by Loretta Hill
Joanna gave Sarah another long look not dissimilar to the ‘respect yourself,’ one she had given her a few days ago. ‘Sure,’ she said, and swiped the bill off the counter before walking off.
In the awkward silence that followed, Hamish’s phone rang. Sarah was relieved. She had no idea where or even how to move the conversation forward from there.
‘Oh hi, Mum,’ Hamish said into his mobile. ‘Clothes? What clothes? Oh those ones. Sorry about that. Yeah, they’re dirty, they can go in the wash.’ Another pause. ‘No, I probably won’t be home for dinner tonight. My date is going really well.’ He gave Sarah a suggestive wink across the table. ‘She’s really nice, and pretty too.’
Sarah gave him a weak smile before taking a huge gulp of cranberry and lime …
‘Do you want to speak to her?’
… And then nearly spat it out.
He held out his phone.
‘Oh no, I … I couldn’t.’ She tried to wave her hand in protest but he only shoved the phone further into her face.
‘Go on. She won’t bite.’
Gingerly, she took the mobile and held it to her ear. ‘Er, hello.’
‘Hello, dear.’ The voice on the other end trembled with age. ‘My name is Eloise. Lovely to meet you.’
‘Nice to meet you too.’
‘Now I’m sure you’re very nervous, first date and all, so I won’t keep you long. Just wanted to let you know that I’m so pleased that Hamish is getting out and about. He’s such a sweet boy and really is wasted at home with his mum.’
‘Er, thanks.’
‘Just a few things though, dear. He’s allergic to strawberries. He has to have water concurrently with every meal and don’t let him stay up later than midnight because he just can’t function the next day. You know how it is.’
‘Oh, I –’
‘Have fun.’ With this cheerful instruction she rang off. Sarah pulled the phone from her ear and looked at it in disbelief.
‘Sweet, isn’t she?’ Hamish commented and took another sip of his drink.
Sarah handed him back his phone. ‘Will you excuse me for a minute?’
‘Sure.’ Hamish took another happy sip of Coke.
She got up and headed straight for the bar, where Owen was standing watching her lazily while wiping glasses. His lip quirked as she knocked desperately on the bar with a not so subtle, ‘Psssst! I need you.’
He put the glass and tea towel down with all the speed of an art connoisseur perusing the room. ‘You need me?’ He raised his eyebrows. ‘I thought you said you wouldn’t.’
‘Forget what I said’.’
‘I can’t just forget what you said.’ He shook his head. ‘Not when your opinion means so much to me.’
‘Stop it,’ she said, biting her lip against the laugh that wanted to escape. ‘I haven’t forgiven you on that front yet.’
‘You haven’t forgiven me but you need me.’ He rubbed his chin. ‘So that would make you … desperate.’
She glanced back at Hamish, who appeared to be putting sugar sachets into the front pocket of his t-shirt. She swung her gaze back to Owen and hissed tightly, ‘Yes.’
He folded his arms. ‘What has that poor man done to be kicked to the kerb so quicky?’
‘Nothing as such,’ she whispered harshly. ‘He’s just a stingy, chauvinistic, dole-bludging mama’s boy who’s allergic to my favourite fruit. Trust me, it’s not going to work out. I have to end my date with him.’ She leaned heavily on the counter so that he could hear her lowered tones a little better. ‘And I know you can help me.’
‘Really? You know that?’
‘Well,’ she said rationally, ‘you were so good at getting rid of Tom. I thought you might have some ideas.’
‘I have a few.’ He copied her pose by also leaning against the counter so that now their faces, much to her disconcertment, were mere inches apart. ‘But it’ll cost you.’
Her eyelids grew heavy, her body lethargic, but somehow she managed to find her voice. ‘I’m not going to kiss you.’
A self-satisfied smile stretched his mouth. ‘Why would you think I was going to ask for that?’
‘Er …’ Embarrassment choked her as the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. ‘It’s not that I … I wasn’t … I would never …’
‘Calm down.’ He laughed, standing up straight again. ‘What I wanted was your forgiveness for what I said the last time we saw each other.’
