by Sarah Morgan
“It doesn’t even matter.” She cleaned the knife carefully. “It’s over.”
And she felt battered and bruised even though it hadn’t actually happened yet.
Julia was frowning. “Flora, this is the first guy you have liked in a long time. Message him.”
“If he wanted to get in touch, he would.”
Julia thumped the bucket down. “I can’t believe he hasn’t at least called you. Men are spineless.”
“He’s not spineless. He is putting his kids first, which makes him a good dad.” Both the kids were probably now in therapy, thanks to her tactless intervention.
Her phone beeped. She fumbled in her and her heart performed acrobatics as she read the message. “It’s Jack. He wants us to meet in the park at lunchtime.”
“There you go. Great news.”
It wasn’t great news. It meant face-to-face rejection, rather than being dumped by phone or text.
The mere thought of what was to come made her hyperventilate.
How should she handle it?
The answer came to her in a flash. She’d end it with him, sparing them both the pain of meeting face-to-face and pretending everything was fine.
She’d call him right now, and she wouldn’t think about little Molly, with her pale face and faltering smile. Jack would never know that she was possibly in love with him, or that she’d had silly dreams about becoming part of his family.
She called his number, but he didn’t pick up. He was probably already on his way to meet her, determined to do the right thing.
Left with no choice, she headed to the park.
Braced for this to be their final conversation, she was startled when he swept her up and kissed her under the falling blossom. His mouth, his breath, his words all mingled with hers as he guided her back into the sheltered shade of the cherry tree with strong hands and an unmistakable sense of purpose. She felt the roughness of the bark against her back and the hardness of his body pressing against hers. She closed her eyes and there was nothing but scent and sensation, an almost agonizing thrill that she’d never felt before. She melted under the skilled stroke of his tongue, and the knowing brush of his fingers. Her tummy clenched and her blood raced and she felt a thudding disappointment that their intimacy had never extended beyond erotic kisses. He kissed her with such ravenous hunger and frantic desperation, she assumed it had to be a prelude to goodbye.
She was going to be the one to say it first. But not right now. In a moment. It would be criminal to cut short a kiss this good.
“I missed you.” He kissed his way from her mouth to her jaw, and from there to the delicate point where her neck met her shoulder. “And I owe you an apology.”
She was struggling to think let alone talk. “Mmm?”
“For not getting in touch. I had a crisis at work, and then I had a parent teacher conference at school because Molly isn’t doing so well, and between one thing and another time vanished.” He dragged his gaze from her mouth to her eyes. “Single parent issues. I’m trying to be Mom and Dad.”
“I understand. And I think you’re doing an incredible job.” And she had to end it right now before she fell any deeper.
“I’m not so sure. I forgot to take Dizzy the giraffe when we went the store yesterday. I underestimated the role he plays in each shopping expedition. I bought a brand of yogurt that apparently everyone but me knows is ‘yucky,’ and I left Molly’s drink at home so I grabbed something from the shelf that I was later told had so much sugar in it her teeth will probably fall out by Friday.” He kept his arms round her. “And then there was the conversation. I wasn’t expecting to have to answer a question about where babies come from in the baked goods aisle.”
“She asked? Oh that’s adorable.” End it, Flora! Just end it.
“In a very loud voice. She saw a baby in a stroller. I tried telling her that the baby had come from the car just outside, but she didn’t buy it. She wanted to know its entire life history from conception to birth.”
Flora could picture Molly, wide-eyed, and Jack, stumbling and fumbling. Even in her current state of stress, the thought of it amused her.
“I assume you do know where babies come from?” They were breaking up and she was flirting? She was treating this like a final fun date. Was she a masochist?
“I have a vague clue, although I confess that the sexual frustration I’ve suffered lately may have caused a degree of brain damage. In the end I gave her a very brief and basic explanation, based on advice given by a bunch of articles I found on the internet when I was searching on my phone while loading the cart with bagels. Again, the wrong ones because apparently we don’t eat whole wheat. In case you didn’t already know, there are a lot of ‘yucky’ foods on sale out there. I had no idea she was so fussy, but I didn’t used to do the shopping. And she’s having such a rough time I don’t want to take a stand over things like food.”
“You said she was having problems at school. Has something specific happened?” She promised herself that she’d end it just as soon as she’d had an update on his daughter.
He hesitated. “Nothing. Don’t worry. It’s not your problem.”
He was right. It wasn’t her problem.
End it, Flora, end it.
“We’re friends, Jack. Friends share the things that worry them.” It wasn’t strictly true. She rarely shared what worried her, but this wasn’t about her. Right now there was a little girl hurting the way she had once hurt. “Tell me about Molly.” She tugged him across the grass to the nearest empty bench.
He stretched out his legs. “Molly’s always been a talker. Confident. Outgoing. The problem was getting her to listen, not getting her to speak, but now she rarely speaks in class. Since Becca died, she’s been withdrawn and quiet. The night you visited, I barely recognized her. The old Molly would have been chatting about everything, showing you her toys, demanding that you watch her dance. She loved to dance.”
