Second Chance Lane

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Second Chance Lane Page 11

by Nicola Marsh


  Jane couldn’t wait to get their ideas down on paper. ‘I’ll start work on this tonight. It’ll take me a day or two to input our preliminary ideas into the software I use, so maybe you can pop over Monday evening and take a look?’

  ‘Great,’ he said, glancing at his watch. ‘I actually have to run.’

  ‘Hot date?’ The words popped out before Jane could censor them and she wanted to crawl under the table.

  ‘No.’ His mouth quirked into a roguish smile. ‘Besides, I’ve just had that.’

  Flustered, Jane searched for something witty to say and came up blank, but was saved when he took pity on her and stood. However, her relief was short-lived when he held out his hand. It would appear churlish to refuse so she placed her hand in his, liking the curl of his fingers over hers way too much.

  ‘Why don’t I cook us dinner when you come over?’

  When he squeezed her hand, she hurried on: ‘I mean, it makes sense. I’ll be busy finessing our ideas for the next few days and you’ll be running around sourcing contractors and the rest, so that only leaves us the evening to work. And it’s only fair, after you paid for dinner tonight.’

  ‘That sounds good,’ he said, and she practically sagged in relief that she hadn’t made a complete fool of herself. ‘But only if I can bring dessert.’

  He was dessert enough but she wisely kept that gem to herself and nodded.

  ‘What’s your number?’ He took out his mobile and after she rattled off her number he pocketed it again. ‘I’ll text you later for your address.’

  ‘No worries.’

  Jane braced as he leaned down to brush an all too brief kiss on her cheek. ‘See you then,’ he said, before releasing her hand and striding away, too tall, too gorgeous, too much.

  Jane didn’t fall for guys, not anymore, but in that moment she came mighty close.

  CHAPTER

  17

  Doing so many late gigs, Kody was used to sleepless nights. Often after a concert he’d be so wired he’d stay awake until morning then crash early the next night. However, having to spend time with his daughter after minimal sleep didn’t seem the brightest idea. Not that he hadn’t tried, but every time he closed his eyes, the last twenty-four hours would play like some goddamn movie, leaving him restless and on edge. His ankle had throbbed intermittently all night and the painkillers had done little. So he’d face his daughter tired and grumpy. Great.

  A knock sounded at the door and trepidation strummed his spine. What if he screwed this up? He didn’t care so much for himself—he’d never had a real family and had closed off his heart to one a long time ago—but what about Isla? She deserved better than some deadbeat dad who’d leave sooner rather than later.

  The knock came again, louder and more insistent, and with a hearty sigh he hopped to the door and opened it.

  Before he could say anything, Tash said, ‘Sorry, I forgot it would take you longer to answer.’

  He heard the words but for all he knew Tash could’ve been talking Mandarin because his gaze had zeroed in on Isla. His daughter.

  She had his eyes. Big, with the slightest tilt upwards at the outer corners, though hazel whereas his were brown, but her smile was all Tash. Isla stared at him with a mix of hope and fear, and all he wanted to do was reassure her everything would be okay. But he had no right making promises like that, not when he remained clueless as to how this would pan out.

  ‘Hi.’ Isla pushed past Tash, who appeared rooted to the spot and wore the same deer-in-the-headlights look he was sure he did. ‘How’s your ankle?’

  ‘Okay.’ He flashed Tash a silent ‘help’ glance and that seemed to wake her up as she followed Isla in. ‘Would you like something to drink?’ Damn, he sounded stilted and formal, but he needn’t have worried, as Isla took charge of the situation with an ease that surprised him.

  ‘I’ll make us iced chocolates,’ she said, a tiny frown marring her brow. ‘You do have cocoa, right?’

  ‘Check in the pantry,’ he said, in sudden need of a seat that had nothing to do with his ankle. With his daughter bustling around like she owned the place and Tash subtly wringing her hands, he felt decidedly wobbly.

  Tash sat next to him and pulled her chair close. ‘In case you hadn’t noticed, she’s a bit of a dynamo.’

  ‘She’s amazing,’ he said softly, and meant it. He’d expected this first official meeting to be awkward and silent, but Isla had taken charge with aplomb.

  ‘Will you be okay if I leave you?’

