One Night She Would Never Forget

by Amy Andrews

  He’d been in a holding pattern for so long he was looking forward to moving on.

  As they were leaving the restaurant Lola, who was having a sleepover with Ruby, said, ‘Are you coming back in the morning to pick me up, Mummy?’

  ‘Nope,’ Patrick announced. ‘Your mummy is sleeping over too.’

  Startled, Miranda glanced at him sharply. ‘I am?’

  He nodded. ‘Sure you are.’

  ‘But we don’t have another bedroom, Daddy,’ Ruby pointed out.

  Patrick grinned at Ruby then grabbed Miranda, dipped her quickly and planted a quick, hard kiss on her mouth. ‘She’s sleeping in my bed,’ he growled, before letting her go.

  Miranda felt dizzy when he righted her and she wasn’t entirely sure it had to do with the dip or the frank possession in his voice that was causing the earth to spin. They hadn’t kissed in front of the girls before and Miranda checked on their reaction.

  She needn’t have worried.

  Ruby and Lola were digging each other in the ribs and giggling. Helen looked strangely resigned.

  ‘Let’s go,’ Patrick said.

  * * *

  A couple of hours later the girls were asleep and Miranda and Patrick were watching a DVD in the lounge room. At least, Miranda was trying to. Patrick kept whispering all the outrageous things he was going to do to her when he got her to bed as he nuzzled her ear and his hand wandered up and down her thigh. Miranda, aware of Helen sitting at the table behind them at her sewing machine, was fending him off valiantly.

  She felt sorry for Katie’s mother, particularly today. How would she feel if Lola decided to cut her out of her life?

  ‘Let’s go to bed,’ he murmured.

  ‘It’s only nine o’clock,’ she whispered, shutting her eyes as his lips buzzed her jaw. If Helen hadn’t been right there she’d have pushed him down on the lounge and had her way with him—hell, they wouldn’t even be watching the damn movie. But she was and one of them had to be sensitive to their audience.

  Patrick’s fingers stroked up her leg. ‘Move in with me,’ he murmured.

  Miranda slammed her hand down on his at it made for the inner seam of her jeans high on her thigh. She angled her neck to allow him better access as he dropped a kiss behind her ear. ‘Patrick...’ she sighed.

  ‘You said, wait until after the divorce.’ He raised his head and looked at her. ‘I’m officially divorced.’

  Miranda shook her head. ‘How can I think straight when you play dirty?’

  Patrick smiled against her neck. ‘This isn’t dirty,’ he murmured, and tried to move his hand closer to the goalpost between her legs, but Miranda held it firmly in check.

  ‘Patrick,’ she said, her voice carrying a low warning as his teeth pressed against her skin and his whiskers scraped erotically along her collarbone. ‘Maybe you need a cool drink?’

  ‘No, I’m fine.’

  Well she certainly needed one or she was going to pounce on him here and now, audience or not.

  Miranda wiggled out of his clutches to a standing position. Her chest heaved in and out a little and he gave her a slow, lazy smile as he let his gaze drift all over her body.

  She shook her head at him, smiling at his incorrigibility. ‘I’ll get us some,’ she said, her voice warning him to behave.

  She was halfway to the kitchen when the doorbell rang. Patrick frowned down at his watch. Helen looked up from the sewing machine.

  ‘I’ll go,’ Miranda said, peeling off in the direction of the door, grateful for any time and space she could put between Patrick and her hormones before she got sucked back into the sexual force field that seemed to ooze from his every pore.

  She opened the door, smiling as the memory of Patrick’s lingering gaze titillated her way more than it should. A woman about her age stood at the door, the sensor light spilling down on a swathe of silky red hair burnishing the highlights into strands of golden thread. Miranda’s smile died a quick death. She drew in a breath as the same feeling of foreboding she’d had while talking to Mal returned with vigour.

  There was only one person this could be.

  ‘Katie?’ she said.

  The woman frowned slightly but said, ‘Yes,’ and then, ‘I’m sorry. I know it’s a little on the late side but I thought it would be best to come after I was sure Ruby would be down for the night.’

