CHAPTER TWENTY

 

Just before midday, we walk in the front door at my parents’ home.  My mum is in the kitchen, and when she spots us, she immediately rushes over and hugs me.

“Hi, sweetie. Hi, Hamish.  Your dad’s out back if you want to go say hi.” 

We venture outside to say hi to my dad and find him cleaning the pool with a long net.

“There’s my girl,” he states, setting down the net to hug me and then shake Hamish’s hand. 

“Hey, Dad.  Where’s everyone else?”

“Ah,” he mutters, stalling, and my curiosity piques.

“Dad?”

“Screw it.  Let’s get this surprise happening now,” he says.

“What is it?”

“Come on.”  We follow him back inside.  “Ace, let’s go,” he says to my mum.

“Now? I thought we were going to wait a little while?”

“Nope, your daughter is too much like you.  She’s asking questions, trying to trip me up,” he accuses.  He’s not serious, though. The smile on his face gives him away.

“Don’t blame me!  I just asked where everyone was.”

“You know your father lacks control when it comes to his girls,” Mum chides.  “Come on then.”  She turns the cooktop off and we go out the front and climb inside their vehicle.  With dad behind the wheel, we drive off from the house.  It confuses me when he doesn’t head toward the main road, but down the dirt track by their house that leads further into the property.

“Where are we going?” I ask no one in particular.

“No idea,” Hamish replies.

“Stop asking questions, miss,” Dad warns.  I know if I pushed him further, he would spill.  He’s always been that way with us girls.  He might look tough and muscly, but he’s a big softy underneath all that.

A few minutes later, he stops and I see the house my Aunt Jules lived in when she first moved here from Sydney all those years ago.  She was pregnant with my cousin, Banjo, and wanted to be near her best friend—my mum—so she stayed in the cottage until Uncle Clay got his act together and made her his. 

“Why are we at the cottage?”

“Come on,” Dad says in reply.

We climb out and follow him through the old gate and up the broken cement path until we reach the front door.  He holds it open for me and I walk past him.

“SURPRISE!”

I jump back in shock as my family and friends cheer.  Then I shake my head and laugh.

“Oh, my god,” I gasp.

“There’s two surprises,” Dad says.  “The first is this.”  He sweeps a hand out.  “Your baby shower.  The second is the cottage.”

I notice the smell of paint for the first time, and as I look around, I also realise the carpet is new, and the entire place looks bigger.

“We renovated—it’s now four bedrooms.  And you’ll be glad to know the toilet is inside.”

“Amen!” shouts Jules, and a bubble of laughter bursts forth at the memory of the story she has told many times.  She was heavily pregnant, and the toilet was outside.

“You did all this for me?” I whisper at my dad.

“You’re my baby girl.  You’re moving home and you’re having my first grandbaby.  Of course I did all this for you.”

I sob as I rush into his arms.

“Calm down and enjoy your party.  Then I’ll be back to show you around.  But for now, us men are leaving.  We’ll be back at the house, sinking a few beers.  Come on, Hamish.”

At my dad’s announcement, Hamish kisses me softly then leaves with the guys. 

“I think I’m in shock,” I mutter.

“Come sit for a minute.  We’ve got games planned and there’s presents!” Aubree says, singing the last part.

“I didn’t even know you were here!”

“Of course I am. I wouldn’t miss it.”

I look around at the sea of faces and smile at everyone.  They’re all here – Mum, Ava, Jules, Kennedy, Laura, Sienna, Rosie and her friend Bridie, my sister Brooklyn, and my cousins, Haidee, Lila, Ivie, Daisy, Raine, Ella, Claira-Jade, and Molly.  Plus, Aubree and Genevieve from work, and a couple of the girls from the Cow and Calf.  The cottage is bursting at the seams, but the amount of love I feel is utterly overwhelming. 

Aubree ushers us all outside where there’s a bunch of garden chairs set up in a large circle and a table with food and decorations.  Off to the side is another table overflowing with gifts.  I gasp at the effort they have all gone to.

“You guys,” I whine as tears clog my throat.

“You deserve it,” Mum says.  “Go sit down.”

Brooklyn leads me a chair at the top of the circle and everyone sits around me.  Ivie walks past and offers us all pastries and sandwiches from a tray.

“Thanks, gorgeous,” I say as I take an egg sandwich triangle.

“You look really pretty, Olive,” she replies.

“Thank you.  So do you.”

“Okay, everyone, my co-host, Brooklyn is going to hand you all a clipboard, and we’re going to play the first game:  How Well Do You Know the Mum-To-Be?” Aubree says.

