As Susie took the casserole from the oven, she turned and saw James leaning against the door jamb, silently watching them both. “It’s just beef casserole. No frills.”
“Smells great. And I’m sure it’ll taste great too.”
“Susie’s cooking is always good. Pete reckons her cooking is better than The Lodge.”
“Is that so?”
She sat down, the wooden chair scraping against the bare floor boards. “Last night at the Lodge, the service wasn’t normal. If our other waitress’s mother hadn’t been sick, the service would have been top notch, as usual.”
“I’m sure it would have been,” he said smoothly. “I hope her mother is better now?”
“Yes,” she said slightly mollified. “Much better.”
“That’s good. It bodes well for dinner tomorrow night then.”
She glared at him. She knew what he was saying. You can’t run a restaurant on a shoe-string staff. And he was right.
“So, Tom, tell me about school. What do you enjoy most?”
“Soccer.”
James grinned. “Not Science, or English or Math then?”
Tom pulled a face and hastily looked at Susie. “It’s not that I don’t like them. Just that, well soccer’s real fun. We play at lunch—”
“I hope you eat the lunches your aunt packs for you,” Susie said.
“I eat that at morning tea. I buy chips for lunch.”
Susie shook her head in despair. “Tom’s an eating machine.”
“So I see.” James smiled. “You’re going to be tall, like your father?”
Tom shrugged his angular shoulders and looked at Susie. “Was Dad tall, Susie?”
Color filled her cheeks. “Yes.” She jumped up to fill a glass of water. “Anyone else like a glass of water?” She let the water run as she gripped the edge of the butler’s sink, willing James not to continue that line of conversation.
She heard a chair scrape behind her and he was beside her. She turned to him warily. His eyes were full of questions. But, instead, he held out a glass. “That would be fine… For now.”
She knew she wasn’t going to escape without a grilling. But not while Tom was there.
After dinner Susie insisted on doing the washing up, a job that was usually Tom’s. She didn’t want to risk being alone with James, didn’t want him asking questions she’d prefer not to answer. The past had been traumatic enough without revisiting it.
There was a shout from the living room. Susie edged towards the open door, making sure she kept to the shadows. The soft glow from the sidelights revealed a scene that nearly made her cry out. She raised her fist to her mouth and watched as Tom and James concentrated hard on a board game, at which it appeared Tom was winning. They sat cross-legged on the floor, their absorbed faces looking up from time to time trying to catch each other out, hands reaching out to the board to move their pieces. Then a whoop of glee from Tom again.
“I own it! With hotels! $2,000 please, James.” He held out his hand triumphantly as James was forced to resort to the dwindling pile of $10s and $1s.
“You are a hard opponent.”
“Well, you should have put a hotel on Mayfair when you had the chance.”
James grinned and rolled the dice.
How likely was it that James wouldn’t have put a hotel on such an expensive property, Susie wondered. He was obviously going easy on Tom. But then, James had always been like that hadn’t he? Gentle, kind and always sensitive to the needs of others. Other people beside herself, obviously.
“And you reckon you’re not good at this game? I’d hate to play you at soccer, something you reckon you are good at.”
Tom knelt up in his excitement. “Let’s have a game of soccer tomorrow. Yeah?”
James looked across to where Susie thought she was standing undetected.
“No. I’m sure James”—she emphasized his given name—“has other plans. He’s only here for a few days.”
He pushed himself off the floor. “No, no plans. That would be great.”
“Choice! Soccer it is. And you can come to our picnic. We’re sailing round to the bay. Can’t he, Mum?” Her young son’s brows suddenly furrowed as he realized he might be asking something she didn’t want to happen.
It broke her heart to see how he’d taken to James, how starved of male company he was. Pete did his best but he had another life, away from the island, and now his focus had switched further afield, to the Mackenzie Country. Tom was of an age where he really responded to men, where he needed a man’s solid guidance. But she couldn’t allow him to get close to James who’d be gone within days. It would be too painful to watch Tom wondering why James hadn’t called, just as she had all those years ago.
She stepped into the light, strengthened by the reminder and shook her head. “No, I’m sure James has other plans. He won’t want to come out with us.” She shot James a warning look. “Will you, James?”
“Actually, I would. I can’t think of anything I’d like better.”
“Really?” She said archly. “Cold sausage rolls, potato chips—”
“Salt and vinegar?”
“Yes!” Tom shouted.
“Love them,” added James.
“Meat paste sandwiches—”
“Paste?” asked James faintly.
“Paste,” she replied firmly. “Tom’s favorite. Probably with a sprinkling of sand because you know how that gets everywhere.”
“Indeed.”
Susie grimaced at James’s wicked smile. “And lemonade. Probably flat by the time we get there.”
“Cold gritty food and flat lemonade. My favorites.”
Tom gave James a high five. “And soccer.”
“It’ll be a perfect day, then.”
“And night,” added Susie, saving her big guns until last. “Didn’t Tom tell you? We’re camping under the stars tomorrow night.” It took Susie all her self-control not to laugh out loud at how quickly James’s face fell. James had only gone camping with her once when they were barely into their teens and had sworn never to do it again. And she had no doubt that he’d kept to that. Until now.