  Miranda stood holding the screen door open, not taking any of it in, not moving. If she’d thought Mal’s appearance had been a jolt, Katie’s was like a lightning strike to her heart.

  ‘Can I...can I come in?’ she asked hesitantly. ‘I’d like to talk to my mother...and Patrick.’

  ‘Oh, yes, of course,’ Miranda said, going into perfect hostess role even though the walls of her world were crashing down. She fell back and swept her hand in the direction of the lounge room. ‘Through that way,’ she said.

  Miranda was right behind Katie when she entered the lounge room and was, as such, privy to Patrick and Helen’s reactions. Helen burst into tears. Patrick’s reaction was more measured. He ran a hand through his hair then shoved it on his hip as he stared at his wife.

  Ex-wife.

  Helen ran to her daughter and as Miranda made her way around the two of them, both women were crying and embracing. Patrick shifted his gaze to her and held out his arms. Miranda wanted nothing more than to walk into them, to feel their reassurance, but this, this...bomb blast was a game changer and she’d be stupid to think otherwise. So she avoided his embrace, dodged his gaze.

  Patrick frowned at Miranda’s evasion as Helen sobbed and hugged Katie. ‘I can’t believe you’re here,’ Helen blubbered. ‘I thought this day would never come.’

  ‘I’m so sorry, Mum,’ Katie cried. ‘I’m sorry I stayed away so long.’

  Miranda turned to Patrick. ‘I think I should go,’ she said, gathering her hand bag off the lounge. She felt like an intruder in what should be a very private family reunion.

  Patrick shook his head and grabbed her arm. ‘No. You’re staying. You belong here much more than she does.’

  Miranda shivered at the steel in his voice that even reached the two sobbing women. ‘Patrick!’ Helen gasped.

  ‘What? You can’t be serious, Helen. Five years of desertion and you’re just going to open your arms and forgive her for everything?’

  ‘Of course not,’ Helen said, dashing the tears from her eyes. ‘But if you don’t mind, right this moment I’d like a little time to just be happy.’

  ‘It’s okay, Mum,’ Katie said, swiping at her own tears. ‘Patrick has every right to be furious. I owe him the biggest apology of all.’

  Patrick could feel anger rising in him like a steaming kettle. She had no freaking idea how furious he was. ‘No.’ He snapped his back ramrod straight. ‘You owe your daughter the biggest one of all.’

  Katie teared up again. ‘Yes,’ she sniffled.

  Patrick glared at her. She screwed up their lives and then just calmly waltzed back in after five years? ‘What do you want, Katie?’

  ‘Patrick...do we have to do this now?’ Helen chided.

  ‘Yes, Helen, we do. We really do. Katie’s obviously shown up tonight for a reason.’

  Miranda did not want to hear this. She tried to leave again but Patrick held fast to her arm.

  ‘I’ve been trying to summon up the courage to come back for about six months now,’ Katie said, her voice tremulous. ‘I’ve been working on getting my head together for the last year or so. I took the divorce papers as a sign.’

  Miranda blinked. What kind of sign? A realised-what-I’m-missing-out-on sign? A don’t-really-want-it-to-be-over sign? Her heart beat so loudly Miranda was surprised no one else could hear it. She eased out of Patrick’s grip and sank into the nearest chair because she wasn’t sure how much longer her
legs were going to support her.

  Patrick snorted. ‘The divorce papers weren’t some open invitation to come back, Katie. They were closure. Our marriage is over.’

  ‘I’m not talking about a sign for us, for our relationship. I’m talking about Ruby. About building a relationship with her. About being her mother.’

  Patrick felt the steam burn and boil as his blood pressure hit the roof. ‘Oh, so you want to be her mother now, do you?’

  Katie took a step back as his anger blasted over her with the full force of a roadside bomb. ‘I don’t expect it to happen overnight...but, yes, I want to start reconnecting with her...’

  For the first time in his life Patrick understood what people said when they talked about seeing red. It blurred his vision and he blinked hard to shift it. A cold mist descended over him, freezing out any ounce of compassion.

