‘And yet you’ve never mentioned him?’
Phyllie shook her head. ‘He’s mine, why would I? I don’t want anyone else getting involved with him and ruining our friendship. Imagine if you did what you’ve done to many others – dated him for a few months then dumped him. That might be the last I’d ever see him.’
Nat couldn’t believe her grandmother was admitting she’d deliberately kept Leon’s existence a secret. ‘It’s highly unlikely he’d be interested in me to start with,’ Nat said. ‘But it’s a bit disappointing that you think I’m not good enough for him.’
‘I never said that.’
She couldn’t quite work out why Phyllie had such a twinkle in her eye.
‘I just said I didn’t want you breaking his heart, that’s all. Now, don’t you have work to do? You said you had to get a lot done for Anita tonight.’
Phyllie was right. There’s no way she’d get ahead today if she didn’t get back to the tables soon.
Her phone pinged with a text message from Pip as she climbed the stairs to her room.
Call me. There’s wedding stuff to organise and you seem to have disappeared. Is everything okay?
She sent Pip a quick message back saying she’d ring her the next day and then sat down at the computer. Weddings were the last thing she had time for right now.
It was close to midnight when Nat tried to enter one last tournament for the night, but a box flashed up on her screen saying she needed to deposit more funds into her account. That didn’t make any sense. She’d set up her account to link to her credit card. Even with her donations to Shared she couldn’t be out of funds.
She opened a new browser window and logged in to her internet banking. She stared at the screen in disbelief. There was no way her credit card statement could be right. Bile rose in her throat. It was maxed out. She started looking at the transactions. Playing the two-hundred-dollar tables, sometimes with two tables going at one time, could add up quite quickly. Of course, it only took one win every now and then to cover some of the losses.
She looked through the transactions, her stomach sinking as she realised what she’d done. How could she have been so stupid? Donating half of her winnings to Shared had been a noble idea, but she shouldn’t have assumed she would be winning more often than losing. There were days when she’d played more than twenty games and only won three. Three wins was nowhere near enough to cover the losses. Donating from the winning games on top of that put her further back. Why hadn’t she waited and worked out a percentage of profit to donate rather than rushing to fix the world and make herself feel good by donating after each win? She imagined what Hannah would say if she told her. Actually, she imagined that anyone would say the same thing. You are a complete moron, Nat.
Ten thousand dollars. An extra ten thousand added to the five she already had outstanding on her card. She’d blown through the entire credit card balance. She closed her eyes.
Rather than move into Phyllie’s to save money and hopefully find a new job, she’d dug herself into an even bigger hole than before.
Chapter Eleven
Amy’s eyes shone with delight as she picked up the last of her presents from the dining table; the one in gold wrap. Hannah had sensed Amy’s disappointment when she’d surveyed the neatly wrapped pile of gifts, her eyes searching the garden, just in case. Hannah knew what she was hoping for, but she also knew Amy didn’t really expect to receive a dog. She was glad to see her daughter still getting excited about her birthday, even though she believed she wasn’t getting the present she had so desperately hoped for.
Amy had risen early, waking both Hannah and Damien as she rushed down the stairs, feet deliberately pounding to ensure the entire house was woken. It was a birthday and Christmas tradition, and turning twelve wasn’t going to alter that. Hannah wondered if things would change when she became a teenager. Would they have to poke and prod her to wake up for the day?
Amy loved the books and clothes she’d unwrapped, particularly the antique copy of Little Women, but Hannah knew she’d be wondering what the special present was this year. Hannah always wrapped one item in gold paper. The one she thought Amy would like the best. It was usually a reflection of the most valuable present. Last year it had been an iPad, the first device they’d allowed her to have.
‘What is it?’ Amy shook the package, which gave nothing away. ‘I bet it’s jewellery or a watch. Am I right?’
Hannah was about to say no when Damien laughed. ‘You could call it that.’ He winked at Hannah. The studded collar could pass as jewellery, she guessed.
Amy slid her fingers under the wrapping, savouring the opening of the last present. She flipped open the paper revealing a collar and lead. A note was attached to the lead: Time to go shopping!
Amy looked up, her face flushed with pleasure. ‘For real? I’m allowed to get a dog?’
Hannah nodded. ‘After breakfast we’ll head down to the shelter in Burwood East. We checked yesterday, and they’ve got quite a few to choose from.’
‘Oh my God!’ Amy threw her arms around Hannah. ‘I can’t believe you’re letting me get a dog. I love you so much.’ She squeezed her before turning and throwing herself at Damien. ‘And you too. You must have talked her into it.’
‘No, in fact, you can thank . . .’
Hannah shook her head. She did not want Nat getting credit for this present. She wanted Amy to believe it was her and Damien’s doing, not a result of her losing a bet. And anyway, the bet was a bit extreme; she could still have said no if she’d chosen to yet she hadn’t. The more she’d thought about it the more she realised that Amy was growing up and they would have to allow her to become more independent. A dog in the house would also give Hannah some peace of mind if they were going to allow Amy to be home alone.
‘Can we go now?’
Hannah laughed and pulled Amy to her for another hug. ‘They don’t open until nine for adoptions. How about we get dressed and go out for breakfast first? I’ve booked a table for seven thirty at Franklin’s. It’s only a five-minute drive from the cafe to the shelter.’
Amy pulled away and was already running towards the stairs. ‘Hurry up,’ she called to her parents. ‘We’ve got a birthday to celebrate.’
Hannah and Damien shared a delighted smile as they got to their feet, ready to follow Amy up the stairs.
He put an arm around Hannah’s shoulders. ‘Looks like we got it right this year.’
She smiled. Amy’s excitement was contagious, and she had to admit, she loved birthdays. They reminded her of her mother, who’d made sure it was a day full of excitement and feeling loved. After her mother had passed, her father had done his best to carry on this tradition, which had made Hannah love him even more. It hadn’t been easy for him, but he’d known what her mum would have wanted him to do, and he’d done it. A small part in making Amy’s day extra special was carrying on this tradition of her mother’s.
Rather than have a party with her friends, Amy had chosen to only invite her best friend, Skye, over for the afternoon. Hannah had suggested they celebrate by inviting the family and Amy had readily agreed to this, knowing it would mean more presents. She’d requested that the celebration not be for dinner, but in the afternoon instead. For dinner she wanted to order pizza and for her and Skye to watch movies in the media room by themselves. Hannah had agreed, grateful that Amy’s requests made it the easiest birthday ever. Gone were the days of having fifteen screaming kids running around the house on sugar highs, with Damien trying to round them up and control them with party games.