by Sue MacKay
Back at her apartment she cleared the outside table. Nixon wasn’t into sharing about himself, which meant no real closeness. Good friends shared some private details about themselves. Lovers a lot more. There were no secrets between two people in love. There was her answer. This had nothing to do with love because she couldn’t tell him how weak and feeble the past had made her. She certainly wasn’t going to explain how his care and concern piqued her interest, made her think there was a life out there involving a man—love, sex, commitment.
The baby cried on the other side of her lounge wall.
Her boobs squeezed tight, diverting her from Nixon and the improbable to Grace and reality.
The sound of Abbie murmuring sweet nothings to her daughter drifted through from her open windows to Emma’s straining ears. Nothing like a baby’s cry to hit her heart, pull on the strings.
Emma crossed her arms carefully over her breasts. Down, girls, down. Not your job to feed Grace. Sharp tugs of pain said it all.
She could go visit, maybe hold Grace. She had to if she wanted to move forward, past this hurdle of longing. Deal with this and put Nixon on hold. She was using him, if only in her head, to avoid the emptiness from handing the baby over.
She might as well deal with the real problem here. It was baby Grace who made her ache with pain and longing and love, not Nixon. With a huff she headed across the lawn and up the steps to Abbie’s deck. Never before had she been reluctant to drop in on her friend, while at the same time she couldn’t wait, needing to reassure herself they were still on the same page, that nothing had changed between them.
‘Hey, how’re you doing?’ she asked softly as she stepped inside the apartment identical to hers in size and layout and the exact opposite in décor. While Emma went for soft and feminine Abbie had chosen a strong modern style.
Abbie looked up with wonder in her eyes. ‘Amazing. I still can’t quite believe I’m breastfeeding my daughter.’
Emma’s boobs were still doing that tightening, painful thing, but she just breathed deeply and waited until they got tired of the game. ‘It’s great for bonding. I still remember those feelings when I first fed Rosie, and many times afterwards. It’s so special.’
‘You want to hold Grace when I’m done?’ Abbie was watching her too closely. As if she could see the need inside. No surprise there.
Suddenly the turmoil that had kept her busy doing unnecessary things that morning dropped away. ‘I’d love to. And for the record, I’m fine about it all.’ It was the truth, just not the whole truth.
‘I know. Just don’t push yourself too hard and fast to get up and running again. You’re going to be pummelled with emotions for a while, but I’m here, okay? We can talk any time, about anything.’
‘Someone else with nothing to keep their mind occupied but me and my problems.’ What was it with people today? Was this their way of looking out for her? To tell her what to do, and how and when?
‘Nixon giving you grief, was he? I couldn’t believe it when he turned up earlier. Then again, maybe I could.’
The downside of living next to each other was they both knew who their visitors were, what music they were listening to, and what was cooking on the stovetop. ‘Just as well for that woman he was here.’
‘You can say that again.’ Abbie shuddered. ‘That poor little boy was so scared. I hope he didn’t see his mother lying on the ground.’
‘Me too.’ Emma watched Grace feeding. ‘Sorry about the loud music. Hope I didn’t wake the baby. I was trying to distract myself.’
‘I guessed. Don’t worry, it wasn’t that loud. Maybe she’s going to be a rocker because she wasn’t fazed at all.’
‘I’ll move apartments before she’s old enough to know how to download tunes.’
‘Why did Nixon visit?’ Persistent. ‘It’s not like he ever has before.’
See? Abbie didn’t miss a thing. Two could play at that game. ‘Callum left for work early this morning.’
Abbie blushed. ‘He stayed the night—not that it was very restful with little miss making herself known every hour.’
‘Bet she wasn’t the only cause of lack of sleep,’ Emma retorted around a grin. ‘Did he get called in early?’
Abbie nodded. ‘There was an accident on Lake Wanaka. Two boats were racing and crashed into each other.’
‘Morons. No one ever thinks it’ll happen to them.’ In ED they’d seen and dealt with every scenario and nothing much surprised either of them. ‘I didn’t hear the helicopter.’ Callum was a paramedic on the rescue helicopter.
