by Kate Hewitt
“Okay.” James was quiet for a moment. “But nothing is changing, is it? It’s just dinner, after all.”
“I know.” Her cheeks warmed. Had she been presuming again? “I just meant…in general.”
“You mean if we dated.” He spoke so matter-of-factly that Laura almost laughed. There was a certain relief in him simply spelling it out. Why couldn’t she do the same? Why did she have to be so twitchy?
“Yes. Or something like that.”
“Okay, well I’ll keep that in mind.” His gaze turned both sleepy and significant as he kept his eyes on hers. “And you can keep in mind that if and when we do go on a date, your children won’t be present. Not that I don’t like them, because I do. But a family dinner is not a date. Trust me.”
Although his tone was perfectly pleasant, it still made something in Laura sizzle, as if he’d said something provocative. Seductive. She looked away as she answered.
“Understood.”
“Good,” James replied with satisfaction.
*
In the end, Maggie barely batted an eyelid when James came in with Sam that evening. Maybe the idea of her mother dating James was so ludicrous that it had not even occurred to Maggie as a possibility. As Sam and James chatted about video games over dinner, Laura thought it probably was. James seemed far more Sam’s friend than hers, although as the evening wore on she wondered if that was intentional, to allay any fears of either hers or Maggie’s. Or was she overthinking everything as usual?
In any case, it was pleasant indeed to have James simply in her house, at her table. The presence of a man—a kind, funny, interested and engaged man—was something she thought they all needed in their lives.
As before, he helped clear the table when the meal was over, and Sam and Maggie had disappeared up to their rooms. Laura hefted the kettle, raising her eyebrows in silent enquiry, and James grinned his agreement.
Goodness, but she’d missed this—the easy camaraderie, the silent communication, the understanding and the companionship. She hadn’t had it with Tim in a while, she knew, well before he’d died.
But she didn’t want to think about Tim just now.
And yet it seemed she was going to, because he was the first thing James asked about.
“I know Maggie is seeing a counsellor,” he said as soon as they were settled on the sofa with their coffees, “but what about you and Sam?”
Laura tensed instinctively. “What about us?”
James smiled faintly, as if he knew exactly how and why she was stalling. “Are you seeing one?”
“I was, back in Woodbridge. I haven’t looked for one here. I’m not sure how helpful it is for me, to be honest. Well, it was hard,” she amended. “And I’m not sure I was ready to dredge up all my feelings and examine them once a week.”
“Fair enough,” James replied, and Laura gave a silent sigh of relief that he wasn’t going to push. “And what about for Sam?”
“He didn’t mind it, but he didn’t love it, either.” She sighed. “I suppose I should suggest it to him again, just in case. The thing is…” She hesitated as she sorted through the tangle of her feelings. “He actually seems so happy now. Minecraft Club, the play date with Will…things are going well for him. And taking him to counselling feels a bit like dragging him back into the mire of sadness and grief. When do you get to stop?”
“When you feel like that’s the right thing to do?” James hazarded. “I don’t know. I’ve never lost someone to death yet. But I see what you mean about Sam. He does seem happy.” He paused. “Did he have a good relationship with Tim?”
Laura prickled instinctively. “Yes, of course he did. Why do you ask?”
“I just want to get to know you, Laura. I’m not suggesting anything.” James’s tone was gentle, and Laura bit her lip. She’d definitely sounded a bit snappish.
“Sorry. It’s just…” She blew out a breath. “Yes, he did, when Tim was present.”
“Present? Did he travel for work?”
“No, he just…checked out sometimes. He could be really into something—like building a tree house and zip wire in the garden—and Sam would be really excited. And then when it was over Tim would just…go sort of blank. Emotionally. I think the big projects exhausted him, as much as he loved them. He needed a few days or even weeks to recover, and sometimes to Sam I worry it might have felt like a kind of rejection, even though I know Tim didn’t mean it that way.”
She’d never explained that to anyone before, not even her counsellor. She’d never said how frustrating it was, how hurtful, to feel as if you only had someone’s attention about half the time, even when that half made you feel as if you were the centre of his world.
