Ember Flowers

by April Worth

  The sandy haired man looked confused, rubbing his stubbled chin. “Then what? You like her, she likes you..”

  “Complicated Scott. I can’t talk about it.”

  He huffed in annoyance, they always talked, since forever. It stung. It felt like she didn’t trust him. “Fine, don’t talk to me, your oldest friend. But at least talk to her, she really likes you, and you get that stupid smile every time she’s in the room. Don’t blow it.” He turned and left, giving her one last look as his hand brushed the doorframe.

  Jean hunched over her desk. She sighed, wiping her eyes.

  Chapter 25

  When Jo arrived home she scowled as she pulled up in the driveway. The familiar silhouette of her ex husband, shooting the breeze with Kerry over the fence. Fantastic. Her neighbour shot her rolled eyes when Owen wasn’t looking.

  She hoisted her groceries into her arms, a free hand clicking the car locked as she jostled the bags. She could hear Owen excuse himself from conversation, his footfalls over the grass as he ran to help her.

  “Jo! Jo, wait let me help you?” A few quick strides and he was at her side. He tried to take the bags from her, scoring an annoyed look as she continued past.

  “Owen, dammit you have shitty timing, don’t you know when to leave me alone?”

  She fumbled for her keys. He reached past her arms, unlocking the door for her with his set. Grey eyes narrowed at him, trying to guess his game. He pushed the door open for her and stood aside, waiting for her to step over the threshold.

  “Sorry Jo, I just wanted to talk. Thought it would be better if I waited outside.”

  She nodded stiffly as she walked past and into the hall, she could smell the heat of the oven, and something cooking. It made her suspicious.

  “Owen..what have you..?”

  As she turned the corner she saw the candlelight, the two place settings, a bottle of wine, arranged flowers in a garland as a centrepiece.

  She stood still and took in the details, he was able to take the bags from her and place them on the counter.

  His voice was soft and apologetic. “Listen, Jo. I’m sorry. I know I’ve been an asshole but I just want to talk, OK? You don’t like it and I’ll leave. You won’t get any argument from me.”

  Grey eyes looked at him warily, and yet, he looked so quiet, crestfallen. “I’ve heard that before.”

  “Please?” He gestured that she take a seat, pulling out the chair for her. He was wearing that shirt she liked, the one she bought him for his birthday one year that he never bothered to wear. His blue eyes stood out against the navy collar. His chest nicely sculpted in its tailored fit. She sat down, watching him.

  She was still dubious, looking around the room. He uncorked the bottle, reaching over and pouring for her first.

  “I thought I owed you a nice dinner, or twenty.”

  Jo rolled her eyes as he took a seat across from her.

  “So what do you want?” She huffed.

  He sighed, gazing across to her, his eyes paying her unconscious compliments. “To apologise. I..I’ve treated you so badly Joanne. I can’t ever apologise enough.”

  She took a sip of the wine, it tasted expensive, her eyes remained trained on him. “Go on?”

  He sighed softly as she looked over her plate. He’d made one of her favourites, well, the only thing he could cook. It looked like an effort was made.

  “Jo, I wasn’t much of a man for you, much of a husband. But even though I know things went bad between us..I still..I still think about you so much. What we had, what we wanted together.”

  She nodded, not looking at him.

  “You were my wonderful, beautiful wife, gave me my sweet little girl and I just..I guess I didn’t know how to handle it. Work..never seeing you. We stopped talking Jo.”

  Jo gritted her teeth, remembering all the fights. This was the first time she’d felt brave enough to talk to him about it, to stay. Usually she’d just try to leave when the plates and words started flying. She shot him a steely glare, the words hissed out with an unexpected strength. “Wasn’t much to say once all the screaming stopped.”

  He looked up at her surprised. “I know baby. I know. I’m sorry.”

  “Jo, I have no right to be in your life after all this. I know that now. But for Annabelle, I..I want to make this right. Whatever you need me to do. I’m already talking to a shrink.”

