No More Laters

by Coleen Singer

  Outside, the last evening of the year was perfect. The searing heat of the previous week had mellowed to a comfortable warmth, and the silky night air caressed her bare arms and shoulders as she leant against the front gate and gazed up at the thousands of tiny stars. It was then she noticed other lights near the ground, and realized they belonged to a car coming down the drive.

  She watched as it came closer wondering who might be coming to visit, and as it turned the final corner and came into view, finally stopping near her, she suddenly recognized it as a car she knew well. The driver's door opened and a man climbed out.

  "Surprise!" he said with a huge smile as he saw Jill staring at him in astonishment.

  "Tim!" she cried with delight. "What on earth are you doing here?"

  Impulsively, she ran to warmly greet him, throwing her arms around him and hugging him tightly. He picked her up off the ground and swung her around, setting her down facing back towards the house.

  "I was missing you too much to wait until you got back. I had a miserable Christmas without you and I wasn't going to spend New Year's Eve on my own too, so here I am. I know you've been having a pretty miserable time too, so here I am, your knight in shining armour, well a not so shiny rust-bucket, actually, but nonetheless I'm here to save you from that fate worse than death!"

  But Jill was barely listening. Looking over his shoulder, she saw to her horror that someone else was watching their embrace and listening to Tim's words. Standing in the shadows was Michael. He must have come from his room at the same moment as Tim arrived, and he'd clearly witnessed everything— Jill's pleasure at seeing Tim, her rushing into his arms, Tim's loud proclamation that he knew what an awful time she'd been having and how he'd come to save her from it, and the kiss which he was even now gently placing on her cheek.

  For a second, Michael and Jill's eyes locked together. Jill could see the mocking disdain on his face and the fight they'd had when he'd overheard her telephone conversation with Tim on Boxing Day came flooding back. It had taken her all this time to get him to even start believing there was nothing special between her and Tim and now all her hard work had been undone in an instant. She could see that, as far as Michael was concerned, she'd just confirmed all his worst suspicions.

  "Michael!" she called out to him, but with a knowing sneer he turned on his heel and disappeared into the shed. A second later, she heard the ute start up and come barrelling out. With the engine still roaring, he let out the clutch and went hurtling past them, and off into the darkness.

  "You don't mind that I came, do you?" Tim asked as, a short time later, they followed Jack's taillights up the drive toward the main road. "You seem awfully quiet."

  "I think I'm still just a bit stunned," Jill answered truthfully, her mind still reeling from the past half-hour's events. Firstly, her discovery that Michael wasn't planning to take Rachel to the dance, and the very real possibility that he might ask her instead. Then Tim's totally unexpected arrival and Michael's rather violent departure. The rest was a blur of introducing Tim to the family, Ali taking him inside to wash up and deposit his bag, and, not least, Vicky's confession that it had been her, sensing Jill's misery and not understanding the cause, who'd thought to invite him for the dance and suggest he stay on and drive Jill back to Melbourne on Saturday.

  "Do you mind?" Tim asked again, more anxiously this time.

  "Of course not," Jill reassured him, hating herself for feeling so disappointed. It wasn't Tim she'd been hoping to be with now, but the last thing she wanted to do was hurt his feelings, so she couldn't let on that she wasn't delighted to see him. "Why should I mind?"

  "Oh, I don't know. Perhaps you figure you've seen enough of me this year. Or maybe you already have a date for tonight?"

  "No, no date."

  "Are you sure?"

  "I'm sure!"

  "Good. I was hoping you'd say that." Something in the seriousness of his tone once again sounded a warning to Jill. He'd made it sound as if it was very important to him, and she had a nasty feeling he was confirming her suspicion that he was beginning to hope for more than the friendship they'd so far shared.

  She enjoyed their relationship, but she knew, now more than ever, that on her part it could never be other than platonic. She cared too much for him, though, not to be distressed at the thought that she might be the cause of him being hurt, and it saddened her to think that their easy camaraderie might be spoilt.

