The Marry-Me Wish

by Alison Roberts

  Yes. He was talking about a restoration job on his property. Contractors. Julia didn’t seem to be listening any more than Anne had been. She was looking at her sister and as Anne met her gaze, she was drawn into the close connection they had always had. The ability to communicate without words so easily. And this was such a familiar pattern of reassurance. Julia was worried. More than that. In that glance, Anne realised she hadn’t been hiding her confusion about the babies as well as she’d thought. There was an awful lot riding on how she handled this.

  I understand, she signalled silently with a tiny smile. But everything’s going to work out just fine, you’ll see.

  ‘What do you think, Annie?’ Mac was looking just as anxious as Julia.

  ‘No,’ she said again. The word lacked the conviction of her earlier refusal, however. She was trying to think of an alternative.

  David was looking uncomfortable. Maybe he was regretting his offer? ‘Do you have any other friends you could land on at short notice?’ he asked.

  ‘No.’ A quiet word this time. Was David implying that he could be a friend? A friend? How could it sound like such a small, insignificant thing when only an hour or two ago she’d been trying to catch his gaze? To smile at him and let him know that she approved of him describing her as nothing more than that.

  This was really rock bottom, wasn’t it? Here she was, virtually incapacitated and faced with two choices that were equally undesirable for very different reasons. Both of them were emotional minefields.

  Another glance at Julia finally made the decision simple. Neither choice would be great for herself but one would definitely be much better for her baby sister. She couldn’t stay here using up a bed in a busy emergency department when she didn’t need to. Nobody in this room was going to allow her an independent choice like a hotel and she was too tired to fight. It would only be for a day or two after all. A mere blink in a lifetime.

  ‘David’s house is a lot closer to mine,’ she said. ‘It would certainly make it easier to supervise getting my place sorted.’

  ‘And you’d be doing me a favour,’ David nodded. ‘For the same reason. I’ve only got a limited time frame to get the work done on my house. Having someone they think might be looking over their shoulders occasionally would keep the workmen on track.’

  There. It was settled. Anne managed to smile. Now that the decision was made she had a goal. All she had to do was focus and get her home and then her life back in order. Knowledge was power. Strength. She could do this.

  ‘I’d like a quick cuddle with those babies, please,’ she said calmly. ‘And then you’d better get them home.’

  ‘Before they start howling again, you mean?’ Mac’s tone was gentle as he stepped forward to place one of the neatly wrapped bundles in Anne’s arms.

  ‘Exactly. One of the many benefits in being an aunty.’

  The guest suite was next to the garage complex but the bedroom had a pretty bay window that would have a lovely outlook into the garden in the daylight. It also had a small sitting room with a desk and couch and, thankfully, it had its own bathroom. No need to risk running into David elsewhere in the house.

  ‘No shower, sorry, but you’re welcome to go upstairs and use the main bathroom when you feel up to it.’

  ‘This is fine,’ she assured him. ‘What a fabulous old bath.’

  ‘The feet look a bit rusty.’ David poked one of the cast iron claws with his foot, sending flakes of rust onto cracked linoleum. He turned a big, brass tap on and a stream of rusty water came out. Something clanged ominously within the walls.

  ‘Maybe this isn’t such a good idea,’ he muttered.

  ‘No…’ The prospect of David changing his mind was disturbing. Now that Anne had made the difficult decision she wanted to be here. Kind of. ‘Look…the water’s coming clear now. It just hasn’t been used for a while.’

  ‘There’s a plumber due tomorrow to have a look at things. There’s someone coming from an electrical firm as well. I used the time you were in ED to make a few calls and found a representative from an interior design company who’s keen to come and do a quote. She says they’ve won all sorts of awards for their restoration work. They all know I’ve left a key for them outside but I hope they won’t disturb you too much.’

  ‘No problem.’ Anne moved back to her bedroom. The suitcase David had carried in was on the floor beside the old brass bed. ‘Do I need some linen?’

  ‘I’ll take care of that.’

