Common Ground

by Wendy Smith

  “Josh?”

  I do jazz hands. “That’s me.”

  “How did you get my address?” She leans against the door, the side of her face pressed against the edge like it’s giving her comfort.

  “Well, I went to the diner, but no one would tell me.”

  She nods. “I’d expect that.”

  “Your friend Damon was there. Oh, he doesn’t like me. Pania threw us both out.”

  At that, she straightens up and draws a deep breath. “Ignore him. I already told him to leave you alone.”

  “You did?”

  “He seems to think if he acts like some kind of white knight that I’ll fall into his arms. But real life doesn’t work that way.”

  I can’t help my smile. “It did once.”

  “You were different.” She sucks in a big breath. “Anyway. How did you find my place?”

  “Out in the street, I ran into a friend of yours. Mrs Randell.”

  She smiles and nods. “She’s a regular coffee customer.”

  “Yes, and she’s got a daughter who’s apparently a huge fan of Reece Evans. Remember Reece, the friend you never met?”

  “Oh, I know all about Reece.” She grins, and I’m almost hurt by her reaction. Reece has that effect on women.

  “Anyway, he’s going to call her, and in return—”

  “She told you where to find me.”

  I shrug. “I’d have done almost anything to get your address. If it wasn’t her, I’d have sweet-talked someone else.”

  “Could have looked in the white pages. My name’s on the website you ordered your burger through.”

  I hesitate. Not once did that even cross my mind. “I’m a dumbass.”

  “Well, yeah, but you did find me. So maybe not so much of a dumbass after all.” She says dumbass with an exaggerated American accent.

  “Gonna let me in?”

  “Depends on what you want.”

  “I think you know.”

  She clamps her lips together, and gives me a small nod, standing aside to let me through.

  The first thing I lay eyes on is the fridge, covered in Amelia’s artwork. There are so many pictures of two stick people, one smaller than the other, hand in hand. All she seems to have had is her mother.

  “Do you want a coffee?” Delaney asks. “I was just making one.”

  “Sounds great.”

  “Amelia’s not here. She’s having a sleepover with a friend tonight and I’ve already dropped her off.”

  I nod. “It’s probably good that she’s not.”

  Delaney hesitates, then nods too. “Go through to the living room and I’ll bring you a coffee in a minute.”

  She points at a door, and I walk through to a cosy room which again is adorned with Amelia’s artwork. These must be the pictures that are special to her because there’s a wall full of framed pictures, with photos of the two of them in between.

  If my instincts are right, I missed all this, and I swallow hard just thinking about it.

  “How do you take it?” she calls. “Sorry, I can’t make you a latte. It’s instant.”

  “White, one sugar.”

  It’s a moment later that she walks through, coming to a stop beside me.

  “There are some beautiful photos here of the two of you.” I can’t stop looking. Amelia laughing with her mother, hugging her, kissing her—it’s all there.

  “This is our memory wall. Every so often, Amelia has a drawing that she’s worked extra hard on, and we hang it up.”

  “You need a bigger wall.” I smile as she hands me a mug.

  “One day.” She turns and sits on the sofa. I join her, looking around the rest of the room. Amelia’s everywhere, from the toy pile in the corner, to the discarded pink jacket on one of the chairs.

  I take a sip of coffee. “That hits the spot.”

  “Whoever thought. Josh Carter, Hollywood superstar, in my living room drinking instant coffee.”

  Shrugging, I smile. “Coffee is coffee. I’ve drunk far worse than this. I always did like the way you made it.”

  “This is pretty different to that old coffee machine I used to have to slap into submission.” She laughs. “Having a decent machine that didn’t need a kicking every day was one of my top priorities when I started the diner.”

  “Is it doing well? Your business, that is.”

  She nods. “We have a lot of local regulars, and pick up quite a bit of the tourist trade. It’s not huge, but it’s enough.”

  “I’m glad. Ever thought of extending your hours for visitors who want food in the evenings?” I shoot her a sly grin.

  With a shake of her head, she seems to study her coffee. “When Pania and I moved to open the diner, we realised there’s a way things are done around here. After five, the pub serves meals, and they don’t like anyone treading on their toes. We’re not staffed to run seven days either. It works.”

  “That’s a shame.”

  “Small towns are very difficult to change. But I could never have afforded to set up somewhere larger. The costs were just too prohibitive. And we love it here.”

  I place the cup on the coaster that sits on the coffee table, suddenly unsure about how to approach this. She must surely know I’m going to ask.

  There’s no point in beating around the bush.

  “Is she mine?”

  Delaney tries so hard not to give anything away, but it only takes a moment before her expression crumples. She places her cup on the table, closes her eyes. “Yes.”

  “You kept her from me?” Pain sears my body. All it took was a glimpse in the firelight of that little girl’s face and I knew. But there was still a part of me that thought there was no way Delaney would be capable of hiding her. Not when we’d had what I thought we did.

  “Why?”

  She buries her face in her hands and sobs. I’m right beside her with hot tears blurring my vision. Amelia is my blood. That sweet little girl who befriended me straight away is mine.

