This Time Forever (Australis Island)

by Darry Fraser

  Her hands shook as he took a tentative step towards her, the child left standing where he was.

  Jarrad Scott. “How many years —?” She barely realised she’d spoken.

  “Five years, ten months, twenty-two days and—” He looked at his watch. “Ten hours...fifty seven minutes.” He stared at her. “Don’t get excited, I had to double check most of that yesterday.”

  She stared back. How many times had she thought of him, wondered where he was and what he was doing? Wondered if this day would ever come?

  Jarrad Scott.

  He reached across and took her hand away from her mouth. His touch electrified her and she stared into those glorious, dark eyes she had loved so long ago, still loved, with a torment and pain that haunted her long nights alone.

  “Jarrad.”

  “Tears?” He gently brushed them away.

  “Must be the sun.” Her throat was tight and painful.

  He laughed. “Must be.” He cupped her face in his hands, studied its contours, and stared into her dark eyes. “Let me kiss this beautiful face.” He lowered his head, pressing his mouth over hers.

  Meg Donovan’s heart almost stopped. She wrapped her arms about his neck and returned his kiss firmly, hoping its meaning would not be lost on him. He was here, he’d come back to her, and she wanted no misinterpretations.

  He broke away to look at her. “I’ve missed you.” Then he drew her close again.

  His hug was warm, his broad chest and big arms enveloped her, crushing her to him. How she missed this man, how she’d wanted him with all her life, only to thrust him away from her at her lowest point. How she’d needed him. And now he was here.

  “Daddy, what about me?”

  The little voice struck a tiny chord through the fog. Tucked under Jarrad’s arm, Meg turned and looked at the child who watched his father nervously.

  “Harry, this is the lady I was telling you about. This is Meg Donovan.” Jarrad looked at Meg. “It is still Donovan, isn’t it?”

  Meg laughed through her tears. “Yes.” She held her hand out to the little boy. “Hello.”

  “I’m Harry and I’m five.”

  This was his child. Meg took a deep breath. The little boy was so like his father, she wondered what his mother Cindy looked like. Harry had Jarrad’s open face, his dark, tousled hair, his generous grin. Her heart lurched and she swayed in Jarrad’s firm grip about her waist. His child. “Five. Well, that is a grand age. Would you like to come see my house?”

  “Yes. Dad always talks about this house. He says—”

  “Remember what else I said, Harry,” his father warned. “Watch your manners.”

  “Come on,” said Meg, tugging the little boy’s hand. “Let me see if I can find some lemonade or an icy-pole.”

  They moved off to the house, a threesome, and she laughed. Jarrad wasn’t relinquishing his hold on her.

  “Hopefully I can find us something stronger than lemonade,” she said.

  Jarrad deposited Harry on the floor overlooking the magnificent view. The boy slurped from a large glass of lemonade and an ice cream cone alternately, under orders not to spill a drop.

  Meg took Jarrad’s hand. “What do you think?” Her free hand swept around the room.

  “It’s wonderful. You’ve done a great job. You must be very proud of yourself.”

  She smiled at him. “It had as much of your input as mine.”

  He took a seat at the large dining table. “Will you have a drink with me?”

  “A rum and coke?”

  He laughed. “Not this early. How about a white wine?”

  She poured two large crystal goblets and she knew her hands were visibly shaking. She sat beside him.

  “Have you been all right?” he asked as they chinked the glasses.

  “Fine. You?”

  “Fine.”

  Meg nodded knowing neither had been fine. “He’s a gorgeous boy, Jarrad.”

  “Yes, he is.” He bent his head and studied his wine.

  “Do you have other kids?”

  “No. Only Harry.”

  “Not trying for more?” Her breath had caught as she asked the question, but her voice was steady.

  He looked at her thoughtfully before answering. “No. I’m divorced from Cindy. That’s why I’ve come. I want to see you again.”

  He’d married her. He’d divorced her.

  Meg’s heart still raced. Elated to see him again, she studied him openly. His hair was flecked with grey at the temples, and a few grey strands streaked the thick, dark hair across his head. The wiry hair on his chest curled through the open shirt collar and, like long ago, she longed to reach across and touch it, lay her hand on his big chest.

  He would be thirty-eight or nine now.