“Camping.” He took a deep intake of breath. “Well… camping. That…”
“Will be brilliant!” finished off Tom, who could scarcely contain his excitement.
James nodded as if urging himself on to some kind of enthusiasm. “Yes. Yes, it will.”
“Hot drink before you go?” Susie smiled sweetly, enjoying James’s discomfort. She wanted James off the island, didn’t she? Well, what better way than to show him how utterly unable he would be to fit in here.
James stood up and stretched. “Thank you but no. I’d better get going. I think I’ll need a good night’s sleep.”
“To make up for the one you’re not going to get tomorrow night?”
“Exactly.”
“Yes, he will get a good night’s sleep tomorrow, Susie. We always sleep well outside. It’ll be great, James. The weather’s clear, we can look at the stars and tell stories.”
Susie made a mistake then, of looking at James. There was nothing between their gaze except memories: memories of a time when the two of them had been young and innocent and had lain side by side in the sweet grasses of the high Mackenzie Country and watched as the long dusk had given way to a night sky full of stars. They’d taken it in turns to talk about their dreams, their hopes, their stories.
“Oh…” Susie gasped and turned away abruptly, scared James would see how much the poignant memory affected her.
“We’ll be leaving early because of the tide. Will you go swimming? How about cricket? Did you play cricket when you were young?” Tom continued to bombard James with questions and Susie slipped away, unable to face James again.
She grabbed a tea towel and began drying up the dishes. She looked out the small kitchen window, pushed open to catch the warm evening breeze, and focused on the silhouette of the swaying grasses, charcoal grey against the black night sky.<
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“Good night then, Susie, and thanks for dinner.” James’s voice was gentle, as if he, too, hadn’t been able to easily shed the mantle of memories that stirred feelings long repressed. She didn’t turn around.
“Goodnight. Tom will see you out.”
“Till tomorrow then.”
“Yes, tomorrow.”
Tom’s chatter followed James outside and she watched them disappear over the dunes behind the back of the house, up onto the path to the winery. The path was unlit and it was dark tonight, no moon. But Tom knew it like the back of his hand.
She switched on the kettle and waited for Tom. Within minutes Tom had scampered back down the path and burst into the living room, his eyes bright and full of happiness. She handed him a cocoa.
“James is so cool, Mum.” She frowned at the sudden use of the word “mum”. He tended to revert to it when he was feeling emotional. “How come you never told me about him before? He says you guys knew each other years ago.”
“Oh, we were just friends.”
“Best friends, he said.”
“Yes well, times change.”
“But you like him, don’t you?”
“Drink your cocoa, it’s way past bed time.”
“But you do, don’t you?”
“Yes, of course I do. How come you wanted him to come with us tomorrow?”
“Because I like him, too.” He took a thoughtful sip of his cocoa. “And because he looked sad.”
Sad? James? Now Tom had said that she realized he was right. She’d been so busy nursing her own anger and indignation that he should appear out of the blue and take over her life once more—and wondering what she could do to make him go before he could damage her hard-won independence—that she hadn’t really looked at him, she hadn’t really seen that look in his eyes, hadn’t seen the sadness in the depth of his blue eyes.
Susie reached across the boat and took the hamper from Tom and secured it in the back of the boat.
“Morning!” James strolled out onto the jetty.
“Only just,” replied Susie. “I’d have gone by now but Tom refused to go without you.”
“Good one, Tom.” He high-fived Tom.
She looked him up and down. “Left your city gear off then, today.”
He looked down at his shorts and t-shirt. “Lucky Jorja found some of Pete’s gear and lucky we’re about the same size.”
“Um.” She looked him up and down, wondering why the same gear on Pete never had the same effect on her. Then she noticed people had followed him with hampers. “What,” she asked, “is all this?”
“Just a few essentials.” He jumped down beside her and Tom in the boat. “I got to thinking about those cold sausage rolls and flat lemonade…”
“And you’ve bought hampers. Don’t tell me. You had them delivered from the French Patisserie in town?”
“Well, I didn’t make them up myself, that’s for sure.” He passed a bag of things to her. “And a few essentials for the night.”
She peered inside. “An inflatable mattress? Good quality sleeping bag though.” She nodded approvingly. “And…” He passed her another bundle. “A tent, Mac? Under the stars, remember.”
“It might rain. You might be glad I brought it.”
“Tom!” She shouted across. “Jump in. We’d better go while there’s still room for us.”
James inclined his head to hers as she untied the rope from its mooring. “I’ve got things to tempt you, too.” The twinkle in those blue eyes caused her stomach to tighten with desire. “Later tonight. Maybe after a nightcap of flat lemonade, I’ll let you have a little.”
“Mac,” she warned.
“It’ll make your mouth water.”
“I sincerely doubt that.”
“Dark chocolate. The best.”
In an effort to prevent him from noticing the smile that slipped from under her defenses, she turned away and stowed the rope into the bottom of the boat. By the time she turned around, James had taken control of the engine at the boat’s rear. She sat behind Tom.
“You sure you want to steer? You never used to be so good with motorboats. Remember that time on the lake at home?”
