by Joanne Hill
She closed the front door and glanced at her wristwatch. It had just only gone three, yet Jack’s car was parked in front of the garage. She listened carefully for the sound of footsteps, music or running water but there was nothing to indicate he was even inside the house.
She helped Ruby off with her backpack, the straps twisted around her blanket.
Again, she strained to hear any sound but there was nothing. It wasn’t usual for Jack to be home this early, but maybe he did want to spend time with Eric. Maybe the visit to Kopane yesterday had hit home just how short they were on time.
“Go on upstairs,” she told the children, as she set her bag and keys on the hall table. “Put your backpacks away then come on down and I’ll get you some afternoon tea.”
She went through to the kitchen and poured out juice for the children. She set out cracker biscuits, sliced cheese and fruit, and took mugs down from the cupboard. She had just pulled open a drawer when out of the corner of her eye she saw Jack stop in the doorway.
He was still dressed in his business suit and tie. Odd, she thought vaguely, trying to read the expression in his eyes, eyes that refused to look directly at her. The few times he'd gotten home early, he'd changed into jeans and a t-shirt.
Suddenly, the twins ran though from the hall with Eric in hot pursuit, laughingly branding them “cheaters”. They raced to the barstools, and clambered up, barely acknowledging the adults as they shared a not-too-private joke.
Eric claimed the middle seat without question. It had become their new tradition. He was the visitor, the foreigner, the boy who had traveled over 8,000 miles around the world and who said words funny.
Robyn set the glasses in front of them, consciously aware of Jack still in the doorway, still not moving, still not speaking.
Whatever it was she knew, without him having to say a thing, that it wasn’t good. Her fingers trembled suddenly, making the glasses clang together.
She stepped back, and glanced at him.
He was watching Eric with a bleak intensity that caught in her throat.
With forced casualness she said, “Can I get you anything?”
He met her gaze slowly, then shook his head. She watched him exhale.
She shot a look at Eric who was chatting, laughing, teasing the twins.
Suddenly Jack spun on his heels, and stalked wordlessly from the room.
Confused, Robyn watched his retreating back until he was out of sight. What had just happened?
She was already following him as she said to the children, “I’m just going to talk to Jack for a bit. Help yourselves to the crackers, okay?”
“Yes, Mom,” the twins chorused.
Her nerves had begun to jump steadily at the base of her spine and she walked out to find Jack in the foyer, his head down as he gripped the hall table with both hands. He looked up as she approached, his mouth tightening.
She stopped inches from him. “What’s going on?”
He moved back from the table and said, “Sit down.” His voice was hoarse as he gestured to a leather stool against the wall.
She didn’t move. “I don’t think I’m the one who needs —”
“Robyn, just sit down.”
She stared at him a moment, at his grim eyes and the tight set to his jaw, at the pulse throbbing in his temple, and she took the seat. “If this is a way of making me feel better, then it’s not working.
He stood straight. “I had a phone call from Canada today.”
“Valerie,” she said, almost to herself. “What was she ringing about?”
“It wasn’t Valerie.” Something harsh, something she’d never seen before, sliced across his gaze, and he breathed in so deep she saw his chest rise, and watched it fall again.
“It wasn’t Valerie,” he repeated, the tone of his voice strangely even. “Robyn.” He rubbed his fist hard across his forehead, his eyes closed. He shook his head with a weariness she’d never seen in him before. “Robyn, Val died.”
She stared at him as shock dulled her brain.
He took her hands in his and repeated, “Val died.”
He squeezed her hands tighter, so tight it almost hurt.
“I don’t understand,” she said stupidly. “I don’t know what you’re trying to tell me.”
“Val is dead.” His voice was shaky now, and he said, “She passed away last night.”
“But...” It was beginning to filter through what had happened. Val was dead. “But...I don’t...what happened? Was it — was it an accident?” Eric's mother had died? Please, dear God, please don't let this be real.