‘They came in while you were taking Rosie to meet up for her llama visit.’ Abbie lifted Grace from her breast and laid her over her shoulder for a back rub. Just like an old hand. ‘Nixon? Don’t think you can avoid my question.’
Hadn’t thought I could.
But she had given it her best shot, hoping Abbie had baby brain too. Got that wrong, hadn’t she? Bloodhound Abbie never dropped a question she was bursting to know the answer to, and Nixon’s visit was right up there. ‘He was checking up on me. Brought some pastries for lunch so I didn’t mind being looked in on.’
‘Oh, right. His phone wasn’t working, then. I hope you were nice and friendly.’
‘Why wouldn’t I be?’ Emma could feel her hackles rising. Down girl. This is Abbie, who says whatever she likes to you.
‘Because you need a man in your life, and who better than Nixon? He’s got everything a hot-blooded woman needs. At least I presume he does.’
‘I do not need a man. I do just fine alone. Okay, not alone. There’s Dad, Daniel and Shaun to annoy the heck out of me with all their checking and telling me how to run my life.’
Abbie grinned. ‘They’re not the sort of men I was thinking of. A man, as in sex and kisses and holding hands and—’
‘Shut up, Abbie, and give me Grace.’ Emma reached for the baby and hugged her carefully against her achy breasts. This time the ache didn’t bother her. Instead she felt right holding Grace and knowing she would be giving the cute little dot back to her mum shortly. Her hackles had returned to their normal position, quiet and submissive. ‘She’s gorgeous.’
‘Absolutely,’ Abbie sighed through her perpetual smile. ‘Do you think Nixon’s hot? Because if you don’t I’ll never mention him again in connection with you.’
She should’ve known Abbie hadn’t finished. ‘This is me you’re telling that ridiculous lie to.’
The smile widened. ‘So? Hot? Or not?’
The air limped out of her lungs. ‘Hot.’
‘Yes.’ Abbie punched the air. ‘I knew it.’
‘Don’t go there. Every female in Queenstown over the age of ten would agree with us. I am normal in that respect. Nothing’s going to happen between single mum me and Mr Uninvolved. Nixon’s devoted to his career and lives most of his life in ED. When he’s not there he’s outdoors on his bike. He’s not the type to drop by for a glass of wine.’ Except he’d sat on her deck an hour ago. ‘He doesn’t like knowing why people are upset or not coping with something.’ Yet he was always there when she needed help.
The more she said, the more Emma realised she’d nailed what was worrying her about him. She didn’t really know Nixon. He appeared to do the avoidance thing yet made his shoulder available whenever she needed it. More importantly, today he’d known exactly why she was so moody. Too easily, what was more. Leading her to see through that reserve he kept in place more often than not. Had Nixon let her closer than anyone else? Still not close enough to talk about what put that anguish in his gaze while trying to save the woman. What had that been about? He’d been shaken up badly, off the Richter scale. All she’d wanted was to hold him until that pain and desperation disappeared.
Get real, Emma. You’re looking for trouble. Tomorrow, or next week, or next month, when your hormones are back in place, you’ll recall this and have a bloody good laugh for being so naïve.
Fingers crossed.
Abbie screwed up her nose. ‘Won
der why he does keep himself aloof more than most people. Look at that three-date rule he’s supposed to have. It’s kind of strange when he can be social and always keeps tabs on his staff if there’s something going on in their lives that’s causing problems. No denying he holds a piece of himself back. An important piece, I reckon.’
Grace blew a bubble and Emma gently wiped the goo away. She was so cute. Time to change the subject. ‘Thanks for understanding. I will move on, still hang around, and try not to watch you like a hawk over how you’re doing with Grace.’
‘You don’t think I know that?’ Abbie came and wrapped her arms around Emma and her daughter. ‘Silly woman.’
‘I’ve had some doubts over the past months,’ Emma admitted.
‘Knew that too.’
‘Know-it-all.’ Emma relaxed totally for the first time since Grace’s arrival. There’d be days when she struggled with letting go but with Abbie being so understanding she’d make it through the murky patches. She would.
