“I don’t really want to do it,” Siobhan said. “Shag him, I mean. I love Declan. I just . . .” She sighed again. “It’d just be nice to touch a body like that, once. Sad to think I’ll never have the chance. Think Finn would let me come over and feel his chest for a bit? Purely in the spirit of scientific inquiry?”
“No,” Jenna said through her giggles. “I don’t think that’d go over well. It’d make the school dropoff so awkward afterwards, too.”
“He could auction it off,” Siobhan pointed out. “At the next school fundraiser. That’d raise a fair sum amongst the mums.”
“Also never happening. I guarantee it.”
“Pity. Have to keep dreaming,” Siobhan decided.
“So what does all this mean?” Jenna asked, wiping her eyes. “Good date last night? Or bad date?”
“Good date,” Siobhan smiled. “Definitely. Makes me saucy.”
“I guess that means you’ll be up for the kids coming over again. I wouldn’t mind having them next Friday as well, since Finn won’t be back till that Sunday. And Sophie’s soccer game will be in the afternoon again, next Saturday.”
“If you’re sure,” Siobhan said doubtfully. “Can’t I reciprocate, next time? Wouldn’t you like a night off yourself?”
“Nyree’s cousin Miriam will come on Monday, give me my day,” Jenna assured her. “That’s all I need. With the kids in school and without Finn here to cook for, there really isn’t that much to do. But we could all use some company. And I’ll take a rain check on the sleepover at your house. Who knows, some other road trip, I might need it.”
“Let’s make it a date, then,” Siobhan decided. “Friday night sleepover. And let’s have coffee one morning next week too. Tuesday suit you?”
“I’d love to,” Jenna said with pleasure. “On both counts.”
Well, look at that, she thought as she and the kids waved goodbye fifteen minutes later. Nanny or not, she’d made a new friend. The best kind. One who made her laugh. Who would have guessed?
Jenna juggled the pile of clothes, pushed the door open with her backside. Sophie looked up in shock from her cross-legged position on the bed, then slammed shut the pink, bejeweled notebook she’d been writing in and shoved it under her pillow together with her pen.
“Sorry,” Jenna said calmly, taking the armload of clothes across to Sophie’s dresser and setting it down on top. “I didn’t realize you were in here, or I’d have knocked. Somehow.” She smiled. “Maybe I wouldn’t have. I need to grow another hand. Can you help me put these away, please?”
Sophie got off her bed reluctantly, came across to lend a hand. Jenna saw her cast a glance back at her notebook, one corner still showing under the pillow.
“You know,” she told the little girl, opening the top drawer and handing Sophie her neatly folded underwear, “I think it’s a wonderful thing to have a private book, a place to write your private thoughts.”
She saw Sophie’s eyes fly to hers, continued in a conversational tone. “Of course, private means that nobody else is allowed to read what you write. Unless you invite them to, of course.”
She opened the next drawer, gave Sophie a stack of shirts. “Which is why,” she finished, “I’d never read anybody’s private notebook.”
“You wouldn’t?” Sophie asked her doubtfully.
“Nope. I sure wouldn’t. I wish I’d had the good idea of getting a notebook like that, when I was seven or eight, say. It would have helped when I was mad at my mum, that’s for sure. To have a place to write it down.”
She put away Sophie’s socks, refolded a pair of jeans and added them to the bottom drawer, giving a quick tidy to the contents while she was at it.
“You were mad at your mum? Really?”
“I sure was,” Jenna leaned back against the dresser to look down at Sophie. “Lots of times. When she hurt my feelings, or I thought she wasn’t paying enough attention to me.”
“Even though she cooked you dinner, and washed your clothes, and everything?” Sophie asked. “You were still mad sometimes?”
Ah. “Even though. I don’t think that was really so ungrateful, do you? I mean, I did know that she did those things. And I helped as much as I could. At least I hope so. But I couldn’t help my feelings, could I? It would have been nice to have a notebook, a safe place to talk about it. Like you. When did you start writing in yours?”
“My birthday. Last year. I always made lists. When I was little, I mean.”
