by Bree Verity
“When does your gig finish?”
Steve grinned. “Why? What did you have in mind?”
“Well, I thought maybe we could go have a drink, maybe a dance, then maybe you’ll take me home.”
“Sweet.”
CHAPTER SIX.
She hadn’t stuck around at Steve’s place, only staying long enough to throw her clothes back on and lie that she would call him. She left him, drowsy and contented in his bed, barely able to lift his head up.
But Desiree felt dirty and ashamed by the experience, like she had done something morally reprehensible. Like kicking a kitten or something. A long hot shower on her return home didn’t scrub away her self-loathing and a restless night’s sleep hadn’t done anything to soothe the trouble in her mind, but at least she hadn’t had to look Steve in the eye the next morning.
She couldn’t understand her reaction. It wasn’t as if either she or Steve had done anything they didn’t want to do.
Ah, but you wished he was someone else. And that’s not cool.
She dragged herself out of bed, and through squinty eyes checked the time on her ancient, analog desk clock - eight o’clock. She picked up her phone. There was a message from Penny asking Desiree to call her when she got home, but she ignored it. Stumbling through her house, she reached the kitchen without actually properly opening her eyes. She flung open the overhead cupboard door where the coffee usually lived, then remembered she had used the last of it yesterday.
Shit.
Milo it is.
She filled the kettle and flicked it on, trying to clear her head of the early morning cobwebs, but with little success. She seemed to be permanently fuzzy this morning.
As the kettle boiled, Desiree sat heavily down at the kitchen table and sent a text to Penny.
“Hey Got home OK sorry I didn’t txt earlier”
She was surprised to receive a reply almost immediately.
“Is all good :-) Are you all good?”
“I’m all good”
“Did you?”
“Yep”
“And?”
“I thought about Jack”
“Oh shit”
When there were no more messages from Pen, Desiree just shrugged and made herself a Milo. It was a poor substitute for coffee, but at least it cleared some of the fluff from her head.
Desiree’s usual Saturday morning consisted of getting up and going to the markets for some fresh vegetables, and although she felt somewhat like the slut Penny had called her yesterday, that was no reason to change the plan. So she swallowed down some Panadol with the last of the Milo, washed out her cup and made her way back to her bedroom to find some clothes.
She glanced with dislike at the pile of black vinyl on the floor which had been her clothes from yesterday. The more she looked at them, the more they reminded her of what she had done. In a fit of pique, she picked them all up, boots included, took them outside, and chucked them in her wheelie bin.
It didn’t help. She still felt like crap.
Coming back inside, she dug around in her wardrobe until she found an outfit that was as little as possible like what she had worn yesterday. She didn’t really have anything sunny and bright, so the best she could come up with was blue jeans (instead of her usual black), and a flowy red top, which she put on over a purple tank top. She wrapped a sterling silver chain around her neck and, as always, wore her charm bracelet on her right wrist. She stepped into the bathroom and looked in the mirror. Massive panda eyes stared back at her out of a pale, tired face. She sighed, and set to work removing the ravages of last night.
She started by smoothing makeup remover all over her face, wiping it off with a flannel. Then, she concentrated on getting her eyes back to normal. The huge amount of mascara she had worn yesterday proved difficult to remove, and she scrubbed at her eyes impatiently. The scrubbing motion felt good, she decided to scrub her whole face. Maybe that way, some of the shame of what she had done would wash away with the detritus from her face.
Ten minutes later, she had a lovely, pink, clean face, but still a guilty conscience. She scowled at her face, gave herself the finger, and turned her back on her reflection.
Parking at the markets was always hazardous, so when her phone beeped that there was a message, she chose to ignore it until she had fought for a space, backed into it and turned her engine off.
The message was from Steve.
Desiree closed her phone without reading it, and pushed it as far down into her bag as she could.
