by Sami Lee
Eve had to stifle a laugh, his joke relieving some of the tension. “You are so fussy about your food.”
“Try it at your own peril, and don’t say I didn’t warn you. My mother’s no master cook.”
“Mike, you shouldn’t say things like that about your mother! The poor woman’s probably slaved over a hot stove all these years just to put three square meals on the table and you complain.”
“I’m not sure programming the microwave can be considered slaving over a hot stove. Come to think of it, I probably became a chef out of sheer desperation, not just because I hated the idea of a desk job.”
Trying to picture Mike in an office, in a suit and tie, was impossible. He was an innately physical person.
The thought made her body tremble in delicious ways.
The clouds weaved around the sun, affording only intermittent warmth and light while they lunched on the back patio. Bailey gnawed happily on some chicken meat Allen had cooked especially for him—minus the sharp kebab stick—some pineapple and cubes of cheese. The adults ate the marinated kebabs, greens and crusty bread. The food was delicious, the white wine Allen had poured her crisp and light.
And Denise’s potato salad was awful.
With a deftness she was quite proud of, Eve hid her distaste, smiling as she choked down the last mouthful of the offensive dish. “That was delicious, Denise. Thank you.”
Mike gave her a look that told her he knew the extent of her deception, but Denise smiled with pride. “Thank you Eve. I’d be happy to give you the recipe, but it’s kind of my own creation, a bit different every time. I usually add a touch of chilli sauce but I didn’t have any, so I had to improvise.”
Eve wasn’t sure what was worse—the thought of chilli sauce in potato salad or the mystery of what Denise had used instead. “That’s okay, I don’t get much time to cook anyway. That’s why it’s been really great having Mike around.”
Why had she said that? She didn’t want Denise to think anything was going on between them. The way she had been eyeing them earlier while they frolicked on the grass had held a gleam of suspicion. The last thing she should be doing was singing Mike’s praises to his mother.
“I’ll bet it has been,” Denise agreed, her smile not seeming quite so genuine any more. Her eyes flickered between her son and Eve shrewdly. “I suppose it must be hard, taking up responsibility for Bailey all on your own. It’s a hard slog for a single woman.”
Eve wanted to tell her being single wasn’t a disease, but managed a careful smile instead. “I can handle it.”
Denise gave a sympathetic shake of her head. “Still, it would be much easier if you could share the load. Lord knows Mike won’t be around forever. He’s never one to let the grass grow under his feet.”
“Mum.”
Denise ignored Mike’s attempt to get her to shut up. “I’m just saying, I’m sure Eve doesn’t want to be alone forever. Maybe it’s time she started seriously dating.”
Someone other than her son, was the implication.
“Denise, for Pete’s sake! Can’t you see you’re embarrassing the girl?” Allen interjected gruffly, before suggesting, “Why don’t we get Bailey’s cake organised?”
“Good idea,” Mike agreed, shooting daggers at his mother who complied under obvious sufferance.
Eve wondered why she wasn’t angry about the overzealous protection of both the Wilcox men. After all, she could hold her own, even with Denise, and didn’t need either of them to swoop in and save her. Perhaps it was a simple case of relief that she didn’t have to respond to Denise’s suggestion about her dating someone. The very idea felt like anathema to her at the moment, although the picture of her being alone forever didn’t hold a wealth of appeal either.
She supposed that one day, she might be ready to consider the idea of a relationship with a man. Some day, when she was ready.
Ready for what? To date a man without comparing him to Mike?
In frustration, she reminded herself that she and Mike were not an item, and they would not be right for each other if they were. He was unpredictable, impulsive and easy to be around. She was … none of those things. And, as Denise had so unsubtly reminded her, Mike wasn’t likely to stick around. Their situation was only ever meant to be temporary. Soon he would move out.
The thought didn’t make her as happy as she would have expected, given that she had never wanted him to move in to begin with. In fact it didn’t make her happy at all.
