Always and Forever

by Lyn Denison

  “Wow!” exclaimed Corey when they stepped inside. “This is as big as our flat in Sydney.”

  Shann laughed. “Just about.”

  “Is this my bunk?” Corey asked, dumping his backpack on the lower bed.

  “Sure.” Shann nodded and slid a quick look at Angie. She swallowed. “And that’s the bedroom.” She indicated the open door past Corey.

  Angie walked down the hall and looked into the bedroom.

  “I thought you might be more comfortable in the bed,” Shann continued. “I’m not sure you could stretch your legs out in the bunks.”

  Angie raised one dark eyebrow, and a small smile played around her mouth.

  Shann felt her cheeks warm.

  “Which side of the bed do you want?” Angie asked with a grin, stepping inside the bedroom.

  “Whichever.” Shann stopped in the doorway.

  Angie set her backpack beside the bed and turned to look at Shann. “It really has been a long week,” she repeated softly.

  “Angie, come and look,” said Corey. “It’s got a proper bathroom, too.”

  Angie laughed and walked back to the door, brushing past Shann as she went into the hallway.

  Shann’s stomach muscles clenched as her body reacted to Angie’s touch, and she drew a steadying breath. She had to wipe the silly smile off her face before she turned back to Corey and Angie.

  Shann’s show that evening was wonderfully well received, and she was kept busy afterward signing T-shirts, caps, programs, and to Corey’s amusement, the bulging biceps of a young man who was so obviously smitten. As the numbers of autograph hunters diminished Shann glanced up, looking for Angie, to see her talking to her friends, Alex and Jo.

  Shann greeted them with pleasure and introduced them to Corey. Alex and Jo congratulated Shann on her performance and as they set off to have a cup of coffee, Alex told Shann she’d taken some photographs of her performing and would print them up for her. It was after midnight before Shann, Angie, and Corey returned to their trailer.

  By then the temperature had dropped, and they stepped thankfully into the relative warmth of the trailer. Shann organized a sleepy Corey into the shower. She unfolded his sleeping bag, and she was suddenly warm at the thought of being with Angie again.

  Corey came out of the bathroom and dived into his sleeping bag. Shann zipped him up and bent under the top bunk to kiss him goodnight.

  “I’ve had the best time,” he said sleepily. “You were the greatest, Mum.”

  “Thank you, kind sir. See you in the morning,” Shann said.

  Angie insisted Shann take first turn in the bathroom, and she gathered a warm tracksuit to put on after her shower. When she returned Angie had zipped their sleeping bags together.

  “Hope you don’t mind,” she said a little uncertainly, and Shann laughed softly.

  “Not at all. I was hoping—” Shann watched as Angie swallowed.

  “Well, I’ll have my shower.”

  “Hurry back,” Shann said huskily. She snuggled into the sleeping bag, waiting in anticipation for Angie’s return.

  Soon Angie was back in the bedroom, quietly closing the door behind her. “You were right. Corey’s fast asleep already.” She crossed to the bed and slithered into the sleeping bag beside Shann. “Brrr. Pity it’s so cold.”

  “Let me warm you up.” Shann slid her arms around Angie, nestling her close.

  “I’ve been thinking about this moment for a week.” Angie laughed softly, her breath stirring Shann’s hair. “I have to kiss you now or I’ll go mad.” She put her cool lips on Shann’s.

  Shann slid her hands under Angie’s sweatshirt, murmuring appreciatively as her hands molded Angie’s breasts, and Angie arched against her, sliding her leg between Shann’s.

  “I feel like I’m going to explode,” Angie whispered and fumbled with Shann’s top, her questing hands finding Shann’s aroused nipples.

  Their lips met again, their kiss deepening, tongues tasting.

  “This is so deliciously restricting,” Angie said with a low chuckle, and Shann gave a soft laugh. “Oh, Shann.” Her fingers teased Shann’s nipples. “I kept thinking about this every night and at some very inappropriate times during the day. And now I’m so . . .” She drew a steadying breath. “If I don’t touch you soon I’ll explode.”