  The blonde leant back in her chair, the sorrow was written all over his face, but they’d done this dance before. Perhaps just not with a home cooked meal. Apologies, promises of never hurting her again, then make up sex and tender words.

  She looked down at the table. The garland of flowers reminded her of Jean’s front porch. Vivid reds and gold. Another one who let her down. Jean still wasn’t answering her calls. It was obvious she was being avoided. The older woman had offered no explanation, leading Jo to her own conclusions. She reached out to touch a flower, velvety in her fingertips.

  “How do I know this isn’t bullshit Owen? I wanted a divorce because I didn’t want my little girl thinking it was OK for a man to throw her around.”

  His lip quivered. He sighed. “Jo. I’m shit without you. I know that. Always work..I never see you. I’ll figure it out..so we can see each other more, I’ve been talking to the shrink about that too. He thinks it’s a good idea.”

  He went to pour her more wine and she shook her head.

  He took the barely touched plate from her, she didn’t seem interested. Stacking it with his own and taking them over to the sink. She stood and followed, amazed, seeing him clean up after himself. It was a novelty.

  “I realise that I need to take more responsibility for my little girl, need to see her more.” He spoke over his shoulder, his hands covered in suds and dish washing liquid.

  “She misses you sometimes.” Jo added softly, leaning against the counter.

  “I miss her too, and you.” His blue eyes gentled. “Baby what happened? We used to be so wonderful together.”

  She growled softly, crossing her arms. “You know what happened, you decided I was your punching bag. I’m not putting up with that anymore.”

  He wiped off his hands with the nearby towel, and settled them gently on her shoulders. So close he could kiss her. He wanted to. Badly. His eyes flicked to her soft, sensual lips.

  “I wouldn’t want you to. I’m serious. I’ve..I’ve worked some of my shit out.”

  Jo gave him a pointed look but didn’t pull away. He held out his arms. She looked at him suspiciously.

  “I just want to hug you babe. That’s it. Is that OK?”

  The tall woman was stiff, unsure, but she gave him the benefit of the doubt. Slipping easily into his arms. The smell of his cologne, the solidity of his body was warm and familiar. He pulled back, running his fingertips over her cheek. He wanted to kiss her but her eyes were clearly saying no. His arms slid around her again.

  He kissed her hair instead, taking in the scent of her. “Beautiful, beautiful Jo. I don’t deserve you.”

  “Owen..”

  He nuzzled her ear. “God I miss you. I forgive you, you know.”

  It took a second for his words to sink in, she pulled away to look at him. “Forgive me? Forgive me for what?”

  “You know what for, for..seeing that woman.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest, stepping back, out of his reach. “I don’t need to apologise for anything Owen, I want a divorce. As far as I’m concerned I don’t answer to you.”

  He chuckled darkly, musing on some thought. “I’m surprised you’d admit to it so easily. Here I thought you’d deny it?”

  She cringed. “Yeah, well..I thought she was something she wasn’t. Maybe I just needed a break from you?”

  He shook his head, putting away the clean dishes. He knew where they all went. “I’m sorry Jo. I didn’t realise I’d driven you that far away?”

  She felt the need to defend her, even though it felt like Jean had thrown her aside. “She’s not like
that Owen.”

  He huffed softly. “Not like what? Seems like she got pretty busy around here? Kerry’s beaming about her.”

  Jo’s brow arched. “She’s good at what she does.”

  He shook his head, touching her cheek. “Honey, she used you, but I’m thankful for it if it brought you to your senses.”

  “Used me?”

  He gave his best sympathetic, consoling look, hugging her gently. “I know about the hotel Jo. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry. The card? Remember? I can access the account.”

  She scowled. The credit card, he had one too. He must have seen the transaction, would have seen the room details. The honeymoon suite. She’d forgotten to get that changed, she used the card so rarely.

  He squeezed her again. “Baby I’m sorry. But it’s for the best. She could never give you what I can, and I think she knew that.”

  Jo stiffened. Something about this wasn’t right.

  “Why do you say that?”

  He released her and turned away, wiping up after himself, little spots of blue dish washing liquid on the sink.

