It's Complicated (Bigelow Bay Book 2)

by Jakki Frances

  “I can’t believe such a small town even has the need for a shelter like this” she stated amazed.

  “You’d be surprised, people can fall on hard times very easily. Most families are only a paycheck or two from crisis; so illness, losing a job or in some cases leaving an abusive relationship can tip them over the edge. This place gives families somewhere to live while they find their feet financially and emotionally.”

  Turning away from Anita, Helene swallowed the lump in her throat as she took in the bright cheery room and the variety of people coming and doing. “I guess you never really know when something’s going to happen to pull the rug out from under you, do you? So Greg helps out with the kids then? Trips to the aquarium and such?” She could see the happy smiling Greg from the hospital being a hit with everyone.

  Anita laughed heartily and gestured to a set of double doors to the side of the room.

  “Greg is not exactly child-friendly” she laughed. “I mean don’t get me wrong he has plenty of time for them and is here at least a few times a month but he’s not really a buddy type for the kids. This is Greg’s arena……”

  Throwing open the doors Anita held back as Helene stepped into the room, a large area full of bookcases, desks, computer stations and comfy beanbags in reading corners.

  “Greg came to our very first open day and volunteered immediately. Though he’s not really a people person his main concern was that the children and the parents too if they chose, had a place to study and learn. At first, I thought he must be a teacher or something, I was surprised when I found out he was a policeman. He helps out with anything we need, including aquarium excursions, but his main focus is the learning centre. He always says that the families here have it hard enough without the kids falling behind at school. I guess in his job he would see where that path can lead.”

  “So he helps out here with homework and stuff?” Helene smiled at the mental picture.

  “A bit, he’s passionate about the kids doing their work and having whatever they need to keep up at school. I mean he literally built this space; he just delivered a few more desks this week and the small bookcase in the corner. We’ve never had cheap flat-pack furniture here; Greg made every stick of furniture in here. Plus he does basic maintenance around the building at times, he’s quite handy with tools.”

  Taking in the room with new eyes Helene’s mouth dropped as she recognised the top quality of the solid wood desks and bookcases. Bookcases that appeared somewhat bare to her eye. A few teenagers worked quietly on computers while a young boy taunted his friends as they sat in a corner, his voice carrying across the room.

  “Haha! I don’t have to do the book report. I can’t! My bag’s at the aquarium so school will have to give me more time.” He sniggered and teased his friends who were all trying to read or write their own reports.

  Anita’s brow creased slightly but her knowing, smug smile told Helene this was Joey of the missing backpack.

  “Joey, good news,” called Anita cheerily gaining the attention of the group of boys. “Your bag has been returned and it on my desk, so you’ll be able to get on with that report. If you start now you might be done in time to catch the end of tonight’s movie but only if you knuckle down.” The groan and rolled eyes as Joey dragged his feet towards the office made Helene, Anita and Joey’s friends all laugh at both his dramatics and the fact he was unable to avoid his homework.

  “Not even here and Greg still manages to make sure the kids get their studies done, he’s better than a nagging parent any day.” Laughed a middle-aged man searching job vacancies on a computer.

  Following Joey back to the office Anita handed him the pack and sent him on his way. Turning she regarded Helene with interest.

  “I’ve never seen you around town before, have you recently moved here? The hospital employs so many people there are often new faces around.”

  Helene shook her head, how to explain this? “I’m just passing through, sort of. I live and work out of my camper van. I find somewhere I like the look of and stay until I get restless and move on again. I came to Bigelow Bay a few weeks ago and liked it so I’ve stayed put, I suppose I’ll move on again when I get bored……or by winter – you don’t want to be in a camper in the snow trust me.”

  Now it was Anita’s jaw that dropped, stunned as she processed Helene’s explanation. Helene was effectively homeless and yet voluntarily and happily so.