Denise brought out the cake, and they all sang ‘Happy Birthday’ to Bailey, who merely looked at them all with curious blue eyes. When it came time to blow out the candle, Eve and Mike leaned down automatically to help him, their eyes connecting over the single flame. The look in his stopped the breath in Eve’s throat, and Mike had to extinguish the candle on his own.
Sitting back in her chair because her knees felt like they might give out, Eve helped cut and serve the cake. When they had all eaten their fill and Bailey had painted his face with chocolate icing, Eve sighed. “That was exquisite.”
“If you do say so yourself?”
Eve gave Denise a level stare. “I’m sure you’ve already guessed Mike helped me.”
“I didn’t think that at all! Not after you were so determined to do it on your own.”
“Well, it turns out I’m not much of a cook,” Eve admitted. “Mike had to step in.”
“She had trouble with the oven is all,” Mike lied unashamedly. “It’s temperamental.”
This time Eve did feel a flash of anger at his determination to protect her. Couldn’t he see siding with her against his mother only made the situation worse? It was Denise who deserved his loyalty, not her.
From the bitter twist of the other woman’s lips, Eve deduced she was thinking exactly the same thing.
“You don’t need to defend me,” Eve told Mike.
“Yes, Mike,” Denise turned on her son. “You seem to be doing a lot of that lately.”
“Perhaps it’s because you seem to always be on the attack where Eve’s concerned.”
“I’m merely concerned about my grandson.”
“And I’ve reassured you there’s nothing to worry about. Eve and I have everything under control.”
“Eve and I?” Denise repeated, incredulous. Eve herself felt her jaw drop at the inference that they were some kind of team.
Like a couple.
“Since when did you and Eve become a pair? Since when did you decide to side with her against your own family?”
“Don’t you get it Mum? Eve is part of the family now. She’s as good as Bailey’s mother, and that’s the way Derek wanted it.”
“That’s what Jacinta wanted,” Denise fired back. Then her shoulders sank and she looked despondent, suddenly older. “And whatever Jacinta wanted, Jacinta got. First she took my son. Oh, I know, I gained a daughter-in-law, too, and she was for the most part a lovely, vibrant girl who made my son happy. But it was almost like she bewitched him, like she became the centre of his universe and the rest of us were just…” she lifted her hands helplessly, “background noise. And it was her stupid idea. Jumping out of a plane, for goodness sake! My Derek would never have done something so reckless if she hadn’t talked him into it.”
“If she’d gone alone,” Mike pointed out gently, “Bailey would still be without a mother.”
“But I’d still have my son!” Denise wailed. She was crying now, her words rushing out on top of loud, emotion filled sobs. She turned to Eve, her blue eyes tormented. “And then to find out she wanted you to raise Bailey. Not us, not Michael, but you. Someone outside the family. She took away my son, and then she took away my grandson as well!”
Her chair toppled over as Denise pushed it back and dashed from the table, her cries echoing behind her as she disappeared inside.
Mike rose from his chair, but Allen held up a hand to still his son. “I’ll go.”
Eve watched as Mike gathered up his nephew and held him close to his chest. Poo
r Denise. She would be embarrassed over making such an outburst, although Eve thought she shouldn’t be. She was entitled to her grief, and it was unbearable grief that had prompted it, that had in fact prompted the open dislike of her she had shown. She saw Eve as a symbol of all she had lost, the revelation turning Eve’s own aversion to the woman to compassion and curbing the defensiveness she felt on Jacinta’s behalf. Eve realised that she was deserving of some of Denise’s wrath. She had failed to initiate a system of visitation where Bailey’s grandparents were concerned.
Another failure to add to her growing list.
“Perhaps we should go,” Eve said, seeing that Bailey’s perturbation was turning into a slight case of the grizzles. Some first birthday he was having.
“I think you’re right.”
“I’ll clean up all these dishes first, if you watch Bailey.”
She carried everything inside and filled the sink, washing the dishes and leaving them to dry in the dish rack. She found the plastic wrap and covered the leftovers, making room in the fridge for them. Wiping down the benches, she surveyed the room and, thinking of no more she could do to help, she turned to leave.
