by Lyn Denison
“We probably won’t see much of Rhys for the rest of the week,” Liz was saying. “He’s busy organizing things so he can have some time off next week.”
Shann began to feel some guilt for her silence. “This stir-fry is really delicious.” She complimented her sister. “I think I should warn you all in advance that I’m not the world’s best chef.”
“You’re not that bad, Mum,” Corey said loyally before he gave Shann a teasing grin. “Except we won’t ask Mum to cook rice pudding, though. That would be a bad move.” He screwed up his nose, and Shann laughed.
“Not fair, Corey. That was the one and only time I let anything burn.”
Liz related a few of her culinary disasters, and by the time they were eating dessert, they were all far more relaxed.
“Guess what, Pop?” Corey turned to his grandfather. “I got to meet Tiger before.”
“Tiger?” Jim Delaney looked perplexed.
“The big dog next door,” Corey explained.
Jim looked at Liz. “The Callahans have a dog?”
“Not exactly. They’re dog sitting. I thought I told you.”
“So that’s where the barking’s coming from. I heard it on and off all day yesterday.” He frowned.
“Uh! Oh!” Amy said in mock fear. “Old Mrs. Jones will be making complaints about the noise.”
“She still lives across the street?” Shann was amazed. “She must be over a hundred.”
“Ninety-seven,” said Liz. “Her daughter lives with her now but she still gets about. Catches the bus down to the shops and the Senior Citizens Club.”
“But she hates noise,” Amy persisted. “So they’ll have to keep Tiger quiet.”
“Is it Robbie’s dog?” asked their father.
“Ah. No.” Liz began moving her cutlery around, not meeting Shann’s eyes. “It’s the Radfords. They’ve gone to New Zealand. I think that’s where Ann said they were going.”
“The Radfords?” Jim frowned.
Shann felt the tension in the dining room reverberate, bouncing from wall to wall as the name hung in the air. Yet her father didn’t seem to notice. But Shann knew Liz did.
“Oh. Leigh and her husband.” Jim seemed to realize what he’d said and looked across at Shann and just as quickly away.
Leigh Callahan. The name echoed inside Shann. No, not Callahan. Not anymore. Leigh Radford.
Shann’s heartbeats flipped over themselves, and she replaced her spoon on her plate, knowing she would be unable to swallow anything at that moment. Not if her life depended on it.
“Yes. They’ve gone to New Zealand.” Liz said quickly. “Touring in a motor home. The South Island I believe.”
“They’ve left their car next door with Aunt Ann and Uncle Mike, too,” added Amy. “It’s a Jag.”
“Wow! What model?” asked Corey, and Amy pulled a face at him.
“No idea. I just know it’s sort of metallic red if that helps.”
“They’re pretty expensive cars,” Corey told his cousin seriously. “It’d cost the earth in running expenses.”
“And what do you know about running expenses, young man?” his grandfather asked him lightly enough.
“Well, you know, insurance, rego, petrol, and stuff. Mum and I researched all that before we bought our four-wheel drive.”
“I’m pleased to hear that,” Jim said with a genuine smile.
“Oh, yes.” Corey nodded. “And a Jag would cost heaps.”
“I don’t think that would worry Leigh and Evan,” remarked Amy. “They’re really rich.”
“Amy!” Liz admonished. “It’s hardly nice to gossip about people in that way.”
“Oh, Mum.” Amy gave her mother an exasperated look. “Everyone knows how rich they are. Evan developed some machinery or other to do with cutting sugar cane, and he sold it for heaps of money. It was in the local paper.”
That was one paper Liz hadn’t sent on, Shann reflected. Liz, always the protector.
“I think I’ll have my coffee in the living room.” Jim Delaney moved slowly to his feet. Corey ran around and passed him his crutches. His grandfather ruffled his hair. “Thanks, Corey. I don’t want to miss the news.” He shuffled out of the room.
“Can I go and watch the news with Pop?” Corey asked, and Shann nodded.
