Suddenly, I sat up straighter. I had an idea. An idea as to how to get to know these kids, and hopefully connect with them.
“What does everyone do for Halloween around here?” I asked, looking around the table.
Three little faces stared back at me, their mouths open. I could see chewed up vegemite sandwich about to fall out of Poppy’s, if she wasn’t careful.
“Halloween?” Max repeated. “This is Australia, silly. We don’t have Halloween here.”
“What is Halloween?” asked Harper.
I looked at them. This was going to be interesting.
Zane
I watched the children slowly walk to the table, climbing onto their chairs. Bianca had managed to get them to the bathroom, at least, and their hands were washed.
Mrs. Price brought a steaming roast chicken to the table, carefully placing it in the middle alongside the gravy boat and roast vegetables that were already sitting there. Dinner was almost ready.
I tried to stifle a yawn, but didn’t quite succeed. I was bushed. If the children hadn’t been here, I would have finished dinner on a tray in my bedroom by now and probably be in bed, sleeping off the whirlwind business trip. But they were here, and I always made a point of dining with them if I was home. It was a way to stay connected with them, and I hadn’t seen them in a while.
“There you go.” Bianca placed a napkin on Harper’s lap. I watched her dark hair fall across her shoulders as she straightened the napkin. I had a strange urge to run my hands through that hair, it was so full and glossy.
It was going to take some getting used to, having a young, beautiful woman in our midst. I don’t think I had ever had fantasies of running my hand through Rosa’s hair. I could see why Jo had always employed older, straitlaced nannies now. It was a bit disconcerting lusting after the help.
It was only because I was tired, and feeling low, I told myself. Also, I hadn’t been with a woman in a long, long time. Well, I had been recovering from a messy divorce, after all. Of course, I was going to have moments of weakness if there was an attractive woman around. It didn’t mean anything.
“Are you going to dine with us?” I asked her, now. She turned toward me, obviously not expecting it.
“Mrs. Price,” I called. “Could you set another place, please.”
I could see the older woman muttering to herself as she brought over the extra plate and cutlery. It was hard for her; she was used to the old ways, where the help ate separately from the family. She would never dream of accepting a place at the table herself.
Bianca sat down, looking uncomfortable. I could see that she was feeling Mrs. Price’s disapproval.
I carved the chicken, and Bianca served the vegetables onto the children’s plates. Eventually everyone had a meal in front of them.
“What have you all been up to today?” I asked.
Max turned to me, eagerly. “I was helping Robbo,” he said. “We were bringing the cattle over to the other yard.” His eyes were shining as he took a bite of his chicken.
I smiled at him. Max was a little chip off the block, always wanting to be outside. He was going to love running the station, when his turn came.
“I played barbies with Harper,” Poppy piped up. “Beach Barbie was having a concert, and the other barbies were the groupies.” She giggled.
I frowned. When had she heard that word? Of course, being around Billy Baker. That degenerate. I could see that Poppy knew the word was one she wasn’t supposed to use, but I didn’t think she had any idea of its meaning. Probably best to ignore it.
“Well, I’m glad you are all enjoying yourselves,” I said. “As of next week, school starts again for you and Max, Poppy.” Both groaned, but I was adamant. “Hey, at least you don’t have to leave home, like you did in Sydney.” Because we lived so remotely, children here were schooled by correspondence, called the School of the Air, until they went to boarding school as teenagers. It was how I had been schooled, and my father and grandfather.
“Daddy,” Harper said, her big blue eyes earnest. “We’re going to have Halloween. Bianca is going to do it for us.”
“Halloween?” I looked at her, not sure I had heard properly. I looked at Bianca, questioningly.
She smiled at me. “Just an idea I had,” she said. “I thought it would be fun for the kids.”
“We don’t celebrate Halloween in Australia,” I said. “Well, I’ve heard they have started to in the cities, but we’ve never done it out here.” I picked up my knife and fork, spearing a chicken leg.