She almost ran into Denise, who was standing by the fridge looking at the clean kitchen with a vague look. “You did all this?”
“I didn’t think you’d want to face it,” Eve explained. Feeling awkward, she wiped her damp palms on her corduroy pants.
Denise hesitated before saying, “Thank you.”
“Any time,” Eve said, then wished she hadn’t. The phrase made it seem like there might be another lunch at Mike’s parents’ house, and somehow Eve couldn’t envisage Denise issuing another invitation.
Part of the family. That’s what Mike had said. But she had never been part of a real family, and she didn’t hold out much hope of ever being a part of this one.
But Bailey was part of it. The thought prompted Eve to say what she should have said six weeks ago. “I’d like to call you this week, if I could, and sort out a regular timetable for you and Allen to see Bailey. I was thinking perhaps you’d like him to stay here every other weekend, at the very least? We can work out something for during the week as well, if you’re not too busy for that.”
“Nonsense! We’ll never be too busy for Bailey!” Denise was eager to assure her, tears again seeping from her puffy eyes. But now she was smiling, and Eve felt her heart warm with the knowledge that she had said the right thing. “We’d so love to have him stay with us anytime you need a break. You don’t have to do it all on your own, Eve.”
Eve nodded, a little uncomfortably. In the face of Denise’s eagerness she felt embarrassed that she hadn’t suggested something like this sooner. She hadn’t considered the possibility that Denise and Allen wanted to spend that much time with a young toddler. Her mother had certainly never wanted to spend any time with her.
“It was never my intention to keep Bailey from you,” Eve found herself saying, emotion clogging her throat. “I thought as he was my responsibility, it wasn’t right for me to impose on you.”
“It’s no imposition,” Denise assured her, her expression bewildered that the thought would have crossed her mind at all.
“I’ll call you to nut out the details.” Wiping her palms on her pants again, Eve made to exit the kitchen.
Denise’s hand on her arm stopped her when she would have passed. Eve was stunned into stillness when the woman reached out to pull her into a heartfelt embrace. “Thank you, Eve. And I’m sorry … about earlier.”
Not knowing how to react, Eve merely stood there and let Mike’s mother hug her, feeling the emotion stuck in her throat threaten to burst forth. Eventually, Denise released her, smiling a watery smile. “I hope we can be friends, Eve. It would make it a lot easier with Bailey, especially once Mike leaves for Melbourne.”
The words were like iced water flushing through Eve’s veins. “Mike’s moving to Melbourne?”
Chapter 9
“The last he told me about it he’d been offered a job down there with a former employer. I thought…” Denise faltered. “I assumed he would have told you.”
Too stunned to cover her true reaction, Eve could only stare blankly at the other woman, not really seeing her. Mike was moving to Melbourne.
“Oh, dear,” gasped Denise. “I’ve put my foot in it. I can’t think why Mike wouldn’t tell you.”
“It’s all right,” Eve managed at last. “I’m sure it just slipped his mind. His moving in was only ever temporary.” She wasn’t sure that Denise believed her careless shrug, and she couldn’t afford to delay leaving any longer. “Bailey needs to get home for a nap. I’ll call you, Denise.”
It was a tense ride home. Eve kept silent, watching the suburban scenery pass by behind a veil of softly falling rain, feeling oddly betrayed because Mike hadn’t told her of his plans to move away—which was stupid. He didn’t owe her any explanations. This absurd, bereft feeling was her own fault, because she knew now that her better judgement hadn’t saved her. She had grown used to having Mike around, and liked it. She had started to rely on him. She, who knew no person could be relied upon, had come to rely on the mercurial Mike Wilcox.
More fool her.
Mike seemed to sense her desire to avoid conversation and drove home in answering silence.
It was raining in earnest by the time they pulled into the driveway of the cottage, its usually jaunty yellow exterior looking battered in the fierce weather. Bailey had fallen asleep in his car seat, not surprisingly, after the day’s excitement.