“But don’t talk while the reports are on,” she warned him, and he gave her an old-fashioned look.
“Oh, Mum! Like I would.”
“And Amy, you can take Pop’s coffee in to him before you start your homework.” Liz passed her daughter a cup of coffee.
Amy rolled her eyes and, taking the cup, she headed out of the room.
“Well,” exclaimed Liz brightly. “That wasn’t too bad, was it? Better than I’d hoped. Sure you don’t want some coffee yourself, Shann?”
Shann shook her head. “No, thanks. I’ll be awake all night if I drink coffee after lunch.”
“How about some tea then?”
“No. Don’t worry, Liz. You don’t have to wait on me. You’ve done enough. Just relax and finish your coffee.”
Liz patted Shann’s hand. “I’m just pleased to have you here. I know Amy’s fifteen and probably old enough to stand in for me, but I didn’t want her schooling interrupted and, well, as I said, I’m just pleased to have you here. I really am.”
Shann laughed. “Okay. I’m beginning to believe you.”
Liz sipped her coffee, then absently rubbed at the lipstick smudge left on the rim. “Shann? About Leigh?”
Shann stiffened.
“They’ll be away for the next month or so, and there’s no reason why you need to see them when they return.”
“No. I know.”
“And I had no idea they were going to be anywhere near here. They live up north and hardly ever visit Ann and Mike.”
“It’s a free country, Liz,” Shann shrugged. “I can’t dictate where they go or don’t go.”
“I know. But—”
“It’s in the past, Liz.”
“Is it? Are you sure?”
Shann nodded. “Ten years is a long time,” she said flatly.
“I suppose so.” Liz sighed. “They got married about a year after you left. Everyone was surprised she chose Evan Radford.”
Shann had been, too. And devastated. Anyone but Evan Radford.
“But the marriage has lasted,” Liz continued. “Evan’s done very well for himself. And I think he has improved with age.”
“I find that a bit of a stretch,” Shann put in dryly and Liz gave a laugh.
“No. He really has. Who knows? Maybe Leigh’s been good for him?”
A knife sliced somewhere in the region of Shann’s heart. Shann had been so sure Leigh had been good for her, too.
“They have two kids,” added Liz. “A boy and a girl.”
She tried to analyze her feelings about that, about Leigh having children. Evan’s children. But all she felt was a heavy numbness.
“They seem nice little kids. Blond and blue eyed. Look like Leigh.”
Shann’s gaze met her sister’s, and Liz grinned. “Lucky about that, hey? Because Evan Radford was never an oil painting in the looks department.”
A reluctant smile tugged at the corners of Shann’s mouth. “No, he wasn’t,” she acknowledged. They’d all gone to school together, and Evan had never been liked. He was a total nonentity. Tall. Thin. Awkward. But smart in a sneaky, underhand way. Evan had the knack of using any situation to his own advantage. And if he was slighted he waited and sought his revenge. Shann knew this better than anyone.
That familiar feeling of panic rose inside her, and she wiped a hand over her face, feeling the sudden chill that always passed over her when she thought about—
“And who would have laid bets that Evan Radford would have made anything of himself?” Liz broke into Shann’s tortured thoughts. “I mean, snaky little Evan Radford! But do you know what? He was at last year’s school reunion and surprised everyone by being quite nice, accordi
ng to Mary Lenton. Remember her? From your year? She married an Italian and lives up in Mareeba now.” Liz talked on about people they both knew.
Shann made herself concentrate. At least then she wouldn’t have to think about Evan Radford. Or about Leigh.
“I have to cut back on this,” Liz said ruefully as she poured herself another cup of coffee. She looked across at Shann, her gaze levelly holding her sister’s. “You know, when I asked you to come up here I never considered that you might have someone special you’d be leaving behind. Is there? Someone special?”
“No.” Shann shook her head. “No one special.”
Actually, if she had simply said, no, no one, it would have been a more accurate reply.