The markets, as always, were crowded with people. Desiree loved to go there, to disappear in the crowd, and to spy out the week’s fresh fruit and vegetable bargains. She also loved the little coffee shop that sold not only takeaways, but also bags of flavored beans - anything from vanilla and chocolate through to rum and even pepper flavored coffee.
Who the fuck would drink pepper flavored coffee?
She selected two bags of her favorite blends and the lady behind the piles of beans ground them for her. The smell was amazing. Desiree put the choc orange and French vanilla grounds in her bag, and nodded her thanks at the lady, who smiled back.
She had just turned to walk away, when she noticed someone familiar across the way, and her stomach descended to her feet. It was Jack. At the markets. When she had just slept with someone else.
Desiree very nearly turned and ran when she noticed Jack looked a little flustered, which was not surprising. Not only was he trying to juggle a box full of fruit and vegetables, his two boys were shouting at each other, and poor Jack was trying to settle them, and pull them apart at the same time. Faith, like any fourteen-year-old in an embarrassing situation, was standing apart, trying to distance herself from them, her arms crossed in front of her, shoulders hunched and her face firmly pointed at the screen of her iPhone. Desiree smiled at the scene. Then she squared her shoulders and marched over.
“Need a hand?” she said, loud so that she could be heard over the caterwauling of the kids.
Jack looked around, and instant relief flowed over his handsome features. “Absolutely,” he said, although Desiree couldn’t hear it. She wondered if he could see the guilt in her face. Faith glanced up and noticed her, and Desiree gave her a wave. She got an answering grimace before Faith buried herself back in the phone.
Desiree squatted down beside the two boys, who were taken aback enough to stop shouting for a moment.
“Hello. My name is Desiree.”
“Hello.” Two sullen little voices replied, and Desiree noticed that they were both holding on to opposite ends of a wooden toy truck.
“Now, are you guys fighting about that truck?”
Instantly, they both started to shout again.
“Tommy won’t let go!”
“It’s my truck.”
“No it isn’t.”
“Wait, wait, wait,” Desiree held up her hands, and the boys stopped, looking at her. “So you both want the truck?”
A small chorus of “Yes,” went up.
“Can you share it?”
The boys looked at her like she had two heads.
“I mean, both of you are holding it now.”
They looked down to see each of their little hands holding one end of the truck.
“Why don’t you just swing it between you?”
“Because I want to play with it.” One of the twins nodded in agreement with the other.
“But you can’t play with it when you are walking around the markets anyway.”
“But it’s mine.”
“No it’s not.” The argument almost started again. Desiree put her hand on the truck, which silenced both of the boys immediately.
“But why does it matter whose it is? You can’t play with it right now, but you can both hold it. Why don’t you just do that?” The two small boys looked at each other, considering. A silent agreement was shared between them, and one of them shrugged. “Okay.”
“Okay. So are we good?”
Th
e boys nodded.
“How about a high five?”
She got a high five from each of the little guys, then stood back up.
Jack was open-mouthed. “How did you do that?”
Desiree grinned at him. “I’d like to take the credit, but really, it’s just adding in a confusing factor. In this case, it was me. Because there was a change, it got them out of their little fighting rut. It probably won’t work again if they start to fight again.”
“Hey, I’m happy for all the help I can get.” Jack’s dimples appeared as he bestowed a wide smile on her.
“Can we go now?” Faith butted in between them, dragging out her words like she had been forced to wait forever to go home.
Jack smiled ruefully at Desiree over the kid’s heads and shrugged. Desiree smiled back sympathetically.
“Sure we can go. Say goodbye to Desiree, boys.”
“Bye Desiree,” the chorus sang.
“Bye kids.”
“Bye Desiree,” said Jack, echoing the kids.
“Bye Jack.”
Faith grabbed her father’s hand and pulled him away, with the boys trailing along behind, truck swinging merrily between them.