  She moved Shann onto her back and helped her pull the waistband of her sweatpants down. Then she gave a throaty moan as she slowly slid her fingers into the wetness of Shann’s center. Shann arched as Angie found her clitoris and when Angie’s mouth moved over her breast to tease one rosy peak, Shann strained against Angie’s hand. Her rhythm quickened, and Shann cascaded into her orgasm.

  “Angie,” she sighed brokenly, finding the softness of Angie’s lips again. “That was indescribable.”

  “Indescribable is what I aim for,” Angie said thickly, making Shann laugh softly.

  “And I think I’ll have to give you all night to stop doing that.”

  Shann moved slightly, her fingers brushing Angie’s breasts, her mouth replacing her fingers as Angie’s breath caught in her throat. Shann slipped her hands under the waistband of Angie’s track pants, moving slowly downward until her palm cupped the soft curls. Angie moaned into Shann’s mouth as Shann’s fingers stroked, teased, circled. Then Angie’s body tensed, and she fell into her release.

  They kissed gently, reverently, and Angie sighed, moving her weight from Shann’s body.

  “You have incredibly magic fingers, did you know that?” she said huskily, and pulled Shann against her.

  Shann felt the erotic nubs of Angie’s breasts slide over her own bare breasts and her fingers traced the curve of Angie’s firm buttocks. “I love the feel of your skin against mine. You feel divine.” She murmured low in her throat, and Angie shivered slightly. “You’re not cold, are you?”

  “I’m too cozy to be cold.” Angie laughed softly. “That shiver was a I’m-ready-to-have-you-ravish-me-again sort of quiver. In fact I’m more than warm enough to want to make love again.”

  “Quiver? Shiver? Ravish? You know you have the very best ideas,” Shann said against her lips.

  Eventually they fell asleep, and Shann woke with Angie still cuddled in the circle of her arms. She had her back to Shann, and Shann could feel the warmth of her smooth skin, the curve of her buttocks against her stomach. Their clothes were still in disarray and one of Shann’s hands cupped one of Angie’s full breasts, her other hand resting on Angie’s stomach.

  She drew in the clean fresh scent of Angie’s hair, and desire clutched at her again. She moved her hand down to mold the triangle of soft curls, and Angie stirred.

  “Mmmm. Is that a pipe in your pocket or are you just pleased to see me?” She asked with a credible Mae West accent as she turned into Shann’s arms.

  “Definitely not a pipe, but I do have an ache I know only you can take care of,” Shann whispered.

  The three of them spent the day enjoying the Muster and as Shann wasn’t performing that night, they huddled together on the hill overlooking the Main Stage, watching the show featuring some of Australia’s top country artists. As the temperature dropped Corey snuggled between them, and they wrapped themselves in a blanket until the end of the show. And later Shann and Angie slid into their sleeping bag and into each other’s arms.

  Reluctantly, Corey and Angie left late on Sunday afternoon so Corey could go to school next day and Angie to work. Shann stayed over till Monday morning as she had appointments with some of the artists interested in her songs as well as with a representative for a well-known record label. On Sunday night, wrapped in her sleeping bag, she missed Corey, and she missed the warmth, the nearness of Angie.

  “Angie’s home,” said Corey as they walked passed the Callahans on Monday afternoon after Shann had collected him from school. Angie’s green MG was parked in the Callahans’ driveway behind Ann’s small sedan.

  “She must have left work early.” Shann smiled as they turned into their drivew
ay. With a welcoming woof Tiger bounded up along the side of the house to Corey, lurching to put his paws on Corey’s shoulders, tongue licking his cheek.

  “Down, Tiger. Down!” Corey pushed the dog off his shoulders. “What are you doing over here in our yard, boy?” Corey rubbed his ears and then his tummy. “Sit, Tiger. Sit.”

  The dog put his rump on the ground.

  “Good dog.” Corey took hold of the dog’s collar. “We better put you back in your own yard.”

  As they started down the side of the house to the gate between the properties, Shann heard voices. She looked up toward the back deck, stopping in surprise when she saw Angie leaning on the railing, her face in profile. She didn’t seem to be taking part in the conversations on the deck but rested back against the veranda post, her arms folded across her chest. Liz must have visitors.

  “Angie.” Shann called her, and the other woman turned and paused before lifting her hand in a half wave. Her smile was only fleeting as well and Shann’s step faltered.

