She laughed. “I think we can safely rule that out as a career for Harry. It’d be good for him to get the exercise, though. And to know that he can excel at something athletic, even if it’s not what you do.”
He looked at her in surprise. “Does that matter? I don’t care if he does what I do. I love footy, always have. I’d play even if they didn’t pay me. But I don’t expect him to.”
“You might want to make sure he knows that,” she suggested, her gentle tone taking any sting out of the words. “You’re a lot to live up to, you know. Especially in New Zealand, where everyone’s so focused on rugby, and being an All Black is the ultimate goal. And also because Sophie is such a good athlete.”
“Reckon she’ll end up as a Football Fern, as much as she loves soccer.”
“And as good as she is at it,” Jenna agreed. “I’ve seen how you encourage her. Not all dads care so much about their daughters’ athletic success. That’s great. But it could also leave Harry out in the cold. If he had his own sport, it would help.”
“So, swimming lessons. With the best teacher.” He grinned. “You.”
“Me,” she agreed, smiling back at him.
“Can I ask you a question?” she went on hesitatingly.
He lifted his eyebrows inquiringly.
“When Sophie said you were the . . . hard man,” she began. “I wasn’t sure what that meant. But the other night, when you went after that guy, I figured it out. You’re the one the other team’s a little nervous about going up against. Because they might get hurt.”
“I reckon. One of them, anyway. Why?”
“Well,” she said slowly. “It just seems . . . odd. I mean, you’re, like you said. A family man. I’d think somebody like that, the hard man, would be more of a hothead. A jerk, frankly. But I don’t see that.”
“Glad of that, anyway. I have a bit of a temper, it’s true. You have to have it under control, though. Use your fists, and you’ll be suspended. That doesn’t do you or the team any good. And yeh, I tackle hard. Not always too careful with my hands and feet in the ruck, either. I may look a little scary out there. But I’ll have a laugh with the boys on the other team after the game. I leave it on the paddock. Don’t need to bash my kids to prove I’m a man, if that’s what you mean.”
“No, I wouldn’t say you have a lot to prove in that department,” she agreed. “I think it’s fairly clear.” She smiled at him, saw the answering smile start in his eyes, spread over his face.
She blushed as she replayed her words in her mind. “Time for me to get going,” she decided, rising and carrying her mug to the dishwasher.
Finn’s praise of her abilities gave her a glow of satisfaction that stayed with her as she began the long run that would take her through two domains, then on to the Central Business District and back. It was true that her own childhood hadn’t featured much order or warmth. Which was, she knew, why it gave her so much pleasure to provide those things for these children. For this family.
In fact, living here was just about as complete a change as possible from the mobile home park where she’d grown up. The trees, ferns, and flowering plants of the lush gardens in the Mt. Eden neighborhood were a stark contrast to the few oleander bushes that had provided a touch of color here and there in the park, not to mention the border of white gravel surrounding the modest mobile home she’d shared with her mother. Nothing survived in the Las Vegas heat without care and water, and her mother had never been a gardener. Or a housekeeper. And Sherri McKnight had had only contempt for Jenna’s housewifely impulses and attention to her schoolwork.
“If you’d spend half the time on your appearance that you do on all that crap, you might be able to get a boyfriend,” her mother had snapped one Saturday morning. Sherri had come home from her overnight “date” to find Jenna vacuuming, ponytail hanging down her back, baggy shorts and T-shirt concealing the puppy fat that hadn’t melted away, even though she had ceased to be a puppy some time ago. “Look at you. You’re a mess.”
“I’m only sixteen, Mom,” Jenna answered defensively. “Lots of girls in my class don’t have boyfriends.”
“You’ve never even been on a date, though, have you?” Sherri pointed out. “I had boys asking me out from the time I was thirteen. You aren’t even trying. You need to go on a diet. I can give you some pills.”
“Those pills aren’t healthy,” Jenna told her. “And I am trying. I’m doing my best to eat right.” Except when she was feeling bad, she thought guiltily, and bought bags of cookies or candy bars with the money she’d earned babysitting for the other families in the park. Food that she hid in her underwear drawer to escape her mother’s criticism.
