by Karina Bliss
Viv didn’t answer until she was sure she wasn’t going to burst into tears. For long minutes she struggled with a lifetime of walking away as an escape from hurt and pain and things she really believed she couldn’t cope with.
“It goes back to the womb, Ross,” she finally rasped through a constricted throat. “She even blames me for making her malnourished, for God’s sake.” Her hand turned to tighten convulsively on his, then released. “I’m sorry, but I’ve got to protect myself.”
“At least you know,” he said.
“I’ll phone for a taxi outside.” Blindly, she wheeled her suitcase past him to the front door and opened it. “It’s been fun!”
Ross bent to kiss her goodbye and she moved her face so his lips brushed her cheek because she’d be a fool to make this harder than it already was. Which was why she wasn’t going near the children. Ross caught her in a hug so hard she thought he might crush her heart. “It’s okay,” he said. “I get it. Goodbye, Viv.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
OUTSIDE, SHE LEANED against the door and the tears she’d been holding in streamed silently down her cheeks like warm rain. A small yip at her feet made her look down. Salsa peered up in the dark. She half laughed, half sobbed. “At least I’m making someone’s day by leaving.” The schnoodle whined. “Go ahead—” Viv used the end of her scarf to wipe away tears “—escort me off the premises. I expect you’re dying to.”
Salsa sat down and presented his paw. Trust him to be a sucker for a distressed female. A sob escaped her. “Don’t you dare start being friendly now!”
Wheeling the suitcase down the front path, she closed the gate on the schnoodle, sat on her suitcase and called a cab. “Go away,” she said, trying to ignore Salsa’s whine for attention through the gate. “It’s too late.”
The dog barked. Ross would come out at this rate and Viv didn’t want him to see her a blubbering mess. “Fine, you can wait with me but I am not patting you.” As she opened the gate she glanced at the house, but there was no one at the lit windows, no one having second thoughts about stopping her doing this.
All week, the guy had been only too happy to give her the black and white and lay down the law. Now when she wanted someone, anyone, to point her in the right direction, he’d been reasonable and left the decision to her.
Keeping a tight grip on Salsa’s collar, Viv returned to her perch on the suitcase and wished the taxi would hurry up. Maybe Sanjay would be driving. Don’t think of it as running away from your problems, think of it as running toward new opportunities.
But the words rang hollow. When had she let these people sink their hooks into her? Salsa whimpered and she started crying again. “Doesn’t Merry realize that by alienating me she’ll have to shoulder the blame alone?” She demanded. “Suffer the consequences alone?” Salsa barked and she averted her face. “Not my problem,” she told him.
Are you sure it’s unfixable? Merry doesn’t think so. “Anyway, Merry’s olive branch isn’t about me, she only cares about Charlie finding out. Well, she should have thought about that before she called me Hurricane! God, I hate that nickname.”
“Hurricane lives in her own world and it’s not the real one.”
“Our Hurricane Viv’s like Mr. Magoo…blind to risk.”
“Don’t trust Hurricane with anything you don’t want lost or broken.”
All said with great humor and affection. And all true—until she turned twelve and grew up a bit.
Unfortunately by then her parents had gotten into the habit of giving Dan and Merry responsibility for anything that mattered. With a 550-hectare beef and sheep farm to run, they didn’t have the luxury of a margin of error.
Salsa nudged her hand and she gave in and patted him, running her fingers through the feathery coat.
Until she went to boarding school at fifteen, Viv had honestly thought her unreliability was some kind of congenital condition that couldn’t be cured. Then she discovered teachers who didn’t know her history actually had expectations of her.
“In a family crisis,” she told Salsa, “Dan is still first call, then Merry.” He licked her hand with a warm, rough tongue. She was never expected to provide practical or emotional assistance and it was turned down when she did. So Viv stopped offering. Pulled back, pretended she didn’t care.
In her twenties that had been easy. Why take on the burden of care with an international career to build? But on the cusp of thirty she was tired of being left out of the loop. Dan, Merry, Mum and Dad—they’d all experienced personal crises over the past year. Not one of them had called on her for support. And that hurt. Coming home had been a conscious effort to change the script, and discovering her competent twin in dire need had seemed a heaven-sent opportunity.
