DISCLAIMER: SeaChange and all its characters are owned by Deb Cox and Andrew Knight. I'm not making any money from the writing of this story, only entertaining the few people who wish to read.
I decided to write this after hearing about someone's New Year's Eve experience at Barwon Heads (his family spends the summer holidays in the Caravan Park!). Also because I spent New Year on the bay which was great fun!
This is (obviously) set on New Year's eve 2000. Most of the following is written in Max and Laura's thoughts. I might throw in a few speaking passages, but you'll be able to justify who it is and all the rest (I hope).
New Year @ Pearl Bay
By Casey
5:00pm. Sunday December 31st, 2000.
In the hype of the new Millennium approaching, and in the hype of a party coordinator-like mood, Laura planned to have the entire town over for New Year's eve. I was, and still am, bewildered as to why she'd even want to have the town in our home. But I learnt early on to keep my mouth shut and just to go with the flow. After I'd told Laura what I'd thought, I had been locked out of the house for 2 days. So now I don't say anything or make any comments that I think would offend her. I didn't even open my mouth when she suggested painting the house orange. I don't care to know where that thought occurred.
So now, with only 7 hours of the 20th century left, I am left waiting for the stampede of people who 'I am friends with' (another one of Laura's comebacks) to arrive and destroy our home. Although Laura insists that the marquee outside will be used for the entertaining and the kitchen and bathroom will be the only rooms that are used in the house. But something tells me that won't be the case. Knowing Laura, a few people in the house having a coffee will turn into the town having yard glass competitions on the dining table. But what can I do about it? My comments are not welcome anymore. Although I know it's just the hormones speaking, I can't help but feel some of the anger is honestly directed at me.
I watch Laura approach me, dressed in a flowing crimson gown. She looks angelic; her hair pinned up with stray curls framing her face. My heart flutters. I know I love her. I always have and I always will. She begins poking at my tie, telling me that it's not straight. She scolds me for being so relaxed when our guests would be arriving in half an hour. I can only roll my eyes at her perfectionist ways. Things have changed in the past 6 months. I can thank Warwick Munro for igniting the true desire that I had to belong to Laura. All the times I'd lied to myself about not being in love, what a fool I had been. There is nothing you cannot love about the woman standing in front of me. That is the main reason I am going to hopefully succeed in what I plan to attempt tonight. To seal the deal. But firstly, I'll have to steal Laura away from her party for a few moments. When, I do not know, but it must be tonight, in the 20th century.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
6:00pm. Sunday December 31st, 2000.
My guests appear to be having a great time celebrating the remaining 6 hours of the 20th century. I'm growing tired of the clucky baby talks, and I am starting to wonder whether Max was right about this party. What was I thinking? How can I host a party for an entire township when I couldn't even organise my children for school every morning? No, things have changed. I can host a party now. I have no worries at the moment, but ask me the same question this time next year and there will certainly be a different answer. I watch my neighbours mingle with each other, holding idle conversations about who did what at where. Gossiping. I remember the controversy that had involved me during the transition from Warwick to Max. Not to mention the further uproar when the entire town learned of my pregnancy.
That was one day that I will never forget. My very temperamental mood swings had put Max out of the house for a couple of days. I don't even remember what it was that we were discussing. I stayed inside the house for the whole two days that Max was unwelcome, until I eventually realised my pitiless mistake and ran all the way to his shack. I staggered up the stairs, exhausted and in tears. The moment I opened the door I felt like digging a hole in the ground and disappearing forever. My closest friends in the town were all inside Max's shack, screaming their congratulations at me. That was an extremely embarrassing day. But they helped bring reality to the fact that Max and I were going to have a baby together.
The thought of parenthood leads me to look for the father to be. I watch Max from afar, enjoying this time to spy on him. He stands amongst Angus, Kevin and Bob; the four of them holding an obviously in-deep conversation. The curiosity is eating away at me, and I am tempted to waltz on over and join the discussion. But before I even have a chance to take one step towards them, I am stopped by a rather tipsy Heather Jelly. I glance at my watch. It's 6:32pm. Only one hour into the evening and she's practically past it. Anyone would think she was related to Griff. But I should be thankful that she had the decency to arrive sober.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
7:00pm. Sunday December 31st, 2000.
A smile escapes my lips as I watch the group clucking over Laura. Heather, who appears to be over her limit, is busy spurting numerous tales of parenthood from her fast-moving mouth. Laura is not amused by all the fussing, even I can tell from my distance across the room. I debate whether or not to rescue her from drowning in the sea of broody women, but decide against the mission when I see an elated grin spread across Laura's face. She is at home with these women; they accept her as one of their own, even if she does have a rather extravagant temper and can be quite strange at times. But then again, who isn't strange? I look around the room. There is nothing but strange mingling underneath this roof.