“Joe told me last night that I had the body of a twenty-five-year-old,” Sherri told her daughter complacently, turning sideways to look at herself in the full-length mirror on the wall of the tiny living room. “I look ten years younger than my age, and you look ten years older.”
Her mother was thirty-nine, not thirty-five, Jenna knew, but she didn’t correct her. “Remember, Mom, I’m teaching swim lessons this morning, so I need to borrow the car. I got an extra class added, the three-year-olds. That’ll be fun. But it means I won’t be back till one or so.”
“Mm-hm,” her mother answered, picking up the remote and turning the TV on before sitting down on the couch and beginning to flip channels. “I’ll be in bed. I need a nap before work. Be quiet when you come in.”
“I was going to make a chicken salad for dinner tonight before I babysit for the Rosses,” Jenna offered. “Do you want me to leave you some for after work?”
“No. I’ll have a Lean Cuisine,” her mother told her, lighting a cigarette. “You should have one of those instead too. Less than 300 calories in the chicken stir-fry, and you don’t have to go to all that trouble. Heat it up and you’re done.”
It was good to know, Jenna thought now, that nobody here was ever going to suggest that a frozen dinner would be preferable to her own efforts. And it was gratifying to feel that her hard work was appreciated, and that she was helping to make this home a warm, happy place. Even if wasn’t actually her home. Or her place.
Chapter 8
“I need to find something else to do,” she told Natalie that evening over a dinner of boneless, skinless chicken breasts she’d first pounded, then dredged in beaten egg and dukkah, the Turkish mix of finely chopped nuts, herbs, and spices, and finally pan-fried. She’d sliced carrots into matchsticks and cooked them with dill, and served a baby spinach and microgreens salad and seeded Turkish flatbread as an accompaniment. The result had been a quick winter meal that, she thought, she’d be trying out soon on Finn and the kids.
She’d been going to Nat’s flat every Monday since she’d started the job to fix supper for the two of them. A bit of a busman’s holiday, but she hadn’t been able to face the prospect of going out to dinner alone every week. Instead, she’d begun trying new recipes on Natalie, who was more than willing to accept the personal chef service at the start of her workweek.
“You don’t like the job?” Natalie asked now in surprise. “I thought it was working out.”
“Besides the job,” Jenna clarified.
“Besides taking care of Finn and the kids, not to mention me,” Natalie said dubiously. “Why?”
“Because it’s not enough. What am I supposed to do with a day and a half off every week? Hide in my room? OK, I do my long run. I come over here and cook for you. I hang out a little bit. That’s maybe one day, all together. If I stretch it out.”
“I see what you mean,” Natalie admitted. “It’d be different if it were your own house.”
“Exactly. That’s their family time. And Finn’s quiet time to recover after the game. Plus, you know, if he wanted to have anyone over, I’d be in the way. It feels awkward to be there, so I stay away. But it’s pretty hard to find somewhere to be all that time. And it feels a little pathetic, you know. Wandering the streets.” She tried to make a joke of it, but felt forlorn
all the same. “I hadn’t anticipated how hard it would be not to have my own place to go to.”
“You could always come here,” Natalie offered. “More than you do. My flatmate wouldn’t mind, I’m sure.”
“Thanks. I appreciate that. But I was actually thinking of volunteering. Finding a Year One classroom where they could use my help. If I’m going to go back to teaching in the new year, it’d be good to spend a little time in the classroom. See how they do things in Auckland.”
“Not that differently to how they do them in Wellington,” Natalie laughed. “Not like it’s very far away.”
“I was thinking about one of the schools with more Maori and Islander kids. That’d be a change, and a challenge. South Auckland, maybe.”
“Don’t want to get too far away, without a car. You don’t want to spend half your Monday on a bus, going all the way down to Manukau or wherever. You could try Onehunga or Mangere, though. They’d be chuffed to have you, I know that.”
“Good ideas. I’ll make some calls tomorrow, see what would work,” Jenna decided. “You want any more of this?”
“Nah. Thanks, as always.”
