A Drop in the Ocean by Jenni Ogden

Author:Jenni Ogden
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: She Writes Press
Published: 2016-10-22T16:00:00+00:00

SIXTEEN

Early May and the island was emptying ahead of the cooler weather. The noddy terns had disappeared and the last of the adult shearwaters were leaving, abandoning their fledged chicks, who were still learning to fly. Turtle hatchlings had hatched and swum away, not to be seen again until they were dinner-plate size. Collette, as well as Diane and Ben, had just left. Everyone was at the wharf to say goodbye—to Diane and Ben, at least. I wasn’t sure they would have come out for Collette. But she seemed pleased. She’d probably never had a goodbye wharf session when she’d left before. I hugged her, briefly to be sure, but it was spontaneous. What’s more, she hugged me stiffly back and thanked me for all my help. I could feel Tom and Pat’s grins through the back of my head. Saying goodbye to Diane and Ben was a wrench. We’d shared Kirsty’s birthing and the miracle of Hamish’s arrival, an unbreakable bond.

Still, I felt as light as a reef heron as I waved them goodbye, watching Collette’s petite shape diminish to a mere dot as the boat sped away. Tom hugged me from behind and whispered in my ear.

“Big bed tonight, woman.”

We were well and truly a public item now, but he’d not been willing to go as far as sleeping with me in the room next to Collette.

WHEN PAT ARRIVED THIS MORNING THERE WAS NO YOO-HOO. I was finishing breakfast, sitting alone on my deck. I spent about three nights a week in Tom’s big bed, but the other nights we stayed apart. I’d convinced him that I too thought this was a marvelous plan. In truth I would have succumbed to six—seven?—nights a week together, but I knew Tom wanted his time alone.

I looked up from my Kindle when Pat’s shadow fell across me. I had never seen her looking her age before.

“What’s wrong?” My stomach went rock hard.

“I’ve got a lump,” Pat said, her hand touching her breast.

“It’s probably a benign cyst,” I said, feeling my own breasts tighten.

“I know. But it worries me.”

“When did you find it?”

“Last night, when I was showering. It feels big, Anna. Would you have a look and see what you think?”

“It’s not my area, Pat. I have no experience at all.”

“But would you check anyway? It’s a time when a husband would be helpful, just to confirm that it’s not my imagination.”

“Oh Pat, of course I’ll check you. I examine myself often enough, and I had a benign cyst removed years ago. It was no big deal but I was pretty anxious until I got the biopsy results.”

We went into my tiny bathroom and Pat removed her T-shirt and bra. She had a firm, fit body; her breasts were still perky. Not the droopy appendages so often seen on images of aging women, especially those with an unshakeable belief in breastfeeding. Even Pat’s tanned skin had somehow triumphed over the leathery wrinkles we were supposed to suffer if we exposed ourselves to the merciless sun.

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