A couple of times in the past ten years she’d met someone and thought it might work out. But it never had. At one stage she’d even thought perhaps she needed to come back and face Leigh, lay her ghost. But, of course, she couldn’t. Among other things, Leigh had accused Shann of breaking her heart. It was a moot point, Shann reflected wryly, about who had broken whose heart.
“Has there ever been?”
Shann drew her thoughts back to the present and raised an inquiring dark eyebrow.
“Anyone special? Since you left?” Liz expanded, and Shann shook her head again. “I never have asked you.” Liz gave a self-deprecating laugh. “If I were honest I’d have to admit that part of it was that I wasn’t sure I could, well, cope with what you’d say.” She looked at Shann and Shann sighed.
“When Corey was three I met Toni,” she began.
“Tony?” Liz repeated hopefully.
“Toni. With an i. She couldn’t come to terms with an instant family. So—”
“Oh. She?”
“Yes. I’m a lesbian, Liz. It will always be she with me.”
“I guess I’ve never brought the subject up with you because I wasn’t sure. I mean, you and Leigh were little more than kids. And later I didn’t know if you wanted to talk about it.”
Shann picked up a teaspoon and turned it over and over in her fingers. “I’m far more comfortable with myself these days, Liz,” she said, knowing that at least was true.
Liz nodded slowly. “I can’t really say I understand why you feel that way, Shann. I mean, men can be trying, I’ll give you that, but, well, I can’t get past the sex thing.”
Shann laughed lightly. “It’s not just about sex, although I’ve got no complaints about that. It’s just a . . . I don’t quite know how to explain it. An affinity, I guess. I define myself with women the way I never can with men.”
Liz nodded again. “I accept that you feel that way, love, even if I don’t understand it. I suppose what’s really important is not who you love, but that you love someone and you’re happy. You’re my sister, and I love you. Even if you’re something of a mystery to me.”
“I love you, too, Liz, and I appreciate your support. And for the record, I can’t explain why I feel that way either. I just do.”
“But what about Corey?” Liz asked gently. “How do you think he’ll react when you tell him?”
“He already knows. And he’s fine with it.”
“He is?”
“Yes. He knows it’s part of who I am. Besides,” Shann smiled, “there were three other kids in his class who had two mothers. And one who had two dads.”
“There were?” Liz grinned. “Well, that puts me in my place and reminds me I’m twelve years older than you are. I’m almost from another generation.”
“Hardly.” Shann laughed. Her sister could pass for thirty, certainly didn’t look like a woman who had already turned forty.
“Kids certainly get a more eclectic education than I did. Sometimes some of the things Amy tells me totally flummox me.” She laughed. “I’ve developed quite an acceptable acting technique over the years just so she doesn’t think I’m a crusty old fuddy duddy. It’s not easy.”
“I suppose it isn’t. I do admit to being slightly apprehensive about facing Corey’s teenage years when I think about my own.”
“Oh, Corey will be okay. I can tell.”
“I hope you’re right. For my own selfish reasons.” Shann laughed and then sobered. “Do Amy and Gerard know I’m a lesbian?”
“I have no idea.” Liz frowned. “I haven’t told them. The opportunity never came up.”
“What about Dad?”
“Well, I don’t know. He knew about, well, you and Leigh. But when he found out you were pregnant—”
“It sort of confused the issue?”
“Sort of.” Liz set her coffee cup down. “Shann. About Corey’s father. You never said . . . what happened?”
A million answers churned inside Shann. She’d never talked about it. Not even to Aunt Millie. And never to Corey.
She remembered her father shouting, demanding the name of the man involved. But Shann had never told him, had never told anyone. Her stepmother Ruth had tried a quieter, woman-towoman approach. Her brother Pat, at home on holiday from his job in London, had offered to drag this excuse for a guy to the altar if that had been what Shann wanted. But she hadn’t, and that had been the problem that had ended in that last terrible fight with her father.
“It’s not important who Corey’s father is,” she said flatly and Liz reached across and clasped Shann’s hand.
