Just for Fun

by Rosalind James

  “You do?” she asked as she bent over to perform the set of dead lifts he ordered next.

  “Looks good that way too,” he said, somehow keeping track of the count and the conversation while he watched her. “Just like that time I saw you in your class. Much better now that I know I get to touch it. And that’s it,” he finished, lifting his bar over his head and setting it down as the song ended. He grabbed a couple towels from the bar nearby, tossing one to her. “Shoulders next.”

  “Mum?” Zack came into the room in his new pajamas, hair sticking up in all directions in wild abandon.

  “Morning, baby,” Emma said, pulling him in for a hug and kiss. “You slept late.”

  Zack was looking at Nic’s barbell with awed fascination. “Wow. That’s huge.”

  Nic laughed, gave his son’s head a rub and reached to turn the music down. “Don’t tell the forwards that. They’d fall about laughing. That’s why the backs like to train together, avoid those embarrassing comparisons. You have a good night, in your new bed? How’d that lower bunk suit you?”

  “Good,” Zack said, leaning close as Nic wrapped a sweaty arm around his shoulders.

  “We’re still working out, for a while longer,” Emma said. “Why don’t you go brush your teeth and get your clothes on? Then you can go play in your tower, if you like, or come down here with your Tintin book while I finish. Breakfast soon, I promise.”

  “And mate,” Nic added. “You may want to check your shelves in that room. Because I think there may be something on there now. I hate bare shelves.” He gave the boy a wink that had Zack scurrying for the door again.

  “New Lego set,” Nic said at Emma’s questioning look. “Something for here, for him to do this weekend.”

  “It’s a bit different,” he added thoughtfully as they adjusted their weights in preparation for the next group of exercises.

  “What is?”

  “Having a kid. Having to think about what he’s going to do, so you can finish your workout.”

  She laughed. “If you get to finish. It’s nice that he’s six now and can do more for himself. But you’re right. Your life isn’t nearly as simple. Or as spontaneous.”

  “I’m discovering that,” he admitted. “Elbows out. Lift to chest height,” he demonstrated. “Twelve of these.”

  “Are you regretting taking it on?” she asked as she followed along.

  “Nah,” he said seriously. “I said it was different. Not that it wasn’t better.”

  “That’s a pretty picture,” Nic said, coming back into the house with Zack after an afternoon rugby session. He leaned down to kiss the top of Emma’s head as she sat cross-legged on the couch, her lap full of pale green skirt.

  “What, me knitting? I don’t look like your sweet granny?”

  He laughed. “Not exactly. What’re you working on now?”

  She held up the large circular needle to show him. “A skirt for my sister.”

  “I like those . . . holes in it,” he said.

  “The lace pattern,” she smiled. “Yeah, it’s pretty, isn’t it? I’m going to weave some silk ribbon through, in this horizontal band between the two main patterns. That’s why I’ve made bigger openings there.”

  “How d’you do that? Make the holes?” he asked, coming to sit beside her.

  “You really want to know?” she asked in surprise.

  “Yeh. Why not?”

  “Looks tricky,” he commented as she demonstrated the pattern.

  “Yeah, lace can be,” she admitted. “It’s a challenge to pay attention, not to make a mistake. I can’t knit lace during rugby games anymore. I end up with the pattern all over the place. And if I’m watching you,” she confessed, “I can’t knit at all.”

  “Another dream realized. I’m more fascinating than knitting. And we have an hour,” he announced, glancing at his watch. “Before we need to head out to the pub, if we’re not going to be rushed getting to the game.”

  “OK. I’ll finish this row, then I’ll get Zack and me ready,” Emma promised.

  Zack pulled at Nic’s arm until his father bent over. “That’s what she always says,” the boy confided in a low voice. “But she takes a long time. We’ll be late.”

  “Hey. I heard that,” Emma protested. “I’m not saying I won’t be rushing around at the end. But I have to finish my row.”

  “No worries,” Nic smiled, watching her needles fly. “We’ll be on time.” Because they actually had an extra fifteen minutes. He had Emma’s little issue with time sussed out by now.