  The thought of David tucking in sheets and putting fresh cases on the pillows for her was embarrassing. Too personal. The tension in the room suddenly escalated.

  ‘You need to rest,’ he reminded her. ‘Hauling things around or lifting heavy stuff is not on the agenda.’

  Anne couldn’t help smiling.

  ‘Hey! I’m not joking here.’

  ‘I know. Thank you for your concern.’

  His eyes were still narrowed suspiciously. ‘So why were you smiling?’

  ‘You sounded as stern as Mac and Julia did back when I first got pregnant. It always amused me because I felt like I’d spent my whole life worrying about Jules. It was a bit of a U-turn to have her fussing over me.’

  Special, though, to have someone so concerned about her physical well-being. To feel so cared for.

  ‘I’m not fussing,’ David assured her. ‘Just being sensible. I don’t want to be scooping you up and carting you back to the emergency department again.’

  ‘Perish the thought.’ One that was even more embarrassing than having household chores like changing bed linen being done on her behalf.

  Was David also embarrassed by the reminder of being forced to hold her in his arms for so long? The silence certainly felt horribly awkward.

  ‘I haven’t even thanked you for rescuing me.’

  David shrugged. ‘Just in the right place at the right time, I guess. Now, why don’t you find the kitchen and make sure you’ll be able to find everything you need in the morning? It’ll only take me a minute to sort this lot out.’

  Obediently, Anne made a slow circuit of the ground floor. Things were just as she remembered them in the big, farmhouse-style kitchen. A glance into the refrigerator was a surprise. So was the pantry.

  ‘You look like you’ve prepared for a siege,’ she said when she returned to her room to find David stuffing the last pillow into a fresh white case. ‘So much food!’

  ‘Mmm.’ David put the pillow down and gave it a prod. ‘I’ve discovered the convenience of online shopping. Guess I went a bit overboard.’

  No surprises there for a man who loved to plan things in meticulous detail. He was like that in his work, too. Nothing got missed. He’d wanted to plan his future like that, too, hadn’t he? To make sure he didn’t miss out on anything. Like a family.

  Again, the silence was awkward. So full of shards of the past that had to be avoided to risk injury.

  David cleared his throat. ‘It’s getting late. I’ll leave you to settle in. I put towels in the bathroom.’

  ‘Thanks.’ Exhaustion was setting in. The aftermath of the physical and mental roller-coaster she’d been on for days now. Anne eyed the high bed and soft looking pillows. ‘Sleep is looking like a very good idea.’

  David turned back again as he was going through the doorway. He wasn’t smiling but there was a softening to his face that deepened the lines around his eyes and made his lips look fuller. Softer. A kind of precursor to a smile. Or a kiss…

  ‘I’m only upstairs,’ he said. ‘If you need any help in the night.’

  Anne opened her eyes to bright sunlight coming in through windows she had neglected to pull curtains on. The moment of wondering where the hell she was turned into astonishment that she must have fallen into a deep and dreamless sleep the instant her head had touched those wonderful feather pillows.

  She felt rested. So much better, in fact, it was a shock to find her head reeling when she tried to stand up. It took a good minute for the dizziness to rec
ede but making it to the bathroom and finding that her bleeding had virtually ceased made up for feeling as weak as a kitten. The pain had gone from her belly as well. Even her breasts felt much less tender.

  Not that she had time for more than a quick physical self-assessment. A glance at her watch made her jaw drop. She had slept for nearly twelve hours and it was 9:30 a.m. She would be lucky to have time to make herself look respectable and find time for a coffee before the first of the contractors arrived.

  There was an eerie silence to the house when she made her way to the kitchen. David would be long gone. Had he felt her presence in the house this morning, the way she was aware of his absence?

  Maybe. There was a note held onto the fridge door with a smiley magnet button.

  Checked on you before I left, it said. Didn’t want to wake you. Be home around 7 p.m. Call or text if you need to.