“No worries.” Jenna got up to wrap the leftovers and put them into the fridge for Nat’s dinner the following night. “Thank you for the company. And the suggestion.”
“I appreciate you coming with me today,” she told Natalie the next weekend as they left Smith & Caughey’s and made their way down the road toward Glassons. “It’s lucky that Finn’s game was at home this week, so I could get you to help me. I’m not that confident picking out clothes by myself. And I’m going to feel much more secure tomorrow if I know I look good. Kind of silly, I know. It’s not like the kids will care. But it’ll help anyway.”
“I’ve decided I’m glad you have something else to focus on,” Natalie said. “And something to remind you that this post is temporary. Because I’m worried about you.”
“Why? I’m doing great.”
“Yeh. Too great, I’m thinking.”
“What does that mean?”
“Do you realize how many times you’ve mentioned Finn and the kids today? And every time I’ve seen you? How involved you are?”
“Well, of course I am. I’m living there. That’s my life right now, taking care of them.”
“But it isn’t your life. Not really,” Natalie said bluntly. “It’s a job. They’re not your family. You do realize that, don’t you? D’you think it’s a good idea to get so attached?”
“You can’t help but get attached. You know that. It seems like you get one or two kids every year who are special, who worm their way into that spot in your heart.”
“Yeh, but you don’t adopt them. And you don’t go live with them—or their fit All Black dads either.”
“What, Finn? Come on. I’m smarter than that.”
“Yeh, right. Why are we shopping today, again?”
“Because I need new clothes for volunteering. I told you.”
“Uh-huh. Then why did you just buy three pairs of jeans that make your bum look good, instead of those Mum jeans you were wearing? And why have you suddenly decided to stop hiding your tits? Mind you, I’m not saying that’s a bad thing. If mine looked like that, I’d be showing them off left, right, and center.”
“You’re awful,” Jenna laughed. “Yeah, OK, I realized I was wearing my clothes too big. All my clothes. I’m not overweight any more, and I should be enjoying that. I’ve worked hard enough for it.”
“Yeh, you have. But, I forget now, who pointed that out to you?”
“You, for one. I know you said something like that, the first week I was here.”
“And it made such an impact that you bought, let’s see, no new clothes in response. But Finn Douglas tells you you’re hot, and suddenly you’re out with me, buying a new wardrobe.”
“He didn’t say I was hot,” Jenna protested.
“Yeh, he did,” Natalie said positively. “Told you your cossie was too sexy, right?”
“Just because he was concerned about, you know, my image or something. Out with his kids.”
“Nah. Because he liked what he saw. And that made him uncomfortable.”
“Even if he does think I look . . . nice,” Jenna said, “it doesn’t mean he has a thing for me. You didn’t see his girlfriend. I don’t even come close.”
“I could debate that too. Anyway, he’s a sportsman. I think we can take it as read that he has a thing for you. I’m not concerned about that. I’m worried about how much of a thing you have for him. He’s not your man, and they aren’t your kids.” Natalie was serious again now. “I have a feeling that you wish they were. And I’m worried that you won’t be guarding your heart.”
Jenna stopped walking and turned to look at her friend. “Nat. I told you. I’m smarter than that. I know who and what I am. And that it isn’t what Finn’s looking for. I like him. I like him a lot. He’s a really decent guy, and a good dad. And yes, I like how he looks. How big and strong he is.”
“But you don’t fancy him,” Natalie said dubiously.
“Come on. I can appreciate him—and how he looks—without climbing into bed with him. You think he’s hot too. Admit it.”
“Oh, I admit it. I’d be all over that, given the chance. You can invite me to come by anytime, not that I think you will. He may not be a looker, but he’s got that craggy, manly thing going on. Great physique. But it’s dangerous, living with someone you fancy. I’m not so worried about you jumping him. I don’t really see that happening. What about when he makes a move on you, though? What are you going to do then? Tell him you’re not that kind of girl? I reckon it’s going to be more like, ‘Kiss me again, big boy.’”