  “We were over.” She sniffs and raises her gaze. Her eyes are already red, and I’m torn between walking away and pulling her into my embrace to comfort her.

  Instead, I cross my arms to stop myself from touching her.

  “I don’t even understand that, Delaney. We fell in love, and we had one magical night that I never wanted to end. And then you were gone. I tried to find you, but I didn’t know what your real name was.”

  She wipes her cheeks with the palms of her hands. “You didn’t want me. And I tried to tell you. I tried to get in touch when I found out, but your phone was disconnected and the letter I sent came back return to sender.”

  I swallow hard. She’s right about that. When I got the part, I left behind the apartment and went home until filming started. I had no money until I got paid for the film, so disconnected everything, including the phone.

  She had no real way of getting in touch with me. Not directly. But that still doesn’t explain why she left.”

  “What do you mean I didn’t want you?” I ask.

  Delaney sniffs again, clamping her lips together like she’s fighting more tears.

  “I heard you.” Her voice is so small, I nearly miss the words.

  “What did you hear?”

  She looks everywhere but at me, and tears continue to roll down her cheeks. “You were on the phone. And you were making plans with someone else. It hurt so much, Josh. You used me to make someone else jealous and then—”

  “What the fuck are you talking about?” I take a deep breath, blowing it slowly out. “Sorry. You didn’t deserve that. I’ve just been mystified for all these years about why you left, and now …”

  “You said you were going to ditch me. That I was history.”

  Understanding hits me like a ton of bricks. I should have told her that morning what that phone call was about. She must have walked in at the wrong time.

  I pull out my phone. “I want you to see something.”

  She’s quiet as I navigate to Y
ouTube and pull up the clip I want.

  “Come here.” I grasp her arm and pull her around until she’s cradled against me. She doesn’t fight, and I wrap my arms around her, my chest to her back, and hold my phone in front of us.

  “What are you doing?”

  “You never saw any of my movies, right?”

  She shakes her head.

  “Not even my first one?”

  She shakes her head again, and I press play on the clip. I’m an undercover cop in the movie, who’s trying to find a way into a crime family. And I do it by making the daughter of the bad guy fall in love with me.

  And when I struggle at that last hurdle, I use another woman to make her jealous.

  Mission accomplished, she calls me.

  “Don’t worry about it. I’ll ditch the bitch and come to you. You know it’s always been you, baby.”

  Delaney stiffens in my arms, and I let the clip finish.

  I laugh. “She’s history.”

  I stop the clip.

  “Was that what you heard that morning?”

  She lets out a sob. I can’t be angry with her. How on earth would I have reacted if the shoe was on the other foot? I had no idea that morning when Mac called that I was so close to landing the part. That all they wanted was for me to run some of the lines in character with one of the actors I’d be working with.

  I’d already run through two scenes when I got to that part.

  “Oh, baby.” I turn her around in my arms and don’t wait for her to say anything in response. Wrapping her tightly, I stroke her head while she cries on my shoulder. What else can I do? She hurt as much as I did.

  “I screwed up.” She sobs.

  She pulls away. Her eyes are red-rimmed and all I want to do is make sure she never has to cry again. I was so in love with her six years ago, and seeing her again has woken up my heart.

  I cup her face. Her eyes search mine, and there’s no anger in me, only the sorrow over the life we could have had together.

  “What do we do now?” she asks.

  The day of that phone call was the day all my dreams came true. Except for one. The woman I wanted to share it all with disappeared. Delaney was my dream then, and I can’t deny that I have feelings for her now.

  Her lips twitch.

  I lean in and claim her mouth, my lips caressing hers. She lets out a whimper, and it spurs me on as she opens up and my tongue meets hers for the first time in six years. This is what we both need, what we always needed. She’s my one who got away, and I’m not making that mistake again.

  But the discovery we both just made about what happened six years ago has made any union between us so fragile that any attempt to push her right now might make it all collapse.

  I can’t stop myself from kissing her, and the way she slides her arms around my waist tells me she’s feeling the same way.

  The strokes of her tongue are tentative, mine forceful, and she falls the rest of the way back into my arms with a moan that rolls down to my toes.

  I close my eyes, not wanting this to end, and feeling like I’m righting a wrong that’s gone on far too long.

  When it does, I open my eyes and all I see is her. Her expression’s a mix of confusion and need—that aching need I have to the bone.

  “Josh,” she whispers.

  “Don’t know about you, but I needed that.” I press my forehead to hers. I should have done more. I should have chased her to the ends of the Earth to find out why she left.

  “It was … unexpected.” She has the softest laugh, but at least she’s not crying anymore. I don’t ever want to make her cry again.

  “You’re a part of me, and it doesn’t matter how long we’ve been apart, you burrowed into my heart a long time ago.” I straighten up. “I’ve been wanting to do that since I first saw you again. The second time.”

  A smile breaks through the sadness just for a moment before her eyes cloud over. “You should hate me.”

  I shake my head. “I could never hate you. I’m pissed that you didn’t stop to talk to me, or even confront me over it. And when you left, it killed me inside. We had something so special.”