She paused. ‘Really?’
‘Yes.’
‘All right fine, you’re forgiven but –’
‘Wait here,’ he interrupted her. ‘This won’t take a minute.’
She gasped in annoyance, first at his interruption of what she deemed a significant moment and secondly for his complete confidence that Hamish would give her up that willingly. ‘It won’t be easy, you know’,’ she protested. ‘He really likes me.’
‘Is that so?’
‘Yes.’ She folded her arms with some dignity. ‘He thinks I’m pretty.’
‘You’re not pretty,’ he said, turning to go. But even as her jaw and arms slackened in chagrin, he threw over his shoulder, ‘You’re beautiful.’
She didn’t know whether to be irritated or flattered as she watched his broad shoulders confidently navigate the room before arriving at Hamish’s table. Much to her disappointment, Owen had his back to her so she couldn’t see his face or even attempt to lip read. But his stance was certainly relaxed enough – one elbow rested lightly on the top of her recently vacated chair, while his left leg crooked casually in front of his right.
She could see Hamish’s face, however, and the man did not look the least bit offended. His vague expression brightened from mildly interested to downright pleased.
What is he saying?
After a few more words had been exchanged, Hamish rose out of his chair, one massive grin on his face, and they shook hands. Then he gave Owen one last nod before shoving his hands in his pockets, turning tail and walking out. If Sarah didn’t know any better she would almost say he was whistling a cheerful tune, if not out loud then certainly in his head. She watched him till he was completely out of the building to see if he would at least turn and wave at her. But he did not break pace or glance back and the door swung closed.
‘You hungry?’
She looked to her left to find that Owen had already returned to her side.
‘Cause I can get us a pizza again without pepperoni. Or whatever you like. I realise I’ve still got some grovelling to do.’
‘Never mind about that,’ she spluttered. ‘What did you say to him? He got up and left in under thirty seconds flat and just a moment ago he was saying how well our date was going.’
He grinned. ‘You really want to know’?’
‘Well of course I want to know! No woman wants a man to give up on her that fast.’
‘He didn’t give up precisely.’ He shrugged. ‘I paid him to leave.’
‘You what? Oh no!’ She begun rummaging around in her handbag looking for her purse. She couldn’t let Owen shack out a large sum of money on her behalf without some compensation. ‘How much did he want?’
‘Ten bucks.’
‘Ten bucks!’ She lifted her head in disbelief. ‘That’s it?’
‘Well, if it makes you feel any better, originally I offered him five and he bargained upward.’
‘No,’ she retorted, ‘that does not make me feel better. Is that all I’m worth?’
‘Oh, and I had to throw in his drink for free too. So you were worth more like thirteen dollars.’ Owen shook his head. ‘The man drew a hard bargain. Anyway, so how about that pizza?’ He sat down at the bar beside her.
‘Sorry, I’m still trying to process being dumped for thirteen dollars. It’s almost like some prank out of high school.’
‘You’re not honestly offended because I did what you asked me to do?’ He raised his hand at Joanna, who was further down the bar. ‘Hey, Jo, can we get two pizzas again? Minus
the pepperoni.’
Sarah looked down at her hands. ‘I guess not. It’s just the story of my life, that’s all. Guys are always great to me until something better comes along. And, as you can see, it doesn’t take much. I’ve got a Valentine’s Day history to prove it.’
Owen frowned. ‘Are we back on the theory that you’re cursed?’
‘I don’t really think it’s a theory given how much evidence we’ve got lying about.’ Sarah sighed. ‘I’m never going to fall in love before Big V.’
‘Well, I don’t know much about falling in love.’ Owen spread his hands. ‘And I have no intention of doing it any time soon. But there is definitely nothing wrong with you.’
‘Really?’ Sarah eyeballed him. ‘Then why did you say last week that you don’t give a damn about my opinion?’
A shuttered expression came over his face. ‘I thought I apologised for that.’