Flora’s heart ached for her. “Her world has changed, and she hasn’t yet changed with it. But she’ll dance again one day, I’m sure of it.”
“Were you the same?”
“Changed? Of course. Nothing in my life stayed the same.” She didn’t usually talk about it, but if her experience could help Molly in some small way then she was willing to do so. And they were about to break up anyway so there didn’t seem much point in guarding her words or trying to protect herself. “I didn’t only lose my mother, I lost my home and the world I knew. It will take time for Molly to adjust to her new normal. I expect her emotions are all over the place.” And she’d probably made it worse.
“I’ve noticed that occasionally she’ll laugh at something and then she immediately stops and looks horrified. It’s as if she thinks she’s not allowed to have fun anymore.”
Flora understood that. “You feel guilty. Disloyal. And you’re afraid that if you laugh, it might appear that you loved the person less.”
“Can you remember when you started to feel like your old self?”
This conversation was becoming more personal than she’d intended.
“No one stays the same throughout their life. We’re all changed and formed by the things that happen to us and to the people we love. And people carry on, even when they’re wounded.” As, no doubt, she was about to prove yet again.
“Did it get easier?” He shifted on the seat so he could see her face properly. “And don’t sugarcoat it. I genuinely want to know. It’s been a year. I need to figure out what I can do to help Molly.”
Molly. She’d finish the conversation about Molly and then she’d end it.
“If anything the second year was harder than the first for me. Everyone else had moved on. People forgot. But I didn’t. The reminders were constant. Every time there was a parent teacher evening, every time my friends moaned about their parents.” Thinking about it ripped her open. Why was she doing this to herself?
Molly. She was doing it for Molly.
“Did anything
help?”
“A teacher at my school suggested I write down everything I could remember about my mother. That turned out to be comforting.”
“That’s a good idea. I’ll try that.” He stood up and held out his hand. “Let’s walk. What sort of person were you back then? How did you change?”
“I became anxious.” She strolled with him along the path, trying not to think that this might be the last time. “I was wrenched away from everything I knew, and I found it hard to find any comfort or sense of safety in my new life. All I wanted was my mom. I felt very insecure.”
“Makes sense. You’d seen everything disappear. You couldn’t trust in the permanence of anything.”
“Exactly.”
“And your aunt made you feel like an outsider.” His hand tightened on hers. “And yet you handled it, and you’ve grown into this great person—” he stopped walking and pulled her toward him “—and that makes me a little less worried for my girls.”
Flora wasn’t sure she should be a source of inspiration to anyone. She often thought her life was a total mess.
On the other hand she had handled it. And it was true that she had major insecurities, but she was handling those, too. Normally she was guarded, but she’d just told him things she hadn’t told anyone before and was still in one piece.
“How is Izzy doing?”
“She’s really stepped up. I’m proud of her. I worry about her, of course, but I’m assuming a few ups and downs are natural and on the whole she’s coping remarkably well. You saw her the other night—she has it all sorted.”
Flora didn’t think she had anything sorted. “Was she always helpful around the home?”
“No. Typical teenager I suppose. Mostly focused on herself. Becca had a thing about mess. She liked everything to be neat and tidy, and Izzy was never tidy so there were a few explosions about that. But now she’s my superstar. I couldn’t manage without her. And she has so much patience with her sister.” He tugged her out of the path of a mother jogging with a stroller. “Izzy was especially close to her mother, so it’s hard for her, but you’d never know it.”
She’d known.
Flora thought about the tension in those hands as they’d cleaned up ketchup.
She wanted to ask if she’d made things harder by visiting, but she already knew the answer to that one. “It must be hard for all of you, but your girls will be okay because they have each other and they have you. Molly is probably feeling insecure, but you are so good with her, so present and so is Izzy, that the feeling will fade in time. And she still has her home, her school and her friends. She’s going to be okay, I’m sure she is. So is Izzy. It helps that you’re so willing to talk about it.”
“Does it help you to talk about it?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never talked about it before.” She saw the shock in his face.
“Never?”
“No.” These were intimate, private details and she’d never been close enough to anyone to contemplate sharing.
“You can talk to me.” He pulled her against him. “Anytime.”
How was she going to do that when they were about to break up?
She stayed with her head resting against his chest for a moment, just a moment. Finally, when she was confident she wasn’t going to bawl like a baby with a bad attack of colic, she eased away from him. “What about you, Jack? How are you doing?” He’d listened to her, so it was only fair she did the same for him.
“Me? I’m fine.”
“You can’t be fine, Jack.”
He took a deep breath. “I’m handling it. It’s the girls I worry about.”
Maybe he just didn’t want to talk about himself.
She tried not to feel hurt that he wouldn’t share his feelings with her.
“Jack—”
“And now I’m feeling guilty.” He tightened his grip on her hand. “I haven’t seen you in days and all I’ve done is talk about the children.”
It felt to Flora as if all they’d done was talk about her, and the combination of truth and trust had created a new intimacy between them. An unwanted intimacy, given the circumstances.