I run my hand over the velour box in my pocket, reassuring myself of the task ahead. I will succeed, there is nothing stopping me now. There is only one fear I have inside me. What if Laura rejected my request? I tell myself that there is no way she will say no. She couldn't say no, not after our past 6 months together. Not when we make love countless times in one day, and she especially couldn't say no when she's having my child. My heart jumps. I am ecstatic about becoming a father. There is nothing more fulfilling in life. I will never forget that day on the pier. I will never forget that feeling of true success when Laura told me she was pregnant. The future is so unknown and I love it. I can sit for hours on end, just imagining what it will be like to have a son or daughter to teach how to swim, how to write, how to live.
Although it would be a lie to say that I am not scared. There has never been a moment in my life where I have felt such fear yet such excitement over an event. I keep telling myself that everything will be fine, that I will make a good parent. But there is that lingering fear that I will make a mistake. I do not want to be the father who doesn't have time to kick a football with his son, or doesn't slow down and have a tea party with his daughter. Why should I worry about slowing down? I know there is only one person who needs to slow down, and that is Laura. Although without a job she has been quite relaxed, but who knows how much longer she will survive the boredom. Laura is one of those people who have to be doing something. Whether it is cleaning a house (which she does three times daily), or defending someone in court, Laura will forever be a rush about person.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
8:00pm. Sunday December 31st, 2000.
I've only been standing for 2 and a half hours, yet I feel as though its 12 and a half hours. My feet are killing me and I know it's these shoes. Well I'm convincing myself it's the shoes that are causing my feet to ache. I do not want to give in to the fact that soon I will not be able to wear half of my shoes because my ankles will be that fat. But I know I'll be able to score many foot massages from Max with my 'oh poor me' whine. It worked extremely well on Jack, so why not try it on Max? But he has a habit of being able to read me well, which does get aggravating. Sometimes I wish that we weren't as in touch with each other as we are, but I often realise its what is making our relationship work.
My eyes search for my eldest daughter, who I know will be in the company of Craig Jelly, which doesn't bother me. He is anything but his father (thankfully), and Miranda does enjoy his friendship. I don't know if Miranda realises that I know of her recent upgrade in relationships with Craig, but nevertheless I'm happy for her. She probably won't get the chance to see Craig for some time after she leaves for university in a month or so, and I know it will frustrate her. But I know that Miranda is doing the right thing. I don't want to see her make the same choices that I made. In fact I know she won't make the same choices as me, for she has told me on numerous occasions how much of a stuff up I am (although I wonder how much of it is truthful and how much is an angered temper).
Max has changed Miranda a great deal. He has taught her so much about journalism, and has encouraged her to take up a career in the field. I know she is passionate about journalism, which is good. Passion for your job is always extremely important. As for Rupert, well I can see that a bit of work is needed in his relationship with Max. I can understand that Rupe may be finding it difficult to accept that Max is the man around the house; after all there wasn't much of a live-in male influence in Rupert's life for some time after we departed the city. But my faith is restored when I see the pair now chatting away. I know Max will make a fantastic father. He emits love and care whenever he is around either Miranda or Rupert. Max won't tiptoe around the topic; he will jump straight in and do the best he can possibly do.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
9:00pm. Sunday December 31st, 2000.
Three hours left. My time is running out. I know that if I don't succeed in my mission I shall be devastated. I have two options. Steal Laura away now, or wait till I think the time is right. My mind tells me to wait. There is one time that I'm waiting for, and I know that things will be perfect if I can wait until then. I watch Laura for a while, curious to know how she is. She looks physically tired, but I wonder how much that has to do with her not slowing down and stepping back for a moment. I think that her petit frame isn't going to cope too well with this pregnancy, especially when she won't slow down. I know Laura's been through the whole parenting scene before, but she was much younger then and I wonder if age has really caught up with her, even if she does worry about it so often.
I don't think age is ever going to beat me. Laura tells me that I'll still be swimming every morning until I'm 85. Dare I even envision what that will be like, but it's probably true. I love swimming. I love to streamline through the water, setting a goal and reaching it, knowing that it was all you, and you alone. I can think when I'm in the water; there is no one to interfere with my train of thought and it's great. I feel fantastic after a morning swim, refreshed and ready to fight the day's wars with full strength and confidence. I can hear the waves crashing against the shore, beckoning me to dive under the water and become a part of the ocean. I feel incredibly relaxed, listening to the rhythmic sound of waves.
I wanted to find Laura and mention something to her, but she was nowhere to be seen. I imagine she's in the house, so I retreat to the haven known as my home. I step through the front door, and noted the silence. I gasped when I saw the kitchen. It was filthy to say the least. I knew that Laura would die if she saw her kitchen in such a state. I wondered how it had ended up that way. Perhaps someone had gone a bit rampant in searching for alcohol. I knew that was the least of my worries though. For now I just had to keep Laura away from the disaster area. Only something told me I was too late.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
10:00pm. Sunday December 31st, 2000.
