Innocent Tears

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Innocent Tears Page 10

by Iris Blobel


  Two tiny little dimples appeared on his cheeks. How could she resist? “Sounds like a good plan.” Her piercing blue eyes met his, and when he gently pulled her up from the chair the mere touch of his hand sent a shiver through her body. Jack stepped forward, wrapped his arm around her waist, and caressed her mouth with his warm lips. Emma’s heartbeat throbbed in her ears as his hands teased her body.

  “Jack?” she whispered against his lips as they kissed.

  “Hmm?”

  “Whatever you do, just don’t stop!”

  Then he gently lifted her up and carried her into the bedroom. Emma loved his nearness, his touch, his lips exploring her neck… when she suddenly heard him whisper with his breath hot against her ear. “Sunshine? Please tell me the pink knickers with the fairies on them are yours.”

  “What?” She moved away slightly and followed his stare. A smile tugged at her lips. “Those must be Naddie’s.”

  His dark eyebrow shot up. “Naddie?” He slowly let her down, still hugging her to his body.

  “Yes. She stayed here the other night.”

  “You’re kidding, right?”

  Emma stepped away from him and tried to meet his eyes. “I don’t understand?”

  He shrugged. “Dad as well?”

  She stared at him. “Dad as well, what?”

  Jack tucked his hands into his pocket and rocked forward on his heels. His left eyebrow rose slightly. “You know–”

  Emma drew in her lips and dropped her stare to the floor. She took a deep breath before her gaze moved up to his face where it lingered. The very way he stood there with his short hair ruffled, a shadow of a beard, muscles rippling under his pale green shirt, and his pants just hanging on his hips made her want to ignore where he was going with his questions, but uncertainty crept up in her.

  Jack shook his head and traced his eyebrows with his forefinger and thumb. “I’m sorry, Em, I really am.” He exhaled. “Just let’s forget about it,” he said as he stepped closer again. His fingers trailed down her temple, but she held onto his wrist.

  “I’m sorry Jack, but what did you mean with that remark?” she asked just above a whisper.

  He held back a smile. “Just a bit of jealousy on my behalf. It’s just, you spend quite a bit of time with both of them. But I was wrong and I apologise.”

  Emma nodded at him but remained silent.

  “Em?”

  She hugged her arms around herself and said quietly, “Sorry, Jack, but I’m tired.” And turned away from him.

  “I did say I’m sorry, Emma!” he replied louder than their previous words, and it made her flinch.

  Looking back over her shoulder, she met his eyes dead on. “I know you did. I understand and accept your apology, but the moment is gone, Jack. I’m honestly tired. It’s been a long day.”

  Jack gave her a reluctant nod. “No worries. I suppose I–”

  “No Jack.” She blew him a kiss as she said good night.

  * * *

  * * *

  Flynn sat on his bed with his elbows on his knees then bent forward to rest his hands. He was tired, yet restless amongst so many other things. He ran his hands through his hair and looked out the window. One week. One lousy, little week, and everything had changed. Next door a child slept contentedly, with her all her dolls and Nan and Pa’s little teddy bear. His girl, his own blood, and the result of his love for Sarah. Shaking his head, he remembered his father’s new nickname: Teddy. Teddy, as in Grandpa, and Nadine got along famously, and the thought made Flynn ache in his heart even more.

  He so much enjoyed the short time with her sitting on his lap as they all listened to Carl’s stories. Laughter had filled the kitchen, yet once they stood up, his girl followed his parents into their room instead of staying with him.

  With a huge effort, he stood up. His body now seemed so much heavier with the burden on his shoulders. As he walked over to the window to admire the rain reflecting off the water in the bay, the scenery in front of him reminded him more of a picture out of a fairy tale book than real life. Leaning against the window frame, Flynn called up his memory of the last time he had seen Sarah…

  “Flynn, please don’t look at me like that. I’ll be back in no time.”

  He sighed and nodded.

  “I just want to see Dr. Garrison to check me out. That’s all.”

  “Honey, they’ve got good doctors over here as well.”