  ‘Over. My. Dead. Body.’

  ‘Patrick,’ Helen said reproachfully, as more tears squeezed out of Katie’s eyes.

  ‘I’m happy to go slowly, to do it on your terms,’ Katie said quietly. ‘For you to set the agenda.’

  He shook his head. ‘No.’

  Katie clutched her mother’s arm hard and swallowed.

  ‘Okay, maybe we all need a little time to adjust. I’ll go—for now. But I want to talk again when you’ve calmed down, work out a way forward.’

  Patrick couldn’t believe what he was hearing. She turned up after five years, he didn’t know the first thing about who she was now or even if she was capable of looking after a five-year-old, and she just expected him to hand over to her the most precious thing in the world to him?

  ‘You can talk to my lawyer.’

  Helen whimpered as tears sprang to her eyes again and Katie patted her hand. ‘You need to know that I’m not going anywhere, Patrick. I made some mistakes that I can’t take back but I am her mother and I’m here to make up for lost time, to be a permanent part of her life, so you’re going to have to deal with me.’

  Patrick shook his head at her audacity. She was going to throw her rights in his face? ‘Get out,’ he said.

  Miranda shivered at the menace in his tone. She’d only ever known Patrick to be laid back. This Patrick was deadly serious.

  ‘Where are you staying, darling?’ Helen asked.

  ‘I’ve checked into a caravan park with some cabins for a few days,’ Katie said. ‘Do you want to come back with me?’

  Helen hugged her daughter hard. ‘Of course.’ She looked at Patrick. ‘Is that okay?’

  Patrick wanted to break things. Since when had Helen needed to ask his permission for anything? ‘You’re not my indentured servant, Helen,’ he snapped. ‘You can do whatever you want.’

  Helen ignored the tone and tugged on her daughter’s arm. ‘Come with me while I throw some things into a bag.’

  Silence reigned, thick and heavy, as Miranda watched Patrick prowl around the lounge room for the five minutes it took for Helen and Katie to leave the house. The door shut after them and he collapsed back into the lounge chair, raking his hands through his hair. He looked like he’d been punched when he finally turned his troubled autumn gaze her way.

  ‘Un-freaking-believable,’ he said.

  Miranda wanted to go to him, to fold him in her arms and tell him it was all going to be okay, but she wasn’t sure it would be. Not for her and him anyway, and she could already feel herself pulling back, curling in on herself emotionally, like she had as a child every time her father had walked out the door again.

  ‘It was always on the cards that she’d come back someday,’ Miranda said gently.

  Her quiet truth drained Patrick of his anger in an instant. Yes, he’d known it too. But today, of all days? Talk about raining on his parade! He sat forward in his chair, leaning his elbows on his knees. ‘It doesn’t mean she can waltz in and start demanding things,’ he said wearily.

  Miranda nodded. ‘If it’s any consolation, I don’t think she wants to do that.’

  Patrick looked at her. ‘It sounds like you’re on her side.’

  Miranda felt a shiver down her spine as he evoked echoes from her childhood. Already there was talk of sides. Which side would Lola chose? ‘She’s Ruby’s mother, Patrick.’

  ‘Who walked out on her when she was six weeks old?’ he fumed.

  Miranda nodded. ‘I know. I know. But if she really wants to come back in and can prove she’s willing and able...’ Even the thought broke Miranda’s heart. ‘I don’t think it would be wise to deny her that.’

  Patrick didn’t want to hear reason. Not tonight. Tonight he wanted to be angry. ‘So you’re allowed to deny Mal contact with Lola but I’m not allowed to do the same with Katie?’

  ‘It’s not the same situation and you know it,’ Miranda said, reaching for calmness that she did not feel. ‘You were married to Katie. She grew Ruby inside her and she gave birth to her, and even though she left she would have formed a bond with Ruby in those months.’

  Part of Miranda felt for Katie even if she didn’t understand her. How had she coped without seeing her daughter for all those years?