She snorted. ‘You call that an apology?’
He sighed. ‘So I guess we’re not done talking about it then?’
‘What do you think?’
Chapter 9
Week 3, Day 2: Realisation
He’d always known that when he saw her again he’d be roped into explaining himself. He just hadn’t realised how difficult it would be. Talking about his feelings was not his forte. Mostly because he liked to pretend he had none. But that look of hurt on her face had haunted him for days.
Seven, to be precise.
All he could think about was how to take the words back, which was yet another unwelcome surprise considering he never apologised to women (and that was saying something, given the number he’d offended in his time). The truth was, this friendship was beginning to take on a much greater importance to him than he would have liked. It didn’t help that his daughter had asked after Sarah as well and the only thing he could say in response was, ‘I don’t know. I haven’t seen her recently.’
‘Dad, I liked her,’ Chloe had groaned. ‘You haven’t stuffed it up, have you?’
Short answer. Yes.
Long answer. If this was what caused a friendship with a female to wither and die, wasn’t he out of a bad bargain anyway? The last thing he needed in his life was someone who didn’t understand distance. And yet the thought of cutting all connection with Sarah at this point seemed unthinkable. Even looking at her face now, her eyes watching him with such concern, not explaining himself wasn’t a crime worth committing.
‘I lied, all right,’ he said finally. ‘I do care about your opinion, I just wanted you to stop talking about my wife.’
‘Why didn’t you just say so?’ She tilted her head in that oddly endearing way she had, like a little bird looking at a wiggly worm. ‘I can mind my own business, you know.’
‘Really?’ he mused. ‘I hadn’t noticed. Once you get something in your head you tend to rabbit on about it till it goes away.’
‘Well, I’m sorry. You don’t need to tell me why your wife left you. I shouldn’t have even brought it up in the first place.’
He examined his thumbnail and said without looking at her, ‘She, er … didn’t leave exactly. At least, not in a geographical earthly sense.’
She had averted her eyes, but turned back quickly at this. ‘Sorry?’
Why are you telling her this?
You don’t have to.
She just said it’s none of her business. And she’s never been more right about anything.
But he glanced up and a weight seemed to lift as his eyes connected with her warm, bright ones. Like seeing land after ten weeks at sea.
‘She committed suicide.’
Her hand flew to her mouth and she shook her head.
His eyes dropped, as words poured out painfully. ‘I found her in the bath tub one night after work –’ He broke off, unable to continue. It had been too long since he’d said any of this out loud and all the hurt and despair came flooding back like the afternoon tide. The anger, the self-blame, the helplessness. The wishing that he had come home sooner. And the questions. The endless questions.
Why hadn’t he noticed any signs? Why hadn’t he paid more attention?
It was all there in the vault at the back of his mind, still festering after all this time.
‘Oh, Owen.’
And then she did something completely unexpected. She jumped off her stool and slotted her body straight into his. Standing between his open legs, she threw both her arms around his neck and rested her head on his shoulder. Her fingers grabbed a handful of his hair and she whispered, ‘I am so sorry.’
Warmth infused him. The move was so sudden and so tender that for a second he did not react. Could not react because of the giant lump that had formed in his throat. Finally, he lifted his arms and put them around her too, closing his eyes to enjoy the feel of her. The softness of her breasts against his chest, the fullness of her hips between his thighs. Her thin, delicate bone structure so fragile under his hands. She smelled like flowers and summer. As she pulled away, he wanted to snatch her back and hold her forever.
‘You make me feel so guilty,’ she said with a hand to his cheek.
‘Huh?’ he responded. ‘Why should you feel guilty about this?’
‘I made all these judgements about you from my ivory tower when I had absolutely no idea where you were coming from. No wonder you’re scared of commitment. No wonder you’re so protective of Chloe. I can see how much you want to make sure that neither of you gets hurt like that again.’
He said nothing. He didn’t want to confirm that she was right because then he would have to admit that he had let her see a part of him that no other woman since Amanda had even glimpsed at. He didn’t know if he was ready for that yet.
