Older Man

by Bright, Laurey;

  He hesitated, then nodded. “Yes, you're right. But I think we should go back to the others."

  She smiled at him almost as she would have smiled at Toby or Ellen. “All right,” she said. “If that's what you think best."

  It was some time later that a series of high-pitched giggles from outside penetrated to the house. Marian looked out the window and said, “Toby and Alan are having a great time out there. Oops! Toby nearly missed the ladder, but he's okay."

  As she turned back into the room, Grant got up idly and went to the window. He smiled, then began to frown, and after a few seconds abruptly swung round and went striding toward the door.

  Rennie broke off her conversation with one of her brother's friends who had called in after lunch, and hurried after him. By the time she got outside, he was racing across the lawn.

  Toby was lying on the grass a few yards from the tree hut, while Alan regarded him owlishly from a perch on the ladder.

  "Did he fall?” Rennie gasped as she joined Grant, who was feeling Toby's forehead. The boy's eyes were open, but looked peculiarly unfocused, and he was very flushed.

  "No. Yes,” Grant said. “He got down the ladder and started walking, but he walked very oddly—and then he just fell over. How do you feel, son?” he asked Toby.

  The little boy blinked and said, “F-f-funny."

  "What kind of funny?” Rennie asked anxiously.

  "Jusht funny,” Toby said, and giggled.

  "I feel funny, too,” his young friend announced. “Can you help me get down?” he added plaintively.

  "You're big enough to get down on your own,” Grant said, barely throwing him a glance. “Toby, do you hurt anywhere?"

  Toby's head slowly moved from side to side.

  "Well, can you get up, then?” Grant put his hand under his son's shoulders and brought him to his feet. “Okay?"

  Toby nodded his head and suddenly clutched at Grant's sleeve. “Daddy, I c-can't walk."

  Grant went totally white. Rennie darted from his side, just in time to catch Alan, who missed the last few rungs of the ladder and collapsed against her as she broke his fall.

  "Both of them?” Grant said, turning a stunned and desperately worried face to her.

  "Apparently,” Rennie agreed. She set Alan on his feet, and he subsided immediately to a sitting position on the ground, grinning foolishly at her. “Just a minute,” she told Grant, and grasped the ladder, quickly ascending it to disappear into the tree hut.

  "Rennie, we haven't time to—” he shouted at her, gathering Toby up in his arms.

  But she had already reappeared in the doorway. “Look,” she called to him.

  He looked at the two bottles she held, both of them half empty, and the colour slowly returned to his face. “Not pop,” he said. “Wine. Champagne-style, no less. The little devils!"

  "Yes,” Rennie said, grinning. “Aren't they? Thoroughly drunk little devils!"

  "Daddy?” Toby said. “Are you angry?"

  Grant hastily wiped an answering grin from his face. He put Toby carefully on his swaying feet, holding his shoulders and squatting to his level. “I told you the wine was for the grown-ups, didn't I?"

  Toby nodded. “I think I'm going to be sick."

  Grant said, “I'm not surprised. Too much alcohol is bad for people, especially children. Now you know why I didn't want you to have it."

  Toby nodded vigorously, and then threw up. Grant moved his feet in their polished shoes out of the way just in time and held his son's head until it was over. Alan looked on with interest, and shortly afterward followed suit.

  "I'd better tell his parents,” Rennie said. “Come on, my lad."

  "Do we have to tell?” Alan whined, reluctantly accepting her guiding hand, as Grant wiped Toby's mouth with a handkerchief.

  "Yes, because you might be sick again, and they need to know why."

  "I won't be sick again,” Alan declared, and promptly proved himself wrong.

  By the time he was finished, his mother had come flying out of the house, and Rennie explained what had happened.

  "I don't think they've had enough for it to be dangerous,” she said. “But you'd better watch him, in case."

  "Thank goodness it was nothing worse,” the woman said. “And thanks for looking after him. We'd better take him home. Do you mind holding the fort while I round up the rest of the family? Now, Alan, you stay here a minute. I don't want you messing up Auntie Marian's carpets. Honestly, I can't take you anywhere!"

