by April Worth
Her calloused hand rubbed Annabelle’s back. “I know sweetie, that’s why we’re here, to make the ow go away.”
She reached over, accepting a fire engine red lollipop from the receptionist. Annabelle’s power of persuasion had struck again. Jean pulled off the wrapper, holding the treat out for the girl’s small hand. Annabelle looked at it, before mouthing it contentedly distracted.
They sat in reception, it wasn’t long before they were shown through. The wait was starting to wear on the toddler. She had started to scream again, Jean could only rock her as they waited. Whispering comforts, she sent Joanne a quick text, letting her know what was going on.
She sat down beside the Doctor’s desk with a teary Annabelle in her arms.
“Good to see you again Jean. Been a while. You didn’t go and have a kid between the last time we spoke did you?” His brown eyes were smiling with curiosity. Her knew her history, she’d been coming to the same small practise for years. Treatment for cuts here and there, work related minor injuries. Insurance usually necessitated the appointment. Otherwise she was usually in good health, with no complaints.
The older woman shook her head. “No Doctor..this is my girlfriend’s daughter. I’m baby sitting.”
Annabelle voiced her discomfort with a frown, her palm pressed against her ear and a little whimper.
The scene had the same heart melting effect as sleeping puppy. “Aww. Someone’s ear hurts huh? Let’s take a look.”
He pulled out his inner ear scope from his desk drawer. Unclipping it from its sterile holster. Annabelle grabbed fistfuls of Jean’s shirt, unsure.
Her tanned hand rubbed over the girl’s back. She gently got her attention. “Annie sweetie?”
The blonde head turned back to look at her. Blue eyes fearful. “Wont hurt sweetie, just let the Doc have a look, and we can figure out why it’s sore, OK?” She knew most of it the girl wouldn’t understand, but she tried to make her voice as soothing as possible.
The Doctor carefully moved her silvery hair to check in her ear, nodding to himself. He checked the other one. “Hmm. Yeah. I can see why it hurts. Just got a little infection, that’s all.”
He clipped the equipment back together and slid it back into his desk drawer. Annabelle jostled on her lap, moving around to look at the box of wooden toys in the corner. Jean rested a steadying hand on her back and belly. He took her temperature, and a stethoscope over her heart. The cold steel made the girl flinch.
Grasping a pen from a colourful cup full of tongue depressors, he began writing a prescription.
***
Tired legs trudged through the door at a little after two am. Jo let herself in, expecting to crawl into bed with the older woman already asleep. When she’d tried to give the key back Jean had just shaken her head and motioned for her to keep it; just in case. She wasn’t sure how to take that, the older woman was making a clear point of saying she was trusted.
She closed the door quietly behind her, walking up the hall in uniform, she was surprised to see the living room light on, the television muted low, and her daughter wrapped up in earthy coloured blankets on the recliner. Jean was crouched beside her, checking Annabelle’s forehead as she slept.
Jo shot her a worried look.
Jean spoke softly as Jo walked quickly over, laying her things on the floor nearby.
“She’s fine Jo. Little earache. I took her to the doctor earlier, gave her children’s aspirin, and some drops for her ear. She’s just been sleeping, but she didn’t want to be alone.”
Jo’s features calmed visibly, she reached out and touched the girl’s forehead, little warm but not feverish. Crouching low beside her, a knee to the floor.
“When?”
Jean ran her hand over Jo’s arm. “Hour or so after you left. I sent you a text, but I thought it would be better if I just took her to my G.P. She’s fine, just a little sore.”
Jo frowned worriedly, holding her daughter’s small hand. “How long has she been sleeping?” Keeping her voice hushed.
Jean glanced at the little girl. “She’s been waking up on and off, she fell asleep a little after ten. I was going to carry her upstairs, but she didn’t like the idea. So she’s been out here with me.” She looked at the girl’s sleeping face thoughtfully.
Jo nodded, letting out a held breath. “Thanks. Had me worried for a moment.”
“No need, she’s fine Jo. I wouldn’t let anything happen.”
