by Sue MacKay
If it was possible to live with a broken heart.
Where was Zac’s lead? She had to get away for half an hour or she’d say something she’d regret for ever. If she already hadn’t.
* * *
Michael cracked eggs into a bowl too hard and had to pick out pieces of shell. That was what listening to Stephanie did—wound him up something terrible.
He picked up the whisk and began beating the eggs. His injured wrist wasn’t very helpful in holding the bowl. Ignoring it, he whisked harder, faster. Gooey egg flicked over his sweatshirt.
Whisk.
The bowl slid sideways. Over the edge of the bench onto the tiles.
He stared down at the yellow goo, the shards of crockery which had been a bowl moments before, and wanted to roar. To shout at the world. To blame someone, something, for the wound in his thigh hurting like stink, for the ache in his sprained wrist, for the mess splattered over his track pants and on his floor.
For the words pinging back and forth in his head.
‘You sure that you’re not hiding behind this responsibility? That there’s not something else keeping you from finding happiness, having the life you want?’
He cursed out loud. No, he wasn’t sure. He knew that if he had his sister and his nephew to keep him busy and involved he could cope with being single and living in this big house alone, because they added noise whenever they dropped by. But that was coping, not enjoying, and definitely not loving someone special.
Patricia had taken him to the cleaners when she’d walked out on him. He hadn’t minded so much when she’d demanded half his money. But he’d hated it that she slept with one of his teammates and that she’d gone to the press, who had been only too eager to hear the ‘inside story’ she’d chose to make up about their marriage.
He’d been broken-hearted that the future he’d hoped would bring him love and a family had dissolved into nothing but recriminations. That he really did have the family divorce gene.
That gooey puddle on the floor wasn’t getting any smaller.
Stephanie wanted all the things he couldn’t give her. Commitment beyond everything. Which meant his wanting a repeat fling with her was unrealistic. He would not deliberately hurt her, and that was the fastest way he knew how to.
So he needed to get on with cleaning up the mess and forget how her body had felt up against his yesterday. Had it been only yesterday that he’d kissed her? Seemed timeless...as though that kiss had brought all the previous ones forward to wreak havoc in his head, make him hungry for future kisses.
After filling the sink with cold water he tried to bend down and scoop up egg with the dishcloth. His leg protested. Spots flickered across his eyes.
Straightening, he pulled a chair close and eased himself down on that. Now he could reach the mess, but he had to stand to rinse the cloth. Just as well he didn’t have to be anywhere in a hurry. Up, down...up down.
Those spots behind his eyes were annoying, but the sooner he was done here the sooner they’d disappear.
* * *
At the park Steph unclipped Zac’s lead to let him run free. He barked and leapt in the air, his tail going in all directions, before chasing after a blackbird that was happily digging for worms under a tree nearby.
Her heart lifted momentarily. Why had the dog sought her out? It wasn’t as though she lived next door to his owner. Not even close to her house.
Which reminded her...
She punched her speed dial. ‘Hi, Dad. How’s things?’
‘Your mum has got me sorting through the shed in the hope I’ll get rid of what she calls rubbish and I think of as treasure. What about you? Settled in with your friend?’
Far from it.
‘It’s all good. We hardly see each other—though that’s about to change now I’m on days off. Can you give me Bill’s number? Or get him to ring me? I want to talk real estate with him.’
‘I’m seeing him at golf this afternoon. I’ll give him your number. What are you thinking?’
Her parents would support her in a move if it eventuated. They’d often said her house was too much for her to look after on her own.
‘That I might look for something low-maintenance. Wouldn’t mind a kitchen and a bathroom that were designed in the last couple of years, not nearly a century ago.’
‘Your oven’s better than a coal range!’
Her dad’s laughter always warmed her, but today it was a struggle. Michael had got to her in ways she hadn’t expected, and it hurt that they’d never get together properly...permanently.
‘Only because I put a new one in before I went away.’
She followed Zac around the park as she talked to her dad. If only she could talk about Michael—but what was the point? There was nothing anyone could do to fix her heart. No one but Michael, and she knew where she stood with him.
Right now her feet were itching to run. Out of town, out of the country, as far from Michael as it was possible to get. As far from the source of pain in her stomach, her head, her heart. So much for the best-laid plans. She really had blown those to shreds.
But she had no intention of taking off for other places. She’d come home for good, and that was where she was staying. A new house, maybe, but not a new location. Another tick on her list? Absolutely. She was getting a few of those now. Only the big one she wanted was evasive.
Bark, bark.
Zac bounded up, skidded to a stop at her feet, causing her to trip around him. ‘Easy, beautiful...’ Then, ‘Dad, I’d better get going. Have a great game. Love you.’
Clipping Zac’s lead onto his collar, she glanced at her watch. Ten o’clock. The day stretched out interminably. Sleep was required, but that meant heading back to Michael’s. At the moment being in the same space as him would crush her, though she was meant to be there for him.