  His panicked expression must’ve returned because she chuckled and laid a hand on his forearm. ‘Isla’s really keen to spend time with you alone and I think that’s the only way for you two to really bond.’

  ‘Yeah, okay,’ he mumbled, so out of his depth something akin to terror gripped his chest. ‘I hate to be a pain but do you think you could give me a lift back to the hospital tomorrow? I’ve got an orthopaedic outpatient appointment at ten.’

  ‘Sure. I don’t start work until two so that’ll give us plenty of time.’

  ‘Thanks, I appreciate it.’

  Their gazes locked and held, and Kody experienced the same deja vu as he’d had last night in the bathroom. They may not have seen each other for thirteen years and it hadn’t ended well but there was a hint of … something still between them and whatever it was scared him almost as much as the prospect of getting to know his daughter.

  ‘I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning at nine,’ she said. ‘Isla, I’ll see you later,’ she called as Isla emerged from the huge walk-in pantry brandishing cocoa in one hand and a can of whipped cream in the other.

  ‘Okay, Mum, bye.’

  She didn’t seem at all fazed when Tash let herself out, leaving them alone, and once again he was struck by her self-confidence. However, when she placed the supplies on the bench and turned to face him, he glimpsed a hint of nerves in her eyes.

  ‘Where are the glasses?’

  ‘Top cupboard, last on the right.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  She remained silent as she bustled around the kitchen, spooning cocoa and sugar into two glasses, adding a dash of hot water to dissolve it, topping up with milk and stirring vigorously before adding whipped cream and an extra dusting of cocoa. He didn’t particularly like chocolate but if she’d served him outback dust mixed with dam water he would’ve drunk it, that’s how much he wanted to impress her.

  ‘Here you go,’ she said, placing a glass in front of him before sitting on the chair Tash had vacated. She didn’t seem fazed it was a tad too close. Instead, she held up her glass and waited for him to pick his up before clinking it. ‘I’m making a toast to us, because I think it’s really cool I have a dad.’

  She stared at him wide-eyed and with so much hope that his throat tightened. ‘And I think it’s even cooler I have a daughter,’ he said, clinking his glass to hers.

  She seemed satisfied by his lame response and drank half her chocolate milk before placing the glass on the table, regarding him through slightly narrowed eyes because he hadn’t touched his. To make her happy, he drank the whole thing, and was surprised when she giggled—an innocent sound that warmed his heart.

  ‘What’s so funny?’

  She pointed at his top lip. ‘You have a milk moustache.’

  ‘Oh.’ He swiped at it with the back of his hand, glad he’d made her laugh without intending to.

  An awkward silence descended as he racked his brains for something to say.

  Isla saved the day by asking, ‘Do you want to know stuff about me?’

  ‘I want to know everything,’ he said, meaning it.

  It irked that Tash had deprived him of so much but he’d come to a decision in the wee small hours of the morning; regretting the past thirteen years and blaming Tash wouldn’t be conducive to moving forwards with Isla. He had to stop lamenting all he’d lost and focus on gaining so much: a relationship with his daughter.

  ‘Okay.’ She tapped her bottom lip, thinking for a moment. ‘Well
, I’m really good at history and English at school. Though it’s been a big jump from primary school to secondary school and year seven is pretty hard overall. And I hate maths because I’m no good at it, though the teacher is cool and wants to help.’ She snapped her fingers. ‘I’m ace at netball and it’s my favourite sport. Though I like drama too …’ She trailed off, hesitant. ‘I really like being on stage. Maybe I get that from you?’

  ‘Maybe,’ he said, that damn tightness in his throat not easing up. ‘Can you sing?’

  Her mouth quirked into a cheeky grin. ‘Only in the shower.’

  ‘I do my best work there too.’

  ‘No, you don’t. I looked you up on the internet. You’re awesome.’ A faint blush stained her cheeks. ‘I can’t believe my dad is a rock star.’

  Hearing her say ‘my dad’ almost undid him completely and he inhaled slowly, determined not to cry.

  When she didn’t seem inclined to say anything else, he filled the silence. ‘I’ve always loved singing.’

  ‘Since you were a kid?’

