‘I can live with that.’
Both of us exhausted, we fell into a light sleep, rousing only when a crick in my neck impinged on my doze.
I struggled awake, waking him, too.
‘You need a good night’s sleep. Jetlag’s caught up with you and my first day home for me.’
‘This feels too good to stop. But you’re right. A good night’s sleep, followed by planning.’
‘I like the sound of that.’
He released me and swung long legs off the bed.
‘I have a couple of questions before you head upstairs.’
He sat down again, holding my hand.
‘Do you like lots of affection? I mean physical affection, touching and being close?’
‘More than most men.’
‘Good answer. Do you like to fall asleep in each other’s arms or have your own space in bed?’
‘Any which way you’ll have me,’ he said, eyes dropping to my mouth. ‘Anywhere.’
A shiver ran through me. ‘Together, wrapped around each other, all night?’ My voice dropped to a whisper.
He nodded, not trusting his voice.
‘Excellent answer.’ My eyes flirted with him. ‘My preference, too.’ I paused. ‘You know, another kiss wouldn’t go astray, before you disappear to bed.’
He needed no further invitation. More time passed, before we pulled apart.
My fingers touched his lips. ‘You’re dangerously sexy, Caleb Warwick.’
He caught my fingers, kissing the fingertips, a slow grin quirking his mouth. ‘Why thank you kindly Rose Gardener. My sexpot fiancée.’
When he’d gone, I tackled my bathroom ablutions before flopping back into bed. What a difference a few hours could make. From despair to exhilaration. And to love and marriage. Sleep remained elusive for hours, although happiness doesn’t take the same toll on the psyche as misery. My thoughts were exclusively with Cal and the anticipation of life together.
Chapter Thirty-Two
In the morning Mum sailed in, pleased to see me awake. ‘How’re you feeling, sweetheart?’
I struggled into a sitting position. ‘Happy.’
‘Good. I can see that handsome young man is besotted with you,’ she said, eyes twinkling.
‘Mum!’
She winked, swishing open the curtains, sunshine flooding the room, before coming to sit beside me.
‘What’s the story, Rose? You haven’t talked about him much. He’s more than a good friend, isn’t he?’
‘You like him, don’t you?’
She nodded, eyes expectant.
‘Good. Because, once Cal is up and around, we need to find Dad and break out a bottle of bubbly.’
She sucked in a surprised gasp, hand on heart. ‘Wha….’ A huge smile split her face. She flung her arms around me. ‘That’s wonderful, darling. He seems a lovely man. He’s certainly delightful company. What’s his story?’
I filled in his background. Mum’s eyes filled with tears as I concluded.
I nudged her arm. ‘Softie.’
‘I know,’ she agreed. ‘But, let’s face it, you have something quite extraordinary in common. Bianca may not have been your partner, but you gave her the best possible care for the last few weeks of her life.’
‘I know. And I don’t regret it.’ My face broke into an irrepressible grin. ‘I can’t think of the last nine weeks of misery any more. I’m so happy I’d get up and dance, except for this.’ I tapped my leg cast.
Mum clapped her hands. ‘And while you have some energy, let’s organize a bath for you, before your fiancé heads back downstairs. And we’ll shampoo your hair. It’s looking very bed-heady.’
‘Fiancé,’ I said, tasting the word on my tongue. ‘I love the sound of that.’ I picked up a strand of greasy hair. ‘Bath and hair. Great idea. I want to feel more like myself when he sees me. Let’s do it now, breakfast can wait. The smell of hospital on my skin feels yuk.’
Amidst giggles we maneuvered me into a hot bath, broken limbs taped in plastic bags, propped on the edge of the bathtub, safe from water. I soaked in hot water for a few minutes, chatting to Mum, my spirits lifting by the minute.
How many daughters, I wondered, would be happy to let their mothers see them naked like this?
Mum washed my hair using a hand-held showerhead. Getting out of the bath turned out to be the epitome of clumsiness, and only feasible once the water had drained and Mum placed towels in the bath to stop me sliding around. After a few curses we managed it.
By the time I was dry and dressed in day clothes for the first time, my energy had taken a nosedive. I sat in a chair while Mum dried my hair, daydreaming about Cal.
‘You’re off with the fairies,’ Mum said, switching off the hairdryer. ‘If this young man doesn’t make you happy. I’ll be after him with a shotgun.’
Eyebrows lifted in comical surprise, I caught her reflection in the mirror. She realized how ridiculous that sounded and we both collapsed in giggles at the idea of her with a gun.
We were still laughing when Cal knocked on the door.
‘Come in.’
He peeked round the door, pushing it open when he saw me awake. ‘I’ve brought sustenance.’
I feasted my eyes on him. Sexy in an outdoor-sy sort of way, his long legs were encased in dark jeans, his feet bare, and he wore a black t-shirt, topped with a rugged hand-knitted black jumper. My heart did little skips of excitement.
He edged in, balancing a tray. ‘Good morning.’
