Page 49 of Autumn at the Oak Leaf Café
‘One of his mates posted it on the cricket team social group page. She was in Brentwell Hospital after suffering a stroke several weeks ago. Yesterday afternoon she passed away.’
Madeline had to sit down. She had never got around to asking Darren why he had been in the hospital that day she had thrown the cake at him, but his cheerful demeanour had convinced her it hadn’t been for anything serious. Now, the weight of guilt felt like Big Gerry had fallen on her head.
‘That’s … awful,’ she said.
‘You know she brought him up, don’t you? He never knew his dad and his mum was kind of a waster who died young. His grandmother was everything to him.’
Madeline gave a deflated sigh.And I thought I had baggage.‘No,’ she said. ‘I never knew that.’
‘Don’t let it get you down. He doesn’t talk about it much because he’s a forward-thinking kind of guy. I just thought I’d let you know.’
‘It sounds like you know him pretty well.’
Ruby shrugged. ‘You’ve got to talk about something when you’re batting. You know when the batters meet in the middle between overs? There’s only so long you can talk about the weather.’
‘I suppose.’
‘He probably won’t appreciate me telling you, so it might be better to wait until he offers the information, but he seems to like you, so I thought you might as well know.’
Madeline nodded. ‘Thanks.’
‘Oh, Jesus.’
‘What?’
Ruby pointed out through the door. ‘Just when you thought the storm was over, here comes another round.’
Madeline stood up. Walking up the path from Big Gerry’s mural plaza was a large group of tourists, foreign at a guess from the guide at the front holding up a flag. As she watched, the guide lifted a hand to point at the café. A couple of the tourists checked their watches, then like a giant caterpillar spotting a fresh leaf, as one they began to increase their pace.
‘Action stations,’ Madeline said. ‘I’ll drop you a few extra slices of pie for this.’
Ruby grinned. ‘You’re the best boss ever. I’d better get a gift token in my Christmas card.’
The tourist group stayed most of the afternoon. By the time they were done, Madeline was almost out of stock but the day’s takings were not far off what she might have expected for the week. At five o’clock she waved an exhausted Ruby goodbye and flipped the sign to CLOSED. Usually she would stay open another half an hour or so, but her legs were killing her. She scooped up Hazel and sat down on the easy chair to take a long overdue rest.
She was only halfway through her own well-deserved cup of coffee when someone tapped on the door. She thought about ignoring it, but it might be something important, so she moved Hazel off her lap and got up to check.
Her heart skipped a beat. Darren was peering through the glass panes of the door. When he saw her, he smiled and lifted a hand to wave.
‘Hi!’ she said, letting him in, unable to keep the smile off her face. Hazel immediately jumped up from the chair and began to circumnavigate his legs. ‘Thank you for the, uh, present. I haven’t tried them on yet, but I will before Sunday. I’m sure they’ll … fit.’
‘That’s great. And thanks to you for the pie. The staff loved it. So sorry about yesterday, I did mean to come, but something came up.’
‘It’s okay.’ She looked down. ‘Ah … Ruby told me about your grandmother.’
Darren’s smile dropped. ‘Oh.’
‘I’m really sorry. And I feel terrible that I didn’t know that was why you were in the hospital that day. I’m so sorry I didn’t think to ask.’
Darren reached out and took her arm, giving it a gentle squeeze. ‘It’s quite all right. I mean, we didn’t know each other or anything, did we? And you know, it was hard to talk about. I knew it was coming, because she hadn’t woken up after the stroke. It was still hard, though. The thing is, I know this sounds stupid, but I’ve been around a lot of death. It might just be pets, but I know how to balance hope versus reality. I knew she was going, and I was ready.’
‘It still must have been hard.’
He was still touching her arm. Madeline figured she might as well return the favour, and before she knew it, she had put one hand over his. He didn’t so much as flinch, and it felt so natural that she gave his hand a little squeeze.
‘Yeah, it hurt,’ Darren said. ‘But you know, that’s life, isn’t it? I mean, not life, but, well, you know.’
‘I understand. My mother died just a few weeks before I came home. She had been wheelchair-bound for years. The worst thing was that no one told me. She didn’t want to cause any upheaval in my life by dying. It’s ridiculous when you think about it.’