  She drops her gaze, but I slide my index finger under her chin and raise her face until her eyes meet mine.

  “But I also can’t help the way I feel. I’ll give you the time and space to think about how to do this, but I want to see Amelia and get to know her. With you.”

  She swallows hard. All this time we both went through so much unnecessary pain. Her feelings of betrayal. My feelings of abandonment.

  We’ve already lost more time than we ever should have.

  “All I wanted that morning was for whatever the producers wanted to end so I could make breakfast and join you in bed. I hope you know that.”

  It’s small, but she nods. “I do now. I feel so foolish.”

  “If the roles were reversed, I’d have been devastated to hear that. No wonder you didn’t want anything to do with me.”

  “It hurt.” Those two words are all she gets out before she tears up again.

  “I swear I’ll never hurt you again.” The urge to kiss her is back, but I need to leave her to think over what’s just happened and make a decision about our daughter.

  She says nothing, but blinks a few times before giving me a gentle nod.

  “I’ll get going and give you some space.” I pause. “But I want you to know that the ball is completely in your court. Whatever you decide, I’ll go along with. You know our daughter better than I do.”

  I don’t mean that to sound bitter, but Delaney flinches and I take a breath to stop myself saying something else equally stupid. “Delaney, I didn’t mean anything bad by that. I’m trying.”

  She nods again. “I know.”

  I give her a tender kiss on the lips and stand up before I take it further. While I want nothing more than to drag her off to the bedroom and show her exactly how I feel, this isn’t the way to handle the situation.

  We can’t use sex to avoid the conversations that are no doubt to come.

  We need to take the time to decide our future together.

  “Come and find me when you work out what we’re doing. You know where I am.”

  I give her my number. She’s been to the house, and I’ll make sure she has access to the set.

  I’m not afraid that she won’t be able to contact me.

  Not this time.

  Seventeen

  Delaney

  When I was a little girl, my mother used to take me to church every Sunday.

  I haven’t been since I moved to town. I’m usually so tired by the end of the week, and I love my sleep-ins. But after a night of tossing and turning with next to no sleep last night—I feel so lost.

  I’m not sure if this is the right thing to do, but it can’t hurt.

  Pania gapes as I walk toward her pew and sit next to her. The service is about to start, and people are sitting quietly waiting.

  “What are you doing here?” she whispers. “I was always sure you’d burst into flames if you stepped into a church.”

  “I’m not a churchgoer, but that hardly makes me the antichrist.” I shrug. “I don’t know. I guess I’m just looking for some guidance.”

  She laughs, and at least a dozen heads whip ’round to give us dirty looks.

  “Are you okay?”

  I let out a sigh. “Josh showed up yesterday. He knows.”

  “Oh my God. What are you going to do?”

  “What can I do? He wants to spend time with her.”

  Pania nods. “I guess that’s natural.”

  “He wants to spend time with me too.”

  She squeezes my forearm so hard that I cry out. Those same people who gave us dirty looks before do it again. I give up.

  The minister steps up to the lectern.

  His eyes go straight to me, and I take a seat before I’m chastened. Not that he would. Would he? I mean, I know he usually comes in on the days we have seafood chowder, and tha
t hip flask in his pocket he uses as a little additive doesn’t contain holy water.

  The smile on his face is so awkward, and I guess it’s because I’ve never come into his territory before. I give him a polite smile in return and he seems to straighten up.

  “Good morning,” he says.

  That’s the point where I tune out.

  Now I’ve spoken to Pania about it, all I can think about is Josh’s request. I can understand him wanting to spend time with Amelia. But me? I made a big mistake not confronting him that day.

  With the arguments my parents had before my dad left echoing in my ears, I ran rather than confront him. And I’ve been running ever since. Maybe we settled in Glenderry, but it was partly because it was quiet and so far away from everything and everyone.

  I never thought Josh would find me.

  Love is patient. Love is kind …

  I look up at the broad wooden beams that make up the church roof and sigh. I’ve even managed to pick a week where all I feel is guilt from the text the minister’s reading. I don’t know what for. It’s not like I’ve done anything wrong.

  Melly’s never had her father in her life all because I mistook that phone call for the real thing. Josh is right—it’s not my fault, but knowing that doesn’t make me feel any better.

  Pania nudges my elbow. “Want to go out for a drink after this? Seeing as you don’t have to rush home?”

  I stare at her. “It’s not even eleven in the morning.”

  “It won’t kill you.”

  I nod. “Fine. Just one. As long as we can get something to eat too because I’m starving.”

  She smiles. “Of course.”

  “This was such a good idea.” I cut into a slice of beef and fork a piece of roast potato, moaning as I take in the flavour.

  “Told you. We should make a date for the Sunday roast more often. They start serving it from eleven.” She picks up a potato with her fork. “You don’t even have to come to church with me.”

  “I didn’t mind this morning.”

  She laughs. “You weren’t even paying attention. You’ve got Josh on the brain.”

  I sigh. “That’s hardly surprising.” Playing my bottom lip between my teeth, I study her for a moment. “He kissed me.”