  She smiled and placed her hand on his cheek. “I know, but Dr. Garrison has known me since I was a little tod.”

  Flynn raked his hands through his hair before his gaze fell to the ground. “Okay. I understand.” He understood. In fact, he had understood for a few weeks. He had to work very long hours, sometimes only coming home when she was already asleep, and leaving when Sarah was not awake yet. A loving smile had tugged at his lips when he had watched her face, while wondering what her dreams were about. Leaving her in the warm bed took all his strength. He’d have given anything to spend the weekends in bed with her. Cuddling, caressing, exploring, or just talking, but he knew after only a week in the apartment on her own, Sarah was more than eager to get out of these walls. Exploring Melbourne, the neighbourhood, or have a nice meal together. The sadness in her eyes said it all in the end. She missed her friends, and she even missed her parents.

  “I love you, Saz,” he whispered

  “I love you, too. Very much.”

  And for the first time in his life, he sent a prayer up above as he kissed her. All he wanted was for her to come back. To try again. For him to try harder to make it easier for her. When he returned home, he hesitated at the door to their apartment. He stepped in and his knees nearly buckled beneath him. The rooms were still filled with her things, her clothes, her books, everything but her herself…

  He never saw her again. Watching the rain splash against the window he slowly turned his gaze towards the sky.

  20

  The following Monday, Emma returned to work after her week-long leave. She was in the hotel café enjoying a nice breakfast, when Jacqui joined her. Still in thoughts about the previous week and all that had happened, her friend’s greeting startled her.

  “Welcome back,” Jacqui said with a mischievous smile on her face.

  Emma sighed and added another spoonful of sugar to her tea. “Thanks,” she replied with as much sarcasm as she was able to add.

  Jacqui tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and her voice grew more serious. “I miss you, Em. We haven’t had a decent night out in weeks. Come on. Don’t be mad at me anymore.”

  Emma lifted her head to meet Jacqui’s eyes. The pain inside was still too fresh. “You hurt me, Jacqui.”

  “I didn’t hurt you, Em. I shared my opinion with you, and as friends you should accept that. Even if you don’t agree with it.”

  “Agree?” Emma laughed sarcastically. “You’re telling me lies.”

  Jacqui cupped her glass of juice in her hand. “They weren’t lies, Em.” Her dark brown eyes caught Emma’s. “I’m concerned. That’s really it. I heard it from Tina.” Then she cast her eyes back to her juice and said, “Have a guess why she left him.”

  Emma measured her friend with an appraising look. “My guess would be that she’s just angry and spiteful. Look, Jacqui, I honestly don’t wanna talk about it. End of story.”

  Jacqui stood up and shrugged. “Your choice.”

  Emma watched Jacqui as she walked off. She missed her friend, too. She missed the nights out with the girls. It was just not the same going out with Jack and his friends. She closed her eyes as she swallowed the lump that lingered in her throat, and sat in silence.

  “Cup of tea?”

  Emma jumped at the sound of Frank’s voice. “Oh, Frank. I didn’t hear you coming.”

  “I can see that. Everything okay?”

  She nodded and managed a small smile. “Yes. And yes, please. I’d love to have another cup of tea.”

  “I’m busy at the moment, but you know you can com
e and talk to me if you need a shoulder to cry on, don’t you?”

  She broke into an open smile. “Thanks, Frank. But honestly, all’s right.”

  * * *

  * * *

  When Emma got home that afternoon, she stepped into her room, tossed her bag into the corner, and threw herself onto the bed. It had been a miserable day for her. First, there was the conversation she’d had earlier that morning with Jacqui, which had turned her mood sour, and nothing she had done had changed it. It was an all-day-bad-mood-day. A lousy day, and Jack wasn’t home to cheer her up, either. As she lay on her bed, her heart pounded against her chest and misery spread through her.