“So much for that.” She fondled Salsa’s ears. Within twelve hours she’d catapulted herself straight into a situation that reinforced her childhood reputation. “I wanted to make up for not being the sister she needed.” Wearily, she laid her head on the dog’s warm coat. “But don’t worry. Ross will clean up my mess.”
Only, who would clean up after Ross when it finally hit home that he’d never be deployed again? He’d cold-shouldered her brother and Charlie couldn’t see past his hero worship. Nate was on another continent.
She stood as the cab arrived, the taxi light a beacon.
The cabbie wound down his window. “Sorry, lady, we don’t take dogs.”
Viv realized she was gripping Salsa’s collar. That she couldn’t seem to let go.
How much does resolving this matter to you? Damn Ross. Even his non-judgment was judgment. Talking as though she was capable of making a different choice when they both knew she was Roadrunner through and through. Where was beating his head against a brick wall getting him? Nowhere.
But he hadn’t given up.
“Lady? Did you hear what I said?”
She looked at the driver helplessly. “I think I’ve changed my mind.”
He grumbled, so she gave him a few dollars, then picked up her suitcase and let the dog through the gate. It clanged shut behind her like a prison cell’s door.
Inside she flung the suitcase away so that it toppled with a dramatic bang, then realized there was no one to hear it. The room was empty.
Ross hadn’t even waited until she left before moving on. Viv raced to the window in time to see the taxi’s red taillights flicker out like the bulbs of a Christmas tree as it rounded the corner.
“You came back.”
She spun around to see him at the top of the stairs.
“Obviously I can’t leave now that you’ve made me feel it would be a cop-out.” She cloaked her panic under an accusation. “So congratulations, you’re stuck with me a bit longer.”
“Okay.”
She put her hands on her hips. “And frankly I can’t believe you were prepared to just let me go like that. It’s completely irresponsible. Haven’t those kids suffered enough disruption? Did you forget that Tilly’s game is tomorrow and neither of her parents are going to be there? Not to mention I’m the coach.”
“Aren’t I the new coach?”
“Assistant coach. Don’t get ideas.”
“I’m sorry,” he said meekly. He came down the stairs and the light caught his dimple.
“This isn’t funny, Ross. I hate my twin right now and I have no idea how this will turn out or where we go from here.”
“We still have another two days before Charlie gets home. We’ll come up with something.”
“And if you expect me to apologize to my sister then think again. Make sure you tell Merry that.”
“I just got off the phone after telling her you were leaving.”
“Couldn’t wait to break the good news, huh?”
“She phoned me.”
Viv resisted the urge to ask what she’d said. “Well, you can ring her back and say I might still be here but I’m not speaking to her until I receive an apology.”
“How can she give you an apology if
you won’t talk to her?”
“She can write one, email one…Tweet it or post it on Facebook. Yes, Facebook. I demand a grovel through a public forum.”
He smiled at her and Viv suddenly realized the magnitude of what she’d taken on by staying. Her legs gave way. She sank onto the couch, more scared than she’d ever been in her life. She didn’t just leave before people relied on her too much. Viv looked at Ross. She left before she relied on them.
“I should have gone,” she said. “You could have fixed this…you or Dan. And the kids don’t really need me. Harry’s baby brain would have forgotten me in a couple of days. And Tilly’s going to turn off my life support when I’m an old lady, and have my body converted to bio fuel.”
Ross laughed.
“She’s your next of kin, too,” she reminded him.
“Look on the bright side,” he suggested. “At least we get to have sex again.”
“You don’t decide that,” she cautioned. “I do. And frankly I don’t enjoy being taken for granted. Where’s the gratitude, where’s the reverence? Take a number and stand in line, buddy.”
Still, he smiled. “I see how this works. You’ve had your way with me and I’m no longer a challenge. So you’re casting me aside like that poor bastard Jean Paul.”
“You knew the score,” she blustered.