  She felt fresh tears coming. It would be so cruel if he’d shown up just to boost his ego. Would he do that?

  The tears cleared before they had a chance to spill. No, she reasoned. He was always honest with her, even though he’d broken her heart. They had always agreed to be honest.

  He was here because he wanted to see her.

  “It’s been too long, Meg. I needed to see you.” He laid his hand over hers.

  Her skin tingled where he touched it. How often had she imagined that tingling? How often had she tortured herself thinking he might one day return? She turned her hand and intertwined her fingers with his.

  “How long are you here for?” There was no sense being taken by surprise again if he was going to leave in an hour.

  He shrugged. “I have to have Harry back on Monday.”

  “Well, I’m sure I can put the two of you up, if you’d like that.” Three days. A lot can happen in three days. It always did when they got together. It always clicked smoothly into place every time they laid eyes on each other.

  Meg didn’t ask about Harry’s mother. Nothing was going to mar this wonderful meeting.

  “I would, very much. You look great, Meg. Just the same as you always did.”

  “So do you. I do detect a distinguished aging.”

  “You like it? It kinda grows on me.”

  She laughed again, put her hand to her hair and was about to say something.

  He held up a hand. “Don’t tell me about your age,” he said, quietly interrupting her. “I don’t want to hear that. You look like the woman I fell in love with eight years ago. You look even better now. I still love you, Meg.”

  She inhaled sharply. “You’ve already caught me by surprise. Let me get used to seeing you again.”

  He ran his hand up her arm and down again, played with her fingers, turned her palm upwards. He seemed to want to stare at every part of her. “Do you want to get used to it? Is there anyone else?”

  She shook her head. There hadn’t been another man to take his place. She had finished with men not long after she’d sent him away. Besides, she’d wanted no one else. “No one.”

  She looked into his hazel eyes. How long had she waited, hoping? How long had she wanted to throw all caution to the wind and rush into his arms the moment he held them wide for her?

  Now it frightened her. She would be fifty in four years. It was more frightening to her now, seeing him beside her as a mature man, and somebody’s father. Eight years her junior.

  Her hesitation was not lost on him. “I don’t care if you’re a hundred and fifty. It makes no difference to me and it never did. It took me all my guts to come to the island knowing that there was an enormous chance some other bloke had married you off. You sent me packing back then.”

  She glanced at Harry who was making sure neither the drink nor the ice-cream spilled onto the cool terracotta tiles beneath his bottom.

  “You could’ve found out somehow before you arrived.”

  Jarrad shook his head. “I didn’t want to know.”

  Hurt dredged up from her boots. “I couldn’t give you what you wanted back then.”

  He shook his head again. “You wouldn’t give it.”

 
“I was forty years of age.”

  “You were thirty-nine.”

  “And married to someone else.”

  “You’d separated by the time I came back. You sent me away, not the other way round, remember?”

  Meg shifted uncomfortably. It was the same old argument. For so long she had cursed herself because of her cowardice. She hadn’t been interested in having a child, and when she decided she could, just to hold on to him, she was too late. He’d gone, disappeared in the night.

  She reddened. She had been the fool and had sent him away by not speaking up sooner. By not knowing sooner. Now he was back asking to take up where they left off. Had she changed at all? Could they pick up the pieces, scattered as they were across their intertwined lives?

  Now he had his Harry. Now it wouldn’t matter that they didn’t have a child together. There was a little ping in her stomach when she thought about that.

  She looked at Jarrad. “Well, he’s a great looking little kid. I’m very glad for you.”

  He shifted in his seat, leaned across the table. “Don’t turn me away, Meg. I don’t want to be without you. Do you understand me? There’s nothing to stop this now, unless you don’t want it anymore. We already worked out the happy ending.”

  She nodded and looked down at his hand covering hers. She didn’t want to allow her decision to come quickly. It would be too easy to give in, too painful to unlock all that emotion, too tormenting to know the hurt was seeping away, and with it, all her defenses.

  If she gave in this time and he left, it would kill her.

  “That was before the sad one. And the six year break. I have to think about it.”

  He took both her hands in his. “I know you’re nervous about letting it all happen again. God knows I am, but not because I know it wouldn’t work.” He squeezed her hands. “But because I know it would. Let’s not waste any more time.” He stood up. “Can we leave Harry with someone for a little while? I’d like to take a walk around this place.”