  “Nice jersey, Zack,” Reka said with a warm smile as the three of them edged into their seats in the stands well in advance of the start, thanks to Nic’s strategic planning. “I see you’ve decided which team you’re supporting tonight. Not turning up in a Boks jersey.”

  “This is the real All Blacks jersey,” Zack told her seriously. “The new one, this year’s. And I have All Black pajamas, and an All Black bedroom, at Nic’s. I have everything.”

  “At Nic’s, eh,” Reka said, her gaze moving amongst the three of them, curiosity evident. Emma edged around her with a word and a hug, gave Hannah and Kate a quick kiss hello, enquired after Jenna and the baby.

  “Yeh,” Nic said, pulling Zack to him with an arm around his shoulders. “At my house. I see you’ve got to know my son, Reka. So you will’ve already learnt that he has good taste when it comes to sport.”

  All the women looked up at that, Nic saw with satisfaction. Well, if you had something to announce, telling Reka was the surest way.

  She recovered quickly. “Go on down past Kate,” she instructed Zack now. “Show the other kids that flash new jersey. They have an extra flag for you, too. Brought it along specially.”

  “I hope you don’t mind that I won’t be paying too much attention to you during the game,” Nic told Emma as they settled down to await the teams’ entry onto the field. “I need to keep a sharp eye out tonight, see how the Boks’ve decided to play us. As I’ll be out there against them myself in a few weeks.”

  “No worries. I’m sure Reka will keep me company.”

  “I’m sure she will,” he said with a smile. “I know that put you on the spot, but Zack needs to know, too. That I’m his dad, and I’m happy to tell anyone about it.”

  Emma had cravenly hoped that Reka would be too interested in the fast-moving game for further discussion. Pity tonight’s referee was one of those who seemed to enjoy picking up every infraction. The game was a stuttering stop-start affair, interrupted by countless scrum resets and lineouts. Plenty of time for Reka to get a few questions in.

  “Nic seems chuffed about Zack,” was her first sally. “I wouldn’t really have expected less of him, but I’m guessing it’s been a bit complicated. With Claudia, and all.”

  “Yeah,” Emma agreed. “It was. Nic’s been nothing but involved since he found out. He’s done everything right, really. But it hasn’t been easy.”

  “That’s what broke off the engagement, eh,” Reka asked. “We all wondered, because she made a dead set at him from the start. It was hard to imagine her giving him the push. Which of them was it, in the end? Was it her? Or him?”

  Emma wondered if she should say. But she knew what Reka was really asking, and she wanted to scotch that rumor from the start. “It was her,” she said. “But not because of me,” she went on hastily. “Nic and I hadn’t . . . we didn’t . . . I think they were having problems anyway,” she finished lamely. “And then, Zack.”

  They fell silent for a few minutes, watching the game. Until the referee blew the whistle for another scrum.

  “So he told her he had a kid,” Reka guessed. “And that was one hill too far.”

  “Yeah,” Emma said with relief. “I think so.”

  “No loss,” Reka pronounced. Emma couldn’t help a surprised burst of laughter, which had Reka joining in. “Just couldn’t warm up to her,” Reka confessed. “Nic’s a sweetheart. He deserves better. Somebody warmer.” Her glance was speculati
ve again.

  “She was beautiful, though,” Emma pointed out. “I only met her once, but I saw lots of pictures. She’s stunning. And really intelligent, from what I hear. She’s going places, I think.”

  “Huh,” Reka sniffed. “I asked Hemi once, and he said, too perfect. He said, you want a girl you can rumple a bit.” She grinned at Emma. “Sorry. That’s my hubby talking.”

  Emma laughed, but she was glad when the teams went into the changing sheds at the break with the All Blacks up by a measly three points, and she could turn to Nic again. He sat back with a frustrated sigh, a frown making an unusual appearance on his normally cheerful face.

  “Bad?” she asked tentatively.

  “Not getting any quick ball,” he complained. “Their forward pack has us on the back foot, and we’re not able to play any kind of expansive game. And all those penalties the ref is blowing, they’re not helping a bit. All chop and change, not able to get into any kind of rhythm.”