  She was back in a few minutes, as Grant and Toby joined Rennie. “I'm sorry if my son led your boy into mischief,” she told Grant. “I thought my husband was keeping an eye on him. You can't leave him alone for a minute!"

  "Not at all,” Grant assured her. “In fact, I'm grateful."

  His eyes met Rennie's in a look of pure understanding as the harassed mother stared in complete noncomprehension.

  "It's a long story,” Rennie said, taking pity on her. “But sometimes a total lack of mischief can worry parents, too."

  "Oh, yes?” the woman said in polite disbelief. “Tell me about it!” But she didn't wait for an explanation, ushering her erring son before her round to the front of the house.

  "We'd better be going, too,” Grant said, as he and a pale, subdued Toby joined Rennie. “I'll take Toby out to the car now, and come back for Ellen."

  Rennie wanted to offer to come with them, but knew he wouldn't let her. He had vetoed her suggestion that she should look after the children while he took his mother out for her customary Christmas dinner. Mrs Morrison understood, he told her, that he had to be with the children. And Rennie should spend Christmas with her parents.

  "Shane tells me you've both been invited to a party tomorrow night,” he added. “You didn't mention it."

  "I don't care if I don't go."

  "You haven't had much social life since you've been working for me. Go to your party and enjoy yourself. And you needn't come back the day after. I don't have to go to the office until after New Year. We can cope."

  "I know Ellen's much more independent of me than she was, but don't you think ten days is too long a break, so soon?"

  "Your family must be missing you, and I'm well aware that you've seen almost nothing of your friends lately."

  "I think,” she told him roundly, “that this sudden change of plan is for another reason entirely."

  He looked away from her, his gaze absently resting on the house behind her, then returning to her face. There was a bleakness in his eyes that made her want to put her arms around him, but at the same time warned her off. He said quietly, “Don't push it, Rennie."

  "All right,” she said as he turned away. “But promise me one thing."

  Reluctantly, he turned to face her again, his expression impatient.

  "Promise,” she said, “that you'll call me if Ellen's fretting. Or Toby."

  He nodded. “Yes. Yes, the children must come first. Don't worry, I will."

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Grant called three days after Christmas.

  "Ellen?” Rennie queried. “Is she all right?"

  "She's fine. Beginning to miss you but she isn't fussing about it. Something's come up, though."

  "What?” Rennie asked sharply.

  "It's okay. Nothing bad. A friend of my mother's has a beach house in Northland. It was booked for the holidays, of course, but the family that was supposed to have it for five days over New Year has cancelled. My mother suggested that we take it—it's a big house and there's a downstairs room with its own bathroom where she could be away from the children. And three bedrooms upstairs, one with bunks."

  "It sounds ideal."

  "Yes. I'd like to get away from here for a few days. Also it's a chance to wean the children away from this place. Make it a bit easier for me to move them to another house later on. And they're dead keen."

  "Ellen is?"

  "Yes, even Ellen is.” He paused. “On condition that you come with us."

&nbs
p; "Of course I'll come,” Rennie said immediately. “If that's what you're asking me."

  "Yes, I am. Um—my mother thinks you should come, too. I don't think she trusts my expertise with children, she's afraid that she'll have to look after them if there isn't another female on the premises."

  "She won't have to do a thing,” Rennie promised. “Tell her I'll take care of everything."

  She danced toward her room, hugging herself. Marian, coming out of the kitchen, smiled at her with raised brows. “Good news?"

  "Great news!” Rennie told her. “We're having a holiday by the beach—Grant and the children and me. Oh, and his mother. We leave tomorrow morning."

  "You'll be well chaperoned, by the sound of it,” Marian commented.

  "Yes, I will.” Rennie laughed. “I expect that's why he didn't mind asking me. I guess his mother's supposed to protect him."

  "Rennie!” Marian followed her into the bedroom. “What are you up to?"

  Rennie sat down on the dressing table stool, smiling. “Nothing,” she said innocently. “But I think I may be in love!"