He let out a breath that seemed to shake right through him. “She had cancer.”
Her heart jolted violently. “Cancer?”
“It seems that by the time it was diagnosed, it was too late for treatment. It was in her ovaries. It had spread.”
Robyn’s mind was beginning to cloud over, and her body was suddenly cold as the knowledge pounded over and over in her mind.
A woman her own age had lost her life.
A shudder went through her, so icy she felt the chill all the way to her feet. Eric had lost his mother.
She was aware of Jack rubbing his thumbs over her hands, aware that the contact felt reassuring.
A dozen questions began to stampede across her mind without let up, and she plucked one, suddenly desperate for answers.
“She knew she was going to die?”
Jack nodded.
“When she sent him out...” She gulped. “Eric coming here — how was that...I mean, was it...”
“It was planned. She took him to the airport knowing she only had weeks left. She died last night, Canadian time.”
Nausea welled madly and furiously in Robyn’s stomach, and at the same time, Eric’s voice pitched loud above the twins, so innocent, and so utterly happy.
“No.” The sound tore silently from her lungs. No. There should have been a perfect end to this perfect day. Not this. Not this.
“I know.” Jack tightened his grip on her, holding her gaze with his own. He knew. He was feeling it. Jack, the man who had avoided commitment, had avoided getting in too deep, had now just been thrust right into the pit of it. “I have to tell him.”
“Oh, Jack.” Her voice cracked.
She didn’t know Val Wright. She'd been suspicious of her all along, of her motives for sending Eric out to stay with a man he didn’t know.
“I still don’t understand...” Her voice faltered again. “Did Eric have any idea she was ill?”
Jack's eyes were bleak, tortured. He let go of her hands and rose to his feet. “The only thing Eric knew was that she wasn’t well. He knew she was going into hospital but he understood it was brief. She hid the severity of it from him this whole time.”
She shut her eyes.
Jack said, “He's expecting her to come right back out again. To be there to pick him up at Toronto airport in a few days.”
Robyn buried her face in her hands and Jack said in a flat, emotionless voice, “I should get more answers tomorrow. Papers are being FedExed from Toronto.”
She stood up then, straightened. “If you want me to, I’ll be there with you. When you tell him.”
For a moment he didn’t speak but relief flashed deeply across his eyes. “You don’t have to. This isn’t your job.”
“I know it isn’t. I know.” She willed him to accept, to take what she was offering him, because it was coming from her heart and right now it was the only thing she could give him. “But I want to be there.”
She thought relief flashed across his eyes again, but it was difficult to tell with the grim, stony expression, an expression that refused to budge.
Instead, he nodded, and squeezed her hands in acknowledgement.
“Thank you,” he said quietly.
Robyn put on a DVD to keep Ruby and James occupied. She told them Jack needed to talk to Eric, and she made the twins each a huge Hokey Pokey ice cream in a cone. She left them happily pulling ch
unks of toffee from the ice cream and she went on up the staircase to Eric’s room.
The door was ajar and she stepped noiselessly through. Jack was sitting on the edge of the bed, his elbows on his knees watching Eric build up a spaceship out of Lego.
Jack asked quietly, “They’re okay?”
She nodded. “Watching a video. They’ll be fine for a while.”
“What are they watching?” Eric asked, struggling up. “I’ll just go down with them and —”
“Wait.” Jack reached out and gripped his elbow. “You can go later. I promise. Just not right yet.”
Eric watched Jack uncertainly and shot a curious stare at Robyn.
“Okay,” he said, looking at them both suspiciously.
Robyn put her clenched fist against her mouth, nausea sitting in her stomach. In a few minutes he wasn't going to be the same, ever. In a few minutes he was going to know the worst moment of his life.
Jack patted the bed. “Come on up here, and sit with me.”
Eric came up and glanced expectantly at Jack. There was trust in his expression. It had taken the past few weeks to achieve that, and it could so easily have gone the other way.