Jenna fought back the smile that tried to creep out at that, listened as Sophie went on. “Once I learnt to write, in Year One. That’s why Daddy gave me the notebook. He said it would be a place for my lists. And my drawings, and anything I wanted to put in it. He said it was special, just for me.”
“That was a very thoughtful present,” Jenna told her. “Your dad’s pretty special himself, isn’t he?”
Sophie nodded emphatically. “He’s not like other dads. Nobody else’s dad is an All Black. Nobody at my school.”
“That’s a big honor, I know,” Jenna agreed. “But it must be lonesome sometimes for you too.”
“He has to go, though,” Sophie argued. “That’s his job.”
“It is. But it can still be hard, can’t it? I’ll bet it’s hard for him too, to leave you and Harry.”
“He says he misses us,” Sophie said in a small voice.
“I know he does,” Jenna said firmly. “He calls you just about every night, I know that. I’ll bet he needs to hear your voice as much as you need to hear his.”
“D’you really think so?”
“I really do,” Jenna assured her. “You can ask him on Sunday, when he comes home. But I’ll bet he says yes.”
“Now,” she said briskly, straightening up again. “You’ve been in your room since you got home from school. And I could use a hand with dinner. Do you think you could come set the table for me? I could use the company, to tell you the truth.”
“OK. I can help.”
“Thanks.” Jenna smiled down at her, rested a hand briefly on the top of her head. “Let’s go get to it, then. And we can plan what we’ll do, tomorrow night when Caitlin and Ethan come over. You can help me make a menu. We’ll make a list.”
“So good to be back.” Finn stretched his long legs out under the kitchen table on Sunday evening and sighed. “Long time. Long trip.”
“Your internal clock must be completely out of whack,” Jenna sympathized. “More than twelve hours’ difference. Does it feel like breakfast time?”
“It does. And strangely enough, I’m hungry.”
“I kind of anticipated that. I made a Greek lasagne for tonight. Not exactly breakfast food, but I thought it might be satisfying for the day after a game. Give me forty-five minutes, OK?”
“Choice,” he said appreciatively.
“Sorry you lost, Dad,” Sophie said, coming up to stand next to him.
He put his arm around her and pulled her close. “Even the ABs lose now and then, darling. We did our best, but some days even that isn’t enough. The Springboks were in form, and we weren’t quite clicking.”
“I thought the ref robbed you,” Sophie said stoutly. “He totally missed that knock-on by Franck. They shouldn’t’ve had that last try.”
“Nah. Can’t go blaming the ref. It goes one way as often as it goes the other. Just have to chuck it into the loss column and let it motivate you for next time.”
Jenna paused in her salad preparations at the sound of a phone ringing. Hers, she realized. She wiped her hands on a tea towel and picked it up. Jeremy’s number leapt out at her from the screen. It had been more than a year since she’d seen those digits, but there was no way of mistaking them.
“Hello?” She moved out of the room as she spoke. She had a feeling that this wasn’t going to be short.
“Jenna.” Jeremy’s familiar voice, once so dear to her, sounded strained. “How’re you going?”
“I’m fine. What can I do for you?”
H
e sighed. “You still haven’t forgiven me. Wish we could move past this.”
“I’m working on it. But it’s not easy. I’m assuming there’s a reason you called. Is it to do with the dissolution?”
“Yeh. The two years are up on the tenth of September.”
“Yes,” she couldn’t help pointing out. “I do recall that date.”
“Yeh. Anyway. I’d like to speed up the process a bit. Which we can do, if we appear in Family Court instead of applying through the post. Would you be able to do that? I’ll schedule it at your convenience, of course. And my lawyer will prepare all the paperwork.”
“And the difference is, what? I’d assumed we’d just send in our petition in the normal way.”
“If you do it in court, it takes effect immediately. We’d be done. Walk out with our marriage dissolved, able to move on.”
“Ah. Move on to what?”
“Marriage,” he explained, sounding a little shamefaced. “But it’d be better for you too,” he hastened to point out. “You can’t have enjoyed these past years either, waiting to make it official. Wouldn’t it be good to have it done and get on with your life?”