Grey eyes glanced at her, she leant forward and gave Jean a soft kiss.
A crinkle of movement as the blanket shifted. “Mummy?” Little arms reached for her.
Jo slid her arm around Annabelle’s side, it was immediately gripped by small fingers. “Here sweetie. You feeling OK?” She reached out again with her other hand, her palm against the toddler’s forehead. Her skin cool all over from her car’s air conditioning.
The blonde girl nodded. Looking at her through sleepy eyes.
Jean rubbed her other small hand. “Does it hurt anywhere honey?”
Annabelle shook her head. “Sleepy.”
Jo smiled, a weary grin. “I know, me too.” She stifled a yawn. Her arms sliding around the girl, Jo lifted her gently. By the time she had tucked her in down the hall, the blue eyes had closed in peaceful slumber.
Jean lay on her side in bed, watching Jo slide off her uniform. The heavy belt and thick pants came off after her boots. Then she unbuttoned her shirt, neat snicks as the cloth opened. She folded the clothes in a pile on the dresser.
The brunette yawned, but was quite content with the view.
“You did well. A screaming toddler is every parent’s nightmare.” Jo placed the studs of her earrings on top of the nearby shelf, turning to look at her in front of the lamp.
Jean waved her hand dismissively. “She was fine Jo. Just in pain and she didn’t know why. Once she had the drops and the aspirin she quieted right down. I was worried myself, poor thing.”
Jo nodded, going and finding some sleep wear in the bag she brought with her. A t-shirt with a distressed print, little satin shorts with flowers. She returned to the bedroom, pulling the cover’s back and sliding into the vacant space. She nestled against Jean’s warm side.
The brunette’s arm slid around her. “How did things go with your mysterious thing?”
Jo smiled triumphantly, a raised brow and grin despite how tired she was. “Drug bust, they saw an opening and called everyone in. Twelve key of heroin that won’t reach the streets. They needed every uniform they could get.”
Jean kissed her forehead. “My girlfriend does important things.”
She was a little taken aback. “Your girlfriend huh?” Jo considered the title for a moment. She rolled onto her back, staring up at the ceiling.
“Mmhm. I referred to you as my girlfriend today in fact.” She gauged Jo’s reaction.
Her head turned. Grey eyes watched her closely. “When?”
“Doctor’s office. They asked if Annabelle was mine.”
“Oh.” Jo rolled back into Jean’s chest, propping her temple on her knuckles. “I suppose..girlfriend is the best way to describe it, isn’t it?”
Jean played idly with her hair, it lay over the pillow and her shoulder as Jo got comfortable. She was feeling sedate and happy. She could get used to Jo coming home to her. “A way of saying I care about you, and I think about you, and I like having you around. That you’re more than a friend, more than a lover.” Her fingertips stroked the blonde’s cheek. Jean gazed at her thoughtfully.
Jo looked back, feeling the butterflies fluttering. She had to look away, the look from the gentle almond eyes a little intense. “It’s late, maybe we should get some sleep?”
Jean smiled at her lazily, she seemed to want to say something, but was holding her tongue. She sighed softly. “OK. Sweet dreams then.” She reached behind her, turning off the bedside lamp.
“Night.”
They were silent for a while in the dark, each lying there getting comfortab
le.
Jean’s soft voice broke the quiet, she knew her lover was still awake. “I have a confession to make..”
Jo wasn’t sure what to make of that, her inner pessimist raised its head. “Tell me.”
Jean sighed. “I think I might have trouble keeping to our no strings, no obligations arrangement.”
The blonde rolled toward her. Her hand leaving Jean’s to prop herself up. She’d been thinking about that herself. Kerry finding out had shocked her into old patterns, to question things again. Somehow she always came back to the same realisation, despite the risks, she wanted this.
“Why?”
“Well..” She paused, taking a breath. “I think I might be falling for you, and suddenly no strings doesn’t seem like an option.”
The policewoman nodded, running her fingertips over the blanket. “I see.”
A quick concerned breath. “I..I understand if you don’t feel the same way Jo. But I just felt like you had to know.”