Nixon had made a valid point though. She shouldn’t rush the process; she needed to deal with errant hormones and emotions as they arose, not tease them into existence and then get upset because she couldn’t beat them into submission.
Abbie had more to say. Nothing new there. ‘You’re so generous of spirit to those of us you hold in your heart. You’d do anything for us. Carrying my baby was never going to be a stroll in the park but you did it, and did it graciously.’ Abbie wiped the back of her hand over her eyes. ‘If Alvin hadn’t done all those hideous things to you and you hadn’t had my shoulder to cry on, do you think you’d have given me Grace?’
‘Of course I would’ve.’ Emma paused, thought about it some more. ‘I might not have known to make the offer, because I wouldn’t have understood the pain of never having something I’d grown up always believing would be my right. But I would’ve said yes if you’d asked.’
‘See? You gave me Michael’s baby when I couldn’t carry a baby to term. I love you to bits but the love you thought you’d have with Alvin, that raising kids and growing older together love, the thing you believed was your right, didn’t happen. You understand loss.’
Where was Abbie going with this? She didn’t have to wait long to find out.
‘Nixon won’t hurt you. I’d swear to that.’
‘You’re forgetting, I never pegged Alvin for the monster he turned out to be. Nor did you.’
‘True.’ Abbie’s smile finally faded. She’d always felt bad about not working out what had been going on behind Emma’s closed door during her marriage. Not that they’d lived next door to each other then. That had come after Emma had gone solo and started looking for her own place. It had been Abbie who’d suggested she move into the apartment next to hers and made her parents take Emma as a tenant. The move had turned her life around and got her back on track, this time as a solo mum.
‘Hey, don’t go there. I could’ve told you long before I did.’ They’d also had this part of the conversation more than once. ‘For the record, I think you’re right. Nixon doesn’t have a nasty bone in his body.’
‘You’ve seen his bones?’ A wicked gleam lit up Abbie’s eyes.
‘No.’
‘I saw that. You want to.’
Emma screwed up her nose, and gave up trying to remain coy. ‘Is it possible to have a fling—okay, sex—with a guy for as long as it takes to get the need out of your system and then walk away without being hurt?’
‘For you and me, no.’
‘Then this conversation’s redundant. Nixon remains in the boss and casual friend category.’ A sharp pain stabbed behind her ribs. Nothing to do with boobs that were full of milk not needed, and all to do with a longing she hadn’t known existed until very recently, and which she couldn’t—but had to find a way to—deny.
‘Em.’ Abbie nudged her. ‘Don’t be so hard on yourself. Or on any guy who comes along showing some interest in you. Your life isn’t over.’
Said the woman who’d believed for a long time that her life was finished when Michael died. It was Emma’s turn to slash tears away from her cheeks. Staring down at the gorgeous bundle tucked into her arm, she gave a wobbly smile. ‘I have Rosie.’ She didn’t need anyone else. But there were days when she wouldn’t mind a man in her life she could trust and rely on not to beat her up. And to love her for who she was. ‘My life’s pretty darned good these days.’ She’d had lunch with a friend on her deck. That never happened.
She’d ignore the longing for strong arms and a warm male body tucked against hers lying in bed that sometimes woke her in the deep of the night and kept her awake for hours. It only happened occasionally. She could handle that. It was how she stayed safe.
CHAPTER FIVE
ROSIE RAN AROUND the park, shrieking and laughing as only little girls did as she held onto the kite’s string. ‘Mummy, look what I can do.’
Emma tightened her hold on the wooden baton holding the rest of the string, staying in the centre of Rosie’s circles. ‘Awesome.’ The kite dipped and came close to the ground before soaring on a chilly gust of wind. Summer had taken a leaf from winter’s book and dumped a load of snow on the Remarkables over night.
‘Do you think Santa can see me?’ Rosie spun round and round, her head tipped back to watch the caterpillar-shaped kite until vertigo won out and she tumbled over, landing on her back, feet in the air.
‘Hey, careful.’
‘Must be all right. She’s still laughing.’
Emma’s head shot up too fast, and her neck cricked. ‘Nixon?’ Who else had a voice that lifted her skin and tightened her gut? So, the hormones were still out of whack.
