Page 120 of Weekends with the Sunshine Gardening Society
He nodded. ‘That she does. And I think she’d believe – as I do – that embracing life is exactly the course you should take now.’
His eyes held hers in a way that made it clear he was trying to tell her something he wanted her to take seriously.
‘We can hold more than one person in our hearts,’ he went on. ‘You may find there’s capacity in yours for someone else.’
Elizabeth was surprised at that, perhaps because the Bible doesn’t have many stories of women moving on after their husbands have died. If he’d told her that sackcloth and ashes were her destiny she’d have been more inclined to believe it. Yet she could see he was sincere.
‘Thank you, Reverend,’ she said, because there was nothing else to say.
Then this morning, standing in this very same kitchen at work, Olive came into the room, plonked her handbag on the table and announced, ‘I have a fella for you.’
‘What?’ Elizabeth stopped dunking her tea bag.
‘A fella. Nice looker. Has his own business. Mechanic along the river.’ She jerked her thumb to the west.
‘I, um …’ Elizabeth felt her cheeks colouring. ‘Thank you, but I’m not looking for a fella.’
Olive peered at her. ‘Not yet.’
It took a great deal of self-control for Elizabeth not to say that she wished everyone would stop trying to pair her off. She’s starting to get the impression that she unsettles them by being single. Except Olive understands her situation better than most and is generally well intentioned, so her pronouncement was no doubt meant to be helpful.
Now Olive’s back in the kitchen as Elizabeth is putting her sandwich on a plate.
‘How’s the packing-up going?’ Olive asks, looking down at the sandwich. ‘Egg and lettuce again?’
‘I like it,’ Elizabeth says. ‘And it’s going slowly because there’s only one of me.’
At that moment Doctor Lopes walks in, looking harried.
‘What’s wrong, Marco?’ Olive enquires.
‘I’m trying to get a patient into a specialist and there’s justno onearound here,’ he says. ‘I’ll have to send them to Brisbane.’
‘You often do.’ Olive opens the fridge and pokes her head inside it.
‘I know. I just wish … Sorry, Elizabeth, you’re probably tired of hearing me go on about things like that.’
‘Not at all.’ Elizabeth’s stomach rumbles but she suspects the eating of her sandwich is a while off.
‘Young Liz is moving,’ Olive announces, closing the fridge and turning towards Doctor Lopes.
‘Oh?’ He smiles. ‘When?’
‘Very soon.’ Another rumble and Elizabeth folds her arms over her midriff, as if that will keep her stomach quiet.
‘She needs help packing.’ Olive picks up her handbag and puts it over her shoulder, winking at Elizabeth.
‘I don’t!’ Elizabeth squeaks but Olive is already gone. ‘Honestly, I don’t.’
Doctor Lopes leans against the door. ‘I’d be more than happy to help,’ he says, his voice soft.
‘Really, Olive shouldn’t have said that. Sorry.’
He smiles and glances towards the front of the surgery, where Olive has no doubt positioned herself so she can hear everything.
‘She likes to orchestrate things,’ he says, looking back at Elizabeth. ‘It’s one of her better qualities.’
Now he’s staring at her and Elizabeth’s cheeks feel even hotter than before.