He sat beside her and stretched an arm along the couch. “And what if I’m not ready to be cast aside?”
An anticipatory shiver went up Viv’s spine at the delicious contrast between the lazy drawl and the glint in his eyes.
She’d gotten so accustomed to Ross resisting her that she hadn’t considered what would happen if he decided he wanted her. And of course, she realized with a thrill of dismay, he had decided. Last night.
Okay, this had to stop now. “I don’t want to fall in love with you,” she said baldly. “And if we keep going like this there’s a risk I might.” It was painful admitting the truth, but the alternative—heartbreak—was worse. He recoiled almost imperceptibly, but enough to confirm her survival instincts were spot-on.
“I can’t consider a serious relationship at the moment,” he said. “My focus is resurrecting my career.”
“I know I’m not a priority,” she said. “I’m not asking to be.”
“And you live on the other side of the world.”
Where there’s a will there’s a way.
He grew unnerved by her silence. “And you’re as career-focused as I am,” he reminded her.
That didn’t preclude a life.
Viv put them both out of their misery. “Ross, we don’t need to have this conversation, because I already get it. I hold the world record for speed dating, remember? So we’re pulling back and no harm done.”
She walked him to the door. “Will you phone Merry for me?” she asked. “I can’t talk to her tonight. I’ll visit her in the morning. And ask her for her sitter’s number…I’m guessing you’ve had enough of the kids?”
“I have something on in the morning. I’ll meet you at soccer after school. Say, thirty minutes early for a warm-up?”
“Sounds good.”
They ran out of small talk and stared at each other. She knew the scent of him now, the taste, the warmth. And he was out of bounds.
With a nod, he walked to his car.
And that, thought Viv, was that.
IN THE END VIV TOOK the kids with her to visit Merry. It seemed odd to consider them a civilizing influence but at the very least their presence would remind the adults to behave like grown-ups. And she and Merry would have something to look at instead of each other. A mirror image was the last thing she needed when she felt bruised by Merry, and confused about Ross.
She sent the human shields in first. Tilly charged into the room yelling, “Surprise!” while Harry made a beeline for the levers on the hospital bed frame that he’d discovered last visit. Merry wasn’t there.
“She’s getting a new cast,” said the ward sister, a thin middle-aged woman with the name tag Florence. “Which is just as well or I wouldn’t be able to tell you apart.” She swept a jaundiced eye over the children. “I don’t want them wrecking the room.”
“That’s okay, I can supervise,” said Viv.
“I doubt that.” Florence folded sinewy arms over her starched uniform. “I hear every time you show up there’s a verbal skirmish and I’m telling you straight, there’ll be none of that on my shift.” She picked up her clipboard. “Who’s picking your twin up tomorrow?” Merry had been in hospital for so long she was well enough not to need an ambulance transfer.
“Our brother, Dan Jansen,” said Viv. After dropping Merry in Auckland, Dan intended to head to Ross’s beach house. He’d had enough, he said, of being ignored. Viv was staying out of that one.
Florence made a note on her clipboard. “Not too early,” she warned. “Mrs. Coltrane can’t be discharged until after the surgeon makes his rounds.”
“I’ll let Dan know.” Viv glanced nervously down the corridor. Still no sign of Merry. “How nice to have a name that fits your profession,” she said, trying to fill time. “Is your surname Nightingale?”
The other woman didn’t so much as flicker an eyelid. “It’s Hore.”
“C’mon, kids, let’s get out of Florence’s hair.”
They went and waited in the room, which smelled of freesias and disinfectant and scrambled eggs. Tilly started to fret. “Mum can’t be too long. We can’t be late for the game.” The whole drive she’d been torn between joy at a reunion and anxiety they wouldn’t make it back for kickoff at two.
“I’ll allow plenty of time, I promise…hey…look who’s here!”
Merry was wheeled in by a young male orderly, leg stretched out in a new cast.
“Mum.” Tilly raced over and hugged her mother, while Harry tried to clamor awkwardly onto her lap. “Surprise! Are you surprised?”