James cocked his head. “I’m guessing Sam’s not the only person who felt that way.”
“No,” Laura agreed, “but please don’t turn into my counsellor, James. I want you very much as my friend, but I don’t think I can bear you analysing all my emotions. It feels…unbalanced. Unequal.”
“Sorry.” James grimaced. “Now I feel like a prat.”
“No, don’t.” She laid a hand on his arm, and just that simple touch—the warmth of his skin through the sleeve of his shirt—had sparks leaping within her. “No doubt I’m being oversensitive. I’ve just reached the point where I want to stop going over the past endlessly, wondering what went wrong or if anything did.”
Although the reality was, she knew, that she just pushed all those undealt-with emotions to the back of her mind, like lidless Tupperware in a cupboard—shove it all in and shut the door as quickly as you could. Probably not a healthy response, but that was a problem for another day. “I just want to live my life now, as best as I can.”
James’s eyes darkened as his gaze remained steady on hers. “I can get on board with that,” he said in a low voice.
Laura’s breath hitched. James leaned forward, just an inch or two, but it was enough for her to wonder if—to hope—he might kiss her. What would it feel like to be kissed again, after all this time? Lips on lips, faces close, bodies…
A shudder went through her. Her fingers clenched on his arm. Gently James uncurled her claw-like grasp and laced his fingers with his, which almost—almost—felt as intimate as a kiss.
“Remember what I said about children not being present,” he murmured. As if to prove his point, someone thundered down the stairs and quickly Laura yanked her hand from James’s. Her palm tingled.
“Mum, is Mr Hill still here? Oh.” Sam paused, a perplexed look on his face as he took in the sight of them sitting close together on the sofa. Laura scooted across to the other side.
“You can see he is,” she said in an over-bright voice that made her wince and James smile. “We were just having a coffee. What’s up?”
“I wanted to show him this thing on my iPad.” Sam was still looking uncertainly between the two of them, and so Laura rose from the sofa, taking James’s coffee cup as well as her own to the sink.
She washed them up, her mind a numb haze, as Sam and James talked about Minecraft. Just remembering the feel of James’s fingers linked with hers, that look in his eyes…Laura leaned against the sink as she struggled to get her heart rate under control. She had it bad.
She’d just finished loading the dishwasher with the rest of the dinner dishes when Sam headed back upstairs and James made to leave. He gave her a rueful smile of acknowledgement as he slipped on his jacket that Laura could barely return.
Her lips didn’t feel as if they were working properly; nothing felt as if it were working properly. Her body felt like a jumble of disparate parts, her heart still beating far too furiously.
“Thanks for having me over,” he said lightly, his hands dug into the pockets of his jacket. “Is this going to become a thing?”
“A thing?” Laura repeated dumbly.
“Monday night suppers. Because I quite like the free meal. Lasagne is as high up on my list as bolognaise.”
“Oh, well.” She let out a sh
aky laugh. “Maybe, then, if you’re up for it.”
“I am.” He gazed at her for another heart-racing beat and then he turned to the door. “See you tomorrow.”
“Yes.” Laura remained at the door, breathing in the damp air, as James was swallowed up by the darkness so she could only hear the crunch of his footsteps on gravel, and then nothing at all.
She pressed one hand to her chest; her heart rate was only just starting to slow. She wondered how on earth she would survive a dinner each week, as well as seeing James every day, when she was in this high state of tension and awareness. She feared there was a likelihood that standing in the schoolyard or sitting at the dinner table, she might spontaneously combust.
And yet, she acknowledged as she closed the door, she felt more alive than she had in a long time…and she knew she didn’t want to go back to the way she’d been.
Chapter Fourteen
“Isn’t she scrumptious?” Lindy’s arms were already reaching out for baby Zoe as Ava slumped gratefully onto the sofa. “Why do babies seem so edible? Honestly I just want to nibble her cheeks, I really do.”