“But that doesn’t mean that you can’t,” said Bianca, looking at me. “It’s really a lot of fun. The kids would love it.”
“You get to dress up in costumes, Daddy,” said Poppy, her eyes shining. “And go trick or treating. You get lots of lollies!”
“Where would you go trick or treating around here?” I replied, a touch scornfully. “We live in the middle of nowhere. Our nearest neighbors live hundreds of miles away.”
“We could figure something out,” said Bianca. “Maybe the kids could trick or treat around the station. It’s as big as a town.” She picked up her drink, glancing at me sideways.
Was she challenging me? I looked at her, quietly assessing. I suppose it wouldn’t do any harm; at least the children would have a good time. We’d never done it before, but like Bianca said, that didn’t mean we couldn’t.
“Well, I suppose if you know what you’re doing,” I said to her.
She smiled, a wide smile that reached her big, blue eyes. I caught my breath. She really was a stunning looking woman. I could feel myself stirring, slightly. Damn. This was getting uncomfortable.
“Thank you,” she said. She turned to the children. “The first thing we have to do is figure out your costumes. Mrs. Price was telling me there is a sewing machine here. I think I could make the costumes, seeing as we live so far away from any stores.”
“You could always order them online,” I said. “We get deliveries here.”
“But that’s not as much fun,” Bianca said. “Besides, I’m a great sewer. I’m a trained fashion designer, you know. The kids can help me.”
“What about material?”
She frowned. “I hadn’t thought of that,” she said.
Poppy spoke up. “There’s lots of material and stuff in the attic,” she said, looking from me to Bianca. “I saw Mummy store a lot of stuff there.”
Bianca smiled. “Well, then, that should be fine,” she said. “How about we go and have a look tomorrow? There might be lots of other things we could use in the attic, as well.” She winked at Poppy.
Max screwed up his nose. “Dress ups are for girls,” he said, disdainfully. He refused to look at Bianca. Her smile wavered.
I could see he had been giving her a hard time. Max was the oldest, and he was notoriously hard to impress. He was also slow to trust; he had been the most affected by the break up. The girls would thaw, eventually; if someone was responsive enough to them, they would come around. But Max was a harder nut to crack.
I wished, for the hundredth time, that things had turned out differently. That their mother and I hadn’t separated, but also if we had to, that it hadn’t been so messy. The kids had been back and forth between us like yo yo’s, and they also had to deal with their mother’s new volatile relationship. It was a lot for kids to deal with. No wonder they were wary of new people.
“You could dress up for Halloween,” I said to him, glancing at Bianca sympathetically. “I’ve been to dress up parties, before. Even grown men can do it, Max.”
“Really?” Max looked at me as if I had just grown another head. “You’ve dressed up?”
“Sure,” I said, taking a sip of water. “Your mother and I went to a dress up party for New Year’s Eve, once. Your old dad made a pretty good Marc Antony to your mum’s Cleopatra.”
“Who’s that?” Max wrinkled his nose, again.
I sighed. “Never mind. I don’t have time for history lessons,” I smiled.
“The point is, it’s okay for boys to dress up, buddy. It’s a lot of fun.”
Max thought about it, then he turned to Bianca. “Okay,” he said, slowly. “But I don’t want to be a girl. Could I be Batman or something?”
I could see Bianca sigh with relief. “Of course,” she said. “You can dress up as anything or anyone you like! Some people like to be scary characters, like ghosts or mummies. But lots of other people dress up as famous people or characters.”
“Cool,” Max said. He offered Bianca a small smile, then continued eating.
Bianca looked at me gratefully. I smiled back at her. It was a start, at least.
The kids were finally put to bed, after I had read them all a bedtime story.
I breathed a sigh of relief. At last, I could relax and head to bed. It was so good to be home, and I had to admit, it felt very good to have the children back at Birrimba. It was their home, after all. It had been in our family for five generations. The legacy was strong, and I didn’t want it to end with me. Not after how hard my ancestors had worked to build it up.
