by Shirley Wine
"And you didn't think I needed to know this?"
"Of course you needed to know it and I'm sorry you had to hear it from Sonia."
"She came to see me at the clinic, told me you asked her to visit."
"As if? And I expressly forbade her to come here and upset you. Marriage to Moreno and a shift to Argentina is the best thing for her. She can well afford to fly over to visit them or have them visit her," he said, pulling Veronica back against him. "And to be honest, I'd put the problem of Andreas and Katya on the back burner. Katya can't start at Royden until after the summer recess and it makes no sense to shift Andreas, mid-term."
"And you've been too worried about Jordan?" A slow breath leaked from her lungs as she rested her head back on his shoulder.
His explanation made sense without any of Sonia's embellishments.
He nodded, closing his eyes on a harsh sigh as his grip on her tightened. "I have at that."
"He's sleeping?"
Leon nodded, the hands on her shoulders tightening. "The chemo knocks him down and each time it seems to take him longer to come back."
She turned in his arms and he held her close, his face buried in the cove of her neck. And the problems of his involvement with his niece and nephew became secondary. "He's a fighter, Leon, and he knows I'm here to help him."
"Seeing you buoyed up his spirits." His grey gaze met hers in the mirror. "Have you thought any more about marrying me?"
Veronica sighed softly. "I'm thinking."
Leon bent his head and lifted her face. His eyes glittered, his hand gentled on her shoulder, as his thumb caressed the corner of her lips. Veronica didn't know what he saw when he looked at her. Perhaps it was the years of suppressed hunger, the yearning.
At that moment she didn't care. She was where she wanted to be.
He tipped her head and covered her mouth with his in a demanding, explicit kiss. And then she was free.
"You keep thinking," he said softly. "I need to go back to Jordan. Feel free to explore the house."
With an expansive gesture of his hand, he was gone.
Veronica stood in the centre of the room, fingers on her lips, wanting to retain the warmth of his kiss.
~***~
Unsettled by Sonia's visit and Leon's fleeting appearance, Veronica decided she'd take him at his word and explore Claremont. She walked down the wide corridor and went upstairs. She'd never been in this part of the house and was curious. She always known the house was big.
She was wrong. It was huge.
Jordan and Leon had to rattle around in this much space? Heck ten children, and all their friends, would hardly fill up this mansion.
On the landing she opened doors. There was only one room she wanted to find. Jordan's room.
Not the ornate bedroom where Julia's perfume still lingered, not the library with its book lined walls nor the newly added conservatory. None of those rooms mattered.
Jordan's room must be on the ground floor. Nothing up here suggested either Jordan or Leon used these rooms, the whole floor held the still, sullen air of disuse.
Veronica returned downstairs, to the older wing of the homestead.
This late in the afternoon, daylight barely penetrated the dim passage, the half panelled walls made it even darker. She opened each door she came to.
At last she found her objective and for a few moments Veronica hesitated, sucking in a shaky breath.
This room belonged to a child.
Her child.
And in the moment, Veronica knew her thoughts had suffered a seismic shift. Jordan was no longer a vague entity. He was now a child, with features she could identify.
And in a moment of perspicacity, she knew she could never go back.
But am I ready to go forward?
She hovered in the bedroom doorway, absorbing every detail. Dirt-bike posters, photographs, toys, play station. And that suddenly, the sense of wellbeing Leon's presence engendered, evaporated.
This room held the essence of Jordan's life, the things that interested him.
Veronica's hungry eyes skimmed over a bookcase crammed with books, photographs, painstakingly crafted models of trucks and motorbikes were cheek by jowl with brightly coloured Lego models. A child size helmet in red and black with a fluorescent white zigzag on the side was looped over one corner of the bedhead, the walls were covered in posters of motorbikes, dirt-bikes and monster trucks.
Ten years of her child's life had passed without her having one single memory. And no matter how she wished it otherwise, those years were gone. Now, Leon was giving her the choice to change this, to become close to her child. Was she brave, or perhaps that should be foolhardy enough to accept.
She walked across to the bed, sat down and stroked an unsteady hand across the motorbike printed duvet, the bright colours blurring before her eyes. A blink brought the dirt-bike posters into focus. She tried to imagine the weak, ill child in that hospital bed riding a dirt-bike, but the image wouldn't jell.
Anguish twisted her heart, would Jordan ever use this bed again?
While the loss of memories was painful, the thought of Jordan losing his battle with the disease ravishing his young body was unbearable.
Anguish brought her to her feet.
Restless and unsettled, Veronica roamed, touching books, models, things her child had touched, an action that hurt something deep inside her. On the painted bookshelves was an array of photographs, Jordan with Julia and Leon.
Her hand trembled as she picked them up and studied them. Her gaze lingered on one of Jordan astride a horse on a merry-go-round, his face split from ear to ear with a huge grin.
His likeness to Leon was uncanny.
She traced a finger over Jordan's square cut jaw, the shape of his forehead, but his eyes. A sigh leaked from her. Jordan has my eyes and my grin.
She had an album of photos Kathleen had taken and there were several with the same gap-toothed grin. And for the first time since she'd come into this room, Veronica smiled.