  He’d checked on her? Been in her bedroom and watched her sleeping? For how long? The thought of him standing in the same room while she had been in bed created a warmth that moved from her belly right up into her cheeks. It wasn’t embarrassment this time. It was…

  Not something she was going to analyse. She read the note again instead. It finished with his mobile phone number but she had no intention of interrupting his working day if she could help it.

  She almost changed her mind less than an hour later.

  ‘What sort of fittings are going in?’ The plumber had come looking for her.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Well, you can go reproduction. Some of it’s lovely stuff, like copper cisterns and slippers baths and the like. But if you’re looking to modernise, it will affect the pipes. You can conceal cisterns in the wall, for instance. And have a hanging loo that leaves a gap underneath. Easier for cleaning around, you know? Any idea which way you might be heading?’

  Anne had to shake her head. ‘Sorry but it’s not up to me. I can make a note and get the owner to call you.’

  ‘Oh…’ the plumber looked disconcerted. ‘I thought you were the missus.’

  Whatever could have given him that idea?

  Had it been because she’d complied with his request on arrival to show him where the main bathroom was? Had something shown in her body language? It had been impossible not to have those flashbacks to the first time David had ever led her up that magnificent sweep of ornate wooden staircase. Holding her hand. Stopping, too many times to count, to kiss her senseless on their way to his bedroom.

  ‘No,’ she told him. ‘I’m just a friend.’

  It was surprisingly easy to say. After a good night’s sleep, the implications of that word had changed again. Become something if not desirable then acceptable.

  Better than nothing, anyway.

  Anne found a pad of paper and a pen and noted all the plumber’s immediate queries. He went off to measure the pipes and a couple from an interior design firm arrived. They sailed around the house, becoming progressively more enthusiastic and bouncing ideas off each other after the initial, somewhat awed inspection.

  They ended up in the main living room. A wonderful, warm room with a fireplace big enough to roast the proverbial ox, ancient but supremely comfortable leather couches and armchairs and French doors that opened to a terrace and the garden beyond.

  It was a room Anne had always loved so it was too hard not to stop and eavesdrop as she went past on her way back to her room.

  ‘It’s divine,’ the slightly effeminate voice of the male decreed. ‘The feature ceiling. That fireplace!’

  ‘The stained glass is fabulous,’ the woman added. ‘But it’s all so dark. Positively medieval.’

  ‘It’s the wood. And those dark drapes. Ugh!’

  ‘We could paint the window frames. And the fireplace. Cover the floor.’

  ‘Get rid of all this antique furniture. It’s so masculine it’s virtually phallic.’

  ‘White on white,’ the woman said dreamily.

  ‘Oh…. oh, yes, darling. I’m loving it.’

  ‘The fireplace would be the feature.’

  ‘Yes. Yes. I’m seeing it full of… Ooh, silver spheres.’

  Anne had to walk away. She definitely needed to lie down for a while. What on earth was David thinking?

  Part of that first afternoon was taken up talking to the insurance assessor. The carpets in her cottage would be lifted tomorrow but he couldn’t be sure what was happening underneath. Some of the boards felt suspiciously spongy. Tiles in the kitchen were lifting as well. They would have to be taken up.

  ‘It might take a few days to get things dry enough to do anything,’ he warned.

  The prognosis sounded bleak enough to make being able to escape into the glorious tangle of David’s garden, and not think about any of it for a while, a blessing. There was almost an acre of lawns and trees that had one of the city’s small rivers as a boundary. Paths through herbaceous borders led to secret corners and there were any number of lovely nooks to sit in. Or there had been. Some of them were so overgrown only a patch of a stone or wooden bench or a sliver of a pathway flagstone could be seen.

  Meeting the landscape architect David had employed negated the pleasure the lengthy ramble had provided. The young man was busy sketching on a large sheet of paper and Anne smiled at his enthusiasm.

  ‘Gorgeous spot, isn’t it? This should be an exciting challenge for you.’

  ‘You bet it is. I’ve never had the chance to work with a house that’s crying out for the kind of dramatic foil this one could have.’