  “Anyway, thanks so much for showing me around.” Helene saw it was time to go, she’d seen this reaction to her living situation before and knew it was only a matter of time before the reasons it was wrong were voiced. “I think it’s great what you’ve done here and obviously there is a need that most people don’t even see. I’d like to help you and Greg and the families out a bit. I can’t build and trust me I’m really not good with children, but I did notice the bookshelves in the learning centre are a bit bare. I have some contacts in publishing and I’d like to help fill them if you don’t mind? If you let me know what sort of books you’d like, anything fiction, texts, kids, teen, adults, whatever; I’d like to help Greg and the families here.”

  Anita pulled Helene into a tight bear hug, squeezing hard before releasing her.

  “Greg and the families, of course, would be so thrilled with any books you’d care to find. Anything is better than nothing. Anything anyone is willing to do to help us here is always more than welcome.”

  Anita’s encouraging smile told Helene that her idea of ‘anything’ and Anita’s would be very different.

  # # # # #

  Greg swallowed the pain meds left by his nurse and relaxed back into his bed. The book open on his lap just couldn’t hold his interest today, his thoughts drifted to the smiling curvy woman who wanted to spend her days ‘nursing’ his knee back into action. Helene would surely have returned the backpack to the shelter by now, a thought that left Greg wondering what her thoughts of the place would be. It was the first time he’d shared this part of his life with anyone, Frank was aware that he built furniture as a hobby but Greg had never explained what became of his creations. This woman, a complete stranger now knew something he’d never shared before…..a strange and unsettling idea. His hands absently brushed at the sheets on either side of him, smoothing creases and removing lint an unconscious calming action.

  What was is about Helene? He knew nothing about her, not even her full name. Just that she lived and worked in a multi-coloured camper and had tripped him by lying on the filthy floor of an aquarium. Why was he letting her into his life, his space? Would she mess up his house? Would she expect him to be friends? More? Or would she just chauffeur him to his appointments and then make herself scarce? Would she want to talk about his life? Huffing in frustration he shifted uneasily, this was why he avoided people, there was so much that was expected when you let someone into your space even just temporarily. She’d want to talk, about him, about her, about growing up and family and friends and that was fine to an extent. I mean he was absolutely all for learning more about her, after all, he wasn’t going to allow a total stranger in his space. But he didn’t intend to discuss his childhood, his family, his past. That was private and something he never shared. With any luck, he’d be back on his feet in short order and she’d continue on with her life.

  CHAPTER 9

  Balancing on one leg and crutches Greg looked down at his sneakered foot, the door to his house stood open before him. Ok so maybe this whole injured leg thing was going to be a bit harder than he had anticipated; problem number one – how to take off his shoe while only having one leg to stand on? Frozen, his gaze went from his foot to the doorway to the shoe shelf beside him and back to his foot. Lifting a crutch he tried using the end to push the heel of his shoe off as he balanced on the toe but the more he tried to wedge the tip of the crutch behind his foot the more he realised it wasn’t going to work.

  “Greg? Is everything ok?” Helene’s soft voice behind him ceased his efforts. Standing on the step holdin
g his bag in one hand and her computer satchel in the other Helene was confused, why didn’t Greg just go inside?

  A frown creased his face as he looked again at his foot and suddenly an idea sparked in Helene’s mind. Looking from Greg to the doorway and the shelf with shoes lined neatly alongside Helene put the bags down and fell to her knees, making short work of his shoelaces, slipping his sneaker off and placing it in line with the others. Standing with a smile Helene stepped back and retrieved their bags while Greg’s cheeks coloured and a slightly relieved grimace tugged his mouth.

  Hopping his way through the house balanced on his crutches Greg fought the rising discomfort; she was here because she wanted to help him out, hell she practically invited herself – sort of. But at the same time the knowledge that she was in his house, the private space he never shared, gave him a warm feeling which almost felt like happiness. This odd idea would need further thought but not now. Now he had to decide did he show her around, get comfortable and wait for her to leave, make small talk conversation? None of these options seemed appropriate. Turning as Helene followed him into the large open plan kitchen/family room his indecision evaporated as she smiled and began unloading a grocery bag that seemed to have appeared out of no-where.