  “Would it be better if you were there?” she asked.

  He grinned suddenly. “I’d like to think so, wouldn’t I? Because I always figure into it more when we play the Boks. I sometimes wonder why they don’t move away a bit from that kick and chase strategy, but on the other hand, they have the best record of any team against the ABs, so you could say it works for them. Keep it amongst the forwards, keep us from playing our best game. Anyway, win or lose, you know you’ve played a match the next day.”

  “You mean you figure into it because they kick it away so much,” she guessed, zeroing in on the part of his speech that had caught her attention. “And then you kick it back, or run it, or pass it to one of the wings, or whatever. Depending.”

  “Yeh.” He smiled again at her. “Depending. Are you asking, depending on what?”

  “Not right now,” she decided. “I’ll wait till you have time to really explain it. Because I’m afraid you’re going to have to be drawing me pictures.”

  “I’ll just go get you a beer, then,” he decided. “If I’m going to be watching from the stands, may as well take full advantage and have a bev while I can.” He leaned around her, touched Reka on the arm. “Can I get you something?” he asked her. “Or any of the others?”

  Reka relayed the offer down the line, turned back to Nic. “A beer for Kate, she says. Nothing for Hannah. And definitely nothing for me. I’d just end up spending the second half queuing for the toilets. Thanks, though.”

  He looked a bit startled, and Emma laughed. “You’re presuming too much pregnant-lady knowledge, Reka.”

  “It’s your bladder,” she explained kindly to Nic. “When you get that pregnant, the final trimester. The last three months,” she translated. “The baby’s pressing on everything, and you don’t have much room in there.”

  She laughed again at the look on his face. “Go get the beers,” she told him. “Escape before we start talking about hemorrhoids.”

  That had Reka laughing as well, and Nic scooting off in a hurry.

  “He’s facing a fair learning curve, I can see,” Reka said, as Hannah and Kate leaned forward to join the conversation.

  “What did we miss?” Kate asked, eyes sparkling. “Because I’ll bet Reka’s got it all out of you, Emma. Come on, catch me up.”

  “You’re as bad as Reka, Kate,” Hannah told her. “I swear, you’re becoming Maori yourself. Show a little Pakeha restraint.”

  “I’m Italian,” Kate complained. “That’s already halfway to Maori. And the other half, Koti’s been working on. You want restraint, go sit with Emma and be blonde and proper together. Leave Reka and me in the Fun Kids section. So Nic’s ditched Cool, Capable Claudia, eh, Emma? Did he come to his senses, or did she decide she fit the role of Wicked Stepmother a little too well?”

  “Kate!” Hannah gasped. “That’s bad, even for you. That’s going too far.”

  “Whoops.” Kate looked chagrined. “Sorry, Emma. I do get carried away, when I’m having fun.”

  “No worries.” Emma had been laughing in spite of herself. “I already told Reka. I may as well tell you too. It was Claudia’s idea, as far as I know. And I don’t know her, so I can’t comment on her personality.”

  “But you and Nic are an item, eh,” Reka asked.

  Emma flushed. “Uh . . .”

  “Poor Emma,” Hannah protested. “Shift over, Reka. I am going to sit with her. We need some blonde power over here. Stop pestering her, you two.”

  “Can you check with Zack how he’s doing, Kate?” Emma asked. “If he needs to use the toilet, or anything?”

  Kate leaned over for a consultation, then turned back to Emma. “He says he already went. That Ariana took him, before the break.”

  “Oh, no,” Emma said with shock. “I’m sorry. I should have asked sooner. I didn’t realize they’d be wandering about on their own.”

  “Ariana loves it,” Reka assured her. “Being the oldest, she thinks she’s everybody’s auntie. I’m going to have to watch out, or she’s going to be taking over this one entirely.” She wrapped a protective hand around the mound of her belly.

  “She’s a good little manager,” Hannah told Emma. “Even at nine. Wonder where she gets that from.”

  “Oi,” Reka protested. “We’re capable. That’s what we are.”