  "So, how much further to the dance, and what should I expect when we get there?" he asked, switching the conversation to less dangerous ground before she had a chance to say anything. She knew that as soon as another opportunity presented itself, for both their sakes, she'd have to make it clear that it was pointless him trying to make more of their relationship than there was. They were friends and would never be more, and somehow, tonight, she had to make him understand that. It wasn't fair to keep him hoping any longer than necessary.

  For now, though, she contented herself with painting as accurate a picture as she could of what a New Year's Eve dance is like in an Australian country town. It would be packed with people of all ages, from newborns to grandparents and even great-grandparents. Outside there would no doubt be lots of men drinking beer together, teenagers hanging around in groups, some smoking openly, some pinching puffs of others' cigarettes when no adults were watching, and furtive lovers stealing kisses in the shadows. Inside there would be plenty of dancing, older couples waltzing or doing the barn dance and fox trot, youngsters shaking and bopping to the local country band, and the real show-stealers—the youngest family members, some only three or four, swaying and jumping, in or out of time with the music.

  It was still early by the time they arrived, but the party was already well underway. As they entered, Jill's eyes swept around the hall, the walls of which were festooned with coloured balloons and streamers. A huge banner along one of the walls bore the message: Happy New Year!

  Every now and then, she caught a familiar eye, and nodded or waved a greeting, but the one face for which she searched was nowhere to be seen. It's strange, she thought to herself, you can be surrounded by people, all willing to be friendly, and yet if your heart is searching for one person in particular who isn't there, you might as well be alone.

  As the evening progressed and there was still no sign of Michael, Jill began to think that he'd decided not to come at all. Neither, she was only too aware, had Rachel yet made an appearance. Despite her preoccupation with Michael's whereabouts, outwardly she managed to seem relaxed and as though she was enjoying herself. Tim, as always, was amiable company, and to her relief neither said nor did anything else to indicate that he might be hoping for a greater intimacy. His presence also had the benefit of keeping other men at a distance so she was not bothered by unwanted attention.

  It was just as they finished their supper and the dancing began again, that she finally spotted Michael entering the hall, Rachel by his side.

  "What's wrong?" Tim asked concerned, and to Jill's surprise she realized she'd visibly started at the sight of them together. Tim was desperately following the direction of her gaze, trying to see for himself what could have caused her to suck in her breath in such a manner, but all he could see were people talking and laughing amongst themselves.

  "Nothing," she lied. "Nothing at all." But the chill of despair and disappointment that had enveloped her caused a shiver to run through her body.

  "You're cold! Come on, I know what'll warm you up," he said, swinging her around into his arms and steering her onto the dance floor.

  "Oh no!" Jill exclaimed, wanting not to dance but to just plead a headache and go home, but Tim was not going to take no for an answer. The band was in the middle of an old-time set, and so they began with a fox trot, followed by a quick step. As they moved around the floor, Jill couldn't help noticing Michael's face in the crowd. He saw her, too, and his expression was cold as he watched her dance past.

  Then the quick step ended, and a slow roma
ntic waltz began.

  "This is more like it," Tim murmured, gathering her closer in his arms, but after only a few turns, Jill was stunned to see Michael approach and cut in. Tim paused, an unspoken question in his eyes, but with a tiny nod of reassurance, Jill stepped from his arms into Michael's.

  It was the first time Jill had ever danced with Michael, and for a second she was afraid they might not fit together, but the instant she felt Michael lead her off, she knew that at least as dancing partners they were made for each other. Without missing the slightest step they moved effortlessly as one, as if each could anticipate the other's next move. Jill felt Michael tighten his hold on her, pulling her closer against him. She could feel his breath on her hair and her own face was nestled in his shoulder. So perfectly were their bodies moulded together, that Jill found herself thinking they could scarcely be closer if they were making love.

