Ember Flowers

by April Worth

  “Stay.”

  Grey eyes looked up from kissing her daughter’s head.

  “Stay. Tomorrow.”

  “Jean, I don’t wanna impose, tonight is enough of an inconvenience on you.”

  A gentle squeeze of her hand. “Jo. Don’t go back there, not with him. You know what you’ll find. Stay here tomorrow. Spend the day trying to relax.”

  “But?..”

  “It’s all right, really. You have a change of clothes, your car is here, and I bet this little one has never seen a real horse before. Right?”

  A little pout almost identical to her mother’s disappeared at the mention. “Orse?”

  Grey eyes narrowed at her, but it was offset by the smile. “Now you’ve done it.”

  “Stay?” A gentle brush of her knuckles.

  A sigh, she was never happy accepting a favour. “OK. But I’ll pay you back for it.”

  “No.”

  “Yes.”

  “No.”

  Jean didn’t seem like she was going to budge, and Jo was exhausted. “Fine. But I’m going to work something out.”

  A weary smile, a pat over her companion’s knuckles. She was getting tired herself. “You do that Jo.”

  ***

  Jo wandered down the upstairs hallway in an old shirt and cotton pants, they’d been hastily stuffed into her bag. Her long legs slightly too tall for them. She’d brushed her teeth, and was on her way to the guest room. She and Jean had talked for a little while, but both could see how tired the toddler was. Mother and daughter would bunk together in the spare bed tonight. Annabelle would be waking in a strange place, an unfamiliar situation, the closeness would reassure her.

  Jo walked by Jean’s bedroom door, it was partly open allowing through a crack of light. Her friend was slipping on a ribbed tank, on top of pale tartan boxers. Her firm lower back visible as she pulled down the fabric. Jo felt quite taken by it, feeling compelled not to look away, watching until her friend almost turned around. Her anger for Jean’s abandoning her had dissipated the moment she’d seen the woman’s face. It was clear that she was acting under duress. All the usual warmth and connection between them was still very much apparent.

  Feeling that she’d seen enough Jo gruffly cleared her throat and rapped on the wooden door. Jean saw her through the gap and came over.

  “Heading to bed?” She opened the door and leant a bare shoulder against the frame.

  “Yes. She’s almost asleep. You have her asking me about horses now.” Jo shook her head, but she was smiling at the same time.

  “Inquisitive?”

  “Very.”

  A pause. Jean smiled. Jo’s toe was tracing the seam of a floorboard. Distracted.

  Jean reached out to squeeze her hand. “Good night Jo. I’m working tomorrow but I’ll see you before I leave.”

  The blonde nodded. “OK. I’ll be up.”

  Jo turned on her heel to leave, padding softly away. A hand on her shoulder made her stop. She found herself hugged from behind, then released.

  “Night.”

  “Night.”

  Chapter 27

  The annoying chime of the alarm clock ringing in her ears. A weary rub of her eyes, and she set about getting ready. Showered, dressed and fresh, she entered the kitchen to see Jo pouring her daughter some cereal. She looked a little embarrassed.

  “Sorry Jean, she was hungry..I..” It must have left her feeling a little vulnerable, Jo almost looked a little skittish.

  The gardener walked past her, smiling and shaking her head. “Don’t be silly, use what you like.” She arrived at the refrigerator, taking down a glass and pouring herself juice. She leant on the counter watching the blondes.

  “She has your grin too, you know?” her eyes looking back and forth between them.

  A raised brow “Don’t I know it, don’t be fooled, that cuteness gets used to her full advantage.” A tweak of the button nose made her daughter scowl.

  Jean smiled, gathering her things off the kitchen table. “Here, I’ll leave you a key, in case you need to go out.” She plucked the machined brass off the ring and handed it to her.

  “Thanks.”

  “I’ll be home around six.”

  A nod. “OK, we’ll be here.”

  The thought made her genuinely pleased. “Good, because I want to hear about your day when I get back.”

  She blew the blonde a kiss, and the little girl a wave and made for the door.

