by Kilby, Joan
A nurse with a clipboard appeared at Katie’s side. “Katie Henning? I’m here to take you to Radiology.”
John walked back.
“Thanks,” Katie said to him. “You can go. I’m sure you want to get Tuti and go home.”
“No, I’ll stay.”
“Please don’t. I’ll phone my father to come pick me up after I’ve had the X-ray.”
“Ready?” The nurse spun the chair toward a broad corridor and a pair of swing double doors.
No doubt Katie expected him to leave. She didn’t believe she could count on him for anything. Which only went to show how little she knew him. He settled in a chair and sipped his coffee. When it came to Katie he’d had a lot of practice waiting.
* * *
TWO HOURS LATER Katie returned through the double doors to the waiting room, an orderly pushing her wheelchair. Her foot was encased in a boot cast. The crutches she’d rented from the hospital rested across her legs.
She was about to ask the orderly to take her outside so she could phone her father. And then she saw John. He was slumped in the hard plastic chair, eyes closed, hands clasped across his chest. His blond hair was rumpled and his jaw bristled with golden stubble. He appeared to be dozing.
She’d been so sure he would leave after the bitchy way she’d treated him. But he hadn’t. Her throat tightened. For a moment she thought she would cry. She knew she was just emotional because she was tired and aching and cranky. But deep inside something in her let go, as if a band around her chest had eased slightly. He hadn’t deserved the way she’d treated him earlier.
It hit her then. Deep down she’d been hoping he would prove he cared by waiting for her. Prove what he hadn’t proved seven years ago.
She blinked, trying to push away her emotion.
Was she an idiot to still hope that he loved her with the unconditional love she longed for, the kind her parents had had? Him staying for a couple of hours in Emergency didn’t prove anything. It was too damn little, too damn late.
“Over there, please,” she told the orderly, directing him toward John. He parked her at the end of the row and left.
In sleep, John’s closed eyelids looked vulnerable, his firm mouth younger and softer, almost as if they’d gone back in time.... She couldn’t resist lightly stroking his forearm, warm skin covered in blond hair. “Hey,” she said softly, then removed her hand before he woke up.
John’s eyes blinked open, startlingly blue, instantly alert. He glanced down at her foot. “Not broken then?”
“Just a bad sprain.” She grimaced. “I tore a ligament.”
“Come on. I’ll take you home.” He started to get up.
She touched his arm again and this time she left her hand there. “Thanks for waiting. And for everything.”
He covered her hand with his own. “It’s no big deal.”
“Still. I appreciate it.” Her hand felt warm and secure sandwiched between his arm and his palm. She didn’t even care that she might be sending the wrong message. “I’m sorry I was so awful.”
“I’m used to it.”
Through the tossed-off humor Katie heard the grain of truth. “Seriously, I really appreciate you coming. I hope I didn’t interrupt anything important.”
“Nothing much.” His thumb stroked her wrist, the rough pad grazing her pulse.
A tingle traveled up her arm and spread in a warm glow. The pain relievers must be kicking in, making her giddy. “Tuti must be wondering where you are.”
“I checked in with my mother. Tuti’s fine.” But he got the hint. He stood and pushed her wheelchair toward the exit. “Still think your bike ride was worth it?”
The rush of bouncing down the hill came back to her, overcoming her fatigue. “I haven’t experienced anything so exciting since we rappelled down that rock face in the Blue Mountains. It was wonderful. I felt like a kid again.”
“Really?” There was amusement, and a slightly wistful note, in his voice, as if he was too world-weary to know what excitement was anymore. But he wished he did.
“Absolutely. I would do it again in a heartbeat. In fact, I will do it again. As soon as my ankle heals.”
“Next time, I’m sure you’ll be more careful.”
“Where’s the fun in that? Danger is much more thrilling.”
He chuckled. “That’s my girl.”
For a moment she wished that were true, that she was his again, that they would plot their next adventure together, not as a way to keep her safe but just because that’s what they did.
Then they were outside and the cool evening air hit her face, bringing clarity. Not going to happen. She didn’t even want it to happen. Why indulge in futile fantasies?
John’s SUV was waiting in the pickup zone. “If I know you, you’ll somehow make this into Monkey’s fault.”
“I’ve been working on that already. Monkey taunted Lizzy about being a wuss until she had to prove she could have adventures without him.”
“But she learned her lesson this time, didn’t she?”
“She proved she has the guts to go after what she wants. To venture out completely on her own.”
“That was never in doubt.” John set the chair brake and opened the passenger door.
She could survive on her own, could even have adventures. But it would be a lot nicer having them with someone. With John’s help she climbed into the passenger seat. He squeezed her knee, setting butterflies loose in her stomach. Suddenly she missed what they used to have with a fierceness that took her breath away.