“Oh no,” I groan, grinning.

When everyone has a clipboard, pen, and answer sheet, Aubree begins.

“What is Olive’s middle name?”

Brooklyn asks the next question.  “What did Olive weigh when she was born?

From there, Aubree and Brooklyn continue to ask questions like, where I was born (the bathroom floor), my favourite colour (lilac), favourite food (roast chicken), and so on.  As they’re asking the questions, I write the correct answers down, and at the end, Brooklyn tallies up the results and announces a tie between my mum and Ava – completely unsurprising!

We continue playing games for the next couple of hours.  Aubree and Brooklyn have really gone above and beyond.  All the guests fill out a sheet guessing the baby’s sex, weight, and birthday, and I have to giggle when I see what Daisy has written.  Girl. 20 pounds. July 10.

Twenty pounds!

The guests are split down the middle as to whether I’m having a boy or a girl, most guess between seven and eight pounds, and all are within a week of my mid-September due date, which is just weeks away.

One by one, Brooklyn hands me the gifts to unwrap, while Aubree takes notes for me so I can send out thank-you cards. 

“Aww,” I gush, holding up an adorable white onesie.  It’s so tiny!  I place it over my enormous stomach and pose for a picture.

“I don’t think I’ll have to buy a single thing,” I say when I open the last present.  So far, I’ve gotten clothes, towels, blankets, sheets, a baby bath, lotions and powders, nappies, bottles, pacifiers—you name it, I’ve received it.  “Wow, thank you all so much,” I say, holding up the plush teddy bear I just unwrapped.  “I just can’t believe it.”  I wipe away a stray tear.  “I’m so overwhelmed and thankful to have such beautiful, caring, kind, and strong women in my life.  You guys have completely spoiled us today and I don’t know what to say.  You’re all the best!”

I stand up, and one by one, I hug everyone.  Then Brooklyn walks toward me carrying the most beautiful cake—it’s a giant baby bottle, and it looks oh-so cute.  The girls all cheer when I cut into it and then Aubree takes over to hand out slices.  Of course, I get the first piece and it tastes delicious. I hope there are leftovers!

Just then, the guys return and I look up to see my dad walking toward me carrying a huge wrapped box.  He places it down in front of me, smirks, and steps aside, and I see Hamish behind him, pushing a stroller.

My jaw drops.

“Oh, my god!”  The stroller is one I circled in a baby magazine—the one that was way too expensive and that I’d never buy, but it was my dream stroller.  And here it is.  In front of me.

Hamish kisses my cheek and whispers in my ear.  “You wanted it. I made it happen, baby.”

“You didn’t have to,” I say.

“Anything for my loves,” is his adamant reply.

“Open it,” dad instructs, gesturing with his eyes to the wrapped box he placed on the grass.

“Okay,” I murmur.  I rip the paper off and instantly know what is inside.

“You got me a car seat?” I gape.

He shakes his head, grinning.  “No, I got my grandbaby a car seat.”

“Thank you, Dad!  You spoil me too much.”  I throw my arms around his neck and once again, I’m crying.

“No need for thanks or tears.”  He swipes the wet off my cheeks with his calloused thumb.  “Is it the one you wanted?”

I nod.  “Yes.  I’m so grateful.”

The girls help me carry all the gifts inside, and then everyone except Hamish, Mum, Dad, and Brooklyn leave.  Then Dad shows me through the revamped cottage.  I notice the smell of fresh paint and can’t believe I missed that when I first walked inside.  Although, I was in shock from the surprise party awaiting me. 

The cottage used to be a basic, small, two-bedroom place with a functional but tiny kitchen and living room and a laundry.  The toilet was outside at the end of a path, and even though it was painted before Jules moved in, it was still a shack.  Now, it looks stunning.  Dad has added on two more bedrooms and a large bathroom.  The kitchen is completely remodelled, too, and of course the toilet is now inside.  The walls are painted a latte colour, and the carpets are cream to match.

It feels like… home.

“Dad, I don’t… I can’t even… I don’t know what to say,” I stumble out.  Shock and happiness steal my words and I’m left looking around with my mouth agape. 

“The fridge, freezer, and pantry are full of food,” Mum tells me.  “All the boys are on standby to help you move whenever you’re ready.”

“You guys…” I start sobbing again and my dad shakes his head ruefully.

“Ah, the hormones.  Good luck with that, son,” he says, clapping Hamish on the shoulder.  Then he and my mum and sister leave, but I don’t notice because I’m still too stunned.