  After the door closed with a soft click, and the car started outside, Jo looked at Annabelle expectantly, her daughter smiled a little toothy grin.

  ***

  With so much to explore, her toddler had first wanted to go outside. Pointing with her little fingers at the moving colours and interesting shapes. She’d been looking out of the kitchen window at the ranges and the trees. Having not seen such varied golden landscapes in dreary suburbia.

  Jo ruffled her hair gently and watched her run on ahead of her, putting the brass key in her shirt pocket. She opened the solid wooden door with a soft creak. It seemed everything Jean owned creaked. The thought made her chuckle.

  The yard leading up to the house had no fence, dissolving down from a gradual slope into a gravel drive extending out in a long grey line toward the road. Trees scattered across the embankment in nature’s haphazard order. As she looked out over the ranges the horses snuffled by the fence. Leaning their long faces over the white wooden planks.

  She got the toddler’s attention, showing her the colourful flowers by the porch, bending the narrow sprigs so she could smell them. The innocent wonder always made her feel good, seeing her little girl’s eyes dance when she experienced something new and amazing. The policewoman walked around the small manicured lawns, tended by Jean’s hand. They explored along the cobblestone path, spent time watching the birds from the porch under the eaves. Draping her long legs over the cubed rattan and canvas outdoor furniture.

  After patting the docile two mares by the fence for what felt like the thousandth time, Jo decided lunch might be in order. She walked through the front door with toddler in tow. The living room with fireplace to the left as she came in, she continued on down the hall toward the kitchen. A tug of the cupboard brought the pantry open. Jo tsked tsked. Very unimpressive.

  “C’mon sweetie, we’re going shopping.”

  ***

  Jean had given her a rough idea of where the local stores were, and Jo found them fairly easily after a ten minute drive. A shopping mall at the junction of two major roads, curt by bush land and a sparse dotting of homes in the distance.

  With Annabelle clapping as she sat up top, she pushed the trolley around the grocery store. It was certainly one of her more relaxing days off. She found a weight lifted off her shoulders whenever she came up here. Maybe it was the clean fresh air, perhaps it was the way Jean always put her at ease, made her forget her problems. She wasn’t sure. Soon enough she had enough food for lunch and a later dinner, along with a few other things to fill Jean’s cupboard.

  Jo had come to the assumption that the brunette wasn’t much of a cook, and from looking at her cupboards, perhaps that she took a lot of her meals before she came home from work. Well, Jo thought, she’ll appreciate an old fashioned home cooked dinner.

  The policewoman paid for her groceries, pushing the trolley through the checkout. A store nearby caught her eye as she turned to leave. Glossy photographs of women in their underwear took up the full length of each window. Satin, lace, silk, bedroom eyes and luscious lips. She looked at the images for a moment, they were all beautiful. However, curiously, she found none of them attractive in that way. Sure she could appreciate the smooth skin and curvaceous figures, but her thoughts didn’t linger. Jo shrugged her shoulders. Maybe it was just Jean. An outfit caught her eye on the rack. The blonde ran her fingertips over the satin and lace.

  ***

  Her daughter sat drawing at the kitchen table as Jo put away the groceries. Vegetables in the crisper, dry goods and sa
uces and such on the shelves. After a moment she realised she didn’t hear Annabelle’s burbling voice. She turned around, seeing the chair vacant behind her. She couldn’t have gotten far.

  The tall blonde followed the sounds of little footsteps, eventually ending up in the living room. Her daughter was picking up pens she had seen on the wooden coffee table.

  “There you are.”

  The toddler looked up and smiled with a cheeky grin. Jo ruffled her hair. She looked around the room. The beech and hardwood made everything look warm and cosy. A dark leather sofa and a recliner, the fireplace next to the television. Pictures by the wall. Annabelle had pattered back to the kitchen, pens in hand. Jo stopped to look at the framed photographs interspersed with ink drawings of birds and flowers.