“It might be to Corey,” she said softly.
Shann stood up and paced the length of the dining room. “I can’t . . . I don’t want to talk about it, Liz.”
“Oh, Shann.” Liz stood up, concerned. “I didn’t mean to upset you, love.”
“It’s all right. Don’t worry, Liz. Look, let me clear the table for you.” Shann picked up a plate just as the doorbell rang. She replaced the plate and waved Liz back into her chair. “Stay there and finish your coffee. I’ll go.”
Her long strides took her down the hallway into the foyer, and she reached out and swung open the door. Before her stood a tall slim woman with short fair hair and incredible green eyes. She wore faded blue jeans and a soft gray windcheater with a small black logo over one breast. Then the woman’s wide mouth lifted in a delighted smile.
“Shannon Delaney. It’s been a long time.”
Shann’s eyes moved over the woman again. She was incredibly attractive. How could Shann have forgotten her?
And then firm arms wrapped around Shann and she felt the thrust of breasts, of hips and thighs, as she was drawn into a close embrace.
Chapter Two
Long forgotten responses woke inside Shann as the warm body held her close. And those responses frightened. and yet excited her at the same time.
She wanted to step quickly away, break this confusing contact, put protective space between herself and this stranger. Stranger? It was obvious this woman was not unknown to her, and part of Shann recognized that she should know who she was. It only served to unsettle her even more.
The woman’s arms slowly released their hold, and she stepped away from Shann. Just as suddenly Shann wanted her back, yearned for the warmth again. It had been so long since she’d held a woman close to her, and her emotions seesawed wildly.
Shann drew a quick breath, tried to calm her erratic heartbeats. She had to say something. What would the other woman be thinking of her? She met the level green gaze again and she felt a warm flush wash her cheeks.
“You don’t remember me, do you?” asked a pure, liquid voice, and the green eyes crinkled at the corners, bright with amusement.
Those eyes. They were so familiar. Shann knew those eyes. A small frown gathered on her brow and then her mouth opened slightly in total dismay. “Angelina?” she said incredulously. “Angelina Callahan? My God! Angelina.”
“One and the same,” laughed the other woman delightedly. “All growed up.”
“All growed up all right,” Shann repeated, amazed. “I can’t believe it’s you. You must have been what, thirteen, when I saw you last?”
“Fourteen, nearly fifteen actually. But who’s counting?”
“She doesn’t mean it, Shann,” Angelina was saying earnestly. “You’ll see. She’ll get over it.” While Shann stood desperately looking after Leigh as she’d flounced away leaving Shann standing there with “You’ve broken my heart, Shann Delaney,” ringing so unfairly in her ears.
Shann blinked the memory away, and she was back in the present, ten years later. She became aware of Leigh’s young cousin watching her. “Wow!” she said, her eyes moving unconsciously over the other woman. Black boots, jean-clad legs, long long legs, the figure-molding gray sweatshirt that did little to hide the curve of her hips, the swell of her breasts. And that face. Could this beautiful woman be the shy, quiet, almost sorrowful young girl who was part of and yet not quite part of Shann’s youth? “You look,” she paused, “sensational.”
Their eyes met again, and Shann was conscious of a flicker of awareness. She felt the air between them shift just slightly, and her pulse rate picked up again.
“Thanks,” said Angelina softly. “You look pretty sensational yourself.”
Shann’s mouth went dry, and she swallowed convulsively, not knowing quite what to say now. Had she imagined that frisson of cognizance? Did the other woman feel it too? Was Angelina Callahan—?
Shann had a totally irrational urge to pull this beautiful woman back into her arms, move against her, cover her lips with her own. She almost recoiled in horror at her wayward thoughts. They were so uncharacteristic, so foreign to the cautious, steady person she’d become. It was too fast, too frightening.
“Who is it, Shann?” Liz walked into the foyer behind Shann.
Shann was never more relieved to see her sister. She stepped awkwardly aside.