CHAPTER EIGHT

For the first time in a long time Mitchell found himself pressed for time. He gulped the last of his heart starter and almost ran to the shower. Taking extra care preening himself, he delicately shaved the two-day growth accrued for no reason other than apathy. He chose a simple dress of jeans and long-sleeved shirt and admired himself in the mirror for the first time in God knows how long.

Mitchell’s car was an old rattler he’d bought after returning from overseas. It wasn’t much but got him from A to B with little effort and after all just a car. Years ago, he took pride in what he drove, what he wore, and the image that projected. But at some point he realised none of that really mattered. They were only for show. Reversing out of his driveway the ever-present squeal of an ill-fitting fan belt brought a smile to his face; he really didn’t care about things like that anymore. Twenty minutes later he was driving through the leafy suburb across the river where Sarah lived. 

The home of Sarah Martinelli was a pleasant looking blonde brick house build during his father’s era. Mitchell checked himself in the revision mirror and muttered, “Here goes”, and with a lost air of confidence, walked up the front path to press the doorbell. His heart fluttered inexplicably as he waited for the door to open. 

“What are you worried about?” he again muttered as his eyes were drawn to the worn 1960’s mosaic tiles adorning the front porch. He was startled by a creak of the front door opening but surprised to be greeted by a young girl in a wheelchair.

“Well hello there young lady, my name is Mitchell. Is Sarah here?” Any apprehension soon abated as the girl broadened her already evident smile and said,

“Hi, I’m Christina and Mum’s been in the bathroom all afternoon. But yep she’s here.”

Christina rolled back effortlessly and ushered Mitchell into a modest foyer where an older lady, no doubt Sarah’s mother, met him. Her features while aged showed beauty of years past, and Mitch laughed remembering words his fathered uttered long before he had any idea of their meaning….look at the mother and you’ll see the woman.

“Hi, I’m Mitchell. You must be Sarah’s mother. How do you do?”

“Hello Mitchell, so lovely to meet you. I’m Rosemary. Sarah is just finishing up and will be out shortly. Please, come inside and make yourself comfortable. Can I offer you a drink?”

Mitchell wanted nothing more than a drink right now but politely declined. He took a seat on a well-aged lounge and began the awkward small talk when meeting the mother and daughter of a first date.

Thankfully the clip of high heels on tiles broke the polite talk. Mitch turned to see a woman almost unrecognisable. Sarah’s smile was wider than ever seen in the café and she held an air of elegance a coffee stained apron would never allow. Her golden locks flowed freely, and the make-up while minimal, accentuated her natural beauty. Sarah truly looked lovely. 

He rose to greet her with a kiss on the cheek, then stood back slightly and whispered,

“You look radiant.” Sarah blushed as best he could tell, and a moment of clumsiness ensured. But only briefly. Mitch suddenly felt very underdressed.

“Christina, be a good girl and do what grandma asks. I won’t be late and want you to have a good night…but don’t stay up too late…and remember to brush your teeth!” Two kisses followed her words and a discrete smile exchanged between the older mother and daughter; as only they knew how. Mitchell said goodnight then escorted Sarah to the passenger side of his car. Opening her door, he noticed Rosemary smiling in a way he suspected she hadn’t shown for some time. No matter what, tonight would be a good night.

It was only a short drive to the restaurant and they easily entered into casual conversation with Sarah being the first to break the pleasantries. 

“Well, that wasn’t so awkward was it?” 

“Not at all. But it has been a long time since I met the mother of a date, not to mention her daughter,” Mitch replied turning to Sarah with a cheeky smile. 

They both laughed. Yes, the night would be a good night.

Casual and local was the request and the chosen eatery was exactly that; family run for generations and regarded a local attraction. The Sea Horse formed part of a small marina, its’ most redeeming feature being it overlooked the river. In the afternoon the setting sun would sparkle off the water while the bobbing boats swayed on the swell. The perfect place for a long lunch. At night though the outlook changed. Hundreds of tiny lights shimmered across the glass-like water, and if the moon was out, it rose perfectly framed by the front windows. At night, the vista evoked romance.

Sarah and Mitchell entered with some apprehension and guided to a table by the front window. They looked at the surroundings, then at each other, but remained silent; a little surprised by what they saw. Old wine bottles netted in cane baskets hung randomly around the room, and a quintessential fishing net draped lazily across one corner of the ceiling. An eclectic set of nautical pictures adorned the patchily painted walls, and a large tank at the front of the restaurant swam with lobsters, crabs and freshly caught fish. Soft music played but Mitch struggled to tell what song such were the acoustics of the old room. Flickering candlelight danced off the walls synchronistically to the music. Sarah looked at Mitchell and they burst into laughter.

“I hear nothing but great things about this place…let’s hope the décor doesn’t detract from the meal,” Mitch finally offered during a break in the laughter.