And she couldn’t stand the waiting any longer. “Look, Jack, I appreciate you meeting me. It’s brave of you to do this in person.”
“Do what in person?” His fingers were in her hair. His mouth brushed the corner of hers, his lips teasing and lingering.
She closed her eyes.
Maybe she could allow herself one more kiss. Just one.
“End it. Face-to-face.”
He lifted his head abruptly. “End it? Why would you think I’m going to end it?”
She reeled slightly. Opened her eyes. “Aren’t you?”
“No!”
“Jack, we both know the evening didn’t go that well. And I’m not taking it personally. Introducing another woman to your children is a really big deal. I don’t blame you for thinking it’s all too much.” Her own feelings rose inside her and she pushed them down. “I guess the timing was all wrong.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He lifted her chin with his fingers. “The kids loved you. You were a hit. The evening went well.”
It had been one of the most uncomfortable evenings of her life.
“I—I thought Izzy was a little—” How should she put it tactfully? “It was a big deal having me in the house.”
“It was a big deal, yes. It came as a shock to her when I mentioned that you were coming, but that’s not surprising in the circumstances. I was a bit concerned about how she’d handle it, but she seemed fine about it.” He frowned, searching his memory. “Did Izzy say something to you? Something I missed?”
“No.”
“Then why would you think she had a problem with you? She was polite.”
“Yes.”
Flora thought about the looks, and the questions. The subtle comments. Had he really not noticed? “She seemed a little tense.”
“Teenagers are almost always tense about something. Work. Friends. The planet. Life in general. They are a seething mass of hormones on a good day. And then she’s dealing with this, too. She misses her mother. That’s all you were seeing. Kids are always wary when they meet someone new, and this was never going to be easy. But I understand why you’d be wary. You felt unwelcome at your aunt’s, and you’re assuming you’re unwelcome now.”
The fact that he knew that much about her was scary but also refreshing and a little thrilling.
It seemed he wasn’t suggesting they break up.
So now what?
Should she go through with her plan and end it now? What if they carried on and broke up in a few months when she’d fallen even harder for him? For the first time in her life, she felt a true connection with someone and presumably that connection would only grow deeper.
On the other hand, there was still the children.
“Oh I forgot—” Jack reached into his pocket and pulled out a sheet of paper. “This is for you.”
“Me?” She unfolded it and swallowed. “It’s the picture I drew for Molly.”
“She colored it. Spent ages on it, trying to make it as good as possible. It felt like progress actually. She hasn’t picked up a coloring pencil since her mom died. Anyway, she wanted you to have it.”
“She—me?”
“Yes. I don’t know how I could have forgotten. I’ve been carrying it around for days. She wanted you to have it and put it on your wall.”
Molly had thought about her. Molly had given her a picture. Molly wanted her to put it on her wall.
Her throat felt thick. Emotion filled her chest. She felt light-headed and realized she was breathing too fast.
“I love it.” It was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen. Yes, the coloring was outside the lines, but who cared? Molly. “I’m definitely going to put it on my wall. I’m going to frame it.”
He smiled. “You don’t need to frame it, Flora.”
“I do. Knowing that she c
olored it for me means so much.” It was a little freaky to admit just how much but perhaps he guessed because he pulled her close.
“The other night was an ordeal for you, wasn’t it? You’re the one who probably wants to end it because this situation is so complicated and messy.”
“End it?” She was croaky. “What makes you think I want to end it?” She held the picture away from him so he didn’t crumple it more than he had already. She’d iron it before she framed it.
“Ours will never be a simple relationship. And maybe I should let you go, but I’m not that selfless.”
“Good.” Her insides flipped over as she thought what might have happened if she’d spoken up sooner. “I wouldn’t know what to do with a simple relationship. Give me an emotional mess any day.”
He made a sound that was half laugh, half groan. “I don’t want this to stop, Flora.” He cupped her face in his hands. “Being with you makes me smile, and I didn’t think I’d ever want to smile again. You make me happy. I like to think I make you happy, too.”
“You do.” It was the happiest she’d ever been in her life. Her thoughts floated to a place she’d never allowed them to go before. Surely, feeling this way, there was no problem that together they couldn’t overcome?
Molly had colored in the picture. Molly wanted her to hang it on her wall.
And now the only thought in her head was We’ll make this work. Somehow, we’ll make this work.
True, there was still Izzy to worry about but a teenager was bound to be more complex than a younger child and no one built a relationship in one meeting. It was going to take time, and Flora was willing to put in whatever time was necessary.
Jack didn’t seem to think there was a problem, and he knew his own child better than she did. Didn’t he?
6
Izzy
“She’s late.” Izzy checked the soufflé. It had been her mother’s dinner party showpiece and it was Molly’s favorite, but it wasn’t a dish that forgave late arrivals. Why had she picked something so complicated? Because hopefully soufflé was something the saintly Flora couldn’t cook. Intimidation by soufflé. “What time did you tell her?”