The smile fell from Desiree’s face as she watched them walk away. Jack’s arse was adorable, but even that wasn’t enough to cut through her melancholy. Even if there was ever going to be a chance for them, she didn’t feel worthy of him anymore. She felt as if she had cheated on him. She knew it was stupid and far from the truth, but her guilt taunted her.
She completed her shopping desultorily, all the joy she enjoyed from being at the markets evaporated.
Jack, on the other hand, was exultant. And it wasn’t just because Desiree had settled the boys, who had been playing up from the moment he had gone into the markets. She looked different in a casual setting, and Jack thought her face looked different too, less pale and sharp.
“Did she look different to you?” Jack asked Faith, who shrugged, her lips pursed and her brows drawn. Jack could tell something was up. “What is it, chickadee?”
It took Faith a moment to respond. “She’s my teacher, Daddy, not your friend.”
“Can’t she be both?”
Before Faith could respond, Danny piped up. “She’s my friend. I think she’s nice.”
“Me too.” Tommy chimed in with his opinion.
“Me three.” Jack elbowed Faith gently, but she didn’t respond.
His brow furrowed. They reached the car and Jack automatically unlocking the doors. The kids clambered in and he unconsciously buckled the boys in the back, depositing the fruit and vegetables between them.
The drive started off in silence, even the twins sensing there was something wrong. Jack was still frowning, still puzzled. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Faith glance at him every now and then.
“Daddy?”
“Yeah Faith?”
“Do you want to be friends with Miss Jackson?”
Jack carefully considered his answer.
“She’s a nice lady, Faith. And even though she’s your teacher, if she wanted to be friends with me, I wouldn’t say no. I ain’t got enough friends here that I can afford to throw one away.”
“But just friends, right?”
Jack’s fingers tightened around the steering wheel. Sometimes Faith was a little too perceptive for her own good. A little white lie here would not go amiss.
“Course. Just friends.” At least to begin with.
“Well, if you just want to be friends with her, I guess that would be okay. Just be careful that no-one from my school finds out.”
“Sure, honey. No problem.”
“Oh, and Daddy?”
“Yeah?”
Faith seemed to struggle a little deciding what she wanted to say next.
“No, nothin’.”
“What is it?”
“No, it’s fine.” She turned away and looked out of the window.
Jack spent the rest of the trip home wondering what else Faith wanted to say to him.
CHAPTER SEVEN.
Steve had been persistent, Desiree had to give him that. He had rung twice every day, and had quite obviously not expected her to pick up today. But she was going out of her mind sitting at home. There was too much time for thinking at home. Besides, it was not cool to stay home and drink by yourself. And Desiree had wanted very much to drink, to try to diminish the thousand thoughts of Jack that raced through her head every day, but she had resisted. Steve had presented her with the perfect opportunity to get shit faced.
She didn’t offer, and he didn’t ask for an explanation as to why she hadn’t talked to him in the last few days. She was glad he didn’t press her for an explanation, because she probably couldn’t have given him one - at least, not one he would have liked. And while she still felt guilty about their one-nighter, between the choice of having to face Steve, or having to face yet another evening alone resisting the calls of her friends Jim Beam and Johnny Walker, Steve was the lesser of the two evils.
Or so she had thought. She had to keep downing the drinks so that she could drown out Steve’s incessant nattering about his job and his band, and everything else going on in his life. It seemed as soon as he got a few ales in him, the hinge holding his mouth shut broke loose. Words spewed out of his mouth and Desiree felt vaguely guilty because she couldn’t care less.
It was on Desiree’s fourth bourbon that Steve brought up their one nighter.
“It was pretty good the other night, babe,” he said, scooting his barstool as close to her as he could and putting a hand on her knee. She looked down at it and anxiety sparked through her body, clutching at her chest And making it hard to breathe. Despite the alcohol, she was still far too clearheaded. She knew she had to tell Steve the truth. What she did was wrong, even for her. There was a world of difference between a nice, light relationship and doing what she had done.