Jack inhaled, long and deep. It was as if everything happened in slow motion. His chest rose beneath the crisp, white shirt, and Robyn saw the exact moment drops of sweat broke out on his forehead.
He gestured to her to sit on the other side, and she joined him, sitting alongside Eric. His body was warm and small next to her, and when Jack’s arm went around Eric, it brushed her arm. They'd remember this moment the rest of their lives. The smell of the room, the touch of each other, the sound of Jack’s voice.
“Eric,” Jack said quietly. There was strength in his voice. “Eric, do you remember how your mom wasn’t well when you left Canada?”
Eric nodded. “She had to go into hospital. She went when I left.” A thought suddenly seemed to occur to him and he turned to Jack. “Has she got better yet?”
Robyn couldn't suppress a shiver as Eric's words sounded loud in the quiet room.
“No. She isn’t better.” Jack met Robyn’s gaze, and she gave a brief nod, her heart so heavy for Eric she could barely hold it together.
“Eric, I’m sorry but your mother isn’t better...” There was a moment, a brief moment when she thought he might not be able to go ahead and say the words.
“Eric your mom was really sick. So sick that... Eric, your mom died. She was in hospital and she was really sick and I’m so sorry but...”
Jack choked up and couldn't say the words.
Eric glanced from Jack to Robyn, confusion in his eyes. She took his hand in his, squeezed it but he was barely aware of it.
Then suddenly his body shook as if he’d been smacked so sharply it had knocked the wind out of him and she saw the moment his eyes widened in shock as he understood.
“Mom?” he said, his voice suddenly high pitched.
“I'm so sorry,” Jack said again. Tears made their way down his face.
“Mommy?” Eric pleaded, and he swung towards Robyn with shock and pain in his eyes, hope that she would tell him his dad was a big fat liar and it wasn’t true at all.
Her throat felt stuffed with cotton wool. “Eric, I’m so sorry.”
His body began to shake. He was trying to hold in the tears — Robyn could feel that he was trying not to cry with everything he had in him, but he was on the losing end of the battle and they came fast, streaking down his cheeks as he turned blindly to Jack, and Jack wrapped his arms tight around him, holding his son’s head against his shoulder.
He murmured words in his ear as he rocked the small, sobbing body close to him, and Robyn moved back, wiping her cheeks with the back of her hand, not really sure what to do. Her voice trembled as she said, “Is there anything...anything you need?”
“No.” Jack’s voice shook. “I’ll stay up here with Eric.”
She clasped her hands. She felt useless. “I’ll make tea.”
He wiped his cheeks. “I doubt we'll eat much.”
“I know.” Her voice cracked and she was aware of the awful constriction in her chest and knew if she didn’t get out now she’d be a blubbering mess and neither of them needed that. “But it’ll give me something to do.”
Ethan came over as soon as he heard the news, and when Jack came downstairs after Eric had finally fallen asleep, he was stunned to find Mrs Parker in the kitchen, making Eric’s favorite cookies.
She came over to him, wrapped her meaty arms around him so tight he nearly lost his breath, and said, “No one on God's earth should have to do what you did today, Jack Fletcher. No one.”
Ethan stayed the night, and Jack admitted it felt good knowing he was there.
The twins had been told the news, and Jack spent the night in Eric’s room, but he barely slept.
Mrs Parker turned up early with fresh donuts and pastries, Sage and Harriet came to take the twins out for the day, and even Collette had rung first thing to reassure him that everything was under control in the office.
It was odd. They were all doing what a family was meant to do. Stepping in to help ease the burden. To show they cared.
Jack had been kidding himself that he preferred to be isolated from people. He had people.
And of course, there was Robyn.
She had been the one that had eased the pain the most. Just by a look, he could feel better, by a squeeze of her hand, by the reassurance just being there gave him.