“Yes,” she admitted. “It would.”
“I’ll pay for your return ticket to Welly,” he assured her. “I realize it’s an inconvenience. I don’t even know where you’re living now. Just that you left.”
“Auckland,” she said resignedly. “And I’ll take you up on that, since you’re the one who wants this. What date are we talking about?”
“As soon after the tenth as you can do it.”
Jenna consulted the calendar on her desk. “The fourteenth is a Monday. That’d work for me. If not then, the following Monday.”
“The fourteenth should work. I’ll be in touch, let you know. And Jenna. Thanks. You’re awesome, as always. I really appreciate this.”
Yeah. Awesome. She ended the call and sat for a minute holding her phone, made a note on her calendar. So awesome that here she was, alone. And about to become unmarried as well.
Finn looked up as she came back into the kitchen. “Everything all right?”
“Sure.” She busied herself with sliding the pan of lasagne into the preheated oven, then went back to her salad. Her hands were trembling as she sliced the carrots, she realized with surprise. She swore under her breath as a vegetable skittered out from under her knife. Not a good sign. She set the sharp implement down and took a deep breath.
Finn moved Harry from his lap, where he’d been reading him his dinosaur book. “Look at the pictures for a minute, mate, while I talk to Jenna,” he commanded his son.
“What’s happening?” he asked her in a low voice, coming up beside her at the kitchen island. “Anything I can do?”
She blinked the tears back. “Sorry. I’m all right. Something I wasn’t expecting, that’s all.”
“Need a hand?”
She began to refuse, then looked down at her hands, still gripping the edge of the island. “Would you mind slicing some vegetables for me? I’m not doing too well right now. I may need a little help to get this dinner on the table.”
“Course. Just tell me what to do.”
She began to relax, his solid presence nearby comforting her as she moved around the kitchen, warming the loaf of Turkish bread and setting the table. Luckily, she wasn’t required to make much conversation during dinner. Sophie and Harry had plenty of news for their father, and he was clearly happy to be back amongst his family again, laughing at their stories and asking questions. The bedtime routine went more quickly than usual as well with Finn chipping in, to her relief.
“Sit with me for a bit, if you don’t mind,” he offered. She’d come out of Harry’s room just as he was closing Sophie’s bedroom door. “I’m not going to be able to sleep for hours yet. I’d like the company.”
“Actually, I think I need some quiet time. Thanks for all your help tonight, though.”
“Anything I can do,” he promised. “Just ask.”
Chapter 14
“Do you have time for a schedule check, before I take off?” Jenna asked Finn the next morning when he came back in after walking the kids to school.
“Course.” He watched with amusement as she made them each a fresh cup of tea and picked up the pages she’d set ready. “You are the most orderly person I’ve ever known.”
“Except you,” she pointed out. “I’ve never seen you set anything out of place yet.”
“Yeh, I pick up after myself. But you pick up after everyone.”
“No, I don’t. I make sure everyone picks up,” she corrected him. “There’s a difference.”
“Whatever it is, I like it,” he decided. “Now. Schedule?”
“You leave for Buenos Aires when?”
“Sunday afternoon. Can you and the kids give me a lift to the airport? Around eleven. And d’you mind collecting me again, Tuesday week?”
“Of course.” She made a note of the times. “What else this week?”
“Barbecue at Drew and Hannah’s on Friday night, as we won’t have a practice that day.”
“Just you? Or you and the kids?”
“Just me. So you’ll be on your own with them.”
“I’m pretty used to that by now,” she assured him. “Anything else?”
“I thought I’d take the kids out to the pub on Saturday night, before I leave. We’ve missed a fair few Dad Times here, and we’ll be missing a couple more. Thought it’d give you another night off, too, before you’re stuck again, ten more days.”
“OK. Friday and Saturday night out, Sunday afternoon to the airport. Check. Otherwise, you’re home?”
“Otherwise I’m home,” he agreed. “Putting the oven’s capacity to the test.”
“I think I can handle that. But you tell me.”