  The effect of thinking of Michael and making love was instantaneous! Her skin erupted into tiny goose bumps, her breasts swelled against his chest and a strange throbbing in as yet untouched places caused her legs to tremble. His grip tightened still further, as he ran his hand down her back. Her bottom was still slightly, but now not unpleasantly, tender from the spanking he'd given her the day before, and as he cupped his hand around it and pulled her against him, she shuddered as much from the sensation in her bottom as from the realization, as she felt a hardening against her, that his arousal matched her own. It was a shock then to hear the bitterness in his voice.

  "Why did you do this to me?"

  "Do what? I honestly don't know what I've done to make you so angry."

  "Why didn't you tell me your boyfriend was coming?"

  "He's not my boyfriend."

  "Correct me if I'm wrong," he interrupted in a voice now completely devoid of emotion "but isn't this the famous Tim we've heard so much about? The one who spends nights at your place whenever you both feel like it, and I can only guess how often that might be." As he added the last jibe he ground his hips suggestively against hers clearly insinuating that she probably was often as aroused as he knew she was now.

  "Michael, listen, please! It's not like that. I keep telling you, he's just a friend!"

  "Are you telling me he hasn't shared your bed?" The incredulity in his tone warned her that she was still going to have trouble convincing him, but even as she opened her mouth to try, Tim cut in.

  "Sorry, mate. This lady is spoken for. I'm the only one allowed to monopolise her."

  Inwardly Jill groaned. She knew Tim meant well, that he could have no idea how poor his timing had been, but then if Michael would just stop being so stubborn and listen they could get this whole mess cleared up. Suddenly angry with both of them, she mumbled some excuse and left them standing in the middle of the dance floor.

  Determined neither should follow her, she made her way to the Ladies room. Regarding her pale and drawn reflection in the mirror, she marvelled at how being in love could have such a physical effect. Earlier that evening when she'd looked in the mirror and there had been the half-promise that Michael would claim her for the evening, her reflection had showed a girl with glowing golden skin and a sparkle in her eyes. Now with Michael angry and distant with her again and back to escorting Rachel, the sparkle had dulled and the colour had gone from her cheeks.

  Sighing deeply, she tidied herself up, brushing the dampness from her hair and touching up her traces of make-up, then making a conscious effort to look more cheerful than she felt, she went back in search of the two men.

  She quickly spotted them leaning against a wall engrossed in conversation. Tim seemed relaxed and happy, but Michael was clearly being polite and not enjoying the interchange. Jill, knowing him so well, could instantly recognize the expression of distaste and he seemed to be getting grimmer by the minute.

  As she approached, she wished she'd learned to lip read at some time in her life, but try as she might she couldn't make out what they were saying until Michael, seeing her coming, hurriedly took his leave. Jill saw him shake Tim's hand and had no difficulty at all in reading his lips as he wished Tim luck. She had a feeling that it wasn't a general wish but that Michael was referring to something specific, although she couldn't imagine what.

  "I see you've been getting to know Michael," she said feigning casual interest. "What did you find to talk about?"

  "Oh, this and that," he replied airily, then grinned. "But you mostly."

  "Me!"

  "Yes, you." He was clearly enjoying her curiosity.

  "So," she persisted, unable to control herself, "what was the verdict? If I'm allowed to ask…."

  "Aha!"

  "Oh, Tim, you are being infuriating. You can't just calmly say you've been discussing me, and then not give me any idea of what was said." If Michael had offered Tim any clues at all as to how he might really feel about her, she had to know. She'd had little joy finding out from Michael himself and even though she could see that Tim was surprised by her vehemence and persistence, she just had to know.

  "All right. I wasn't going to say anything just yet, but seeing you insist, you must know that my feelings for you have changed. It seems Michael takes his role as surrogate older brother very seriously. He was very interested in my intentions, so I had to assure him that they are entirely honourable."

  Jill was horrified. Tim, of course, was quite right. She had noticed the change in him toward her, and she castigated herself silently for having let the situation get so out of hand. She must tell him now before things got any worse.

  And Michael? In a flash, she realized the choice she had: she could let this stupid confusion between them continue and return to Melbourne with Tim knowing Michael would be out of her life forever without ever having known how much she loved him, or she could take her courage in hand and tell him, here, tonight.

