Page 148 of Sugarloaf Ridge Lies

“He doesn’t sound like an all-round great guy, that’s for sure.”

“Nope. I didn’t like the way he spoke to her either. Like she wasn’t allowed to have a voice. Things were a little different back then.” She sighs. “Truly, apart from his looks, I don’t know what she saw in him.”

“What was she like?”

“Sweetest girl I ever met. Shy, but after we spent some time together, she opened up a little, but she was pretty guarded.”

“How so?”

“She’d always change the subject when you’d talk about family, or sometimes random things. There were rumours at school that she grew up in foster care. Something happened to her parents when she was young.”

My heart breaks at the idea of her bouncing around foster care and later finding herself in a relationship that had her running away, with child.

If this istheSkylah, I can’t imagine what her life was like thatabandoningher baby was her only option. Was it that she felt she couldn’t be a good mother, or was it circumstances out of her control?

“Your dog is crazy!” Jayson’s converse sneakers squeak on the flooring as he runs into the room, Pirate hot on his heels. Jayson removes the hood of his black jumper and sweeps his long ginger locks from his flushed face. He pulls out a chair and sits. Pirate jumps onto his lap.

“Jay, your mum needs to buy you a dog.” I drink in his beautiful smile surrounded by freckles, not a hint of the normal restraint he shows in day-to-day life. “One hundred percent.”

Jay and I glare at Jean on cue. She hates it when we team up against her.

The evil look from my aunt, followed by a smirk tells me she doesn’t want to outright agree. She’s fought getting a pet for years, arguing it would be extra work, but the way Jayson is with our three-legged friend, she has to say yes. Pets teach autistic kids empathy and help manage their behaviour. She knows this.

“Yeah, come on, Mum. We don’t even have to get a puppy. We could get a rescue dog. Give a dog a second chance.”

Smart kid, playing on memories of his mum’s childhood. Growing up in country Victoria, my mum always had stories of pets they’d taken on—birds, rabbits, and dogs from the nearby animal shelter.

Jean sighs and sips at her tea. She regards Jayson as the dog lick his cheeks. “It’s certainly helped with your anxiety this trip. It’s a maybe.”

“So we can?” The high pitch to Jayson’s voice tells me he won’t let this go. He will hound her the entire drive home, until he’s blue in the face. She knows this. Maybe she’s finally ready to adopt another member into the family.

She smirks. “Like I said, maybe. How about we go for a walk around the property. You can bring your new friend with us.”

“Ooh, I need to show you guys the new Flow Hive,” I say. “We’ll have honey on tap in no time.”

Jay grunts. “Cool.”

Aunt Jean takes photo after photo of the property, of Jayson running between the long rows of plants. She unashamedly drools over Jerry’s restored nineteen-forties Ford pick-up truck. She has me pose down by the sheds, wind in my hair, green fields in the background, and takes some photos with just Jerry and me. Jerry reciprocates with pics of the three of us, which brings tears to my eyes. Her snaps will be uploaded to Facebook before her head hits the pillow, but I’m grateful she took the time to create these memories. Having lost so much of our own family history, it’s nice to record our own.

“He’s a good kid,” Jerry says as we snuggle in bed, the house finally cloaked in silence. My heart swells with pride. Jayson doesn’t click with just anyone. Apart from Pirate, perhaps it was the fascination of setting up the new distilling equipment that kept Jay interested and in a good mood.I have Jerry to thank for that.

“Yeah, he is. We’ll have to search his backpack when he leaves. He might try to smuggle Pirate out of here.”

Jerry chuckles and presses his lips to mine. “Not on my watch.”

In the dim light cast from the lamp, I smooth my hands over his stubbled jaw.How I adore this man.“Thank you for spending time with my family.”Making the effort.

“’Course. They’re important to you, so they are to me. Your aunt’s pretty cool.”

“Are you only saying that because she adores your truck?”And you.

He grins. “Maybe.”

A muscle twinges in my lower back as I shift onto my left side. My breath catches in my throat as I rub at the point of pain.

Jerry tuts. “I told you to put your feet up this arvo, but you wouldn’t listen.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I grumble.

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