Lindy cuddled Zoe close while Laura watched on with a smile. Zoe was indeed adorable—red cheeks, a rosebud mouth, bright blue eyes, and a tuft of hair the same whisky brown as Jace’s. Who could possibly resist her? Already she felt her own arms twitching, longing for a cuddle.
Knowing Lindy wouldn’t give her up anytime soon, she turned to Ava. “How are you feeling?” she asked, and Ava rolled her eyes.
“Like I’ve been bulldozed. I don’t know how, because it actually hasn’t been that long, but I somehow managed to forget just how the whole process consumes you—the labour, the birth, actually having a newborn… I want a holiday.” She shook her head ruefully, but she was smiling. Anyone with eyes could see that Ava was absolutely in love with her baby daughter.
She’d come home from the hospital three days ago, and already Laura thought she looked as beautiful as ever, if a little understandably dishevelled. Ava was the type of woman who could make a stained hoodie and trackie bottoms—her current ensemble—look sexy.
“And what about Jace?” Laura asked as she perched on the edge of a chair. When she and Lindy had knocked on the door of the Tuckers’ house, Jace had greeted them cheerfully and then, with William tucked under one arm, he’d happily disappeared to do ‘man stuff’ with his son. A brood of clucking women wasn’t exactly his domain, Laura could tell, just as she could see he adored his daughter as much as his wife did. Still, she asked, if only so Ava could beam fondly in recollection.
“Jace is over the moon. It’s lovely to see him like this, actually. He was the same with William, of course, and he loves him like his own…” She paused, a crinkle appearing in her forehead as she continued quietly, “It’s different though, isn’t it?”
“One kind of love doesn’t cancel out another,” Lindy proclaimed robustly as she planted a smacking kiss on Zoe’s plump cheek. “Love increases love. The more you have, the more you get. The more you give.”
“I’d like to think so,” Ava replied. “It’s hard not to worry a little bit, especially as they get older. What if William seems really different to Jace when he’s a teenager? His half-brother is a right prat, if I do say so myself, not that they’ve ever met.” Laura only knew the gist of Ava’s past life, as hinted at during their evening at The Three Pennies—an older husband who had died, two stepchildren who had made her life difficult.
Ava sighed and shook her head. “But here I am, borrowing trouble, when I have a husband who loves me and two beautiful children.” She gazed fondly at Zoe, still cradled in Lindy’s arms. “Really, right now I feel like the happiest, luckiest woman in the world.”
“And so you are.” Lindy jiggled the baby as she began to fuss, the soft, mewling sounds tearing at Laura’s heart and memory. “Fancy a cuddle, now that she’s not cooing adorably at me anymore?” Lindy asked with a wry smile, and Laura held her arms out.
“You might need to get some practice in, Lindy,” Ava remarked archly. “Any wedding bells ringing soon?”
“Ava.” Lindy blushed rather becomingly. “Roger and I have only been dating for a few months. I hardly think…”
“But you’re not getting any younger.”
Lindy grimaced good-naturedly. “True.”
“And the two of you were made for each other. Anyone can see that. The man adores the ground you walk on, and likewise with you. If it weren’t so cute, it would be sickening.” Ava grinned devilishly at her. “Why not put a ring on it?”
Blushing all the more, Lindy laughed and shook her head. “Well, when you put it like that, it seems obvious. But you should know that Roger is a slow and steady kind of person. I don’t anticipate wedding bells anytime soon.”
“Well, you’re the one who needs to hurry him up,” Ava replied. “Waltz him to the altar, girl!”
“In time,” Lindy murmured. “Maybe.”
Laura only half paid attention to the conversation, because the second her arms had closed around Zoe she’d felt her senses go into adoration overload. The lovely warmth of a baby, the comforting weight, that sweet baby smell…she’d forgotten it all, and yet she remembered it exactly as soon as Zoe was in her arms. Laura drew her close to her chest and pressed her lips to the top of her soft, downy head as her own eyes fluttered closed.
“Someone’s broody,” Ava remarked dryly, and it took Laura a few stunned seconds to realise she meant her.
“What?” She opened her eyes and blinked a smug Ava and a smiling Lindy into focus. “Oh, but…who doesn’t love a baby?”