Merry’s eyes filled as she gathered her children close. “Oh, you both feel so good. Yes, honey, I’m surprised. It’s so great to see you.” She looked nervously over at Viv. The atmosphere thickened like an Atlantic fog.
“Wow,” said the Maori orderly. “You have an identical twin, how cool is that!”
“Iv,” said Harry helpfully.
“Did you hear that, Mum?” Tilly tugged on Merry’s hospital gown. “Harry can say lots of new words. Go on, Harry, say other stuff.”
The baby looked at the smiling stranger behind the wheelchair and buried his head in his mother’s lap.
“Say ‘Ross’…say ‘car,’” Tilly coaxed. “He can, Mum, honest. C’mon, Harry!”
The toddler lifted his head. “Iv,” he repeated.
“Iv, that means Viv,” Tilly explained. She crouched beside her brother. “But you’re not supposed to call her Iv, Harry, you’re supposed to call her Mummy.”
Viv and Merry’s eyes met briefly and then Merry concentrated on stroking her baby’s head. The puzzled orderly looked at Viv. “Shall we get my sister resettled?” she suggested brightly.
Tilly inspected the cast after he’d gone. “When can we sign it?” she demanded.
“When it’s properly hardened. Give me another hug, it’s so good to see you. But why are you wearing your soccer boots?”
“We’re going to the field after this and I wanted to be ready in case we run out of time. But I haven’t put my shin pads in yet, that would be silly.” Viv could only marvel at her niece’s sudden loquaciousness. She’d obviously missed her mum. Tilly paused for breath. “Are those chocolates yours? Can I have one?”
Harry forgot about cuddles and hugs with Mummy. “Me!”
“Just one, Til, then hide them where your brother can’t see them.”
Viv saw her opportunity. “Tilly, why don’t you and Harry go offer them to the nurses at reception.” Tilly loved playing Lady Bountiful. “I need a private word with your mum.”
“Not to the mean one,” Tilly said decidedly. “C’mon, Harry.” He looked at the chocolates she cradl
ed and didn’t protest when his big sister grabbed his hand. Viv waited until their footsteps faded and took a deep breath.
“I’m sorry.” They said it at the same time, smiled and said, “Snap,” then smiled again. It broke some of the awful tension. But not all of it.
“We both said some pretty harsh things last night,” Viv began tentatively.
Merry waved that aside. “Let’s just forgive and forget,” she suggested. For an instant, Viv was tempted. But then nothing would change.
And it had to change.
“You were right,” she said, “I hate being a twin.” Merry’s smile grew fixed. “But it wasn’t about pushing you away. It was about avoiding comparisons. You sailed serenely from home to school to community, leaving no wake.” She pulled a face. “Extreme water-skiers only dream on my kind of wake. Whenever I looked at you, I could see the person I should be…and how far I fell short—no matter how hard I tried.”
There was a short silence. “It hurt, Viv,” Merry said finally. “Particularly when we went to boarding school and you got caught up with new friends and new projects and I hardly ever saw you. I was so homesick I used to cry myself to sleep every night.”
Viv moved to the side of the bed. “I didn’t know that.”
“I didn’t want you to. I was ashamed that I couldn’t embrace boarding school as the great new adventure you did. I wanted home and Mum and Dad and knowing everyone again and being safe…. Pathetic, huh?” Merry fiddled with a loose thread on her new cast.
“But now you’re strong and independent and successful,” Viv insisted. When her sister shook her head, she added with a touch of impatience, “I’ve lived your life, Mere, I’ve seen how much you do. How many people rely on you.”
Merry yanked the thread on her cast free. “I thought about what Charlie said to you all last night.”
“I shouldn’t have criticized your marriage.”
“No, but you did.” She stopped playing with the thread. “When my marriage started going stale I tried to show Charlie I was indispensable, that no one could do things as well as me. Except it backfired. He wanted to spend less time with me, not more, which only pushed my panic button because I’d already gone down that road…with you.” Her eyes were full of painful uncertainty. “What’s wrong with me, Viv, that the people I love outgrow me?”