  ‘Oh?’ All it really needed was to have its original bones uncovered, surely?

  ‘A sweep of lawn, I think, all the way down to the river. Buxus hedging and some gorgeous standards. Bay trees, maybe.’

  ‘Spheres?’ Anne suggested drily.

  ‘Exactly. And a water feature. Piped music. Dramatic lighting when we’ve cleared enough of that jungle from under the trees. That gazebo will have to go, of course. Or get moved. It’s completely obstructing the vista from the main entertainment area.’

  ‘The main entertainment area? What’s that?’

  ‘I presume he meant the big living room and the terrace.’

  ‘And the vista?’ David was popping the tab on a can of chilled lager, having found Anne at the kitchen table with a cup of tea and a notepad full of scribbles.

  Her tea was cold now because she’d been sitting in here for an hour, trying not to think about how things might be when David got home. What on earth they could find to talk about that would be safe? The kind of thing that friends might talk about.

  She needn’t have worried. Reporting back on the visitors to the property was quite enough of a topic.

  ‘The straight line from the terrace to the river,’ she explained to David. ‘At least, it’ll be a straight line once the gazebo gets shifted. Or bulldozed along with the outdated herbaceous borders.’

  David put his can down on the old kauri table. He loosened his tie and undid the top button of his shirt. Anne averted her gaze hurriedly but couldn’t help the way it was drawn back. Just in time to see him pushing his fingers through his hair. She recognised both the action and the gesture. David was feeling trapped. Unsure. It reminded her of a lion pacing a cage but how much of that tension was to do with what she was telling him? Maybe it was due to her presence. The fact that they were together in a confined space.

  ‘My parents must be rolling over in their graves. The years my mother spent on making that into a prizewinning garden.’ He sat down and sighed. ‘What did the decorators have to say?’

  Anne didn’t need to consult her notes. What she’d overheard had been echoing in her head all afternoon. By the time she finished telling David, he was staring at her in utter bemusement.

  ‘Balls?’ he finally muttered. ‘They want to fill the fireplace with silver balls?’

  ‘Spheres,’ Anne corrected. A corner of her mouth twitched.

  David held her gaze. ‘Balls,’ he said again.

  Anne cou
ldn’t help her unladylike snort of mirth. David held out for a moment longer but then tipped his head back and laughed.

  A sound Anne hadn’t heard in so long.

  It opened doors she had avoided, assuming they were locked. Avenues to happy times together. The kind of silliness that could only be engaged in when you were so closely connected to another person that it didn’t matter. When you loved them so much that trust was a given.

  And then David’s head straightened and his gaze brushed hers and then held it. Just for an instant. Long enough to know that he felt that old connection as well. For a heartbeat, they stared at each other. And then they both looked away.

  ‘I’m not having any balls,’ David said. ‘Inside or out. I’ll be telling these people exactly what they can do with their quotes.’

  ‘The plumber wasn’t so bad. At least he suggested fittings that would fit the era of the house and restore a bit of its former glory.’

  David was silent while he took a long mouthful of his drink.

  ‘That’s what I had in mind, I guess. I know this place looks tired and the garden’s a mess but I don’t want to change it. I certainly don’t want it to end up looking like some professional template of what’s trendy in landscaping or interior design.’ His tone softened and became almost wistful. ‘I wanted it to look like a home again. Like someone loves it.’

  Anne’s heart skipped a beat. This mattered. But why? Was David thinking of living here again? And why should that cause a frisson of excitement? She kept her nod neutral, hoping it was one of sympathy. An encouragement to keep talking, perhaps, but David wasn’t looking at her. He was staring at his can of beer and shaking his head.

  ‘There’s no point going any further if it’s going to be like this. I might as well just put the place on the market as is and let someone else do the restoration.’

  ‘You’re selling?’ The word was a gasp. ‘But…you love this place. It’s—’ She had been going to say ‘it’s your home’ but the words had caught. It wasn’t any more, was it?