  It seemed as though her companion had a lot of happy memories. A dark framed photograph of an older couple, likely her parents. Her father sharing her light olive complexion and expressive features. He had a shock of black lustrous hair, short with subtle glossy waves. Her mother’s face was framed in chocolate curls, smoky eyes, curved lips and a rounded chin. They both looked so serious, yet, the sparkle in the man’s eye reminded her of Jean’s cheeky looks.

  Then there was a photo of Scott and Ellie, with their son brand new and wrapped up in a blanket. Scott was kissing his wife’s temple affectionately, the love clearly between them. Another shot of Jean with them, the child in her arms as she cooed to it. She really did look happy. A last photo, this one looked well loved, a dog ear smoothed on the corner. Jean and a red headed woman, lying on a beach towel, the ocean spray behind them. The camera had captured the affection between them, as they lay back braced on their elbows. The redhead’s face was turned toward Jean, as though whispering in her ear. Alabaster skin and vivid green eyes, slim wrists and an emerald swimsuit. The younger Jean was smiling in response, like she had not a care in the world.

  That must be Natasha. The two of them looked quite a pair. Even with the sunglasses covering the older woman’s eyes, she could imagine the look of devotion underneath. Jean had been very much in love. She noted the matching wedding bands on their fingers.

  She looked down at the ground and mused with a sad smile, turning to join her daughter in the kitchen.

  Chapter 28

  She could see the lights on when she pulled up in the gravel drive. Something about it made her smile. A clank of the car and she was walking toward the old solid door. Something smelt good, wafting through the slightly ajar porch window.

  A key turned in the lock and she walked into the living room. The fire was already lit behind its surround, though the iron pokers had been moved.

  Annabelle’s little face peeked out behind the kitchen door, Jean smiled, giving her a little wave. Setting down her things on a table too high for little hands to reach.

  “Honey I’m home.” Warbled as she joined the blonde in the kitchen.

  Piles of pots and pans in the sink, the smell of cut herbs from the garden, something bubbling in the oven. A slight flush to the fair cheeks dotted with the occasional freckle.

  “Hi.”

  “Hi there, I see you’ve been busy?” She sniffed appreciatively.

  Stirring something on the stove. “I have. Your cupboards are woeful Jean. I felt the need to restock them..this is our thank you for yesterday.” A satisfied grin that she had at least partially evened the score. Jo looked down at the little curious face looking over their host. She stroked her daughter’s rounded cheek. Jean smiled at the little girl.

  Jean walked over and stood beside Jo, resting her fingertips on her arm. “You didn’t have to do that.”

  “Wanted to.” A softer tone, grey eyes almost bashful as they flicked over her.

  The gardener couldn’t help it, she reached up, stroking Jo’s cheek and neck. Jean held her breath, the words feathered out over her lips. She wanted to kiss her. “Didn’t have to..”

  The stirring stopped. “Jean..”

  The older woman sighed softly, last thing she wanted was to make her uncomfortable. With all the drama, she wasn’t sure where they stood. “Sorry..I’ll be right back.”

  Quick steps with heavy boots up the stairs. She’d brushed them off on the mat before coming in. The polished surfaces of the bathroom shining, a tap turned. Jean frowned into the mirror, wiping a dot of potting mix off her cheek with a sudsy hand. Scrubbing her nails with the little brush on the vanity.

  The sound of running water stopped, a voice from the stairwell. “Jean?”

  “In here Jo.” Hazelnut eyes looked at herself in the mirror, a shake of her head, annoyed with herself.

  The tall blonde entered and stood behind her. A tentative hand rested on her back.

  A sigh. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, last thing I want is for you to think you owe me anything.” She looked at the blonde reflected behind her.

  Jo nodded. “I don’t.“ The hand slid down her shoulder. They shared a shy smile in the mirror. Jean wiped her hands, turning, she found the doorway blocked.

  Her intake of breath was sharp, the blonde’s hand moved to stroke along her jaw, ending up in her hair. “Oh Jo..”

  She pulled the older woman closer, their lips meeting softly. A hum of contentment, tanned arms looped around the taller waist. Jean pulled back, before melting into a more passionate exchange.