  Perhaps he would laugh in her face, tell her not to be ridiculous, but even if such a terrible thing happened and she left with Tim with a broken heart, at least it wouldn't be with the thought of what might have been. At least she would know that she had tried her best and not just given up without a fight.

  So, her mind was made up. First she would set Tim straight, and then she would find Michael and somehow make him listen to her. She looked sadly at Tim standing beside her looking pleased and happy. She didn't like what she had to do.

  "Let's go outside for a while."

  "Good idea. I could use some fresh air. It's a bit stuffy in here."

  Outside it was hard to find a spot with any privacy. People were gathered in groups all around the hall, and just beyond the lit area were the shadows of couples obviously using the darkness as a curtain to hide behind as they romanced under the stars. Tim slipped an arm around Jill's waist and nodding in the direction of one such deeply engrossed couple suggested they emulate them. Deciding that now was the moment to speak, that they weren't going to find anywhere more private anyway, and while there was no one in earshot, Jill gently removed his arm and turned to face him.

  "Tim, we've been friends a while now, haven't we?" she began, wishing there was some less hurtful way to say this that didn't sound so clichéd.

  "Yes, we certainly have and it was a lucky day for me the day you came into my life, although I didn't know it then." For a moment, his eyes filled with pain as he remembered back to the time before his wife had died. Jill saw it and laid her hand gently on his arm.

  "Yes, they were happy days, and I know how terribly hurt you were when Sue died. It meant a lot to me that I was able to be there for you when you needed me, and it made me happy that there was someone who did need me."

  "I need you even more now, Jill, but in a different way."

  "Don't, Tim," Jill cut him off. It would be less uncomfortable between them the less that was said. "I'm sorry if anything I've done or said has led you to believe that I might want more from our relationship than friendship. I haven't meant to give you that impression, but I suppose I always assumed that you were leaning on me bec
ause of your grief, and that as you started to make a new life for yourself you would become less dependent on me, that you would make new friends."

  "I don't think I like the turn this conversation is taking," Tim said. "I thought we were coming outside for a little romance. Are you telling me now that you're not interested in me as a lover or husband?"

  "Oh, Tim!" Jill was genuinely shocked at how far Tim's imaginings seemed to have gone. "Look, Tim. I'm really sorry to have to say this, but I can't let you go on thinking like this. I'm not ready to marry anyone, and I honestly have never thought of you as other than a friend and mentor. If you're hoping for more, I'm afraid you're going to be disappointed."

  "Damn!" Tim cursed, getting the message in no uncertain terms. He placed his hands on Jill's waist forcing her to look him directly in the eyes. "Just tell me that it's hopeless," he demanded. "If there's even the slightest chance, I'm prepared to wait. I'm sort of used to having you around, you know. It's hard to picture life with you not in it."

  "Don't you think that might be it?" Jill suggested gently. "You loved Sue so much. I know it left an enormous gap in your life when you lost her, and I think you've filled that gap up with me. That was fine to begin with but you don't really need me anymore. Are you sure you just haven't got so used to me being around that you're mistaking it for something else?"

  "No, I…" Tim stopped and gave her a rueful grin. "Lovely lady, I'm in no doubt that if you gave me half a chance I could fall madly in love with you, especially when you look at me like that with those beautiful eyes, but I certainly don't want to risk losing your friendship by harassing you if you don't want me to."

  "That won't happen. Promise. Thank you for being so understanding, Tim. I'm sure there's someone special for you out there, but I'm afraid it's not me."

  "Well, we'll see about that. Just promise me you'll always be my friend."

  "Oh yes, Tim. Of course, I will! It's what I want more than anything else too." Her relief at the ease with which Tim had accepted her rejection of him as a lover made her speak louder and more fervently than she might otherwise have done, and it wasn't until the words had left her lips that she saw Michael approaching and realized that for the second time that evening he must have clearly overheard. Tim, unaware of this or its implication, suddenly slipped his arms around her, pulled her close, and whispered "Now at least let me see what I'm missing out on," before kissing her lips.