Truthfully she wasn’t surprised. Jean had been looking at her differently lately. Her behaviours hadn’t changed, she still opened doors for her, still flirted, kissed, made her smile. But something had deepened between them, the way Jean reached for her sometimes, touched her as though she’d disappear into a dream. She even seemed to be bonding with her daughter, Annabelle asked about her when they were at home. If today was any indication, the pair seemed to get along well.
There was a pregnant silence, Jean just lay looking at her in the dark, the outline of her face visible in the low light.
“I’m not going anywhere Jean.” The blonde grasped her hand, giving it a squeeze before rolling over. A sigh of relief behind her.
Chapter 34
Annabelle sat by Owen’s flip flop clad feet, his apartment was decorated with the essentials, sofas, table, flat screen television. He’d had to hide the remote more than once, his young daughter loved to play with the buttons. She scribbled on the coffee table, crayons everywhere, while he watched the news.
He’d moved here after things broke down with Jo. She needed her space, was quite insistent about it. Staying would only make things worse, and things were bad enough as it is.
He missed her. Her blonde hair spread over the pillow beside him as she slept, her home cooked dinners, her warm laugh. He had loved showing her off, the statuesque blonde always drew envious looks, and he beamed knowing she was his.
Owen hoped that she’d come to her senses, though it seemed less and less likely. The paperwork shoved in his face still sat unsigned on the kitchen table. Couldn’t bring himself to do it. To sever the tie with the mother of his child. Marriage null and void. Her recent protests at letting him see his little girl added more tension. Relenting only when her terms were met.
With a sigh the handsome man sat up, patting his daughter’s back. The little blonde scribbled away at something with her small hands, colours smeared all over the paper.
“Oh. A horsie huh?” Their shapes were vaguely recognisable as such.
She turned around, looking up at him with a toothy grin. The sketch was of two horses grazing. Vivid green spiky grass and their legs disproportionately long. Annabelle pointed. “Keezey, Orgia.”
“They have names?”
She nodded enthusiastically. “Jean.”
His mood darkened, but he nodded. His large hand stroked his daughter’s soft hair.
“Jean huh? You see her lots?”
The child nodded again, raising her hands to be picked up. He settled them around her waist, hoisting her up and depositing her on his lap. She turned to watch the television, the colours and movement catching her eye.
“What do you do at Jean’s house?”
A blue matching his own looked back at him, she smiled, not understanding. She grabbed her little ear. “Ow.”
“That’s right. Mummy said you had sore ears. Do you have sore ears now?” He smiled, tickling her. She giggled in his arms. His face became sad for a moment. “Your mother is ticklish too. Bet Jean doesn’t know that, does she?” Jo had mentioned that Jean had taken her to the doctor. The thought of that woman alone with his daughter made him crazy.
Annabelle hopped off his lap, wandering into the kitchen, he saw her pull open the pantry door. He got up to watch her.
“What are you doing kiddo?” He followed her. She was rummaging through the lower shelves. “Lolly?”
She’d picked up that word early. Much like ice cream. He gave them to her occasionally, partly because the child liked them, partly because he knew it would annoy Joanne.
“No Annabelle, no lollies.”
She frowned, an expression that was identical to her mother’s. It made him chuckle. She understood some things and not others. Usually if he kept it short she would know what he meant.
His phone rang, buzzing across the kitchen counter. He walked over to it with casual strides. “Roy, yeah I’m here.” He looked over at Annabelle, who had returned to the sofa.
“Yeah come over, my daughter’s here though..”
“Yeah..so keep that stuff at home. My kid will tell on me. Besides, I think the neighbours can smell it. Old bastard gave me a funny look..Yeah, OK, see you.”
Twenty minutes later Owen opened the door to his old friend, Joanne’s colleague, Roy. He took off his cap, and looked around the living room as he shuffled in. His hands in his pockets as he padded over the dark blue carpet. The blue eyes looked him over. “Man you look baked?”
Roy shrugged. “Don’t tell anyone.”