  He shook his head. ‘I started when I was older than you, about sixteen, when I met some guys at high school and we formed our own band.’ Yanni, Blue, Roger and Daz had stood by him all these years and he hated that he’d let them down so badly since the concert accident. They were the family he’d never had and he owed them, big time. He tried not to think about what would happen if he never picked up a guitar again, if he never wrote another song, if he never stepped behind a mic. He’d justified his funk by telling himself they’d understand, that they only wanted the best for him. Besides, Rock Hard Place could always find another lead singer. But the thought of his best mates playing on without him left him oddly breathless.

  ‘That must’ve been cool. Did you play mainly at school?’

  ‘Uh, we gigged everywhere.’ Mainly because they’d lied about their ages and played pubs while they’d been underage.

  ‘Were your parents okay with that?’ A light dawned in her eyes. ‘Do I have grandparents?’

  He hated having to dash her hopes. ‘Sorry, kiddo, I was raised in the foster system.’

  ‘Oh.’ Her shoulders sagged. ‘I don’t have a gran or pop from Mum’s side either. Mum said they’re really religious and didn’t approve of her having me without a husband, so they moved away and don’t want anything to do with us.’

  At least Tash had been honest about something, though he immediately felt disloyal, since he’d decided to move forwards and not dwell on recriminations.

  ‘It’s their loss, because you’re an amazing kid.’

  Isla practically glowed. ‘Thanks, but you’ve only just met me, so how do you know?’

  ‘Because I’ve always had the best instincts for reading people and I’m so proud of how you’ve reacted to all this. And I’ll be honest with you, kiddo, I’m out of my depth here. I have no idea if I’ve got what it takes to be a good dad but I’m going to try my best.’

  Isla hurled herself at him and wrapped her arms around him, snuggling her head into the crook of his shoulder. He stiffened for a second before sliding his arms around her and hugging tight. The strawberry fragrance of her hair tickled his nose but he inhaled deeply, savouring it and the warmth of his daughter in his arms.

  Kody had no idea how long they hugged for. It felt like an eternity—yet like nothing at all—when they pulled back and stared at each other with surprise. Had the hug been too much too soon? He hoped he hadn’t made her uncomfortable. But as she continued to stare at him with approval, her smile shy, he knew it was okay. Emotions he never knew existed ricocheted through his chest, pinging off his ribs like tiny bullets.

  He needed a distraction before he blubbered so said the first thing that popped into his head. ‘Do you have a favourite band?’

  ‘Not yours, if that’s what you’re asking.’

  He laughed at her blunt honesty. ‘Too old, huh?’

  ‘Yeah, sorry. Rock Hard Place isn’t my thing.’

  ‘No offence taken.’

  Isla screwed her eyes up slightly as she thought; it was the cutest thing he’d ever seen and reminded him so much of Tash when she’d been poring over her nursing textbooks that his throat tightened.

  ‘I’m more into indie music, though most of the kids at school like pop.’

  He liked that she knew her mind and didn’t follow the crowd, even though he couldn’t stand the eclectic sounds of some of the indies doing the rounds now. Give him a thumping bass and strong lead vocals belting out a rock classic any day.

  ‘Speaking of school, there’s this lame Swap Day where parents take the place of kids in their classes for a day, while we get to do jobs around the school.’ She screwed up her nose. ‘It’s not for a while yet but I know a lot of dads are doing it and I thought maybe you’d like to?’

  So much for keeping his identity under wraps while he was in town. Spending a day in a classroom was bad enough as a kid; doing it now would be pure torture. Besides, he didn’t even know how long he’d be in town for, but as Isla continued to stare at him with expectation he knew he had to give her an answer.

  ‘If I’m around, absolutely. But I’ll be honest, kid, I’m not sure what my schedule’s going to be like over the next few weeks, so let’s see how we go.’

  Damn it, he’d disappointed her. He could see it in her eyes, which now stared at him with disillusionment. But he didn’t believe in bullshitting anyone and the sooner his daughter learned that the better.

