Page 125 of My Destiny
I clutch the photo in my hand as I place the box back on the shelf. Then I reach for my photo album, the one my mother made me. On the front page, next to the photo of her holding me in the hospital, just moments after my birth is a space. Pulling back the clear film on top, I place the pictures of them beside it. Jill’s words from this morning enter my mind. I wonder if my mum would be pleased that John and I have found each other. I guess I’ll never know the answer to that question, but I can only hope that she would be.
Stepping into the bath, I relax back into the water and try to clear my mind. So much is running through it, amplifying the throbbing pain in my head. I know I’m going to have to face all this sooner or later. To make matters worse, it will only be the two of us for dinner tonight, since Logan is working back, and I’m at a loss as to what to say to John.
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
Brooke
When the song comes to an end, I turn and face my students. “That’s a wrap, girls,” I say, clapping my hands. “For homework, I want you to work on your turns. We only have a few more weeks to get this perfect.” This is one of my advanced classes, so the routine is complex.
“Thank you, Miss Brooke,” a few of the girls says before collecting their things. I’ve been so flat out today, I’ve barely had time to think about my plans for this afternoon.
Over the past few weeks, things have settled down—at home, anyway. The studio is still crazy busy as we get all the finishing touches in place for the concert. It’s hard work, but it’s what the students strive for the entire year: a chance to perform for their family and friends. The end result is worth it.
The days have been long, and even more so for Logan. Our time together has been limited lately. I still get to see him in the evenings and briefly before work, but he’s been even busier than I have. He’s working on a big case that’s taking up all of his time, but he assures me things will slow down soon. I hope so because I’ve missed our one-on-one time together. I know he misses it too. He’s surprised me a few times by turning up at the studio and whisking me off for a romantic lunch. Although somewhat absent, he’s still as loving an attentive as ever. I hope that never changes.
John has recovered a lot during his time with us. Jill has been fussing over him like a mother hen, which he seems to love. I don’t think he got a fraction of that attention whilst living with his wife.
I’m pleased he’s doing well, but he’s now talking about leaving. He’s even been shopping around for an apartment. I’m not sure how I feel about that. We’ve grown somewhat closer in the short time we’ve spent together, getting to know each other a little better as each day passes. It’s been nice. I’ve yet to completely open myself up to him, but I’m working on that part.
He started driving again, and this morning over breakfast, he offered to pick me up after work. He wants to go to the cemetery. It’s been so long since I’ve visited my mother’s grave, and I’m racked with guilt because of it. Even after all these years, going there hasn’t gotten any easier. I always leave feeling a thousand times worse than I did when I arrived. But today, I’m doing it for him. I’m guessing it will be an emotional time for us both.
After my classes are over, I grab my phone off the dock and scoop up my dance bag, then head towards the change rooms. Since Chris usually escorts me to and from work, I travel in my dance gear, but today I brought regular clothes to change into for our visit to the cemetery.
When I reach the reception area, I find John already waiting for me. He starts beaming the moment he sees me. I’ve grown fond of that look. “Hi, sweetheart,” he says as he stands. “Are you ready to leave?”
“Yes.” I turn my attention to Laura. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Okay.” She yawns before focusing back on the computer screen. She looks just as tired and ragged as I feel.
“I got to watch the last part of your dance,” John says, holding the door open for me. “You really are talented.”
“Thank you.” We cross the road to where his car is parked and, like Logan, he opens the door for me. “Would you mind if we stopped off at a florist? I’d like to get some flowers for the gravesite.”
He points to the back seat, where I see a large bunch of yellow roses. “I hope you don’t mind, but I took the liberty of getting some on the way over.”
“Yellow roses?”
“Your mother’s favourite,” he says, finishing my thought. “I used to buy her a bunch every Friday. She loved them.”
I smile to myself. I’m starting to realise that a lot of things my mum liked are somehow connected to him. The perfume, the flowers, and the other night, Jill made a lemon meringue pie, which John said was his favourite dessert of all time. It was my mother’s also.
Once he’s seated in the driver’s side, he drapes his seatbelt across his body and clicks it into place. His car reeks of wealth and is a far cry from the bomb my mum used to get around in. Many times, it wouldn’t even start. On more than one occasion, it happened outside my school and I’d have to push her down the hill so she could clutch start it. All the kids would point and laugh, which was humiliating. It wasn’t my fault we were so poor. We were rich with love, but not so much with material things.
My eyes move to John and scan over his expensive gold watch. It’s a lot more lavish than the one my mother once gave him. It makes me second guess the surprise I have for him in my bag.
Then my eyes move to his Ralph Lauren polo shirt, designer pants, and tanned Italian leather moccasins that match his belt perfectly. It leaves a bitter taste in my mouth for some reason. Maybe it’s because Mum and I got most of our clothes from the op-shop, and it was only on the rare occasions she could afford to buy me something new. She always did without to make sure I was taken care of first. As much as I’ve warmed to him over the past two weeks, I can’t help but feel a touch of resentment towards him as I compare the different lives we’ve led.
“I spoke with Logan earlier,” he says, briefly looking over at me before pulling away from the kerb. “He’s working back again tonight.”
“I know. I was texting with him between classes.”
“He said he won’t be home until around eight.” I just nod because he told me the same thing. I can’t wait until this case is over. I trust him implicitly, but there’s a small, insecure part of me that worries about these longs hours he’s putting in. Jake used to say he was working back too, but he wasn’t. I push those thoughts out of my mind. Logan would never do that to me, partly because he’s been through it himself and knows how it feels. “I made a reservation for dinner at this little Italian restaurant on the other side of town. It’s a place I used to take your mother.” His eyes dart back to me. “I’d love it if you’d join me, only if you want to, of course. No pressure.”
“I’d like that,” I say, giving him a small smile.
“Great.”
The rest of the trip is travelled in silence, and as we near the cemetery, my anxiousness grows. It’s one thing to fall apart when I’m on my own, but something completely different when it happens in front of someone I barely know. I’m hoping I can keep it together today, but only time will tell. Coming here has always been hard for me, which is why I haven’t been in a while.