  Corey caught sight of Angie then, and he waved eagerly. “Hi, Angie! Watch this!” He settled the dog and said, “Sit, Tiger. Sit.”

  The dog bounced around and then sat, looking up at Corey, tongue out, mouth open, as though he was grinning.

  “Good dog,” Corey wrapped his arms around the dog and hugged him. “Did you see that, Angie?”

  Angie had turned to face them, her hands on the railing. “I saw it. It’s totally amazing.” She smiled at him.

  Ann Callahan appeared beside Angie and leaned over to smile at them. “That’s marvelous, Corey. You’re very clever.”

  “He’s really a smart dog, Mrs. Callahan,” Corey told her and started forward, the dog following.

  Shann also continued around the side of the house below where Angie and her aunt were standing. Perhaps Angie’s reticence had something to do with her aunt. Had Angie talked to Ann? Surely not if Ann was so forthcoming.

  They started up the back steps. Halfway up Shann realized Angie and Ann weren’t alone on the back deck. Liz and their father were sitting at the table with a man, a woman, and two children.

  Corey took hold of the dog’s collar again as he reached the top of the stairs. Shann had stopped, too, several steps behind Corey, and across the deck her gaze met oh-so-familiar light blue eyes.

  Chapter Twelve

  She had changed, had grown older. But then, Shann conceded, she had too, in the ten intervening years. Her fair hair with its darker streaks wasn’t as long as she used to wear it, for it barely touched her shoulders, and it was fashionably mussed. A small smile lifted the corners of her mouth as she held Shann’s gaze.

  A rush of memories flashed before Shann. Walking with her, hand in hand, into class in grade one. Playing beam with a tennis ball on the bearers beneath the second-story classrooms. Skipping rope together. Playing softball. And then their first kiss. That wonderful, exhilarating kiss that had felt so unbelievably right.

  Shann made herself continue up the stairs until she stood on the deck behind Corey. She rested her hands on his shoulders, needing the warmth, the reality of the present, needing to simply touch him.

  Liz stood up, smiling with studied nonchalance. “Shann. Corey. We have visitors. Evan and Leigh arrived from Melbourne this afternoon and they’ve just come over to see Dad.”

  Ann Callahan walked back to the table. “It’s Mike’s birthday tomorrow, and Leigh thought it would be fun to surprise him and be here on his birthday. He’s not expecting them until the end of the week so he’ll be over the moon when he comes home tonight.” She glanced at Shann. “But where’s my manners? Shann, of course you know Evan and Leigh, but these are my grandchildren. Antony’s a very grown-up seven and Michelle is almost six.”

  Leigh’s children were both fair-haired and blue-eyed, and Shann could see their resemblance to their mother, especially the little girl, who was a carbon copy of Shann’s memories of her mother.

  “Leigh and Evan and the children live in Cairns so we don’t see as much of them as we’d like,” Ann continued.

  And Shann felt sure Ann Callahan was just a little uncomfortable with the situation, but she was determined to get past it. Shann’s gaze went from the children to Leigh’s husband, Evan Radford.

  He sat beside his wife, an arm draped casually around her shoulder. Gone was the long blond hair, the wispy goatee, the tattered clothes that had been Evan Radford ten years ago. His hair had thinned, and it was clipped into a crew cut. He was clean-shaven and wore steel-rimmed glasses and his T-shirt bore a designer label on the sleeve. Liz had told Shann that Evan had made a lot of money designing a part for a harvesting machine of some description. He looked successful.

  “Leigh. Evan.” Ann Callahan was saying. “This clever young man is Shann’s son, Corey.”

  Corey walked across and held out his hand to Evan. “Nice to meet you.”

  Evan looked a little taken aback, but he shook hands with Shann’s son.

  Corey then shook hands with Leigh as she held out her hand to him.

  Not to be outdone Tiger loped across and put his paws on Evan’s knee, giving a happy, doggy woof.

  “Sit, Tiger. Sit,” commanded Corey, and the dog obeyed.

  “Did you see that, Dad?” said Antony. He slid off his chair and came around to face Corey. “How did you teach him to do that?”

  Corey shrugged. “I got this book from the library about training dogs.”