The buzz of the gate sounded, shaking him abruptly out of his thoughts, and he stalked to the intercom.
“Fed Ex for Mr Fletcher,” the voice said.
He opened the gate to let the courier in, then went to the front door and swung it open. The sun was gleaming bright, the glare listing off the view of the harbor peeking between cycads. He pushed away the notion that it was a perfect day.
The solicitor’s name was emblazoned across the thin manila package, and he signed for it, inhaling sharply at the now familiar ache in his chest.
He tapped the envelope on his thigh. The truth was that this will or letter, whatever the heck it was, was the last thing he wanted to read. It had only been twenty-four hours, even if it felt so much longer than that.
He stepped inside and was surprised to see Eric trudging solemnly along.
“Hey,” Jack gently tugged his ear. “How you doing?”
He shrugged. “Dunno.”
His eyes were red ringed, his cheeks raw from the trail made by a night’s worth of salt tears.
“Tell you what. Go on through to the kitchen and I’ll get you something to eat.”
“When are Ruby and Jamie coming back?” he murmured quietly, so softly it took Jack an effort to decipher his words.
It was Jack’s turn to shrug. “Sage is bringing them back in time for tea.”
“’Kay,” Eric mumbled. He was about to head off to the kitchen when he hesitated. He turned to look back at him and Jack swallowed hard on the lump in his throat. Eric’s eyes were wide and round, as dark as midnight, and filled with such desolate sadness. Jack gestured to the envelope. “I’ll stick this away and be right back down.”
Eric turned and made his way slowly, laboring, and Jack took the stairs two at a time.
In the study, he slotted the envelope carefully into the desk drawer, pushed it shut and took the stairs rapidly so he could spend time with a child he had no idea how to help.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
The day dragged and they ordered pizza because it was Eric’s favorite. Robyn laid the boxes across the big dining table, and handed paper napkins out to everyone.
It was herself, Jack and the children now. Ethan had ordered in all the pizza, but hadn't stayed. He'd headed back to his house with a couple of boxes for him and Emily.
Robyn took a piece. It was a miracle he'd even gotten away while the pizza was still hot. Sage had confronted him on the front door step and accused him of driving a gas guzzler and he'd politely told her to get he
r own house in order. That van she owned had a dodgy exhaust and gave off enough fumes to power the entire North Shore. She'd taken off in a huff and Ethan had muttered something about “crazy woman” and left a minute after. The good news, however, was that Emily had found a new apartment and was moving in tomorrow.
Now they sat around the table, barely eating as the minutes passed in silence.
Eric silently nibbled a piece of pizza. Even Ruby and James were picking up on the sadness and were eerily quiet.
Robyn poured them all cola, and watched them closely as they darted glances over at Eric and Jack. The thought suddenly jumped into her mind.
What would happen to them if I died?
She swallowed down hard on a throat that had taken a beating the past twenty-four hours. She hadn't thought about it ever, at least not seriously. There had never been any godparents. Her parents, she supposed, would care for them. And Kelly — maybe.
Although neither of them sat at all comfortably with her. Even if she couldn't put her finger on just why, they didn't.
The obvious choice should have been Edwin.
She tried to picture him with James and Ruby, loving them, caring for them. He'd barely been around the first year of their lives when they had lived together and now he barely acknowledged their birthdays.
No. Not Edwin.
Her gaze fastened on Jack, and she drew a sudden breath. He'd be perfect.
He sat across the table from her, watching Eric with the eyes of a hawk, not even touching his own food. Well, maybe he wouldn't be perfect but—
Yes, darn it, he would be perfect.
And yet Jack didn’t come close to seeing himself in the role of father. Robyn set her pizza down as she considered this. Any child would be lucky to have him as their dad. His strength, his loyalty. His love. Oh, there were other factors. He was financially secure but he also had a past and he understood a lot about how tough life could be. He had empathy. A thud hit her chest. Any woman would be lucky to have him as her man.