“Loads of people,” Ava returned. “Trust me. I wasn’t all that fond of them until I had William, to be perfectly honest. Fortunately he grew on me.” She slid Lindy a laughing glance. “What do you think? Is Laura pining for another?”
“You seem like a natural,” Lindy admitted with a smile.
Laura rested one hand on Zoe’s back, savouring the steady rise and fall of her tiny chest. “It’s like riding a bike, I suppose,” she answered. “You never really forget.”
And yet it was true, she realised as she continued to rock Zoe. She was a bit broody. She missed this—the tiny snuffling into her neck, the sweet small breaths. The love. She still had so much love to give—and not just for a baby. Her arms tightened almost possessively around Zoe as she considered the matter.
She’d been wobbling and waffling about whether to go on a date with James and after Maggie’s overreaction about her even texting someone, she’d thought she ought to take a big step back. Yet now, with a baby in her arms, she realised that what Chantal had said was true. She was young, and her life wasn’t over. She wanted another chance at the whole shebang—husband, maybe even another child. Did that have to be selfish or wrong? Why did some contrary part of her continue to insist it was?
“You are going to have to give her back, I’m afraid,” Ava said, interrupting her whirling thoughts. “I’m leaking.” She gestured ruefully to her top, which had two revealing damp patches.
“Oh, sorry.” Laura handed the baby over and Ava took her to her breast. Her empty arms were a good reminder that a single date with a much younger man did not, actually, translate into a husband and babies. James would probably be appalled by the spiralling nature of her thoughts. He wanted dinner; she was already onto the happily ever after. Goodness, but she was ridiculous. Chantal would give one of her great big belly laughs if Laura told her how she was thinking, but she also knew her friend would understand. I want another chance. It was the first time she’d let herself say it; it was, she realised, the first time she’d actually felt it. She really was waking up.
*
“So you will come?”
James suppressed a sigh as he heard the hopeful and slightly wheedling note of his mother’s voice. She was desperate to have all six siblings under one large roof for a weekend, and out of all his sisters and brother, James knew he was the most reluctant to return home. As much as
he loved his family as individuals—and he did—when they all got together, particularly back at the family farm, he felt…what?
Resentful, he supposed, at his core. And a bit angry. And a little left out. It wasn’t a good combination, and so he avoided the occasional get-togethers, preferring to see his siblings one at a time away from the farm, rather than all together when the need, particularly for his father, to compare the children and their successes became overwhelming. Or so James supposed, since his dad never seemed to be able to resist making a comment or two.
How much does a teacher make these days? Or I thought teaching little ’uns was a woman’s job. Yes, his father was carved from the 1950s, fortunately in a fairly lovable way, but he was a traditional, taciturn farmer whose father and grandfather had been farmers, and James knew he couldn’t expect a man such as that to be anything but a product of his times and culture. Even so, those barbs, made with a faint look of disappointed befuddlement, still held the power to wound.
“James?” his mother prompted beseechingly.
The sigh James had been suppressing came out in a gust of resignation. “Yes, of course. I’m happy to come. When is it? The first weekend of March?”
“Last weekend of February, at the end of half-term. And if you’d like to bring someone…” his mum continued, trailing off meaningfully. She’d had high hopes for Helen, especially since James, in a moment of optimistic excitement, had confessed to his parents that he was going to ask her to marry him. Too bad that hadn’t worked out, although nearly nine months on James could admit he and Helen really hadn’t been suited.
She’d been a city person, focused and ambitious and a bit brittle, whereas he was too laid-back, too unmotivated, at least according to her, and too geeky. Well, fine. He could handle all that. Besides, there was Laura to think of now, to hope for, although recently he wondered if that was really going to go anywhere.
Every time he felt as if he was getting somewhere with Laura, she backed away, both physically and emotionally. There had been that charged moment on her sofa when he’d been so tempted to kiss her…and then her skittish behaviour the next day, skirting around him in the schoolyard, her face on fire. James understood this new frightening new territory for her after her husband’s death, and he considered himself a patient man.