Birrimba was in my blood. And I wanted my children to feel that calling too. It was worth more than all the money in the world. I walked out onto the veranda, gazing up at the sky. There wasn’t anything like it. The night sky in the desert was a sight to behold. A million stars twinkled in the sky, as far as the eye could see. I leaned against the old weatherboard railing, soaking in the night. Finally, I felt myself relax.
I heard a movement. Was there somebody out here? I felt myself bristle, slightly. I enjoyed this time being by myself, of a night. I didn’t particularly feel like speaking to anyone.
And then I saw her. Bianca. She was on the other side of the veranda, leaning against the railing just like I had been. Her face was tilted toward the night sky; she looked like she was a thousand miles away, in her head. Sad? Pensive, at least.
Well, she was a long way from home. And this was all so new to her. I continued to watch her; I didn’t think she had any idea that I was there.
She sighed, picking up her long dark hair with her hands, and twisting it into a knot on top of her head. Then she let it fall, shaking it out. I was spellbound; it was one of the sexiest gestures I had seen in a long, long time. Suddenly, I was imagining her in bed, naked, picking up her hair and letting it fall, just like she had done.
I imagined her above me, breasts swaying, surrounded by all that long, dark hair…
I shook my head, wryly. This was the third time today that I had become aware of her as a woman. It had to stop. I couldn’t have these thoughts clouding my judgment of her; they were too distracting. And besides, I wasn’t ready to go there, even if she had have been a likely candidate. I was still raw over the break up with Jo. Even though I had instigated it, it still hurt like hell.
Divorce was like a death. You had to move through the stages of grief slowly; there was no rushing it.
Bianca turned, as if she had heard something. I backed away, so she wasn’t aware of me. She stood still for a moment, then with another deep sigh moved away, back into the house. I could hear her footsteps as she walked to her bedroom.
Even though I hadn’t wanted to be seen, I suddenly felt her absence keenly. I wanted to follow her down the hallway, softly open the door to her room. What would she be doing? Would I catch her just as she was undressing for bed?
Stop it, I told myself sternly. Let it be.
But that picture of her stayed with me for the rest of the night.
Bianca
“Bianca! Look!”
I glanced around at Poppy, who was buried deep in an old chest. She was pulling things out and tossing them to the floor at an alarming pace. We had climbed the pull-down stairs to the attic half an hour ago, and I was half regretting my decision to make these Halloween costumes.
The attic was simply jammed with items. It was hard to make a start, and when we had, there was so much it was overwhelming. It seemed like the attic had never been cleaned out; there were items in here from when the homestead had first been founded. I had already found an old parasol, like they used in the nineteenth century.
Harper had found an old porcelain doll, which she was now playing with. She had named it Dora, after her favorite children’s show. Dora was so old she creaked as Harper bent her, and her head lolled dangerously. I could see an accident happening, could just picture her screams when the head suddenly fell off.
Whose doll had it been, I wondered. Some little girl had loved her, once upon a time.
Poppy sneezed. It seemed like we were disturbing colonies of dust spores, that had lived here for decades. I felt my eyes twitching, as well.
I spied another old chest, buried deep in the corner. I opened its lid, coughing slightly as the smell hit me. Musty. But as my eyes adjusted to the light, I could see old fabric. My heart did a little twirl.
I carefully pulled it out, gasping. It was indeed old. An original Victorian gown, high collared. It was yellowed with age; it must have been white, once upon a time. It was made of lace and silk, and in remarkably good condition.
“Girls,” I called, over my shoulder. “Come and have a look at this!”
They stood up and came over. Poppy’s eyes widened, and Harper sat down as if in a trance, reverently stroking the old material.
“Did it belong to a lady?” she whispered.
“It must have,” I said. I let the girls admire it, and looked back in the chest.