  “So yesterday I took the liberty of picking up some basic groceries. I know you have food in the house since you’ve only been out of action a few days but I figured for the next few days your ability to cook on one leg would probably be limited. Be warned, I’m not exactly a MasterChef, I’m more basic comfort food than fancy-schmancy gourmet.”

  Greg nodded silently. Hopping to the island bench he winced as he perched on a barstool to watch her unload fresh veg, a paper-wrapped meat parcel and a white bakery box. Helene’s chatter ceased long enough for her to place a pain pill and glass of water in front of him before she continued meal talk.

  “So I’m going to make us both a late lunch/early dinner since we’ve missed lunch and I’m sure you’re hungry and tired and I know you’re in pain. If you point out where I’ll find plates, pans and knives then I’ll let you know when it’s ready. You can keep me company or relax or whatever you want, it’s your house after all.” She laughed cheerily as she bustled around prepping a salad.

  “Umm how do you know I’m not allergic or something?” Stupid! Greg couldn’t believe that was the first thing he’d said, he had so many other things in his mind but that’s what had come out when he’d opened his mouth! What the hell!

  “Well I’m very clever and I pay attention.” Helene chuckled. “I know steak is your favourite meal, and while mine won’t be the same as Frank’s famous steak it’s not too bad if I do say so myself. Plus I figure you’ve just watched me unpack the salad stuff and if there was something here you couldn’t eat you’d say so. And I got you carrot cake cupcakes for dessert since you seemed to enjoy the other carrot cakes I gave you and your partner. I even had them especially decorated for you.” Helene threw open the bakery box with a flourish revealing a dozen cupcakes all decorated with rabbits whose leg was bent sideways.

  Greg sat a moment, stunned that she’d gathered so much information about him in such a short time. He didn’t even know when they’d talked about Frank’s steak. The warm feeling in his stomach grew; it must be the meds kicking in.

  “Cupcake, you’re the best.” He grinned relaxing into the idea of having some Helene style help. # # # # #

  “That was great, thank you for making me lunch cupcake.” Greg leaned back into the chair as Helene gently situated his braced leg on the cushioned stool. A warm, tired fuzziness swept over him as he relaxed, Helene smiled handing him a coffee as she tucked her feet under herself on the couch opposite.

  “So……look I don’t want you to feel like you need to stay here or help me out. I mean, falling over and hurting the leg was just something that happened. You don’t need to hang out because you feel guilty or anything, I can manage ok myself.” Despite his words Greg really did hope she hung around a while, it might be nice to have someone around to talk to while he was off work.

  Helene laughed, her amused gaze meeting his over her raised coffee mug. “Greg, you need help and I have time. It just makes sense really; how about if either of us gets on each other’s nerves we just say so and that’s that? Easy, no muss no fuss!”

  Greg exhaled in relief, he liked no muss no fuss……especially the no fuss. Ok, so he could hang out a bit and then they’d go their separate ways when his leg was up to scratch. He didn’t really have any friends other than Frank, it might be nice to have some company that didn’t want anything more than superficial friendship.

  “It’s a deal!” Helene shook his outstretched hand in agreement. “So why exactly do you have time? I mean, how is it you travel around living in a camper? That’s not exactly the conventional lifestyle for a woman around these parts.”

  Helene laughed to herself as she sat back. “Sorry, I just assume people know. I mean most people I meet and talk to already know who I am and all about me, so I forget that the general public doesn’t necessarily know me……. Hi, I’m Helen Doe; romance author extraordinaire!”

  “Helene Doe? Hmmm, too fancy to be a Jane?” Greg quipped with a smile.

  Helene’s paused a moment mid-sip and then returned to her coffee. “Something like that.” She replied. “Do I seem more like a ‘Jane’ to you?”