She had to find someone else to take her place—fast. If only she had Chantelle’s phone number she could apply pressure to get his sister to take a couple of days off from university. Waiting until the end of the day seemed impossible—too long and too filled with worry that she wouldn’t be able to convince the woman.
Why hadn’t they swapped numbers? It was usually the first thing she did when she met someone she knew she’d see again. But then nothing had been normal these past couple of days.
What about Max or Jock? Surely one of them could take Michael home for day or two? They’d insisted she have their numbers, and had phoned a couple of times to ask after Michael, only to follow up by giving him hell about being lame.
She’d try them. And a district nurse could call in to change his dressings.
‘No can do, Steph,’ Jock said as soon as she’d put his mind at rest about Michael’s condition. ‘My in-laws are coming to stay today.’
Max wasn’t any more helpful. ‘Love to help, but my parents are coming to stay.’
In-laws and parents all coming to stay on the same day? Jerks. They were forcing her to stay with their mate. As for why—she wasn’t going there. Michael needed new friends.
Back on the road, Steph headed for coffee and a muffin, then hit the supermarket, visited the vet clinic to make an appointment for Zac to be checked over, then spent time in a dress shop trying on and discarding an array of outfits she had no need of.
It wasn’t until Zac began whimpering and looking distressed that she knew she could no longer put off going back to Michael’s house.
The moment she opened the front door a feeling of apprehension slithered down her spine.
‘Michael?’
It was too quiet.
‘Michael?’
He wasn’t answering. He wouldn’t have gone out without leaving her note. He wouldn’t have gone out at all. Would he?
He lay on the floor, half against the cupboards beneath the kitchen sink, looking very sorry for hims
elf. And very angry.
‘Michael—what happened?’ She nudged aside a chair that had tipped over near him. She dropped to her knees beside him, lifted his arm to feel for his pulse.
He pulled his arm free. ‘I’m fine. Just need a hand up.’
‘I’ll tell you whether you’re all right.’ She grabbed his wrist again.
‘I slipped. That’s all. Nothing to get in a flap about.’
‘Says the man who would berate any of his patients who didn’t follow his instructions on how to look after themselves.’
Now it was her turn to get angry.
‘What were you doing?’
There was something sticky on the floor. And bits of the bowl she’d been going to scramble eggs in before she’d flounced out of here.
‘You were scrambling eggs?’
‘I was hungry. Can’t a bloke do anything for himself?’
‘Not when his wrist’s sprained and his thigh has layers of stitches that a knock could damage—let alone what falling to the floor might do.’ She let go his wrist. ‘Your pulse is normal.’
‘That’s good.’ Relief flicked through his gaze.
‘What? Is there something you’re not telling me?’
‘Help me up, will you?’
‘Are you going to faint all over me?’
‘No.’ Michael sighed. ‘I promise. I dropped the bowl of eggs and I was trying to wipe up the resultant mess but it wasn’t working. I couldn’t reach properly. And then I stepped in the egg and my feet went out from under me. That’s all.’
‘That’s more than enough. Are you sure you didn’t faint?’
There was still that relief shining in his eyes.
‘Positive. Though there were a few spots before my eyes earlier, when I was bent over trying to touch the floor. But they didn’t cause me to up-end.’
He sounded definite, and since his pulse couldn’t lie she let the matter drop.
But she’d have to keep an eye on him all day. There went her sleep...
She lifted his good arm to put over her shoulder and wound her arm around his waist. ‘Come on. Let’s get you back on your feet.’
Michael held on to the edge of the bench with one hand and between them he was soon upright—though his face was white and his grip on her shoulder tight.
‘Thanks, Steph. I wouldn’t have blamed you for leaving me there.’
‘It was tempting.’ She smiled, wanting to get back on side with him. ‘Shall I give some more eggs a whirl?’
‘You going to join me?’ Caution laced his words, held him still.
‘Those drumsticks hardly touched the sides!’
It didn’t take long to clean up the mess and start again.
‘I rang Max and Jock to see if one of them could give you a bed for a couple of nights. You don’t need me to change those bandages. Any nurse could do it. But seems they’ve both got family coming to stay.’
Michael rolled his eyes. ‘Their parents all live within ten kilometres of their houses.’
‘I figured. Anyway, I reckon you’d probably go spare in someone else’s house so I’m going to stay for a couple more nights.’
Had she really just said that? She needed her head read.
He pushed up on to his feet, walked across so he stood directly in front of her. His hands caught hers. ‘About that earlier conversation... We were stepping on things I don’t like to talk about, even though I started it. Can we put it behind us while you’re here? You know a little more about me, but it doesn’t have to change anything.’
Too late. Everything had changed.
‘I’ve forgotten what you said already. Just try not fall on the floor again, will you? I might be taller than average, but weightlifting was never my favourite sport.’
If they could muddle along together without any more upsets until he was safe on his own then she’d stay. She mightn’t be able to persuade him to look at her as a potential future wife, but she’d take what she could get.
Pathetic. But true.
CHAPTER TEN
‘SIT, ZAC.’ STEPH STOOD at the side of the road by Michael’s house, waiting for Zac to park his haunches. ‘Good boy.’