I pulled out a wide brimmed hat, and a small jewelry box. I opened it, to see an old Cameo brooch, a pearl necklace and matching clip on pearl earrings. This was vintage at its best. I knew some shops in San Francisco that would pay a small fortune for this stuff. The dress, especially.
There was something else, tucked away at the bottom of the trunk. Was it a book? I hauled it out, blowing dust off it. It was indeed a book; it looked like someone’s journal. I opened it to the first page. Old spidery handwriting leapt out, with a date at the top, the second of February, 1892.
Wow. Whose journal had it been? Without even thinking, I started to read. But at that moment, Mrs. Price’s voice could be heard at the top of the stairs.
“Miss Harris,” she called. “I am not sure if you are aware, but it is after twelve thirty. The children need their lunch.” There was reproach in her voice, of course.
I sighed, rolling my eyes. The girls giggled.
“Coming,” I called back. I turned to the girls. “Let’s grab all the stuff that we found, and go and get some lunch. We can always come up again later if we need anything else.”
They nodded, carefully gathering the items. Harper grabbed Dora, then looked at me. “Can I please take her?”
I nodded. What harm could it do? Whosever doll it was didn’t need it, anymore. And Harper had fallen in love.
The girls trailed down the stairs. I looked at the journal. Should I?
Why not. I added it to the pile, walking carefully with my loot down the stairs.
The girls were excitedly talking about our finds over lunch.
Max feigned disinterest, but I could tell he was a little intrigued. He had refused to come and help us, preferring to be outside with Robbo, as usual. But at least he was starting to come around, if only a little.
“I found an old dolly,” Harper lisped. “And we found a very old dress, that Daddy’s mummy must have worn!”
I laughed at her. “It wouldn’t have been your Daddy’s mother who wore that dress, Harper,” I said. “It’s over a hundred years old. More like your Daddy’s great-great-grandmother.”
“Great, great, what?” she looked at me, her eyes bulging. I shook my head, laughing still. How did you explain time like that to a four-year-old?
“Well, anyway,” I turned to Max, “we have enough material to start making the costumes for Halloween. So, you want to be Batman?”
“Maybe,” he said. “Or Spiderman. I don’t know.”
“Okay,” I said. “But can you make up your mind by the
end of today? I will need to start sewing. Halloween is only two weeks away.”
He nodded. “And what about you two?” I said, turning to the girls.
“I want to be a fairy,” said Harper. “With wings, and a wand.”
“Perfect,” I said, smiling at her. “Poppy?”
Poppy thought for a moment. “Could I be Alice, from Alice in Wonderland?”
“Wonderful choice,” I said. The girls giggled, and clapped their hands. Even Max smiled.
“We’ll need to make some decorations, too,” I said. “We’ll have to get a pumpkin to make a jack o’lantern. And I’ll make some skeletons and other stuff.” I was getting excited, myself. Halloween had always been one of my favorite times of the year, and I loved getting creative and making stuff. Well, I had trained as a fashion designer.
“It’s going to be so much fun!” I clapped. The girls laughed.
At that moment, Zane walked into the room, talking into his phone. He ended the call, then came over to the table.
“What’s going to be so much fun?” he asked, staring at me.
I was struck again by what an attractive man he was.
This surprised me; I hadn’t thought about men in months, and I had never been overly interested. Whereas a lot of my friends were still with their childhood sweethearts or entering serious relationships, I had never had a long-term boyfriend. Cara and I had discussed it a bit. She thought it had something to do with the fact that our Dad had walked out on our Mom when we were young. Cara thought we both had trust issues.
I didn’t like to over analyze it, like she did. I just knew I was usually happier on my own, and I couldn’t be bothered putting up with any bullshit from a man. Maybe I just hadn’t found the right one, yet.
But I was certainly impressed with Zane. Well, at least my body was. I could feel myself blushing as he continued staring at me. I couldn’t seem to find my voice.
Daddy's Christmas Date: A Single Dad Romance Page 18