“Listen, Steve, about that.”
“I wouldn’t mind doing it again if you’re up for it.” He lifted one eyebrow and a smile crossed his face.
“Steve,” she started, but just at that moment she noticed someone walking into the bar and her heart sank.
That’d be fucking right. This just keeps getting better and better.
It was Jack.
Not only was it Jack, it was Jack with another woman.
Well, this is just fucking fantastic.
Desiree watched them as they walked across the floor, Jack handing the lady into a chair and then leaning down to ask her what she wanted to drink. Desiree wanted to smack the lady in the mouth for the way she let her eyes roam over Jack’s face, a self-satisfied smile on her smug face.
He stood up, and made his way toward the bar. It was then that he spied Desiree and his face lit up. Desiree, on the other hand, wanted to hide under her barstool.
“Howdy,” Jack said in his familiar Texan twang.
“Hi.” Desiree tried to sound cheerful. “How’s things?”
“Can’t complain.” Jack caught the bartender’s attention and placed his order.
Steve piped up. “Do I know this guy, Des?” He seemed to be having trouble focusing, and he seemed to be swaying wildly. Desiree hoped he wouldn’t tumble right off his barstool.
“I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure.” Jack stretched his hand out. “Jack Duncan.”
Steve made a grab for his hand, missing the first time, but, by concentrating really hard, making it into the handshake on the second. “Steve Adams.” Steve nodded, confirming that he got his name right. Desiree rolled her eyes.
“He’s very drunk,” she confided loudly to Jack, who laughed and replied, “I figured he was.”
“I’m pretty drunk, too.”
“Really? I hadn’t noticed.”
“You’re a gentleman. I think it’s very obvious that I’m drunk.” She crooked her finger at him and he leaned in. In a loud whisper she said, “You know what? I’m getting drunk tonight on purpose.”
�
��Is that so? Is it your birthday or somethin’?”
She stared at him, confused. “No, I don’t think so. Hey Steve. Is it my birthday?”
“I don’t know. I don’t think I know your birthday.”
“Oh. Jack, is it my birthday?”
“Actually, you know what? I don’t think it is.” He nodded to the bartender who had deposited his drinks on the bar. “So, why are you getting drunk?”
“Who says I’m drunk?” Somewhere in her hazy mind, she realised that she didn’t want Jack to see her like this. “I am one hundred percent sober. Fucking soberific. That’s what I am.”
Jack laughed. Desiree said earnestly, “I like your laugh. You have a nice laugh, Jack Duncan.”
“Thank you ma’am.” He picked up the drinks from the bar, but hesitated before walking away. “You might not remember it tomorrow, but I thought you might like to know, I won a secondment to my office in Perth, so I’ll be around a whole lot more for Faith.”
Desiree smiled in genuine, not-drunk pleasure. “That’s awesome, Jack. Good news. How does Faith like it?”
“She’s over the moon. She can’t wait for me to sack the nanny.”
Desiree snorted with laughter. “I bet she can’t.”
“Who has a nanny?” Steve had been trying to follow the conversation, without much success. Desiree said to him, “Jack has a second something so he can stay in Perth so his daughter wants him to sack the nanny.”
“Is she hot?”
“Who, Jack’s daughter? No you fucking perve, she’s only fourteen.” Desiree cracked up with laughter at her own attempt at drunken humor. Jack shook his head, the curve of a smile on his face. Steve just stared at her, his brow creased, trying to understand the joke.
“No, I mean the nanny.”
“I dunno. Jack?” She turned back around to face him. “Is the nanny hot?”
“She’s not really my type, Steve, but I’m sure someone, somewhere might think she was hot. Alrighty, I better get back to my date. Good to meet you Steve.” He shook his hand. “You folks have a good night.” He put a hand on Desiree’s shoulder and she involuntarily reached up to hold it there for a moment. An easy smile crossed his face before he gently pulled his hand away and went back to the woman at the table.