A waiter presented menus then recited the daily specials. Mitchell chivalrously selected a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc to go perfectly with any seafood dish. 

“Thank you for asking me out tonight Mitchell. It was perfect timing and I’m glad we finally got around to doing this,” Sarah said clinking glasses and taking her first sip of wine. As expected, they found little trouble talking and Mitch was purposeful in learning more about Sarah having her undivided attention.

Sarah Martinelli was thirty-four years old and like Mitchell, came from a humble background in the suburbs of Sydney. As an only child her parents adored her, raising her to the best of their abilities but never beyond their means. She studied hard at school, something coming very naturally, and was studious, bright, and above all very caring. Under her father’s tutelage she gained sufficient grades to embark on any career of her choice. But with her parents struggling, Sarah felt compelled to become a lawyer or teacher to repay them. To make them happy. But that wasn’t in her heart. She dreamt of something truer and what she believed was her calling.

Sarah’s passion was food and of serving others. Her childhood dream was to open a café renowned for healthy, home-style foods always served with a smile. As a girl she spent countless hours at her grandmother’s house learning old traditions passed from generation to generation and would stand on an upturned wooden box to gain height and listen intently to every instruction. Methodically she watched her grandmother sweep across the small but well organised kitchen learning her skills. When the family gathered for the traditional Sunday dinner, Sarah almost toppled over from the weight of lavishly proportioned dishes she carried to the table. Brimming with pride, she loved catering to others. That was her calling and when at her happiest. Even in her teenage years Sarah often refused her friend’s requests to go out socializing. She preferred to visit her beloved grandmother and learn all she could before she ultimately passed away in her late seventies.

Following her death, it was with heavy heart Sarah confessed her desire to travel overseas after finishing high school. Her father was particularly disappointed, but nonetheless both parents gave their blessing knowing it was the right choice. For her.

Sarah travelled the continent for nearly six months with her childhood sweetheart. The young lovers did everything expected when abroad, visiting typical tourist sites and getting in all manner of trouble. They were discovering each other and their place in the world. It was however over a shared beer in Dubrovnik that their journey ended. With only a veiled excuse and even less warning, Sarah’s boyfriend announced he was heading to the United States. Alone. She wasn’t asked to join him, and she never asked to. They instead said their goodbyes a few days later, leaving Sarah alone for the first time in her life. On the other side of the world.

Over the next eighteen months she worked her way across Europe picking up various jobs in small cafes, coffee houses, and restaurants. Despite having no formal qualifications, Sarah had little trouble finding work as her commitment and passionate talent were easily recognised. That worked to her favour and she fortuitously found herself the charge of Milan’s most respected barista and spent a year settled in the city learning the native tongue and crafting her skills in coffee making. It was there she met Allesandro Martinelli. A native Milanese and stereotypical Italian. 

Six-foot tall, rich olive skin, and think black hair Sarah loved running her fingers through. His accent was romantic in nature and a perpetual two-day growth accentuated his striking jaw line and chiseled chin. And his clothes…they were persistently immaculate. It wasn’t hard for Sarah to immediately fall for Alessandro. And fall she did.

Their love affair was idyllic, set amongst the backdrop of Europe’s finest cities and practically surreal. Her days were spent making coffee, her nights spent making love. It was every girl’s dream. 

But in many ways that frightened Sarah. The speed and intensity of the relationship was intimidating and after days of heavy thought, she inexplicably decided to return home to her parents. She ran.

Back in Australia for only six weeks, Alessandro to her surprise knocked on her parent’s front door. He dropped to his knees declaring undying love and proposed marriage in a thick Italian accent even Rosemary found hard to resist. Despite her previous decision, and without a clear thought in her mind, Sarah accepted Allesandro’s proposal and they married almost immediately. Within the year the lovely Christina was born. 

Mitch listened to Sarah’s tale finding it truly beautiful, but was ashamed of his own jealously. 

He thought of Juliana and the undeniable parallels between their lives: almost unbelievable. He drifted from the table deep in thought, suppressing a tear wishing she were with him right now. Sarah achieved what Mitchell and Juliana always discussed, travel and family, and selfishly Mitch envied her.

The entrée and mains came and went, as had a second bottle of wine. Dessert was ordered but agreed to be shared. Time was flying. 

As the waiter delivered dessert Mitchell asked some more personal questions.

“Christina seems a lovely girl, and so beautiful. If you don’t mind me asking, what caused her to be in a wheelchair?” 

Sarah was never offended by the question. She’d been asked it many times and explained the circumstances behind Christina’s affliction, and in a small way, her own situation.