  Foreheads touched together, Jo’s breath caught in her throat. “Should..probably head back downstairs. Don’t want anything to burn.”

  ***

  Dinner was wonderful, salmon and accompaniments. Then she heard all about their day. Joyful broken sentences about horses and grass and watching the birds. It made the older woman smile, and the child’s mother shake her head in amusement. The blonde rested her head on her knuckles, grazing the outdoor rattan with her nails. Watching the sunset from their nook under the eaves, breathing in the tranquillity while she could. A loose peasant shirt and jeans. Jo’s equivalent to around-the-house clothes.

  Annabelle had worn herself out, and her droopy eyes indicated she needed sleep. Must have been all the running around. Little hands pawed at the outdoor furniture. The night was painting the sky ultramarine and coal.

  “Time for bed?” Inferring to the child. Jean hadn’t meant anything by it, but she saw a little blush colour the blonde’s cheek, as though she were distracted from more private thoughts.

  “I usually read to her.” The policewoman sighed. “At least she knows she has my attention before she goes to sleep. Lately, I’ve been worried all this will affect her.”

  A hand rubbed her shoulder. “Good for her to have a constant in her life. You’re good at this Jo.” Met with a shrug of the blonde’s shoulders, the mother seemed concerned from the look in her grey eyes.

  Jo’s droll voice in the evening air. “I’ll find out if she needs therapy later.”

  ***

  A small collection of picture books had been brought with them. Featuring obnoxiously cute baby animals and the feature to make them talk. Jean could hear quacks, meows and barking from down the hall as she brushed her teeth. She stepped into the shower. Turning on the taps. A dull buzz, the lights flickered, then went out. She stood there in darkness a moment before finding her clothes by touch on the rail.

  “Dammit.” She cursed softly under her breath. This happened sometimes. Some issue with the fuses, an old house with the occasional quirk. Usually doing a reset downstairs got it working again.

  She heard Jo’s voice in the dark. “Jean?”

  “It’s OK, fuses do this occasionally. I’ll fix it down stairs.” She felt around in the bedroom nightstand for a torch. A click and a beam of light followed, she nodded, pleased that this one had working batteries.

  She walked past the guest room, flicking the beam down onto the ground so they could see her. “It’s OK, does this sometimes. Be right back.”

  Jean grumbled to herself as she walked down stairs. Figures this would happen tonight, when she wanted her guests to have a n
ice restful sleep. She reached the fuse box outside the front door and lifted the lid, the torch in her mouth. She pushed the plastic levers up and down. Split into sections. With a flick part of the house came back on, the upstairs stayed in darkness. D.I.Y electrics always proved interesting.

  Nothing but a busted fuse, and she didn’t have any spares.

  She gave the levers one last hopeful flick, to no avail. When she closed the front door and came back in Jo was waiting for her in the hall. She rolled her eyes and huffed in apology. “Sorry Jo, damn house. Figures it would do this tonight. There are candles in the kitchen if you need light upstairs.”

  Jo smiled at her, a slow easy grin that reached her eyes. “Relax Jean? Isn’t that what you’re always telling me?”

  Jean couldn’t help but smile back.

  ***

  Showering in the dark by torchlight was far less romantic than it sounded. The bathroom seemed to echo with every splash, and bottles and smaller objects cast peculiar shadows across her body. A lather of soap, she scrubbed her short hair with shampoo, getting out the grit and sweat of working during the day. At least she’d come home to Jo and Annabelle. How welcoming it felt to have the house warmed by the beautiful woman and her daughter. Jo’s smile at the table as they held hands, and the little blue eyes that looked up at her curiously from the rug.

  A rub down with the fluffy white towel, her hair still damp, she pulled on her typical sleeping attire. A clean white t-shirt and cotton boxers. A thin dab of moisturiser while looking at her self in the mirror and she was ready for bed. Hopefully Jo hadn’t already settled for the evening, she looked forward to the hug and the good night kiss.