  “I knew it from when I first saw her. That she wanted you. Damn dyke was on the prowl. You didn’t think she’d ever be willing to take care of you? Of Annabelle?”

  Jo’s blonde brows drew together. “We didn’t talk much about Annabelle.”

  He sneered. “Bet you didn’t talk much at all huh?”

  She shot him an icy look. Grey eyes arctic “What I do when we’re apart is none of your business.”

  He gripped the tea towel hard to stop his hand from shaking. “It’s my business when it involves my little girl. I don’t want her thinking that seeing you fool around was OK.”

  She stood beside him. “Since when have you cared about what she thought?”

  He was glowering. “Since I saw you with..her. At the markets that day, crossing the street. She had her hands on my little girl. I don’t care if it was a man or a woman..”

  “You saw us? What? You were..following me?” Her pulse quickened under her skin, feeling hot under the collar. The thickness of her uniform making her sweat.

  “Yeah..I was worried about you. Needed to know you were OK.”

  Jo threw her hands up in the air. “Unfucking believable Owen.” He looked at her, surprised by her anger, her ferocity.

  “C’mon Jo!? You’d do the same thing?”

  She jabbed a finger at his sculpted chest. “Never. Ever.” She turned, exasperated, glad her daughter wasn’t with her. A greater realisation hit. “I suppose you checked her out huh? Did your research?”

  “What man wouldn’t?”

  “Jesus Owen? What the hell is wrong with you? You haven’t changed at all.”

  “That’s not true! After that morning at the marina I knew I had to do something. I saw the look on your face as you went with her. You hated me, you were scared of me. I bet she was smirking all the way home?”

  Suddenly it made sense. The cop in her had the cogs turning, putting pieces in place.

  “You said something to her. Didn’t you?”

  His silence was as good an answer as any. The growing sneer on his face some sort of twisted bravado. His crossed his arms. “Whatever she says it’s a lie.”

  “Get the hell away from me Owen. I have nothing to say to you.” Shaking her head angrily. She picked up her bag to leave, thinking to herself, still seething. She stopped in the hall and turned back toward him.

  “No. You know what Owen? I’m always leaving. You go for a change. Get out of here!” The policewoman struggled to keep her voice even, not giving him an inch, pointing to the door.

  “This is my fucking house too Jo.” His arms crossed angrily over his chest.

  She growled, turning on her heel to stalk down the hall toward the bedroom. He followed behind her. A hot breath behind her as she moved away.

  “Jo, what are you doing?”

  The tall woman pulled out a gym bag, stuffing a shirt and other clothes into it. She turned, walking into the bathroom, grabbing her toiletries.

  “Where are you going?” He stood in the doorway.

  She gave him a frosty grey eyed stare. “I’m not staying here. Not with you.”

  He threw his hands in the air, for once not laying them on her. “Jo? I’m sorry. I was just looking out for you.”

  “Sure you were.” Dripping of sarcasm.

  She slung the gym bag over her back, seething red, grabbing her handbag with clenched fingers on her way out. He stopped her with a grip on her shoulder as she opened the door. Jo looked down at his hand, with enough hostility that he moved away.

  “You know what Owen?”

  “What?”

  “Just so you know, I wish I’d booked two nights - then she could’ve fucked me all morning.” A blonde brow arched as she walked past him through the front door, she shook her head. Her blood was boiling.

  Chapter 26

  She’d been at the office until seven p.m., busying herself with paperwork, occupying herself with something other than Jo. How quickly the blonde woman would re enter her thoughts. Jean was relieved to be finally getting home. She squinted, dipping her headlights to low beam. The drive was pleasant enough, no idiots on the road, just the soft hum of the radio.

  As soon as she turned into her driveway, a white shape by the house caught her attention. Jo’s white sedan.

  As she pulled up, a figure sitting on her front steps became visible. The policewoman was waiting for her. She was still in her uniform, must have come straight from work. She reversed into her usual spot by the house, turned off the ignition and got out. As she walked closer she noticed Jo’s car door was open, the radio was on and Annabelle was asleep on the back seat.