  ‘It’s no biggie. Besides, if enough parents don’t want to take part it’ll get cancelled anyway.’ She shrugged, playing it down, but he could see the Swap Day meant a lot to her. For the first time since he’d come to this godforsaken town, he wondered if he should do more than let time heal his wounds—he could seek professional help. He couldn’t be around a bunch of kids if his head wasn’t in the game, because kids saw right through crap. And if Swap Day was important to Isla, he wouldn’t want to screw it up for her, especially if it was the first time he got to meet her friends.

  ‘If I do it, will I need to do any science? I’m terrible at all those push–pull forces and periodic table elements.’

  ‘Me too,’ she said, her expression clearing and her smile returning. ‘It’s cool to have things in common.’

  He managed a lame ‘Yeah.’

  He wanted to spend endless hours learning what else about his daughter made them alike and he would have that time. Because now he knew of her existence, no way would he walk away from Isla the way Tash had walked away from him.

  CHAPTER

  18

  Tash had been home ten minutes and had alternated between peeking out the window in the direction of Kody’s place and making half-hearted attempts at cleaning out the kitchen cupboards. She’d got as far as stacking old plastic cups Isla used as a kid to donate when Alisha knocked on the door. Her friend knew Isla would be spending time with Kody this morning so rather than let Tash wallow, she’d texted to say Harry had made extra vegetarian lasagne and she’d bring it over.

  ‘Special delivery,’ Alisha said, brandishing a picnic basket, when Tash opened the door. ‘With love from the greatest chef this side of the border.’

  ‘Thanks.’ Tash took the basket out of Alisha’s hands and placed it on the bench before sliding a still-warm lasagna out of it. ‘Harry cooked this fresh?’

  ‘Uh-huh.’

  ‘So let me get this straight. Rather than you two sleeping in on a Sunday morning, your only day off for the week, he’s cooking lasagna?’

  Shame-faced, Alisha smiled. ‘I might have coerced him into it with the promise of sleeping in when I get back, because I wanted to come see you.’

  ‘I knew it.’ Tash snapped her fingers. ‘Though you never need an excuse to visit.’

  ‘So how are you?’

  ‘Okay.’ Tash’s shrug may have been nonchalant but she felt anything but. ‘At least, I’m trying to be.’

  ‘She’ll be okay. Isla is a good kid.’
<
br />   ‘I know, but what if—’ She stopped, unable to articulate her deepest fear: What if he breaks Isla’s heart too?

  ‘What if?’ Alisha prompted.

  Tash shook her head. ‘Nothing. I’m being silly. Kody has every right to get to know his daughter and Isla’s over the moon at having a dad.’

  ‘So why the face?’

  ‘I’m feeling all over the place, guilty and sad and more than a tad angry at myself,’ Tash said, flicking on the kettle. ‘Seeing them together this morning, even for a few minutes, rammed home that maybe I did the wrong thing all those years ago.’

  ‘You did what you thought was right at the time.’ Alisha pulled out the nearest chair. ‘Sit. I’ll make tea.’

  ‘Okay. Choc-chip cookies are in the container above the stove.’ Tash watched Alisha prepare the tea, hoping a good cuppa would ease the churning in her stomach. Doubtful, as nothing would help until Isla waltzed through the back door and told her everything that had transpired.

  Alisha placed a plate of biscuits between them and their cups of tea on the table.

  Tash reached for hers. ‘Thanks, Lish, I needed this.’

  ‘My pleasure.’

  They sipped their tea in silence but Alisha kept casting her curious glances.

  Tash put her cup down. ‘Whatever’s on your mind, Lish, spit it out.’

  With a sigh, Alisha said, ‘Have you considered seeing a lawyer?’

  Tash shook her head. ‘Not yet, but I know I’ll need to book an appointment shortly.’

  ‘Kody’s mega rich and I think you need to protect yourself.’

  ‘He’d never sue for full custody. He’d want what’s best for Isla.’

  ‘You lied to this guy and kept Isla a secret for thirteen years. It’s natural he’d resent you, and who knows where that could lead?’

  Tash didn’t like Alisha’s pitying stare. ‘He’s not like that,’ she said, wishing the fear gripping her heart would ease. ‘There’s no room in his life for a child. Which is why I didn’t tell him in the first place.’

  Alisha shrugged. ‘People change. Hell, look at Harry and me. If you’d told me a year ago I’d be marrying a confirmed hermit, I would’ve laughed.’

 

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