  How much she would’ve given for the chance to cuddle up to her mother like she used to do when she was a child. The warmth in her mother’s voice, the gentle arms that kept her safe, and those soft hands caressing her cheeks. All the troubles seemed to be only half as bad. She gazed up at her mother’s paintings, and unlike the last time, a rush of calmness slowly spread through her body. As she focused on the orange sun melting into the purple sky where it sank into the turquoise blue of the ocean, she nodded off.

  When Emma woke only a short time later, she reached over to the phone and dialled the familiar number. A number she knew by heart and had known most of her life. Why hadn’t she thought of that earlier?

  “Hello?” a soft voice answered the call.

  “Auntie Mary?”

  “Emma, darlin’. How are you?”

  Emma shrugged. “Good and bad.”

  “Love, what’s wrong? Want to come over?” Mary asked with concern in her voice now.

  Emma rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and sat up with a yawn. “Are you home? Can I stay the night?”

  Mary’s tone turned happy. “Of course you can. Bring your overnight bag and I’ll cork a bottle.”

  “Have to get back to work tomorrow, though.”

  “Not a problem, love. You can use my car.”

  A small laugh escaped Emma’s lips as she thought about using the old metal apparatus through the Melbourne traffic. She’d turn heads all right!

  She had packed a few things, including pyjamas, and left a note for Jack, who was still out with friends. Lucky him!

  Auntie Mary was her mother’s older sister. She was the kind of person who had loved the sixties and seventies, though Emma always assumed that Mary couldn’t have been much older than her own mother. Age was just not an issue for her. Mary had married young. Emma had heard the story a couple of times of how her auntie had married an American soldier who promised her heaven on earth. And for a few months, life had been just that, until he went back the USA for family reasons. His plane crashed over the Pacific Ocean with no survivors. Life had never been the same for Mary and she lived every day remembering her love, and every day as if it could be her last. She opened a virtual window and let life into her house. Foster children or abused women had always been welcome. She carried her heart in the right spot.

  As she opened the door, Emma couldn’t help but smile at her auntie, with her long, blonde, frizzy hair wild and uncombed, old faded jeans with some oversized T-shirt, and of course bare feet. She was so unlike Emma’s mother. Whatever her age actually was, her face still looked young and energetic. Her brown eyes radiated warmth and kindness as she embraced Emma.

  They went into the kitchen, where Mary had already dished up some dinner.

  “Love? Have you been to see your parents recently?”

  Emma shook her head guiltily. “No.” She looked up at her auntie. “Will you go with me at the weekend?”

  Mary reached over and patted her niece’s hand. “Of course I will.” Then she leaned back and took another bite of her lasagne. “But, how about you tell me what’s wrong?”

  Emma took a sip of her wine. “You know the worst part is that the things we did are turning into memories.”

  The confused and quizzical expression on Mary’s face told Emma her auntie didn’t really understand.

  “I can’t seem to remember their faces anymore. It’s just memories, traces, blurred visions–”

  Mary raised her hand. “I get the gist, darling. But it’s the memories that feed the love. Don’t be afraid of looking at the old photos and laughing at the things you did together, instead of crying at the loss you’re feeling. If you don’t let go of the grief, the pain won’t ease.”

  Emma exhaled and then told Mary about Nadine and the death of the child’s mother, as well as how she was just left with the man who was her dad, though she didn’t know him and he hadn’t had any idea about her existence.

  “Oh dear. The poor little girl,” Mary said with sincere tone. “You do have to bring her along one day so she can have a taste of my famous lasagne.” She winked at Emma.

  Emma chuckled. Yes, the lasagne was indeed one of the best in town, if not the state. They ate and sipped at their wine in silence for a while, when Emma took a deep breath.

  “Auntie Mary?”

  Mary glanced up at her. “Yes, love?”

  Emma met her auntie’s eyes, but remained silent, before carefully choosing her words. “Do you think you can be with someone and still be attracted to someone else?”

  Mary smiled as she placed her fork next to the plate, leaned her elbows onto the table and intertwined her fingers. “Dear, oh dear.”

  Emma stood up and took her plate over to the sink. “Never mind. He’s a jerk anyway.”

  Mary’s eyes widened. “Which one?”