A throat cleared beside them and they both turned their heads to find a tall girl with long blonde hair watching them, arms tightly folded. He squinted at her, trying to remember if he’d slept with her. Or worse, said he’d call her afterwards and then didn’t.
‘Er … I can explain,’ he began.
‘Relax,’ the blonde shot him a cynical look. ‘You don’t know me.’
He let out a sigh of relief. But Sarah, who was still standing within the half circle made by his body, stiffened against his thigh. She snatched her hand away from his face, a flush that made her look even more delicious than ever spreading rapidly up her neck. ‘Mia! Hi! What are you doing here?’
‘I was in the neighbourhood and I thought I’d peek in on you and your date.’
‘Oh.’ Sarah’s flush seemed to deepen. ‘That’s over now.’
Mia raised her eyebrows. ‘Clearly.’
Just then their pizzas arrived courtesy of Joanna. ‘Two Supremes minus pepperoni.’
‘Having dinner now, are we?’ Mia enquired with a quick look at their plates as Joanna walked off.
‘Er …’
Seeing Sarah’s discomfort, Owen frowned and said, ‘Do you have some sort of problem with this?’
‘That depends.’ Mia glared at him and then poked her friend. ‘You need to call me when you get home, all right?’
‘Sure,’ Sarah said, lowering her eyes as Mia walked off. ‘What was that all about?’ he asked, picking up a slice of pizza and taking a bite.
Sarah shook her head. ‘She’s just worried about me, that’s all. Doesn’t want me falling in love with the resident heartbreaker.’
He smiled at the thought. ‘Are you in any danger?’
She didn’t answer immediately and he was suddenly aware that he was holding his breath for her response. Deliberately, he made himself breathe again. ‘Difficult question?’
She sighed. ‘Owen, you’re my friend. And after today, after everything you’ve confided in me, I would even say you’re a close friend. I wouldn’t want to mess that up.’
‘No,’ he replied huskily. ‘I guess not.’
She looked down at the pizza, making a big deal of picking her slice. ‘I want you to know that over the last few weeks, I don’t why or how, but I’ve come to care about you
and your daughter. As a friend.’ She looked up. ‘As a good friend. I’m here for you if you need anything.’
‘Thanks.’ The word stuck huskily in his throat and seemed like a horrendously inadequate reply to her heartfelt words. Being kind and open – it all came too easily to her. This sweet, guileless woman who brightened a room just by being in it.
He wanted to make light of things as he usually did. Retreat behind a quick quip or a flirtatious remark. But flippancy had no place in this moment and the realisation terrified him. How had he come this far and so quickly without even being aware of it?
‘There’s nothing else you want to say?’ she queried as she nibbled on the tip of her pizza slice.
‘Like what?’ he asked thickly.
‘Like, I don’t know …’ She looked away. ‘Like you’re here for me too’?’
‘You know I’m here for you, Sarah.’ He smiled at her. ‘Haven’t I had your back these last three dates?’
‘You’re right.’ She nodded. ‘You have. I guess I just wanted to hear you say that despite your initial reservations you’re glad we’re friends too.’
In that moment, a blinding truth struck him like a bolt of lightning.
No, he wasn’t glad they were friends because he didn’t want to be her friend.
He had never wanted to be her friend.
But now he knew the reason – because friends would never be enough.
A hunger that had nothing to do with food rumbled deep in the centre of his chest.
What’s happening to me? What have I done?
Panic seized him.
‘Owen, are you okay?’
‘Um, fine.’ As usual, all the disappointments and heartache he’d endured in his life were playing in his head like re-runs of an old movie he’d seen too many times. Taunting him, threatening him, reminding him. Only this time, he had the power to turn it off. The thing was, none of the self-loathing he’d felt in those moments would be as bad as his regret for ruining his chances with a girl like her. For too long, he had held himself back. Lived an empty life because he was afraid of risking what he had. Was it possible that in protecting himself and Chloe he had only been causing them both to suffer more?