“Let’s hope my strength of character isn’t put to the test,” Jenna said ruefully. “I’m afraid you could be right. If that happened. But I don’t think it would. Because Finn’s realistic too. He needs me too much. As a nanny,” she clarified hastily. “And he’s not short of girlfriend options, I’m sure.”
“But he isn’t dating anyone now, is he?” Natalie asked.
“It’s only been a couple weeks since he broke up with the personality-impaired Ashley,” Jenna pointed out. “And that’s another thing. All right, she was gorgeous. But she wasn’t exactly warm and fuzzy. Cool to cold, I’d say. So, I’m clearly not his type. I can look, but I’m not fooling myself there’s going to be any touching going on. Don’t worry about me.”
“Just watch yourself,” Natalie warned. “That’s all I’m saying.”
Jenna studied herself critically. The outfit had looked good in the shop yesterday, and Natalie had assured her that it was flattering. But now, in her own bedroom mirror where she was used to viewing herself in decidedly looser clothing, she wondered. Was it a bit much? She wanted to make a good impression, and it was a classroom. And her first day. Better to err on the conservative side. She debated changing back into one of her familiar, comfortable outfits. But both Finn and Nat had said she wore her clothes too loose. And she did look better this way, she could tell.
Everything she’d bought yesterday had passed muster with both Natalie and the saleswoman, Jenna reminded herself. The black knit skirt wasn’t really short, after all, just a few inches above the knee. Her Kiwi-style black tights meant that she wasn’t even showing any skin. And the long-sleeved top was pretty. She stroked a hand down the side of the knit fabric with its richly saturated purple and green paisley print. The cut, although trim, couldn’t be called tight, while the high keyhole neckline added a bit of flair without being in the least revealing.
She couldn’t stand here dithering. If she didn’t get going, she wasn’t going to have a chance to eat anything before catching the bus. Still, when she entered the kitchen and found Sophie and Harry finishing their cereal and toast, she couldn’t resist the question.
“What do you think of my new outfit, Sophie? Does it look OK?”
Great. Now she was asking fashion advice of a seven-year-old.
> Sophie paused with her spoon halfway to her mouth and looked her over critically. “I like the shirt,” she pronounced. “It’s pretty. You look nice.”
Jenna exhaled. “Thanks. I bought new clothes yesterday when I went shopping with my friend. And I’m a little nervous about them.”
“Let’s ask Daddy,” Sophie suggested as Finn came into the kitchen. “Don’t you think Jenna’s new clothes are pretty?” she demanded of her father.
Finn looked Jenna over. “Very pretty, I agree.”
“Daddy sees heaps of ladies,” Sophie told Jenna helpfully. “And they always wear lovely dresses. So he knows.”
“Jenna’s prettier than Daddy’s ladies, though,” Harry argued. “Jenna’s the most beautiful woman in the world.”
“Thanks, buddy,” Jenna laughed. “My target demographic,” she explained wryly to Finn. “I profile extremely well with five-year-old boys.”
“I reckon you can aim a wee bit higher than that.” Finn’s answering smile was warm, his eyes appreciative. “You did some shopping, eh.”
“Yeah. You said my clothes were too big,” Jenna said self-consciously. “And my friend agreed. I’m not used to looking like this, though. You don’t think everything’s a bit . . . a bit tight? Like I’m trying to be . . .” Her voice trailed off.
“Sexy?” he asked bluntly. “Nah. I wouldn’t say you look like you’re trying. I’d say you just can’t help it.”
“I knew it. OK. I’m changing.” Forget breakfast, she decided. Better to go hungry than to show up looking like she was headed to a nightclub.
“Aw, geez. Don’t change,” Finn said hastily, putting out a hand to stop her as she turned to go. “I shouldn’t have said that. Nothing’s too tight. There’s nothing wrong with looking pretty, wherever it is you’re going. Unless you’re volunteering at Pare, that is. Then I’d consider a nun’s habit. Anyplace short of that, you’re gold.”
“At where?” So this outfit was wrong for volunteering. She’d known it.
“Paremoremo. The prison,” Finn explained. “Sorry. Stupid joke. You look good. Don’t change.”
Just for Now: Escape to New Zealand Book Three Page 6