I was so angry with myself. Why hadn't I just accepted Max's statements and ditched the idea of this stupid party in the first place? Everything was going wrong, and I couldn't tell my guests to leave on the whim that I had to clean up the mess they'd caused me to make. I felt hopelessly useless. For some reason my emotions caught up with me at the most inappropriate of times. I feel like crying because I feel lost, yet I feel like screaming because I'm so angry with myself. Things never can be straightforward and simple when you're pregnant. For some reason everything seems always ten times worse than it actually is.
The tears win me over and I begin sobbing. I can feel the mascara running down my cheeks in big, black streaks, and I wipe them away angrily. I look at myself in the mirror. The wrinkles that crease my face, lines of age and time that I do not wish to admit exist. The lines that take over my forehead whenever I'm worried or stressed. I wish they would all go away. I wish I were young again. But I know nothing will ever bring back my youth. I try splashing water over my face to take away the red in my eyes, but nothing works, which just upsets me even more. I am once again reminded how everything is going wrong. I sink to the bathroom floor, a sobbing wreck.
Footsteps halt my quiet sobbing. I try to stand, but my legs are refusing to cooperate with my brain. Exhaustion has won again, not to mention the awkwardness. I may be only 4 months pregnant, but quite honestly, I feel like a whale already. Once again everything stresses me at the one inappropriate time. I feel a big hand touch my shoulder, and a big body clad in a blue shirt and cream pants sits beside me. Max is genuinely concerned, and just seeing his face makes me feel as though there is hope. He awaits my splurge of worries, and as I churn off every tiny detail, he listens with care. Max is good at listening. When he wants to, that is.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
11:00pm. Sunday December 31st, 2000.
I hate seeing Laura distressed. She looks dreadfully upset, and its not often that I see tears. Usually mood swings turn Laura into a screaming angry wit…err…person. She tells me all her troubles, and I listen, knowing if I don't show concern that I will be booted out of our home for the dawn of the new Millennium. I am concerned though, but Laura's troubles are so amusing that I have to bite my tongue to stop myself from laughing. I mean seeing a dip that has been mixed with other dips is hardly anything to fret about. No one would honestly care (or notice) that they're eating about 5 dips in the one scoop. I reassure Laura that no one will care, and I add that it was them who did it in the first place.
Now I wish I hadn't suggested cleaning up the kitchen. It will take us at least an hour, and I know that I won't get out of the duty very easily. I scrape remains of mashed cheese and salami into the bin, and place the plate into the dishwasher. Laura has decided to go for the full clean up outfit, now scrubbing away at the table with disinfectant and a sponge. I watch her scrub vigorously at the table, one stain refusing to come out. Stray strands of hair shake as she cleans the table, a look of sheer determination and willpower covering her face. I decide to leave the plates and plan something better for us to do.
It's about time that I took my darling for a dance. We were probably the only people who were still coherent, and although Laura would love to be able to drink a glass of champagne without throwing it up two minutes later, I know she wouldn't. We both came to an agreement (after an argument) that both of us would not drink throughout the pregnancy. I wonder what I was thinking at the time. I reckon it must have been the 'if you want to sleep under this roof tonight…' threat. That's always a drastic threat, and Laura knows it works well on me. I have to grin at the thought of our arguments. They're quite often amusing to me, yet I know if I don't keep a stern face, Laura will disown me for an unpredictable length of time.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
11:30pm. Sunday December 31st, 2000.
Max's loving arms encircle my waist, and his body is close to mine. I love dancing with him, even if he isn't quite the world's greatest dancer. He towers over me, at least 1 foot taller, but I love it. I snuggle into his chest, feeling safe, protected. We've been dancing this way for what seems like eternity, but I think it's only been about 20 minutes. I'm glad that I have Max's undivided attention, mainly because my guests are becoming rather rowdy. I think that Max is making sure that I stay away from them for some reason that completely escapes me. He worries too much about me. I am capable of taking care of our child and myself. But for now I'm just content being in Max's arms, safe and protected.
I watch Miranda dance with Craig, and both seem to be enjoying themselves. I can't help but notice what a cute couple they make, and tell Max of my thoughts. He laughs slightly, and tells me that is exactly what he was thinking. Great minds think alike. Max begins talking to me in a hushed voice, though I hardly see the need as nearly everyone is beyond firstly listening to anyone, and secondly remembering whatever it is we say. Max begins discussing Miranda leaving for university. She will be with us for only another month or so, and I know that I'll miss her. I know she'll miss Max, and Rupert (to some degree), and Craig, and not to mention the whole town, but I wonder if she will miss me.