  All the women looked up as Nic edged down the row of seats again, handed Emma the tray with the beers. He leaned over to give her a quick kiss before sitting down himself. “In for a penny, in for a pound,” he announced, looking at Reka with a laughing smile. “Because I know you were wondering.”

  Emma twisted in the seat of the Lexus to check on Zack. “Asleep,” she told Nic. “That was a lot of excitement, last night and today. He’ll need a quiet day tomorrow. Because school starts again on Monday, too. Maybe we should go on home, in the morning.”

  “Why?” he objected. “Why can’t we all have a quiet day? What would you be doing, if you were at home?”

  She considered. “Maybe having Graham over for a few hours.”

  “Well, why can’t we do that? Ring his mum and ask, why don’t you? I know Zack’d love to show him his tower. And I meant to ask you to go to the flat anyway tomorrow, pack a few more things. You could collect Graham then. I thought you and Zack could stay with me till I’m off to Aussie on Thursday.”

  “I have to go to work, though. And Zack has to go to school.”

  “And your point?”

  She really couldn’t think of one. “It’s not much more driving,” he said. “And I’d be able to take Zack to school, collect him as well, on Monday. Give him a bit of a shorter day. You wouldn’t even have to do as much. Rose’ll be coming by, every afternoon.”

  “Every afternoon?”

  “Monday through Wednesday, yeh. She comes and does my washing, a bit of a shop, fixes me something for dinner. As well as cleaning.”

  “Wow. You have somebody to fix your dinner every night?”

  “Weeknights, when I’m home. Because I have to eat right, and there are only a few things I know how to make,” he confessed. “Can’t have steak and salad every night, or scrambled eggs. Besides, I don’t like cleaning, but I like it clean. What’s a fella to do?”

  He went on more seriously. “I’ll be back training on Tuesday, and off to Melbourne on Thursday, start that long stretch away. We don’t have that much time. I’d like to spend as much of it as I can with you and Zack.”

  “It won’t be that exciting,” she warned him. “He’s tired at the end of the day, and so am I. And if any of those days are too tiring, we may have some tears, a meltdown. Can you handle that?”

  “I’ve already seen you cry,” he pointed out. “I think you know I can handle it.”

  “I meant Zack.”

  He smiled. “I know you did. Whoever has a meltdown. Even if it’s me. I can handle it.”

  Chapter 33

  It felt strange to be at home again once Nic had left for Australia. Back to the regular routine that had been their normal life, but that
felt so flat now to her, and to Zack too, Emma suspected. Watching the game helped. Talking to Nic the next day, as the team were preparing to get on the plane for the flight to Argentina, helped more.

  “Here’s where he is,” Emma explained to Zack after they’d rung off, pulling up a world map on the computer. Here’s us, in New Zealand, see? And here’s Melbourne.”

  “In Aussie,” Zack said seriously. “I know where that is.”

  “Right. Because you’ve been there.”

  “And then where does he go?” Zack asked.

  “Here. A long, long, way. He’ll have to fly past New Zealand again, see? And then all the way across the Pacific Ocean to Buenos Aires, in Argentina. Almost halfway around the world.”

  “Does it take a long time? Like Safa?”

  “Even longer. Fifteen hours. That’s a whole long day, from the time you get up in the morning, to the time you go to bed. That’s how long.”

  “Do they do training, when they’re going on the airplane?” Zack wondered.

  She laughed. “I think that’d make the plane tip over. Not really,” she hastened to add when he looked alarmed. “But there isn’t room. No, they’re tired anyway, after their game. They’re resting from that, and putting ice on the sore places, probably, like Nic did on his ankle, remember? And sleeping, and eating, and watching some films.”

  “And then they do training. When they get there,” Zack guessed.

  “Yeah,” Emma smiled. “They’ll be doing heaps of training. I think you can count on that.”

  The difference in time zones meant that Zack couldn’t talk to his father during the long week while they waited for the game against Argentina, and they had to rely on the emails Nic sent. At last, though, it was Saturday noon in Auckland, Friday night in Argentina. Emma let Zack go first, then gratefully took the phone herself, the first time that week that she’d felt free to talk for more than a few minutes, the first time she hadn’t been at work when Nic rang.