CHAPTER EIGHT
JOHN PULLED UP in front of Katie’s house. It had been a long day and he was tired and still had to pick up Tuti. But he couldn’t leave until he was sure Katie was okay.
“Don’t move until I come around to help you,” he said. “I don’t want to have to take you back to the hospital because you’ve fallen and broken your other leg.”
Being Katie, she had the door open and her crutches poised to hit the ground by the time he got to the passenger side. He took the crutches from her and put an arm around her waist. Her scent, ripe with dirt and sweat, was earthy and warm.
“I’m going to have to learn to do this by myself,” she grumbled as he swung her down from the vehicle.
“You don’t have to learn tonight when you’re tired and sore. Walking on crutches is harder than it looks.”
“I guess you would know.” Standing on her good foot, she placed a hand on his shoulder for balance while she positioned a crutch beneath her arm.
She was referring to the time when he was fifteen and she thirteen and he’d fallen out of her parents’ apple tree and broken his leg. It had been embarrassing for a guy who prided himself on his athleticism and, in particular, his tree-climbing ability. “Did that make it into one of your stories?”
“Not yet.” She let go of him and set off up the path to her front door, one awkward step at a time. “I couldn’t figure out a good reason for a monkey to fall out of a tree. I mean, really. You of all people.”
“Maybe Monkey was distracted because he saw something luscious but out of reach.”
“What do you mean?”
“Maybe he saw Lizzy sunbathing in a bikini.”
“Huh?” She jerked, lost her balance and started to topple.
John caught her, his arms closing around her. She went very still. “A purple bikini with white polka dots,” he said, his mouth next to her ear. “It’s etched in my memo
ry. That was the first time I saw you as a girl and not as Riley’s pesky kid sister. It was the beginning of my love affair with your breasts,” he added huskily. “They were barely buds but oh so sweet and firm and high.”
“Stop.” Her voice was breathy and her legs wobbled, but she still had enough strength in her arms to push him away. She took a breath and tackled the steps, planting her crutches and dragging herself up behind. “I was going to offer you coffee but I’ve changed my mind. You’re a pervert.”
He grinned as he climbed the stairs after her. Getting a rise out of Katie never failed to amuse him. “Not a pervert, just a red-blooded teenage boy. What were you doing strutting about in a bikini where you could be sure I would see you?”
The pink in her cheeks deepened. “I was not strutting. I was—oh, you’re doing it again. Good night.” She fumbled with her key in the lock.
He took the key out of her hand. “I’m coming in with you.” He opened the door. “While you shower I’ll make you something to eat. Soon as you’re settled, I’ll leave. Promise.”
“But—”
“No arguments. Or I’ll come in there and scrub your back.”
She threw him an exasperated look and hobbled down the hall, no doubt too tired to fight him over it. Was he a hopeless case or what? Still mooning over Katie Henning like a schoolboy when she’d made it more than clear she wasn’t interested.
He went into the kitchen and flicked on the light. A cream-and-gray cat leaped off a chair and arched its back, green eyes wary.
“What’s your name?” He bent to scratch behind its ears and the creature purred. “I’ll bet you’re hungry, too.”
He searched the laundry room and found a bag of premium dry cat food. After taking care of the cat, he checked the fridge for human food. Organic vegetables and fruit, a big jar of fish oil, free-range eggs, biodynamic organic yogurt… When had she turned into a health nut?
Oh. Duh. Well, good to see she was taking care of herself. But the bottle of micronutrients and extracts of obscure algae made him uneasy. He hoped she wasn’t still putting her faith in quack medicines and dodgy pseudoscience to keep healthy. He hoped she was doing regular breast exams and whatever else her doctor recommended as routine screening. He started to put the bottle back and his hand stopped in midair.
He didn’t trust her to take care of herself.
Sobered by the realization, he took ingredients out of the fridge. He peeled and chopped and whisked and sautéed. She needed someone to look after her. Was anyone making sure she did the right things? He would ask Riley. Or maybe Paula would have a better idea. The two women were close.
Fifteen minutes later he flipped out an omelet containing enough vegetables to choke a rabbit. He added a garnish of strawberries and blueberries for extra goodness.
“Smells good.” She stood in the doorway, resting on her crutches, wearing pajamas printed with cats. Her wavy hair hung dark and wet around her shoulders.
“Yeah.” Only he was referring to the fresh scent of her shampoo.
Her cat rubbed up against the boot on her leg. “Hey, Lulu,” she crooned as the feline sniffed the casing. “It’s all right. I’m going to be all right.”
“Madame.” John set a plate of food before her, nodded at her thanks, then brought over two mugs of herbal tea.
“I thought you were going home as soon as you fed me.”
“Soon.” He sat opposite and sipped the tea. But first he was going to tell her the truth about why he left, even if it made her hate him worse than ever.