Rupert and Trev are visible in the corner of my eye. Can I see them smuggling bottles of beer? Max takes a firmer grip on my arms, and tells me to leave it. I remain tense, but I know that they're growing up. I have to remind myself that Rupert isn't a baby anymore. He'll be leaving me soon enough too. I watch as the boys sneak away, believing that their little scheme has gone unnoticed. I grin, and remember when it was me that was doing those sorts of things. Max asks me whether I sneaked away with the alcohol at any parties. I laughed at him and told him I'd never have done such a thing. I can't let down my Miss Perfect reputation, can I? I ask Max the same question, and he answers me with a sly 'of course'. Did I even need to ponder the idea?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
11:45pm. Sunday December 31st, 2000.
I knew that I had to make my move if I was going to carry through the decision. It was now or never. So, grabbing Laura's hand, I lead her away from the house. My destination is fixed in my mind, and I know that I'll have to hurry if I want to make it there before midnight. I feel the box in my pocket, and it surges me along. Laura is tired, I know that. I slow down for her, being careful in observing her. She asks me where we're going, but I don't answer. I can't speak to her. Not yet, anyway. No more words until they're the ones that I've been thinking about for a long time.
Fears burden me. They threaten to slow me down, but I ignore their extra weight. The fear of rejection is the strongest of them all. Uncertainty of the future, of my career. Life ahead of us, together as one with a family. I knew that I wanted to have more children, I wasn't going to stop after one. Growing old with Laura, residing in our house on the seashore, being visited by our grandchildren on school holidays. Living in Pearl Bay until the day I die. I felt like I was on a rollercoaster, the unpredictability, and the constant up and down style of the ride. It was life. Life is a rollercoaster that only the adventurous choose to ride.
I can see my destination now, lit by the bright moonlight. The pier is empty, as all of Pearl Bay is at our house, probably trashing the place. I don't care. If it takes me three weeks to clean up the disaster they leave behind, it won't bother me. As long as I get the response I'm hoping for in the next five minutes. Oh God. Five minutes left of the 20th century. I have to hurry. Laura is exhausted now, and I feel guilty for making her rush after me. But this is it. I'm in the perfect place, at the perfect time, with the most beautiful person in the entire world. We are alone, the only sound being the soft rippling of the waves on the sandy shore. I grasp the box in my hand, and take a deep breath, knowing that now is the moment of truth. The moment that will make or break me.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
11:59pm. Sunday December 31st, 2000.
"Laura, will you marry me?"
"Max, I don't know what to say"
"Say yes"
"Well what else am I going to say?!"
"I don't know. I thought you might say no"
"Do you honestly think I'd turn you down?"
"I'd hope not. So is it a yes?"
"Of course"
I don't know how to feel. I am ecstatic, scared, nervous, delighted and giddy all at the same time. To know that Max loves me, and he wants to commit in such a way exhilarates me. I look down at the ring on my finger. It’s the symbol of bonding and commitment that means so much to so many people. I am scared, yet happy. I know that to have this moment, here, on the pier of memories, I will sacrifice all. If I have to step into every day uncertain of what lies ahead, I'll do it, knowing that Max will be by my side. I guess if this is the night of confessions then there are some things that Max does have the right to know about. I take a deep breath, knowing that this news will probably shock yet delight him at the same time.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
12:00am. Monday January 1st, 2001.
"Max, there's something I need to tell you"
"And what would that be, Laura?"
"Well, you know how you missed the second ultrasound"
"Yes…"
"There was something else that Dr Baker noticed"
"Is there something wrong with the baby?"
"No there's nothing wrong with the baby. Either of them"
"I beg your pardon?"
"We're having twins"
I nearly fainted when Laura told me that we were going to have twins. Twice the trouble at the one time. But I was over the moon to know there was nothing wrong with our babies. Just hearing that word made me feel all mushy, and they're not even here yet. I don't want to even imagine how clucky I'll be once they're born. Laura looks truly happy. I don't know how she kept such a big secret so quiet. That ultrasound was over two weeks ago, how could she not have told me? But I'm glad she told me tonight. Well today. Two great events happened in two centuries, but were separated by mere minutes. I am now engaged to the woman I love who is carrying my twins.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The future is unknown, yet I step into it with full confidence in myself
I take pride in my life and my achievements, knowing all happened for a reason
My acquaintances are many, yet few will remain close by me for eternity
Being surrounded by the people whom I love is all that matters
I don't care for the money or expensive cars that come with a demanding job
Life may seem plain and sleepy in this quiet seaside town
Yet the people who inhibit it are my family and friends whom I love
And I know I can step into the new century with full support from them all
THE END