  “I don’t know.” She replied in a tired whisper as her shoulders sagged.

  Rubbing her temples Mary sighed. “Sorry, darling, I’ve lost you.”

  Emma turned around and her voice reflected her frustration. “The Dad’s a jerk, because he can’t handle a little girl. I mean, honestly, how hard can it be to give a little girl a hug? And Jack? Well Jack is a jerk, ‘cause–”

  Mary looked at her patiently waiting for her to finish her sentence.

  “Never mind.” She said throwing her hands up in irritation.

  “So, love, you like Jack?”

  Emma nodded. “Yes.”

  “But he’s done something which you don’t want to talk about?”

  She nodded again. “Yes.”

  Mary met her eyes dead on. “Did he hurt you?”

  Shaking her head Emma answered, “No. No. No, he… goodness, no. Auntie Mary, it’s nothing like this at all!”

  “Are you sure?”

  Emma nodded.

  Mary exhaled “And you like the dad?”

  She shook her head defiantly again. “No. Definitely no!”

  Emma sat on her chair again and leaned her elbows onto the table, resting her hand on one palm. Nope, she didn’t like Flynn. She’d been quite sure about that. But yet, he slipped into her dreams and refused to leave. It made her mad!

  Mary’s mouth tugged into a smile. “Denial?”

  Emma frowned. “Definitely no, again.”

  “But you like his daughter.”

  As she looked up Emma broke into a smile. “Oh yes, Auntie Mary. She’s absolutely adorable.”

  Her auntie filled her glass with wine. “So let me summarise. You like Jack.”

  Emma nodded.

  Mary almost spilled the wine. “Oh goodness gracious, love.” Suddenly she sat straight up, slowly placed her glass onto the table, and with eyes wide open, stared at Emma. The penny had dropped. “He can’t do it!”

  “What?” Emma’s mouth fell open in complete bewilderment. “Good grief, no! No. I mean… where did that come from? No that’s not it at all!”

  Mary shrugged. “Okay. It was just a thought. You like him. You might like him a lot. Yet, there’s something you can’t talk about. Fair enough. And there’s the dad who you are attracted to, but he’s a jerk.”

  Emma slowly lifted her eyes to meet her auntie’s. Her voice broke with her misery. “Makes me sound like a complete idiot, doesn’t it?”

  Mary stood up and walked around the table to her nie
ce. As she placed her hands on Emma’s shoulders, she gently said, “Love, life’s not meant to be easy. But as your grandmother always told us–”

  “Advice is what we ask for when we already know the answer, but wish we didn't.” Emma heaved a sigh. “I remember.”

  Mary gave Emma a kiss on her forehead. “I think I’ve seen there’s a really, really good movie on tonight. How about I get this bottle into the lounge room and we’ll drool over hot guys chasing the baddies?”

  An easy smile played at the corners of Emma’s mouth. Yes, that was her auntie – so entirely different from her mother. “I think that sounds like the perfect medicine for me.”

  With her arm around Emma’s shoulder, Mary guided her niece into the lounge room, where she re-filled the glasses with wine as Emma turned on the television. Just in time, as the movie had just started – some mind-boggling scene, in true action flick style.

  “Love, you’ll have to get the flowers for your parents’ grave. Your mum doesn’t really like my taste.”

  Emma giggled. “She’s dead, Auntie Mary.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “Oh, I know, but –” She turned to look at Emma. “You don’t want to upset the dead.”

  Emma chuckled. “You’re one weird cookie.”

  “I know, darling. I know.”

  They both shared a smile as they tried to follow the story that was unfolding in front of them on the television.

  21

  “For goodness sake, Mum, I cannot look after a young child. It’s just not possible.” Flynn paced up and down the lounge room. The place seemed so much smaller with his parents in it as well, and for a brief moment he wished none of this was happening.

  “Son, why don’t you sit down and let’s talk about this with the calm it deserves.” Carl stood up and went over to fill his glass with more wine and took the bottle over to Flynn. “More wine?”

  Flynn raised his glass for more.

 

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