or the cries of dismay from my mum who wanted to die a thousand deaths rather than be anywhere near me right now. I looked at it as an opportune moment to tear my eyes away from the likes of Adam’s shocked expression. All I could do was apologise frantically to the poor lunch lady who was on disaster control with her cloth.

“I am so, so sorry,” I kept repeating, but she seemed in good spirits about it, like she had seen this sort of thing a million times before.

Just when I thought the situation couldn’t get much worse two sets of feet stopped in my peripheral vision.

“Ellie? What are you doing here?”

I looked up to see Kerry Henderson smiling down at me, her eyes narrowed in confusion as if I was the last person she expected to see. My eyes shifted to Adam next to her, who looked on all stony and serious.

Yeah, well, she wasn’t the only one surprised.

Despite all the questions that were whirling around in my head, I managed to stand and do the one thing I promised I would do. I stepped forward, dodging the curry sauce, and wrapped my arms around Kerry. Feeling her tiny frame under my arms, I wanted to hug her so much tighter than I dared.

I stepped away, blanching as I looked down at the mess I had created that was now smeared in circles as the cafeteria lady went back to the kitchen to get a fresh cloth.

“Lucky I never spilt anything like this on your beige carpet, Kerry,” I said, eliciting a laugh from her.

“No, just red cordial.”

I cringed. “That was me, huh?”

“Oh, I still love you. Kind of makes me smile every time I walk past it. So what are you ladies doing here?”

“I came to see the specialist,” Mum began. “But I am on the waiting list until April; April, can you believe it?”

“Oh no,” Kerry said, sincerely dismayed.

I kind of zoned out of the exchange of my mum’s medical dramas as I simply squared off with Adam, looking straight into his eyes. Barely believing he had lied to me about going away for the weekend; instead, he was here, in Maitland. Had he not wanted to see me? I broke away from his serious gaze, listening in on the end of our mums’ conversation.

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