  Marian came over and put a hand on her shoulder. “Rennie, darling,” she said gently. “Do you know what you're doing?"

  "Yes. Well, maybe not entirely. I've never felt quite like this before. But oh, isn't it great?” She turned and put her arms about Marian's waist.

  Looking down at her, Marian stroked her hair. “Yes,” she said. “Of course it is. Only remember what I said about not rushing into anything. Do you know how Grant feels about things?"

  "He thinks he's too old for me."

  "He could be right, you know. He'd be closer to my age than yours."

  Rennie lifted her head. “What does that matter? I don't care!"

  "No, darling, but maybe he does. It might not be just that he's too old for you. Perhaps he also feels that you're too young for him."

  Rennie's eyes clouded. “Not when he kisses me,” she said defiantly.

  "Has he kissed you often?"

  Rennie shook her head. “He thinks he shouldn't. But when he does, I know how he feels."

  Her mother said, “I know it isn't fashionable to say so, but men are different from us, Rennie. Whether it's biological or cultural isn't really an issue here. They can make love where they don't love much more easily than most women. And if you force or manipulate Grant into that situation, you could be doing yourself more harm than good. You do understand what I'm saying?"

  "Yes.” Rennie sighed. “I hear you. But it doesn't make any difference to my feelings."

  "I know. Just think about what you're doing though, before you do it, hmm? You've got an excellent mind under that flaming hair, in very good working order. It doesn't have to go into neutral every time your emotions are engaged."

  Ellen came running to meet her when she arrived, with Toby not far behind. Putting Ellen down, she held her arms out for the boy. “Am I allowed a hug today?"

  He smiled and flung his arms about her, mussing her hair. Grant came out of the lounge and stood in the doorway. She felt unaccountably shy with him, and fussed over the children to hide it. “It's nice to have you back,” he said, standing aside as they pulled her into the lounge.

  "It's nice to be back.” She looked at him and wanted to go on looking, and he too seemed to be having trouble dragging his gaze from hers, seemed to be drinking in the sight of her as though he couldn't get enough of it. But Toby and Ellen were talking, and she smiled down at them, scarcely hearing what they said.

  "Hey, calm down, you two!” Grant ordered. “You'll give Rennie a headache, both talking at once."

  There was a momentary silence while the children turned to look at him. Then they began to chatter again. Grant raised his eyes, and Rennie laughed. “It's better, though, isn't it?” she asked him softly. These two cheerful, talkative children were worlds apart from the solemn, worried boy and the tearful, frightened little girl they had been only weeks before.

  Grant's mother was a small, precise lady with white-winged brown hair, who sat in the front seat of the car clutching a handbag which contained several bottles of pills and, among other mysterious objects and papers that made it bulge prodigiously, a gold powder compact with a mirror in the lid, that fascinated Ellen. Introduced to Rennie, she had given her a slight, gracious smile and a kindly, “How do you do, my dear?"

  Rennie wondered if she ought to curtsey.

  She sat in the back with the two children, mindful of her responsibility to keep them amused and reasonably quiet.

  At first it was easy. As the car travelled over the high curve of the Harbour Bridge, they pointed out to each other the yachts and launches busily darning the water below, and at Albany they were intrigued when Grant had to stop at a set of traffic lights to let a group of horses and riders cross the motorway.

  "Is it a pedestrian crossing for horses?” Toby asked.

  "That's right,” Grant answered over his shoulder. “An equestrian crossing. There are a lot of pony club riders here, most of them children, and the local people insisted when the road was put in that there must be a safe place for them to cross."

  Some time after that, Ellen began wriggling uncomfortably and whispered in Rennie's ear.

  Rennie said, “Grant, we need a comfort stop soon."

  "And I would like a cup of tea,” Mrs Morrison announced. “I know a very nice restaurant at Orewa."

  The car descended a steep hill, went over a bridge where several people were fishing from the sides, and entered the township, strung out along the shoreline.