Christina came into the world a healthy, smiling child bringing love and happiness to Sarah and Alessandro. The perfect addition to their beautiful life started on the other side of the world. In hindsight, she bonded the family and her early years where definitely the happiest for everyone. As an intelligent and gifted child, Christina was ecstatic starting school in 2006. Seemingly growing overnight, exposed to other children and the opportunities school life provided. She became a prolific reader, a consummate bookworm and took any opportunity to bury herself within the pages. 

Sarah by then started working at How’s Your Day Bean? to supplement the meagre wages Alessandro drew from a procession of low paying jobs. Their flexibility was limited, but Sarah took any shift available and Alessandro did everything possible to maximise his working hours. They needed the money. By Christina’s second year of school she’d learnt to work around her parents’ irregular hours.

Every day after school she joined the procession of children crossing the busy road to wait in the car park for her dad. That made the daily pickup much easier for Alessandro. It sounded silly, but it allowed twenty minutes longer at work, and over a month, made the world of difference.

Sarah and Mitch finished their dessert and coffee arrived shortly after. She continued her tale, recounting a day in September that would change her life forever.

Allesandro, under enormous pressure, worked overtime that day making him late for the school pickup. Of course, Christina didn’t know that, and made her way as usual through the school gates toward the pedestrian crossing to meet her father. Her nose as always buried deep into a book.

No one saw or really knows what happened next. 

Christina slowed to finish a page while the other children crossed the road safely. Realising she was behind, Christina crossed the road on her own. From out of nowhere a car driving well over the speed limit passed through the crossing just as Christina stepped onto the zebra white paint. The driver braked but it was too late. In a blur she was struck by the vehicle and spun uncontrollably to the ground. Her schoolbag and book landed on the bonnet while Christina was dragged under the car’s front wheels. The seven-year olds’ underdeveloped legs were no match for a car moving at such speed. 

An ambulance rushed Christina and Alessandro to the hospital where Sarah met them after being phoned by the school principal. They waited for hours anxious of any news. Christina survived the ordeal but lost the use of her legs, crushed under the weight of the car and beyond reconstruction. Alessandro had begun to unfairly blame himself for the accident.

After she’d finished Sarah’s eyes instinctively welled and Mitchell saw her pain. Time heals all wounds, but not entirely it would seem. Since that day Christina accepted her affliction with a youthful exuberance and remained stoic when dealing with any situation. But Sarah regretted everything hence. 

She often wondered what would have happened if she’d never accepted her doorstep proposal twelve years before. Mitchell sensed blame, and in some way understood Sarah carrying that burden. He didn’t have children but on occasion accused himself of things he knew shouldn’t have happened. If only he had that time again.

“That was the death of our marriage. Alessandro struggled terribly with the accident. It’s sad really, because if he knew Christina now, he would be so proud of her.” It appeared Alessandro left them as quickly as he’d proposed and the two ladies had been on their own ever since.

Mitchell hadn’t expected the story nor the sincerity of its’ telling. He offered his condolences, quite lamely in comparison before suggesting they make their leave. He settled the bill and escorted Sarah home to an invited, and accepted nightcap.

Rosemary and Christina were asleep by the time they settled on the couch. When Mitchell asked Sarah to dinner he didn’t expect the night to turn out like it did, but with the bizarre turn of events he sympathised with what she’d been through. He hoped in some small way he could make a difference and be a friend she had recently lacked. Sarah concluded her story with a surprising addition.

“You know Mitch, when I walked into the hospital ward and saw my baby girl sedated, supported by medicine and fighting for life, I just couldn’t take it. I wanted to walk away. Not turn my back on her, but I struggled facing the truth…I wanted to stop in my tracks, slowly walk back the way I came, and enter another world.”

Mitchell lightened the mood asking if Sarah was rostered on the morning shift. She was, and he realised perhaps it was time to say good night. As they stood in the front doorway Mitch placed his hand on Sarah’s waist. He kissed her gently on the lips and thanked her for a lovely evening. He then positioned his other to mirror the first, and assured her,

“Sarah, everything will be OK, I promise you.”

Having no idea why he said it, nor if it would help, Mitch felt it was the right thing to say and hoped the words were received as more than just rhetoric. Sarah’s smile returned and Mitchell turned to his car. Resting her head on the doorframe, she watched him drive away. the weight of her world briefly removed.

At home Mitchell joined Peanut on the back porch and poured himself a whiskey to reflect on the night. On his entire week. So much had happened, and significantly, so inexplicably. He looked down at Peanut snoozing in the balmy night recalling her disappearance that afternoon. It was odd, she had absolutely no street sense and tonight he’d learnt neither did Christina. The whiskey warmed his stomach. 

Another drink ensued but only from words he just couldn’t shake. Sarah said something with more meaning than she intended...

‘I just wanted to walk out of the room, reverse my steps, and enter another world’….

Mitch fell into bed pondering those words

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