They couldn’t park under the carport, because Eve’s car was already there. “I guess we’re going to get wet.” They were the first words she had spoken since they had left his parents’ house. Her voice was a monotone. Getting wet or not held little interest for her. “I’ll get Bailey, you unlock the door.”
Mike immediately objected. “I’ll get Bailey. Whoever gets him is going to cop the most of this rain.”
“I’m doing it,” Eve announced stubbornly, leaping out of the passenger side and racing to open the back door before he could stop her.
“Dammit/Damn it, Eve!” She heard Mike curse as he grabbed Bailey’s nappy bag from the back seat and got out of the car. Eve was already dashing toward the stairs by the time he caught up with her.
“This way!” he called into the rain, indicating that she should head toward the door to his downstairs studio.
The front stairs were exposed to the weather and looked slippery. Still, she might have objected once again if she hadn’t been clutching a now distressed Bailey, whose little head was getting almost as wet as hers, his eyes squinting against the downpour. Instead, for Bailey’s sake, she followed Mike and stood under the shelter provided by the upstairs deck while he unlocked the separate entrance to his room.
Mike saw immediately that he had done a haphazard job of making the bed that morning, throwing the blue quilt over the mussed sheets. His work clothes were thrown negligently over the back of a chair and there was a spy novel opened spine down on his pillow. Otherwise, the room looked tidy enough, and it was clean. He wasn’t a slob.
And what did he care if Eve thought he was anyway?
He turned to find Eve staring at him. Quickly, she looked away. “I’d better get Bailey upstairs and into a warm bath.”
Her hair was drenched and plastered to her cheeks in thick clumps. Her skin looked pale, washed of what little make-up she had applied, luminescent in the dim grey light coming in through the room’s one window. A raindrop trickled down her cheek. He watched its progress as it joined others that had already gathered on her wet, pink lips.
“Evie.” Her name was barely a rasp in his throat. He didn’t know what he wanted to say to her, he just wanted her to look at him.
She lifted her eyes to his, as though a force beyond her control compelled it. Their dark depths told him the naked truth even before her gaze flickered helplessly over his frame, the wet shirt that clung to him, and a telling flush infuse
d her cheeks.
She was as tormented by the unwanted desire to touch as he was.
He said again, his tone one of defeat, “Evie…”
She moved backward, avoiding the hand he reached out to her. Her eyes grew wide and filled with panic. “Don’t touch me. Don’t defend me to your mother, and don’t try and make me think I’m a part of your family, because I’m not.”
Her antagonistic words caused Mike to step back as she had. “Where in hell did that come from?” When she merely continued to stare at him, something close to hostility in her expression, he said what he should have said to fill the silence on the ride home. “Look, I’m sorry about that scene back at my parents’.”
“There’s no need to apologise,” she said. “Your mother was upset. We spoke afterward and came to an arrangement.”
That was news to him. “You did?”
Her nod was curt. “Bailey’s going to stay with your parents every other weekend, and perhaps sometimes during the week.”
“That’s great,” he said, still surprised that Eve and his mother had managed to nut this out after the dramatic scene that had played out at lunch. He was surprised either of them had been so conciliatory. “So, you’re upset because you have a problem with me, not my mother.”
“I told you, I don’t want you forcing me onto your family. I don’t belong to your little Wilcox clan.”
“You and my mother come to an arrangement on that, too?”
“We made a fragile peace, I don’t want to damage that—for Bailey’s sake. He needs his grandparents. And they, as it turns out,” she seemed almost surprised, “need him.”
Mike ran the hand through his hair, watching as droplets of rain fell to the brown and white rug. Returning his gaze to her face, he saw her unyielding expression. He felt like he was trying to move a stone wall with his bare hands. “Why can’t you accept that you are a part of my family?”
“Why can’t you accept that I’m not?” she fired back. “Why can’t you accept that I don’t need, or want, anything from you, Mike Wilcox?” With that she spun away, darting from the room. A moment later he heard her shoes on the stairs and the sound of Bailey’s gurgling cries growing more distant with each thud of her feet.