Yannis had left his imprint on their son, but then so had she.
Pain, so exquisite, had her balling her fist and holding it in the hollow of her chest between her breasts. This was the child who'd grown under her heart, the child she'd loved with every fibre of her love starved heart.
And this healthy, fun loving boy was now the desperately sick child she saw imprinted on her eyelids every time she closed her eyes.
With great care she replaced the photo on the shelf.
Next to it was a portrait of Julia.
Veronica picked it up, studying it closely.
Julia's flawless beauty was as she remembered. Now, maturity enabled Veronica to see the determined chin, the upper lip that thinned in anger, and the hard, blue eyes.
The sensation of no longer being alone made her turn. Leon stood in the doorway watching her. Her heart stopped and then raced.
"Jordan?"
"He's sleeping." He rubbed a hand down his face. "The chemo really knocks the stuffing out of him."
He walked into the room and sat on the end of Jordan's bed, a big hand smoothing over the motorbike printed duvet. "He was so excited when we found this doona."
"Doona?"
"You Kiwis call them duvets."
"Jordan likes bikes?" Veronica sat down on the opposite end of the bed.
He gave a shaky chuckle. "He's motorbike mad. His dream is to own a Harley."
"And your nightmare," she said shrewdly.
"And some." Another rusty chuckle escaped. "Now, if it would ensure he got well, I'd gladly buy him two Harleys."
She put her hand over his. "No you wouldn't. You care too much for his welfare to put him on a bike that's far too powerful for him."
"You're right of course." He looked at her and something in his expression made her heart race. "What have you decided, Veronica."
Suddenly her throat was dry and she had difficulty meeting his steady gaze, her restless hand smoothed a patch of duvet. She st
ood and walked across to the crowded bookshelf and pulled out a volume, and then another.
Horror stories sat alongside model manuals and well-worn favourites like Goosebumps. She flipped open the cover of Huckleberry Finn and read the inscription in what was obviously a child's handwriting: Leon Karvasis.
"This was yours?" She traced a finger over the spine seeking something—anything— to help her understand the man watching her with such unnerving intensity.
"Yes. I too, was once a boy and like Jordan, I loved to read."
She looked at him trying to imagine this strong, vital man as a boy and her imagination came up hopelessly short. She stroked the book cover.
"You look surprised."
"Not really." She glanced at him and shrugged and then went with her first thoughts. "After all I know very little about you. And it's obvious you don't know me at all."
Silence settled and she risked a glance and found him watching her with brooding concentration. "And what you do know you don't like very much."
That comment startled her but she just shrugged. It was true enough.
They barely knew each other. And to consider marriage when the only bond they shared was a ten year old child was surely little short of lunacy.
She was no longer seventeen with stars in her eyes and a head full of dreams.
At twenty-seven, she understood the pitfalls in an arrangement such as the one he was suggesting. Sure the sex was great. But marriage was so much more than great sex. She glanced at him again but gleaned nothing. His face was closed and as unreadable as always.
Putting the book back, she pulled out another, opened it and her breath caught in her chest. Inside was scrawled Yannis Karvasis. What had Yannis been like as a child? "Does Jordan know that Yannis is his father?"
Leon stiffened and stood up, taking a step towards her. "I am Jordan's father. Make no mistake about that. A few sperm cells don't make a father."
The emphasis he placed on those words hit her like a slap in the face. So what does that say about me?
For long minutes she stood, head bent, smoothing her hand over the worn binding, trying to bring Yannis's face into focus. To her dismay, she couldn't recall one, single detail.
"Let me put it another way." She lifted her head and looked directly at Leon, needing an honest answer. "Does Jordan know of Yannis's role in his life?"
He was silent so long she thought he wasn't going to answer. Veronica was filled with dread. What had Julia and Leon told Jordan about her and Yannis?
"He knows," Leon said at last.
"Knows what exactly?"
A harsh sigh escaped Leon and he raked a hand through his hair leaving it dishevelled. "After Sonia gave him a twisted version of his biological parentage, I decided he needed to hear the truth."
Her heart pounded at the base of her throat, and she found it difficult to breathe. "And what was your truth, Leon?"
Leon rose from the bed and crossed the space, caught her chin in one hand and lifted it. Something in his gaze made blood pound at the base of her throat.
"I told Jordan you were his mother and you were too young to be able care for him."
"And his father?"
"That was more difficult," he conceded quietly. "Sonia's filled her kids' heads with vitriol and Jordan's always played with his cousins."
"His half-brother and half-sister."
"Yes. And this past year, since he became ill, he's finally understood this."
Veronica didn't know whether this explanation made her feel better or worse. She pulled out another book and then slotted it back on the shelf, keeping restless fingers busy.
And then she saw it, a threadbare brown teddy tucked into a cubby hole in the bookshelf.
"Jordan still has this?" The words suddenly seemed over-loud. "This is the bear I bought for him."
"One and the same." Leon crossed the space and laid a hand on her shoulder. "It's always been his favourite."
"I stopped on the way to the airport and bought it for him." She dashed a hand across her cheek to swipe away an errant tear. "I wasn't sure he would ever get it?"