  “Andrea will be along in a few minutes. She’s my help in the guest rooms. She has kids of her own, he’ll be fine.”

  “Take me on a tour of the house until she arrives.”

  Harry trotted behind them as far as the guest rooms. Beyond that, the beautiful carpets and furnishings within would not have stood up well under a five year old’s ice-cream and lemonade slurping and dripping. They waited while Andrea parked her vehicle, was introduced, and took the happy Harry away.

  Jarrad took her in his arms. “I’m not letting you go, Meg.”

  She kissed his cheek. “Mmm, but you do feel good, Jarrad Scott. It is just wonderful to see you again.” She took his hand. “Come on, let’s go on this little tour.”

  He followed her on to the verandah and took a deep breath. “You don’t know how often I’ve wanted to stand here with you and take all this in.” He stood behind her, wrapping his arms around her and hugging her close.

  She leaned against his chest, rested her head on his shoulder and for the first time ever, she didn’t see the view at all.

  She couldn’t speak. This was everything she’d dreamed of for six years. His arms around her, holding her securely, lovingly. She rubbed his arms with her hands, feeling the coarse hair, the hard muscles. Oh, she wanted this man. Yet still something held her back. Perhaps the dream was never meant to be reality.

  “Let’s go over the place. We’ll do inside later,” she said. She stepped on to the expanse of land at the foot of the verandah steps.

  “What’s that building?” he asked, pointing off to the west where he had seen the cabin as he came in.

  She laughed suddenly, then. “You don’t remember what we talked about?”

  Perplexed, he shook his head. “We talked about everything and anything. I don’t recall talking about a cabin.”

  “The hired hand?”

  He shook his head again. “Don’t remember.”

  “Come on,” she said, taking the verandah steps two at a time and marching over the bare ground. “It took me a month of Sunday’s to get it approved. I had to call it a site shed. It’s as bare as a baby’s bum, but I had to do it.”

  He laughed as she half dragged him, half pushed him, then she went on ahead.

  “Slow down,” he complained. “I’m not the fella I was.”

  “Oh, you’d better be,” she laughed over her shoulder.

  “Oh yeah?”

  “Yeah. Wait until I remind you of this.”

  She pushed open the little door of the cabin, brushing cobwebs down from the entrance. “This was where you were going to stay. Remember? We kidded around that I’d have to hire you to get you into—”

  “The hired hand. I remember.” He kissed her roughly, pulled her to him. He slid his hands down her arms then they wrapped around her, holding her closer. “You won’t have to hire me.”

  “You’re not going to leave again?”

  “I’m not going to leave you.” He slid them both carefully to the dusty floor.

  “What about your job? What about Harry?” She started to unbutton his shirt.

  “The job will come with me. Harry goes back to Cindy to live, to go to school. That’s the deal.” His voice rasped in her ear, his breath warm. “But he’ll visit us here.” He lifted his head. “I’ll pay my way, Meg. I won’t interfere. Your finances are your own. I just want to be here, make my life here, with you.”

  “You sure you want to live here?” Her hand had found the warm, firm chest over his heart.

  “If you’ll have me.” He gave her a piercing stare after taking a look around. “Though not here in the site shed.”

  She laughed. Her hopes rose higher than they’d ever dared before, but tentatively. She wanted to be careful, aware. Sure to make it work.

  She took his beloved face in her hands and kissed him softly on the mouth. “I’ll have you. I don’t want to be without you ever again.”

  “Never.” His booted foot swung the door of the cabin closed, shutting out the rest of the world. “I’ll be here, forever.”

  Meg closed her eyes as his strong arms lifted her on to his lap. The warmth of his hands on her bare back sent waves of heat through her.

  Forever. The thought breezed through her head, teasing her resolve, reminding her that forever was not what it promised.

  Forever, for now, she decided. It was the best she could do.

  No. No.

  This time, forever.

  THE END

  ALSO BY DARRY FRASER

  Australis Island stories

  Island Proposal

  An Isolated Incident

  (Anything For Love)

  Berry Flavours

  Money For Blood

  Central Australia stories

  Will of the Heart

  Short Stories

  Moonlight and Wild Things

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