The two chuckled, sitting down in the kitchen while Owen grabbed a beer from the fridge. Annabelle looked over at her father’s guest. Roy spun the papers around so he could read them. “Shit Owen, Jo wants a divorce?”
He scowled. “Yeah, she’s not thinking straight. We’re working on it. ”
Owen’s friend rubbed his shaven cheek. “That’s too bad. You think I have a shot?”
Owen scowled at him. “Fuck off.”
Roy chuckled. “C’mon, I was joking, don’t be such a bitch.”
The blue eyes narrowed, he took a long draw from the brown bottle. “Don’t joke about it. She’s already shacked up with someone else.”
He crossed his arms, leaning back as the chair squeaked, studying the wooden veneer. “Moves fast. What’s his name? We could pay him a visit?”
Owen shook his head, tipping back his beer. “No.”
“Why? I’ll help you.”
“Just drop it.” A caged menace in his tone as his words ground out.
Roy shrugged his shoulders. “Fine, whatever.”
It took a few more drinks, and Annabelle asleep in the other room for him to talk about it.
They sat together on the sofa, Owen flicked the ash of his cigarette into the glass ashtray. A long drag as he dropped the pack onto the table. A social smoker. Jo hated that, too.
“So what about the kid? Does she want custody?”
“Annabelle? Over my dead body. No way is my little girl gonna grow up around that dyke.” He sipped, ripping the label off the empty bottle.
“What?” Roy didn’t understand. Owen regretted his choice of words.
“Never mind.”
“What do you mean? Dyke? Jo’s too pretty.”
Owen grit his teeth, reaching over to pick up a manila folder with loose sheets inside, passing it to his friend. Photos of Jo. Large glossy photos of Jo’s house. The battered ute in the driveway. Another shot, Jo leaning in to kiss the brunette outside Jean’s office.
“Whoa.” Roy’s eyes went round, scanning image with a lingering glance, his brow raising.
“I know. Fucked, right?”
“What are you going to do about this? She’s gone after your wife. I like Jo, but I dunno, it’s just..wrong.”
Owen’s sofa squeaked as he leant back. He sighed, feeling resigned. Usual brute force hadn’t done him any favours. “What would you do?”
“Jo’s a hard woman, but she’s sentimental too. Make a big deal out of it, te
ll her you’ll change. Maybe she’ll believe you.” Roy flipped the channel on the remote.
“I tried that. Didn’t work.”
“Pull the lesbian over, tell her how it’s going to be.”
“Tried that too. Jo found out. It made things worse.”
Roy shrugged his shoulders again. “Got any dirt on that other woman?”
Owen crossed his arms over his chest. “She’s 42, unmarried, pays her taxes. She’s squeaky clean, couple of speeding tickets. That’s it.”
“You want me to put pressure on Jo? I see her everyday. I could say something. Tell her I know? Might give her a scare?”
“She’s not stupid, it’ll come back to me. It would just piss her off.”
Roy rested his foot on the coffee table. “Why not make something up? Tell Jo you were worried? That you found something on her? Tell her she’s making a mistake?”
Owen ran her fingertips over his short buzzed hair, sighing. “She’s suspicious of me Roy. Sometimes, I think she even hates me. She won’t believe a word I say.”
“I’m sorry man. That’s tough.”
“Tell me about it.”
Movement drew his eye. A little blonde form by the doorway, looking at them from behind the doorframe. Owen smiled at her as he stood walking over, reaching out and ruffling her hair. “Hey cutie, you should be sleeping..”
“Story?”
“It’s late, you should be fast asleep.” He ushered her back to the spare bedroom. Returning after few minutes, the little girl told him how her mother usually read to her, how Jean would make her breakfast in the morning when they were there. How sometimes she would pat the horses when her mother let her. She didn’t know every word was like a dagger, only confirming what he already knew. His wife and daughter were moving further away, soon he would hardly know them. Memories of his little girl would only be limited to weekend visits and photographs. Before he could blink she would be a teenager. He would be the awkward one standing in the back row watching her life go by.
His face was a quiet mask when he sat back down, his friend noticed the gritting of his jaw.