"Was that why you dropped it off at my office?"
Veronica nodded, picking the bear up and cradling it against her cheek. "I knew if I sent it to Claremont, Julia would make certain Jordan never saw it."
Air hissed from his lungs. "That's so harsh, Veronica. Julia wasn't vindictive."
He looked away¸ thrusting his hands in his pockets.
"Harsh maybe, but true." She stroked the teddy's worn fur. "I had just enough of my own money to pay for him."
That brought his gaze back to her, his frown dark. "And that was important to you. Why?"
Veronica looked up at him and shook her head at his lack of understanding. "The money you gave me was blood money."
He expelled another loud, hissing breath. She didn't need to look at him to know he was angry.
"Blood money!" He stalked closer until she could touch him if she wanted to. "How was it blood money?"
Veronica clutched the bear a little tighter. "It was money I accepted in exchange for my child, Leon. To my mind that makes it blood money."
"If that's a sample of your warped thinking I'm not surprised you never saw the need to come and see Jordan."
Veronica looked at him shaking her head. "God, you didn't expect much did you?"
He caught her shoulders, fingers digging into flesh. "I expected you to keep in touch, to visit, to watch your child grow up. So Jordan would gain a sense of his roots."
"Really?"
A ruddy flush seeped up under his tan at her sarcasm. "Meaning?"
"And had I come back, would you have even noticed Julia's hostility?" She challenged, looking him straight in the eye. "Or would have you only have seen what you wanted to see, Leon. Where Julia is concerned, you were selectively blind."
"And you, Veronica, need to get rid of that chip you're carrying around on your shoulder."
Veronica placed the teddy on the bed and smoothed the wrinkles out of the duvet where they'd been sitting. "And you need to open your eyes, Leon. And take off the blinders."
For long, grim moments they stared at each other, neither prepared to give an inch. He was first to look away. He rubbed a hand around the back of his neck. "I have to go into the office tonight for a staff meeting."
"And?"
He stepped closer, lifted her chin, and looked at her, his eyes narrowed to glittering slits, before he bent his head and kissed her.
He took his time demanding her response.
And, to her absolute chagrin, she couldn't prevent her response to his blatant sexuality. When he lifted his head she felt as if she was on fire.
"Happy decision making, don't wait up for me, darling, I'll be late." On that mocking salutation, he turned on his heel and walked out and shut the door.
Restless and unsettled and not willing to explore further, Veronica walked back to the lounge room.
If she didn't talk this out with someone, she would go crazy.
On the verge of seeking out Cassie, she paused. No way could she discuss this with Leon's housekeeper. On impulse she picked up the phone, punched in a number and it was answered on the second ring.
"This had better be good," Tania snarled through the receiver.
Startled, Veronica looked at the clock and swore under her breath. With the time difference it was well after midnight in Auckland. It didn't take a rocket scientist to guess what she'd interrupted. "Sorry Tania, I never realized it was so late."
"Vic?"
"Yeah, it's me." She rubbed a hand around the back of her neck.
"What's wrong?" Her friend sounded far more conciliatory and alert. "How's your boy?"
"He's desperately ill, Tania," she said, the words catching on a sob.
In the background she heard a man's voice. Milas? And she knew she'd interrupted her friend sharing an intimate moment with her lover.
"Can you donate bone marrow?"
&
nbsp; "Yes, we're a good match," Veronica's breath hitched on another sob. "But even that may not be enough to save his life. A transplant isn't a miracle cure for the strain of leukaemia Jordan has, even if he surmounts the hurdle of rejection."
Veronica was surprised at how quickly she'd become accustomed to the medical terminology surrounding Jordan's illness. There was a small silence.
"I'm so sorry. Is there nothing else that can be done?"
Veronica took a deep breath and the words came tumbling out. "There is a new therapy."
"Are they going to try it? Is it dangerous?"
"It depends on what you class as dangerous," Veronica gave a strangled laugh. "Some would think it's suicidal."
"Vic? Tell me?" Veronica held the phone away from her ear when Tania's shrieked.
"Calm down, Tania. Let your friend speak."
That was Milas.
"You have the phone on speaker?"
"Yes. Do you object?" Milas growled through the receiver. "If you want to be private, I'll go into the next room."
"No it's okay," Veronica said after a moment. Tania would only tell Milas after they finished talking.
"So what's this new therapy?" Milas asked and Veronica recognised a similar authority in his voice to the one Leon had in his.
"It involves the harvesting and freeze storing the stem cells in umbilical cord blood," Veronica said quietly clenching her fist.
There was a pregnant pause.
"We're talking umbilical cord blood as in the cord blood from a new born baby?" Tania asked her voice too quiet, too even.
"Yes."
"And not just any baby? Whose baby are we talking about?"
"Leon has asked me to marry him and have his baby."' The words tumbled out one after the other. "The stem cells in cord blood of a maternal sibling will generate healthy bone marrow cells and give Jordan a seventy-five per cent chance of a complete cure."
There was a stunned silence on the end of the phone.
"Are you out of your freaking mind, Veronica?" Tania's voice rose with each word. "You have to be insane to even consider it. Tell me you're not going to do it."