Page 55 of A Home Among the Snow Gums
‘Well, were you lying?’
‘No. I wasn’t lying. I don’t see a family in my future.’
There was steel in his voice that she’d not heard before; the sort of steel she imagined he might have used in the Navy.
Well, she had steel, too.
‘Yes or no,’ she said. ‘Will you or will you not consent to being a sperm donor for me?’
‘That’s not our deal. We already struck terms and committed to running a campdraft together and me supporting your solo parenting endeavour. Which I assume I am doing today by accompanying you on a journey out of Hanrahan.’
Two glasses arrived, tall and thin and filled with golden liquid.Celebration drinks, she thought bitterly. When had she ever had anything to celebrate?
She wasn’t going to cry. She sure as hell wasn’t going to think about another month’s egg going to waste, another lonely Christmas, a lifetime of evenings sitting on the sofa, knitting orphaned possum pouches because she’d finally succumbed to Marigold’s nonstop badgering to join that effing craft club.
‘Why did you come with me to this, Tom?’
‘Because you asked me to. Because I’m trying to be your friend. Because you seem a little vulnerable and I’m trying to look out for you and because Josh is worried about you.’
‘I don’t need anyone looking out for me.’
‘That’s not true. We all do. Since we’re asking the big questions, why did you agree to help out with the campdraft?’
‘So I’d have time to change your mind. I need a baby,’
‘Well, today you’ve just got me, so suck it up, brat. Now, what about a toast? To Hannah Cody, who has successfully managed to travel a couple hundred kilometres from Hanrahan without creating a third-party-property incident.’
She sniffed. ‘I guess that is something.’
He smiled at her. ‘It’s an amazing something. I’m proud of you.’ He clinked glasses with her and threw his champers down in one go. ‘Now, are we going to sit in here arguing with each other all afternoon, or are we going to go strut our stuff in front of this mean girl?’
She took a sip. The champagne was delicious, cold and dry, and hopefully Tom had put it on his credit card because she was pretty sure she couldn’t afford to buy anything so French tasting. ‘In the stables, Tom. I know we agreed it was nothing, but secretly I actually thought it was something.’
His smile slipped. ‘Maybe I’ve got a thing for chicks in stables. Right place, right time.’
‘Uh-huh. And how do you explain the sofa?’
‘Well, a sofa is an upholstered two- or three-seat item of furniture in which one sits to relax after a day of toil.’
‘Very cute. No wonder you studied law; you have a nasty way with words. Specifically, how do you explain your hand tiptoeing under my sweater while we were seated on your upholstered item of furniture?’
Tom looked into his empty champagne glass. ‘Shouldn’t we be finding our name cards on a table somewhere?’
‘Worried you’ll incriminate yourself?’
His smile faded and was gone entirely when he reached across the table and held her hand. ‘Hannah. I don’t know why you think having a baby with some random person—me or anyone—is a good idea.’
She swallowed. ‘It’s time.’
He frowned. ‘Time for what?’
Oh, boy, this was way, way more difficult than she had anticipated. Time she had someone of her own to love. Someone safe. Someone sweet. Someone about eight pounds in weight who looked awesome in a onesie.
A blare of music roared into the quiet of the bar from the reception room across the lobby and she stood, grateful for the interruption. ‘The wedding party has arrived,’ she said. ‘Let’s go pretend we’re enjoying ourselves.’
Three hours later, she wasn’t pretending any longer. She’d made small talk with strangers and successfully avoided the photographer. She’d thrown herself into the delights of the buffet and the champagne punch. Even the sperm-denier had been fun and made her laugh.
‘Let’s dance,’ she said to him, as they moved through the crowd by the dance floor.