“Oh, sorry,” Nat said regretfully that evening over a rainy-evening dinner of mulligatawny soup and salad. “I made weekend plans already.”
“OK. I’ll find something else to do. Good plans? Date?”
“Yeh,” Nat said with satisfaction. “One of my students’ dads, can you believe it? Came in for a parent-teacher conference, and . . .” She shrugged. “Sparks flew.”
“Guess you weren’t telling him his child was out of control, then,” Jenna said dryly. “That’s the only time sparks ever flew during my parent-teacher conferences.”
“Fortunately, he has a well-behaved daughter. So it was all good. And amidst all the mutual complimenting, he managed to ask me out for a coffee, ‘to get my advice.’”
“And you gave him your advice,” Jenna guessed.
“Gave him more than that,” Nat said, a satisfied smile growing.
“How long has it been going on?” Jenna asked. “You haven’t said anything.”
“Well.” Natalie shrugged. “You know how it is. Or, you don’t,” she corrected. “But trust me. When you’ve been single as long as I have, you want to be sure before you start getting chuffed about it. It’s been a couple months now, though. Not a long time, but feeling more . . . more solid every week.”
“He’s dead nice,” she sighed. “And I know that sounds boring. But it isn’t. He’s an engineer. His wife went off with somebody else, year or so ago. More fool her, I say.”
“Long enough ago that he’s not in the rebound stage,” Jenna said. “He can’t get his dissolution yet, but he isn’t reeling through those first months, either. That’s great news, Nat. I’m really pleased for you. And if my coming over on Mondays gets inconvenient, say the word.”
“Nah. We’re just doing the weekends, so far. Specially when his ex has the kids.”
“More than one, then.”
“Yeh. The boy’s older. Year Four. We’re keeping it low-key for now, going slowly.”
“Not too slowly, I take it.”
“Well . . .” Natalie laughed. “A girl’s got to have a shag now and then, after all.”
“How about a free babysitter, Saturday night?” Jenna asked Siobha
n the next morning.
“Why?” Siobhan asked, looking up to thank their server as their coffees were delivered to the café table. “Are you volunteering?”
“Yeah. Finn’s taking the kids out before the Argentina trip, so I suddenly have a free evening. And nothing to do. Don’t make me hide in my room. Please. Let me come over and watch Cinderella with Caitlin instead.”
“Nah. We can do better than that,” Siobhan decided. “Come out with us. We’ll get an actual babysitter.”
“With you and Declan?” Jenna stared at her. “That’s not exactly a date for you.”
“Nah. With us and Declan’s mate,” Siobhan explained. “Richard Evans. He’s separated from his wife, just starting to go out again. I think you might like him. He’s a pretty good bloke. Declan’s accountant.”
“My heart’s going pitter-pat already,” Jenna said gloomily. “I don’t know. I’ve never even met the guy.”
“Hence. The date,” Siobhan enunciated.
“I should tell you, I’m still married,” Jenna admitted. “Technically, anyway. For a few more weeks.”
“And so is he,” Siobhan pointed out. “You don’t have to shag the bloke. Just have a bit of a laugh, some adult conversation, let somebody else pay for dinner. You’ve been babysitting so much, Declan and I’ve run out of topics for discussion. Come on, give us something to gossip about on the way home.”
“All right,” Jenna smiled reluctantly. “But we’re all going together. I don’t want someone I don’t know coming to the house to pick me up.”
“Done. Let me check with Declan, and I’ll get back to you. Assuming we can get it all sorted, we’ll be by to collect you. I’m thinking around eight.”
“So, you two, how’re you going with the wedding plans?”
Finn turned his head to look at the speaker, Hemi Ranapia’s wife Reka. The group of players and their partners were all relaxed now, sitting over the remains of their Friday dinner on Drew and Hannah’s spacious deck. The sparkling waters of Waitemata Harbour were no longer visible below now that night had fallen, but the lights of the City and the Harbour Bridge, not to mention a brightly lit cruise ship coming in to dock at Princes Wharf, provided their own spectacular view.
Just for Now: Escape to New Zealand Book Three Page 11