  "I want to go to the beach!” Toby said excitedly, glimpsing the blue water separated from the road by a strip of grassed reserve. “And play on that!” he added, seeing a group of children scrambling about a large, undulating wooden climbing frame. “And the slide!"

  "There's a beach where we're going,” Grant reminded him. “And we can't spend too much time here. We've a long way to go."

  Toby looked disappointed. Rennie said, “Why don't you and your mother have some morning tea while I look after the children? I'd quite enjoy a short walk on the beach, myself."

  Grant looked relieved, and his mother gave her an approving smile. Rennie let the children have their heads, scrambling about the play equipment and running along the sand shouting to each other. The beach was long and wide, and even the houses and motels crowded along most of its length couldn't spoil its beauty.

  Grant had bought them cold drinks and a bag of potato chips, and having had a chance to stretch their legs, the children were content for some time. At Kaiwaka he drew up at a shop advertising Dutch-style cheese. “We could buy some to eat over the weekend,” he suggested.

  The children, intrigued by the huge cheeses on shelves behind the counter, and the opportunity to taste, helped him to choose three from which the Dutch proprietor cut large wedges. Grant bought some exotic sausages, too. On the way back to the car he said, “Kaiwaka's aptly named."

  "What's aptly?” Toby asked.

  "Suitably,” Rennie explained. “It means it has the right name. Kai waka means ‘the food canoe'."

  "You know Maori?” Grant asked.

  Rennie shook her head. “Very little. A few common words like that. I'd like to, though. We did a little bit at school. I've always meant to learn it properly."

  "Me, too. Like most people, I haven't got around to it."

  Apparently inspired by the sight and discussion of food, Ellen said, “I'm hungry."

  Grant glanced at his watch. “We could buy some sandwiches at the take-away over there and have a picnic a little further on."

  They had it at a wooden table set in the shade of black-barked kahikatea and dainty small-leaved kowhai on a grassed space off the road. A tui called throatily from the trees, and the sound of rushing water in a nearby stream alternated with the sound of traffic passing on the road. Mrs Morrison produced a thermos flask of tea which she offered to share with Grant and Rennie, but they declined, settling for canned drinks instead. Renni
e tried to keep her attention on the children, helping them with their meal, and Grant seemed to be concentrating on his mother with equal determination.

  The children found a path going towards the water, and Rennie got up to go after them as they disappeared into the trees. Grant followed within seconds.

  "I'll look after them,” Rennie said. “You stay with your mother."

  "My mother's fine,” he answered. “Watch out!” The path was muddy, and he shot out a hand to steady her as her shoes slipped on the soft ground.

  She straightened and moved rapidly ahead of him. The children had disappeared round a curve, and she called, “Toby! Ellen! Wait!"

  She caught up with them before they reached the broad, stony stream, and took their hands as they approached the water. Grant accompanied them, and watched while the children bent to dabble their fingers, exclaiming at the cold. The water flowed fast and was overshadowed by trees. Ferns layered the bank opposite, and slim mottled trees dipped their branches almost into the water.

  Toby said, “Look—stepping stones.” He raced off to try them, and Grant went striding after him, while Rennie and Ellen followed more slowly.

  Toby was already on the second stone, gauging the distance to the next one. Grant glanced at Rennie and put his foot on the first stone.

  There were eight of them, and Toby successfully negotiated the lot to scamper up a narrow path on the other side as Grant reached the bank behind him.

  "I want to go, too,” Ellen said.

  Her legs were not as long as her brother's and Rennie had to help her, since she refused to be carried. Standing on one flat square and trying to swing Ellen over to her from the previous one was no easy task. On the very last one, Rennie lost her balance, let out a gasping cry and landed awkwardly in the water, soaking her jeans.

  Ellen, safely ensconced on the stepping stone, regarded her solemnly and said, “You splashed me, Rennie."

  Grant's voice said urgently, “Are you hurt?” He'd come racing back down the path with Toby on his heels. Regardless of his shoes and trousers, he waded in and as Rennie started to scramble up, put a hand on her arm to help.