* * *
KATIE FORKED UP a bite of tender omelet. Part of her wanted him to leave so he wouldn’t stir up muddled feelings. Part of her enjoyed his company. And that was dangerous. “This is delicious. But you’ve made a man-size meal. Want some?”
“Maybe just a bite.” He opened his mouth expectantly.
She didn’t know whether to laugh or be annoyed at his cheek. Well, she did owe him. Cutting off a hunk, she held it out. He leaned over. As his mouth closed around the bite of food his gaze met hers.
Would those blue eyes never lose the power to dazzle?
She dropped her gaze. “How’s Tuti?” she asked, because it was safer than asking why he was still there.
“She’s such a little monkey—and I don’t just mean climbing trees. She’s full of mischief.”
Katie smiled. “Wonder where she got that from?”
Frowning, he wrapped his hands around his mug. “But she worries me, too. I heard her crying the other night, after I’d put her to bed.”
Katie put down her fork, her appetite diminished by the thought of little Tuti in pain. “What’s wrong? Do you know?”
He shook his head and shrugged.
“She’s probably sad about her mother’s death.” Katie knew how that felt. She’d been ten when her mother died and the bottom had been ripped out of her world. With her father devastated and Riley pretending he didn’t care, she was left to struggle with her grief on her own. Her father had poured all his devotion into her mother. And that was right and as it should be.
“Could it be you’ve glossed over the grieving process because of what you know about Balinese traditions? Maybe you thought she would recover more quickly?” John stiffened, no doubt taking her comment as criticism. It was true, she didn’t think he’d taken Tuti’s loss seriously enough although she knew it wasn’t out of any lack of caring. “Her mischievousness might be her acting out because she doesn’t know how to deal with her feelings.”
“I told you, they view death differently in Bali.”
“Maybe so,” Katie said. “But she’s still a small girl who’s lost her mother and no doubt misses her terribly. She might understand the religious and cultural meaning of death. But the reality is that her mother isn’t there to give her a cuddle when she falls down, to kiss her good-night.”
“I’m there. I comfort her when she hurts herself.”
“That’s good. I can tell Tuti adores you. But it’s not the same as knowing your mother will never hold you again.” Even now the thought brought pain. She missed her mother every day of her life. Her heart ached for poor little Tuti.
John stared at the table. When he glanced up, his eyes were clouded. “I’m doing my best. I can’t do anything more. Nena’s gone. Nothing can change that fact.”
Katie’s heart reached out to him. He was trying so hard, probably wondering why he still couldn’t get it right. But was that even possible when it came to raising kids? With the best intentions in the world parents still made mistakes.
“Do you talk to her about her mother—Nena?” Speaking the woman’s name aloud, her voice sounded odd to her own ears. She’d thought she didn’t feel any jealousy. Now she was aware of a dull ache behind her breastbone when she thought of John making love to another woman barely a month after he’d left Katie’s sickbed.
A healthy woman. A woman who had given him a child.
It was a long time ago. Get over it.
But it was hard to get over something she hadn’t had time to process. She’d tried to set aside the hurt for the girl’s sake but it was only buried, not banished.
“I probably don’t talk to her about Nena enough,” he admitted. “There’s not a lot of time by the end of the day what with school and work, getting dinner, doing her reading, getting ready for bed… I had no idea how much time it takes just doing the basics of looking after a small child.” He paused. “Katie, there’s something about those da
ys that I want to tell you—”
“First, what was Nena like?” She didn’t really want to hear, but if she cared about Tuti she needed to be able to talk about the girl’s mother without hostility. During her illness, she’d learned that when the pain was intense, she had to lean into it. Only by pushing through could she get to the other side, to a place of calm.
John shook his head. “You don’t want to know.”
Meaning, he didn’t want to tell her. Was that guilt talking? Their feelings didn’t matter, not compared to Tuti. “Yes, I do. The more people Tuti can talk to about her mother, the better.”
“Well…” He scratched his head. “She was a lot like you.”
“Like me?” Katie went still. “How do you mean?”
“Self-contained. Not reserved exactly but she was self-sufficient. She enjoyed my company but made it clear she didn’t need me. Not in the long term.”
And that’s what she was like? No way. She’d adored John, wanted to be with him every moment of the day. “I needed you.”
“You did and you didn’t. I know you loved me but there was a small part of you deep inside that you held back. That you kept…separate. It’s okay. I accepted it. I don’t think you meant to hurt me. It’s just the way you are.”
Withholding. He’d thought she’d been withholding. Katie made herself take another bite of the cooling omelet because she didn’t know what to say to John’s accusation. Withholding. That’s not how she saw herself at all. She gave every scrap of love and warmth she had to her pupils, to her family, and she’d given it to John when they’d been going out.
“I didn’t know that when we were together,” he added. “I only realized it much later, after I was away from you and had a chance to reflect.”