  “You’re definitely not a plain Jane kind of woman” Greg chuckled. “How does a romance writer extraordinaire manage to live and work from an RV? I mean you’re not really the picture that comes to mind when you think romance writer. You’re not some white-haired granny writing bodice rippers with Fabio on the cover from her spare bedroom with a dozen cats roaming her house.”

  Helene’s laugh lit her eyes at his description.

  “No I’m definitely NOT that, but then most romance authors aren’t you know. But I am legit, see?” She passed him a paperback from her bag and there she was – a small photo on the back cover and Helene Doe in large clear font across the front. “I had this in my bag to give the lady at the aquarium…….it’s the reason she let me have free reign of the tank after you guys left. She’s a fan and recognised me; made me a deal – my latest book for after-hours access until she was ready to leave. Sorry about that!” Helene grimaced as her eyes fell to his leg.

  Greg waved away her apology. “So that actually happens? I mean people recognise you from your books? WOW! I mean movie stars I get, Kardashian’s tragically I get, but I wouldn’t have thought authors were that recognisable.”

  Blushing Helene tucked the book under her knees, “It happens more than you’d think. Book fans are just as dedicated if not more than movie fans. I mean, I have readers who buy my latest book immediately on release day. If I attend conventions I worry no one will come to my table and readers worry I’ll be so inundated I won’t get a chance to talk to them; it’s hard to explain. Readers are a dedicated bunch and I love that. It’s why I forgot to introduce myself, everyone I have conversations and contact with already knows who I am and everything about me. Google tells them everything there is to know.”

  Scooping up their mugs, Helene returned to the kitchen and began clearing the lunch dishes as Greg stretched, sinking further into the cushions. The day had caught up with him quickly once his stomach was filled and despite the appeal of continued conversation fatigue was overtaking him fast. But not so fast that he couldn’t appreciate the heart-shaped butt in tight jeans that was bent over, loading the dishwasher.

  # # # # #

  Helene smiled to herself, it was kind of refreshing to talk to someone who didn’t automatically know everything there was to know about her. She quite liked having a little mystery about her and spending time with someone who didn’t just want to discuss her books. Getting to know someone tit for tat like a normal person was appealing. Greg seemed like a man of few words but he certainly seemed like a nice guy, he certainly didn’t seem to hold a grudge about tripping over her.

 
CHAPTER 10

  As she let herself in with the key Greg had given to her the night before; Helene was stunned to be greeted by the sight of Greg, in a t-shirt and low riding sweat pants, balanced precariously on his crutches………working a lint roller over the couch cushions. Dropping her bag in surprise she rushed forward as Greg, startled by her entrance, teetered dangerously on his good leg as his crutches clattered to the floor.

  “What on earth are you up to?” Helene ducked under a flailing arm and steadied Greg as he attempted to manoeuvre onto the couch. “I’m supposed to be here helping you and I walk in to find you attempting housework on one leg?”

  Greg’s face heated as he flopped sideways onto the cushions. Damn! He’d been caught!

  The first thing on his mind when he woke was the fact that he hadn’t rolled the couch, and that thought had continued to pick and pick at him until he could take no more. The previous night he’d retired early with Frank’s assistance, he and Kasey had dropped by to check on him after work and while the ladies talked books while Frank listened in, Greg’s mind had drifted helped along by the medications. Noticing his disinterest and drooping eyelids, Frank had hauled him bodily onto his bed; causing Greg to bypass his usual nightly routine of rolling the furniture and locking up. When the throbbing in his leg and the early morning light had woken his body, his brain had greeted him with the incessant reminder that he’d not locked up or cleaned before retiring the night before. After downing some pain meds the nagging had only become louder as his mind focussed less on his knee. After discovering his friends had locked the house up tight when leaving, Greg struggled to balance on his crutches as he ran the lint roller over the cushions before Helene arrived for the day. The mild panic at the thought of her thinking him strange was only partially soothed by the calmness created by the routine activities.

  Helene noted the flushed cheeks and the way Greg’s eyes avoided hers and internally shrugged, he was obviously embarrassed and she wasn’t about to call him on it.