‘Heard you two were down here creating havoc. This one’s just like her mother.’
‘Naturally. All kids pick up some of their parents’ ways, and as long as Rosie’s got my better ones we’re doing okay.’
‘I guess.’ Nixon strode across to giggling Rosie and pulled her to her feet. ‘You’ve got to look where you’re going, missy.’
‘Did you see me crash, Nixon? Watch me with the kite.’ She was off, racing across the park, her little legs pumping fast. Once again her focus was on the kite as it began rising back into the air, and not on where she was going.
‘I’ve got it,’ Nixon tossed Emma’s way and chased after Rosie.
‘You need this,’ Emma called. Just like her daughter, he wasn’t watching anything but the kite, but he’d heard her and took the baton. Ignoring the flare of heat where his fingers brushed hers, she followed at a leisurely pace.
Why was he here helping Rosie launch the kite after a sudden nosedive into the bushes? ‘How did you know where to find us?’ she asked.
‘Abbie.’ Nixon stood hands on hips, his eyes tracking Rosie, wariness on his face.
‘You weren’t meant to say?’
He shrugged. ‘It would’ve been better if I hadn’t, apparently.’
‘Abbie will want to live a little longer.’ She wouldn’t admit to being happy Nixon was here.
He smiled, and her stomach dived. ‘I dropped by to see how you’re getting on.’
‘Nixon, are you coming to our picnic?’ Rosie burst between them. ‘We’re going to have it after I finish flying my kite.’
He flicked Emma a silent query, and she nodded.
‘We’ve got chocolate biscuits,’ Rosie enticed.
‘I can’t say no to those, can I?’ Nixon laughed. Very carefree today.
‘Yippee.’ Rosie was off running more circles.
Emma watched her as she said, ‘About work, if it fits I might do some mornings later in the week. I can be the bandage nurse, fix cuts and bruises. Nothing heavy.’ She looked up into his eyes. ‘I’m going to start painting stripes on my walls soon. Purple and red ones.’
‘Stripes?’
‘Or a large snakes and ladders board.’
‘You’re bored at home?’ Nixon hiccupped. ‘That’s why you’re down here?’
‘Sort of.’ No. ‘I needed to ge
t away from Grace crying.’
The beginning laughter faded instantly. ‘You’re looking for diversion. Is this doing it for you?’
‘Sometimes I feel a ball of tears building up and I’m afraid to let them out. Especially when Abbie could walk in any moment. She doesn’t need to see me losing it. That would make her sad at a time when she should be happy.’
‘You’re feeling empty?’
Bang on. ‘There’s a big hole where normally the baby would be. It’s not unexpected, but it’s hard all the same. Then I see the love and joy in Abbie’s eyes and the hole disappears for a while.’
‘To come back when you’re tired or Grace is crying.’
She nodded. ‘I have to be patient.’ It hadn’t started getting any easier yet.
‘You’re being honest with yourself, and that’s got to help.’ Nixon stared across the park. ‘You’ve got Rosie, too.’
‘I’d be lost without her. I only hope I’m not putting any pressure on her as a substitute.’
I’m being honest with you, too. Understand? I’m telling you how I feel. Think you could do the same next time I ask about your feelings?
‘Rosie looks as happy as ever.’
‘Thanks,’ she said neutrally, and waited for more comments on how she was doing, because they were coming. Plain as day in that intense gaze.
Nixon looked down at her, his steady, deep gaze making her feel warm and cared about. ‘You’re amazing, you know?’ Then he blinked, as though he’d shocked himself.
Amazing, huh? She’d take it, even if it wasn’t true. A girl could get used to compliments. Could even start believing them.
It still rankled that he hadn’t opened up even an incy-wincy bit about his reaction at the crash, but she could’ve got that wrong too. Reading people wasn’t always her forte. Sick, injured, frightened patients—yes. Joe Average on the street, in her apartment, at Rosie’s school? Not often. She’d used to have that skill, but maybe she needed to start trusting herself again?
‘Nixon, Mummy, the kite’s in the tree.’