  “Isn’t that marvelous, Evan?” asked Ann. “And it’s only taken Corey a short time to teach the dog that.”

  “Maybe there’s hope for the mutt after all,” Evan remarked with little interest.

  Shann shoved her hands in the back pockets of her jeans and out of the corner of her eye she saw Angie move slightly. She turned to look at her, but Angie was intent on inspecting a loose thread on the embroidered nametag on the pocket of her work shirt. Her face had a closed expression and although Shann willed her to look up, she didn’t meet Shann’s gaze.

  “Liz was telling us you’re a famous songwriter now,” Leigh said, and Shann made herself look back at the other woman.

  “Not exactly famous, but I’ve had some success recently,” Shann told her disconcertedly, feeling the unsettling weight of the whole situation pressing heavily upon her.

  Liz gave an exclamation of disbelief. “Honestly, Shann! Don’t be so modest. She’s doing exceptionally well. Some of Australia’s top recording artists are performing Shann’s songs on their albums.”

  “Mum is famous,” Corey reiterated. He reeled off some of the artists who were singing his mother’s songs.

  Evan Radford looked bored. “I can’t say I’ve heard of any of them.”

  “They’re modern country music artists,” Shann told him, and he shrugged.

  “That accounts for it. I don’t care for the country twang. I prefer blues or jazz myself.”

  “Shann performed at the Gympie Muster last week,” Liz added and, as if on cue, Corey drew a dog-eared booklet from his pocket.

  “I was showing this to my friends at school today.” He walked around and held up the Muster program.

  Evan barely glanced at it, but Leigh took it from Corey. He looked over Leigh’s shoulder as she spread it out on the tabletop. Corey pointed to the studio photo of Shann.

  It was a full-length shot, and she was standing almost side on to the camera, looking back into the lens. Her guitar stood beside her, and she had both hands resting on the top of it. Her dark jeans accentuated the length of her long legs, and the red shirt she was wearing showed off more of Shann’s cleavage than she was comfortable with. On her head was her trademark dark Akubra hat, set at a jaunty angle, and she was half smiling at the camera.

  “See, I told you,” said Corey, pointing to the photo. “Mum looks great, doesn’t she?”

  “It is a great shot,” Leigh said, looking up at Shann with the smile Shann remembered so well.

  Shann shifted from one foot to the other. “I think there
was some airbrushing involved,” she quipped.

  “It says,” read Corey, “well-known newcomer, performer and songwriter, Shann Delaney, will make her first appearance at the Muster with three shows. Shann is the writer of the popular theme from the television hit The Kelly Boys which has been nominated in three categories in the upcoming Golden Guitar Awards which will be held over the Australia Day week at Tamworth.”

  “Corey!” Shann admonished her son lightly. “No need to read the entire promo.”

  Liz laughed. “Didn’t I tell you she was far too modest?”

  Leigh smiled across at Shann. “You should just enjoy your success, Shann.”

  “From what I’ve seen in the music industry you might as well enjoy it while you have the chance,” Evan put in disinterestedly. “Singers seem to fade away as quickly as they rise.”

  Shann stiffened, unconsciously drawing herself up to her full height. Evan was still sitting at the table and, standing, Shann was at an advantage. She gave him a level look. “My success didn’t come overnight,” she said evenly. “It’s taken me ten years of hard work to build up my name in the industry.”

  Corey reached out and took his treasured program. He moved around beside his mother. “And Mum’s very talented,” he said solemnly, giving Evan Radford a measured look, his young face set.

  Angie walked over and squeezed Corey’s shoulder. “Shann’s shows at the Muster were packed and she was amazing. But then again, Corey, I can’t say I’m surprised your mother’s been so successful. I used to listen to her singing and playing her guitar all the time when we were younger, and I knew back then she was tops.” She moved her hand from Corey’s shoulder to Shann’s and Shann could feel the warmth of her fingers. “I’d listen to her playing every afternoon, and I thought she was pretty fantastic.”

  “Right,” said Corey. “She is fantastic.”

  Shann saw Leigh’s gaze go from Angie’s hand resting on Shann’s shoulder to Angie’s face then back to Shann, and one of her dark eyebrows rose slightly.

  “So you all went to the Muster?” Leigh asked, and Corey nodded.