She shivered in the cool, wet night air and hunched into her jacket. Winter was the pits. If she hadn’t been so restless she might’ve stayed inside and made Zac miss out on a walk. Another walk. This was his third today. Every time she needed to put space between her and Michael she picked up the lead.
She wondered what Bill had come up with as a sale price on her house. He was going round there after golf. Hopefully he’d leave a message on her phone. Her phone that was on Michael’s bench—not her brightest move.
When she got back, three cars crowded the driveway. Max and Jock were clearly visiting, and Chantelle was here for dinner. Steph now had her number, and had texted her to ask her to come round.
In light of their conversation about hiding behind his duties to his family, she wanted Michael to take a look at Chantelle when neither of them were on edge about doing things for each other. Of course it would probably all backfire and she’d be the one going home tonight.
The guys dropping in was a bonus. They’d lighten the atmosphere with their jokes and cheek. She’d like to meet their wives sometime...
Hello? That would mean being more involved with Michael.
‘Hey, Steph, get this into you.’
Max must have seen her coming up the drive, because he stood in the doorway with a large glass of wine in his hand.
‘Michael said you like a Pinot Gris, same as him.’
‘Sure do—thanks. Is he still grumpy?’ she asked as she shrugged out of her windbreaker. ‘He brought in a bucket of logs earlier, hopping on one foot and swinging his crutch precariously. It’s a given that he dropped the bucket on his foot.’
Max scowled. ‘Stubborn idiot. But no worries. I’ve brought in enough wood to last you a couple of days, and Jock chopped up some more for later on.’
A couple of days?
‘He’s already pushing the boundaries on how much he can do, which is a fair indicator that I won’t be needed much longer.’
Zac plonked down on the mat in front of the fire, stretching out his paws and laying his head on top of them, his eyes fixed on Michael as if this was home, thank you very much.
Sorry, boy, but this is temporary.
‘I see the dog’s made himself comfortable.’ Jock grinned. ‘Getting to be like a regular family around here.’
‘Butt out,’ Michael growled, with no smile within range.
For once his friends didn’t say another word. Instead they busied themselves with pouring drinks, pulling chairs closer to the fireplace and tipping chips into a bowl.
‘Your phone’s rung twice,’ Michael told her when she sat down by the fire. ‘I tried to answer it...’
‘But you were too slow?’ She laughed.
‘I hope it wasn’t anything important.’
Michael was watching her closely. Looking for what?
Her laughter died. It was hard to keep it rolling when the person she was trying to share it with was looking like a storm on the horizon.
‘I doubt it.’
Probably Bill. She went to get her phone, saw that there was a phone message and a text from the agent.
Looking up, her eyes clashed with Michael’s. Still under scrutiny. She shoved the phone in her pocket. She’d call back when everyone had left. Right now it was fun to have company and dilute the Michael atmosphere.
Sipping her wine, she sighed. ‘Just what the doctor ordered.’
‘Not this doctor,’ Michael quipped, appearing to relax now that she’d put her phone away.
Aaron climbed up onto Michael’s good knee, attracting his attention, and she relaxed further. It was fun to be able sit and t
alk and not be on edge about everything she said.
After Max and Jock had left, making comments about her and Michael to wind up their friend, Chantelle cooked rice to go with the slow-cooked pork Steph had made and poured them both another glass of wine to enjoy over dinner.
At nine Chantelle gathered Aaron from his bed and headed for the front door. ‘Thanks for dinner, Steph. Are you okay staying for another night or two?’
‘I think so.’
‘Give me a shout if you change your mind!’
And Michael’s sister was gone.
Steph closed and locked the door, suddenly all her energy gone. Time for a decent night’s sleep. Which was really pathetic, considering she was sharing a house with the man she loved.
‘Stephanie? Are you all right?’ Michael appeared before her.
‘Couldn’t be better.’ She pushed away from the door. ‘Let’s do your dressing.’
Then she could escape to her room down the hall and bury her head under the pillow until the alarm told her it was time to get up and go to work.
* * *
‘As far as nightcaps go, that has to be the worst I’ve ever been offered,’ Michael grunted, before heading to the bathroom and those bandages.
But it had to be done, and the sooner the better, because then he could find something to watch on TV and stop wondering why Auckland’s number one real estate salesman was trying to get in touch with Stephanie.
He’d seen the man’s name flash up on her phone’s screen. It had been hard not to demand what was going on. If Stephanie was thinking about leaving town again he’d be devastated.
‘Your injury’s looking a lot better,’ Steph commented minutes later. ‘The swelling’s going down. You’ll be running soon.’
‘With or without the crutch?’ He intended leaving it aside as much as possible from now on.
‘There—done and dusted.’ She looked up at him. ‘What’s bothering you?’
He could lie, say nothing, but he didn’t. ‘That phone call from Bill Summers.’
Her face lightened. ‘I need to call him back now that everyone’s gone.’
‘A bit late, isn’t it?’