I elbowed Lee’s knee, making him raise his head. “Are you okay if we stay tonight? I’ll sleep on the floor. I don’t care.”
“Do you guys mind?” He grimaced.
“Wasn’t I the one who suggested it?” Stew heaved to his feet. “It’s a great fucking idea. I’ve got beer and Bundy rum. I bags the couch.”
“Where’s Andy gonna crash then?” My brows dipped low.
I couldn’t imagine what Stewart would be like had he been in this situation. Could he be trusted to look after his sisters and brother? The words, fuck and no, came to mind.
“That’s her problem.” Stew shrugged.
“We have recliners,” Lee offered.
“There ya go. Ben and Andy on the recliners. Me stretched out on the couch. It’s a done deal. Let’s do this.” Stew swaggered back to his car as Lee and I made our way inside.
We found Andy leaning on the couch with Midget tucked under one arm, a box of tissues in her free hand. They spoke in hushed tones, Andy asking questions and Tish responding numbly.
“Have you spoken to your gran?”
“No.” Letitia hiccupped.
Andy smoothed the hair away from Midget’s face. “Has anyone told her?”
Tish’s hands clasped together. “I’m not sure.”
Andy looked up and our gazes met for the first time in forever. I offered a sad smile and not just for the tragedy we were witnessing.
She reciprocated, her eyes a bit cautious, before turning her attention to Lee. “Do you need me to call anyone for you?”
“I spoke to Gran earlier. That was fucking hard. Telling a mother that her child is dead isn’t something I ever want to do again.”
“Aw, Lee.” Her lip quivered, eyes glossy with tears threatening to spill. “Is she able to fly up here?”
“No. She’s not well. I might fly us down once things get sorted. It’d be good to see her.”
“I think that’s a great idea.”
He rubbed at the back of his head before averting his gaze. “I’m just going to go sit out the back.”
He wandered off in a daze.
I tugged at the front of my shirt, suddenly conscious that I was filthy. “We decided it would be best if we stayed here tonight. Are you up for it?” I asked her.
“My bag is in Stew’s car already.”
My brows took a hike under my fringe. And then I remembered—she’d known. She’d been prepared to come running when the shit hit the fan. Because she was that sort of a girl. Unafraid to meet things head on. No one would ever catch her running with her tail between her legs. She was fierce in the way she loved. If she loved you, there was no question mark about it—you knew it.
I fucking knew it.
She was the something unpredictable in my life, the splash of colour in my black and white, the special thrown in to set me off balance. She was perfect. And I’d fucking lost her.
What a dick.
“Good. That’s good.” I kept nodding like a dipshit bobblehead before I backed out of the room and followed Lee to the veranda.
Stew busted through the door, holding his latest trophy—the grog. “Let’s get shit-faced.”
As far as coping mechanisms went, it wasn’t a healthy one. But who the fuck was I to judge? If Mum and Geoff were to die, I’d probably get blind drunk, too. My father, on the other hand ... well, it wouldn’t make much of a difference, would it? I’d be sad. But I’d get over that real quick.
It looked like we were all in for a night of drowning our sorrows.
Andrea
Rockhampton, Australia
3rd of August, 2009, 9:38 p.m.
She’s finally asleep.
Tish blew out soft even breaths as she rested her head on my shoulder. The poor girl was utterly drained. We’d spent the night watching cheesy rom-coms on the couch while the boys drank and did whatever they were doing out the back.
I eased from under her, putting a couple of cushions in my place before going to ask if her brother could carry her to her bedroom. I didn’t even have to open the door to realise Ben was the only one remotely sober enough to do the job. Lee was leaning so far forward in his chair he was half lying on the table. One arm was stretched across the glass top, acting as a pillow for his head. Stewart was slumped on the opposite side with his feet on another chair, clutching a can of rum to his chest just like he’d done with his balls. Ben had a deck of cards set out in a game of solitaire.
I poked my head through the door. “Um, Ben?”
His head snapped up. “What’s up?”
“Could you give me a hand for a minute please?”
He tossed the cards away and pushed his chair out before circling the table. I stood back to give him room, chewing on my lip as he faced me. Oh, damn. It was hard seeing him. I would’ve loved to crawl into his arms and cry. This was horrible. So, so horrible. These poor kids. I was trying to be strong for them, but I just wanted to dissolve into tears. It was so unfair. Life was so fucking unfair. The one person who I wanted to turn to for comfort was right in front of me ... untouchable.
“Tish has fallen asleep on the couch. Do you reckon you could put her in bed?”
He nodded, heading for the lounge room. Scooping under her knees and back, he made light work of the task. I didn’t need to be reminded of how strong he was. I knew what it was like to be held by him. He was a gentle giant. My gentle giant.
I tucked the covers around