  ‘Also not forgetting you have an ongoing existing close relationship with Katie’s mother, as does Ruby with her grandmother. I had none of that with Mal. He was nothing more than a...sperm donor. Katie was your wife and Ruby’s mother, no matter how briefly, and that’s a huge difference.’

  And it didn’t bode well for her.

  ‘And if Mal had insisted, I wouldn’t have denied him, and I really don’t think you can deny Katie or Ruby a chance at a relationship, Patrick. Not without it backfiring on you badly. And, as a mother, I would be disappointed in you if you did.’

  Miranda stood then because although she believed every word she’d just said, that working out an arrangement with Katie was the right thing to do, it didn’t mean it was easy to say.

  ‘I’m going,’ she said.

  She needed to step back and give Patrick and Katie time to sort out what came next. And if she stayed tonight she wasn’t sure if she’d be strong enough to walk away.

  Patrick stood too. ‘No, don’t... Please stay.’ If there was ever a night he needed to be with the woman he loved, to ground himself, to reassure himself, it was tonight. ‘I need you.’

  Miranda squeezed back the tears that pricked like poison darts at her eyes. He reached for her again and she sidestepped him, pulling back emotionally as well as physically.

  ‘I can’t,’ she said, looking at him, silently begging him to see that walking away was hard for her as well. ‘I need to think. So do you.’

  Patrick raked a hand through his hair. ‘Nothing has to change, Miranda. Not if we don’t let it.’

  She gave him a sad smile. He was too smart not to know that everything had changed. ‘Sometimes we don’t get a choice,’ she murmured.

  And she walked away on wobbly legs.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  PATRICK LOOKED AS if he hadn’t slept a wink when Miranda dropped round the next morning to pick Lola up. Which made two of them. So this time when he held his arms out to her she didn’t resist, allowing herself to sink into them, to hold him one more time.

  He felt solid and smelled like coffee and chocolate Cocoa Pops and she didn’t want to let him go, but she was thankful for the umpteenth time she hadn’t allowed herself to fall in love with him. To have let herself go there. Last night would have utterly destroyed her had she been in love with him. There was only a certain number of times a girl could be knocked down before she never got up again.

  ‘Still pissed off?’ she asked him with a slight smile as she pulled away.

  He gave a grudging smile of his own. ‘Yep.’

  Miranda watched as he poured her a coffee and when she took it from him she was careful they didn’t come into contact. They
took the drinks out to the back deck and she was conscious of him behind her all the way.

  ‘So,’ she said as she sat at the table, waving to Lola as the girls played in the sandpit, ‘did you come to any conclusions last night? Got a plan?’

  Patrick shrugged. His eyes felt gritty and just thinking about the situation was enough to give him a headache. ‘I need to talk to my lawyer on Monday, first.’

  An itch worked up Miranda’s spine and she was torn between what she wanted to say and what was the right thing to say. She didn’t want to be the one to tell him what to do with his ex-wife. To be the nagger like her mother had been with her father about his wife—she didn’t want that relationship with him.

  But she didn’t want him to stuff things up either. For himself or for Ruby.

  ‘Do you think threatening her with legal action is the best foot to put forward in the first instance? Do you really want to alienate her from the get-go? Alienate Helen?’

  ‘I’m not talking about legal action. I just want to know my rights. Her rights. It’s just...advice.’

  They watched the girls playing for a while, drinking their coffee in silence. Patrick glanced at Miranda surreptitiously. She’d always held herself back a bit and he understood why, but still he’d known that, underneath it all, her feelings for him ran deep and true.

  But overnight she seemed to have withdrawn even more.

  ‘I meant what I said last night,’ he murmured.

  Miranda’s fingers tightened around her coffee mug. She took a second to gather herself before she looked at him and played dumb. ‘What did you say?’

  ‘Nothing has to change with us. I still love you. I still want you and Lola to move in. I still want us to be a family.’

  Miranda felt his words ping against her heart, each one a tiny little bullet drawing blood.

  ‘Patrick...’ She shook her head and battled the tears she’d refused to let fall all night and which she’d be damned if she’d let fall now. Someone had to be the voice of reason here and it looked like it was going to be her.