He grinned as he applied the throttle and sliced through the calm water of the bay, out towards the gulf. “How could I forget? You saved me yet again. I’ve done a bit of learning since then. I keep my own boat on Tahoe so I know a bit about them.”
“Who’d have thought it? James Mackenzie being practical.”
“I’m far more practical than you know. Even to the point of needing to know exactly where it is we’re going.”
She smiled, relaxing under the strong sun and wind, and fresh salty air. “After ten minutes and two headlands, turn left.”
Once out at sea, the wind picked up and they bounced a little over the ruffled water. Tom laughed and stood up, still holding onto the side so he could feel the sea spray on his face. Susie knew that James was purposely aiming at the crest of a few waves to make sure Tom received a soaking. James didn’t seem to mind that, in so doing, he was also soaking himself. He grinned at her, apparently not concerned that his usual immaculate look was less than immaculate. He simply slicked back his wet hair and it fell in the usual charming waves off his face, tanned and relaxed. If it weren’t for me, Tom, and the shabbiness of the boat, Susie thought, anyone would think he was simply heading to Cannes for an evening with the rich and famous.
But he’s not, she thought sadistically. He’s going camping. And he’ll hate it, with, or without, an airbed.
Susie swam a leisurely breaststroke back to shore, watching James and Tom play soccer as if they did it every weekend. It could have been like this, she thought bitterly, if it hadn’t been for James’s stupid behavior.
But it was no good, no matter what stray angry thoughts popped up, just seeing him play with Tom, unraveled them, combed out the knots that had been tight inside since he’d arrived. He moved with grace, as he always had, and he laughed easily with Tom. But Tom was always good company, she thought proudly. She ran from the shallows, laughing as Tom tried to defeat James with a bit of tricky footwork but he was no match for James who took command of the ball and sprinted towards the two t-shirts that represented the goal posts.
Susie’s competitive instinct kicked in and she ran towards James, whose attention faltered, took the ball and slammed it down the beach into the opposing goal. She jumped up and punched the air. “Goal!”
“Yay! Mum!”
James took a few steps back and sat down abruptly, weakened by the sight of Susie’s breasts rising out of her brief bikini as she jumped up and down with Tom. Her hair fanned up into the light, framing her. Her agile strength and understated beauty knocked the breath out of him. Game over. He’d been outmaneuvered all right.
She walked up to him, hands on hip. “Had enough?”
“For now, maybe. Ask me later.”
She narrowed her gaze in suspicion. Keeping her eye on him she called to Tom. “Tom! Come on, let’s eat.”
They walked up to the line of pohutukawas that overhung the beach, providing much-needed shade. James followed them with the hamper, watching them laugh and joke as they went. They had a closeness James couldn’t help but envy. He hadn’t had any time alone with Susie to ask her the question that was looming large in his mind. Was Tom his son? And it didn’t look like he’d get any time alone on this trip. But part of him was happy. It meant that he could enjoy the day imagining that Tom was his son, imagining a life with both Tom and Susie that was worlds away from the one James had planned. Just the thought sent a thrill of desire and happiness through him that he never wanted to disappear.
He dropped the hamper on the ground and pulled out cushions and blankets first and tossed them to Susie. She shook her head in disbelief. “You and your comfort.”
“Nothing wrong with comfort.” He plucked a bottle of wine from the same hamper, poured a couple of glasses and a lemonade for Tom and then sat back and wat
ched Susie distribute the cutlery and serviettes. Her hair fell in tumbling skeins, sprinkled with sand, to her shoulders. Her skin was perfect, unblemished and lightly tanned. And so was her figure, with its neat curves and long, lean limbs. The black bikini was utterly sexy, whether she thought so or not. Okay, it might not be as skimpy as he’d prefer, but it covered and showcased the shape of her breasts. Breasts made for tasting. He groaned and tried to think of something else. It didn’t work so he dragged the second hamper in front of him. “Now, what would you like? Pate? Salmon? Salad?”
“Salad would be great.”
“What kind of salad? Green, rice, chicken—”
“Good God, Mac!” Laughing, she reached over and took a selection of boxes from him and began spooning them onto the three plates.
“We’ve both earned a good feed, haven’t we Tom?” Tom nodded as he munched on chicken leg. “It’s harder work than the gym.”
“More fun, though,” added Tom.
“Heaps more fun.” James exchanged grins with Tom and then turned to look at Susie and caught a wistful expression in her unguarded eyes that took his breath away.
She jumped up. “I’ll go and get some water.”
He watched as she disappeared into the bush.
“You like my mum, don’t you?”
He looked around to see Tom watching him quietly. “Sure do. Not so sure she likes me much.”
“Why? What did you do?”
How like a ten-year-old to cut straight to the heart of the matter. “I made a mistake.”
“That doesn’t sound so bad.”
“It was a big mistake.”
“Say ‘sorry’ then.”
James nodded thoughtfully. It was true, he’d never actually apologized for his behavior. Years ago she’d disappeared off the map. He’d waited, expecting her to return, leaving messages wherever he thought she might be. But she hadn’t returned to Glencoe and she hadn’t returned his messages. And now? He’d somehow avoided saying the actual words.
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