  Her forehead wrinkled in confusion as she walked over. Joanne stood up and met her at the front steps. Her eyes were cool, a silvery grey.

  “Did he threaten you?” The policewoman was blunt. Not even a hello. A question straight off the bat.

  A shake of a brunette head, her keys clinked in her hand. She stared at the ground. “No Jo, he threatened you, and everyone I love. Which makes it worse.”

  The Sergeant looked over at her sleeping daughter, turning away and releasing a short string of expletives.

  She turned to Jean, her eyes were furious. “What did he say to you?”

  The older woman bit her lip. Jo already knew. Owen must have said something to her.

  “He was watching us, that time at the cafe. Somewhere nearby. That call - he called me on my cell. Told me he’d take Annabelle away, that I had to leave you alone. He was going to do something. It’s your daughter Jo, I wasn’t going to argue.” Her eyes were downcast. She’d hardly spoken to the woman since, had felt guilty every day.

  “Son of a bitch.”

  “Jo, tell me what’s going on? Please? You should both come in.”

  Huffing angrily, Jo ran her fingers through her blonde hair, more pissed off than she was before. She gentled somewhat when it came to her daughter. She was still asleep. A couple of clips of the little girl’s car seat and she was limp in Jo’s arms. The cars locked, and favourite teddy recovered, they walked inside together.

  A little sleeping blonde head on Jo’s shoulder. The policewoman stood in the hallway. “Jean, can I put her down somewhere?”

  “Sure, hang on, I’ll get the fire going.”

  She led the policewoman into the living room, pointing toward a soft leather sofa. “I have a guest bedroom upstairs, but she might get frightened if she wakes up with out you around.”

  A blonde nod. Jo knelt and laid her down on the soft dark leather, putting the bear within easy reach. Jo brushed the hair out of her daughter’s eyes. Jean crouched in front of the fire, striking a long match and lighting the tinder. Once it caught she pulled the cast iron surround in front of it. A hand lay on her shoulder, Jo stood behind her.

  “Jean?”

  She stood and faced her. Jo ran her fingertips over her cheek. The other hand rested on the b
runette’s side.

  “You haven’t been ducking me on purpose, have you?” Her eyes were both hurt and hopeful.

  Jean shook her head. “Of course not. I just wasn’t going to put you in danger, either of you.”

  Jo pulled her into a well needed hug, squeezing around her ribs. They stayed like that for a moment.

  “Good.” The policewoman released her.

  Gentle brown eyes and a tentative smile. A soft kiss on the policewoman’s lips, fingertips along her back. They pulled away. Jean kissed her cheek.

  “Want to tell me what happened?”

  Jo nodded, following her into the kitchen.

  ***

  A kettle whistling, and some reheated pasta later, the policewoman was giving an account of earlier events. The failed attempts at gaining her favour, the questions that got him to all but spit it out. The screaming match, her leaving. She’d picked up Annabelle on the way, worried that Owen would turn up there and cause trouble. Her mother, stubborn as she was, stayed with a friend tonight at her daughter’s insistence.

  Jo pushed the remaining pasta around her plate, she’d picked up something for her daughter on the way, but hadn’t eaten anything herself. Too stressed, too angry.

  “..And then I came here. Which I now realise was a huge imposition on you.”

  Jean reached over and touched her wrist. “I told you, you were both welcome, I meant it.”

  A quiet sigh. “Thanks. We just had to get away for a while. At least until I figure out what to do.” Another little huff of annoyance as she studied her hands. “My day off tomorrow..at least work would have kept my mind off things.”

  Jean took her hand and laced their fingertips. Jo’s daughter looked up at them from the kitchen doorway, having followed her mother’s voice. Obviously tired, and now confused waking up in a strange place. Jo extended her free hand, beckoning her over.

  The older woman’s hand was released for a moment while Jo settled her daughter on her lap. Jo reached out again and resumed their contact. It was a big step, even if it didn’t seem like much. Blue eyes looked back at Jean, drowsy with the lateness of the hour.