Hair still shower damp, tied back in a loose ponytail, he looked refreshed. And shaved. He put the tray down on my bed and dropped a kiss on Mum’s cheek.
Surprised, her mouth dropped open. I had no time to giggle at her before he greeted me with a kiss on my mouth.
‘Ben tells me you haven’t eaten yet, so I made hot chocolate and fresh toast.’ He handed me a plate and set the hot chocolate within reach on the dressing table. ‘Coffee for you, Anne. Ben gave me instructions on how you like it.’ He sat on the bed, coffee mug in hand.
‘Why thank you, Cal.’ Mum gave him a mock severe look. ‘You wouldn’t be trying to get into my good books, now would you?’
He laughed. ‘Of course I am. And I bet you don’t mind, either. My mother says I’m a natural charmer. Teachers used to gush about me to my parents.’ He threw her a mischievous grin. ‘But it’s your books I want talk about.’ He glanced at me. ‘Rose may have told you my wife and I had been reading your book and planning on building our own sustainable eco-house before we found out she had cancer. I still want to do that when the time’s right.’
Mum’s face held a dazed expression. I hid a smile. We Brits aren’t often up front about personal matters, yet here was Cal talking naturally about his wife, her cancer, and my mother’s influence on his life. Furthermore, the hint about the timing being right had everything to do with our future.
Awed, I smiled at him. It takes skill to say only a few words and yet cover a broad range of issues, and at the same time win over my mother.
She pulled herself together with a dry glance at me. ‘Rose told me you’d been married. I’m very sorry about your wife. Death at such a young age is no less than tragic. I can't imagine how you must have felt.’
‘Thank you. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.’
I took a sip of my hot chocolate, eyes widening in surprise. ‘How...?’
His face wreathed in delight. ‘I ordered some boxes from “The Chocolate Goose” while I was in Sydney. Apple, Jaffa orange and raspberry.’
‘This is the raspberry. I love it. Mum, the next time you’re in Chicago, you should go to this fantastic chocolatier’s place. Cal and I went through an entire box of their yummy chocolates. We felt a bit gross afterwards.’
‘Speak for yourself.’ He laughed. ‘I remember having a lie-down on your sofa to recover from our chocolate binge, but we managed more chocolates that evening.’
Mum studied us, seeing us together, working out how we
ll Cal fitted into my life, putting two and two together and coming up with an answer that pleased her.
‘Well now.’ Mum stood. ‘I’ll fetch Ben and that drink you suggested.’ She winked at me.
They returned with champagne and smiles. Amidst laughter and congratulations, we downed a bottle of Krug. My parents’ questions held no guile. With lawyerly thoroughness, Dad grilled my new fiancé. At the end of an hour, satisfied with his answers, my parents’ took their leave.
‘We have a lunch date with friends,’ Mum said. She turned to Cal. ‘Please make sure Rose doesn’t overdo things today.’
Amused, he nodded, sliding a sideways glance at me.
‘There’s plenty of food in the fridge. Leftover quiche, cold lamb, salad fixings. Whatever takes your fancy.’
He grinned at me after they’d gone.
‘Subtle as a brick.’ I said. ‘They really like you and trust you’ll look after poor feeble little me in my invalid state. Shall we go and sit in the grown-up’s room? These four walls are beginning to close in on me. I could do with a room that doesn’t have a bed in it for once.’
Cal lifted me into the wheelchair and wheeled me through to the snug.
‘This is cozy,’ Cal said, looking around at squishy, inviting cream sofas, family photos on the wall and a piping hot pot-bellied stove.
‘I love this room, it’s much cozier than the formal lounge.’ I agreed. ‘Warmer at this time of year, too. The formal lounge works well in summer, when we can fling open the French windows and feel like we’re practically in the garden.’
He lifted me onto a sofa with a view of the huge back garden. Settling next to me, he pulled me onto his lap and lowered us both against cushions until we lay cocooned, lost in our own private world.
‘I’ve dreamed of this, of you, of wanting you. Of you wanting me.’ He buried his face in my neck and I snuggled into him.
‘I could stay like this forever,’ I murmured. ‘I never want to let you go.’
He threaded his hand in my hair. Cupping my face, eyes intense. ‘You know, when your mother said you’d nearly died and then hung up on me, I all but stopped breathing. There I was, half a world away, and not a clue what was happening. I lost it for a few minutes. I kept hitting the wall, I felt so helpless. My friend, Dave, came through to find out what I was ranting about. He calmed me down, pushing me into action. It took less than fifteen minutes for me to pack everything; then he drove me straight to Sydney, while I called around trying to get the earliest flight to London. I had to wait an agonizing nine hours. It seemed like forever. I slept on a bench in the international terminal, feeling like a vagrant. The trip home seemed endless and I’d no idea where to find you when I got here. Of all people, it was your ex who sent me here.’
Dumbfounded, I blinked. ‘Huh.’
‘I went to his house. The last place I’d seen you. He gave me your parents’ address, after I threatened to beat him up.’
I sniggered. ‘Missed opportunity. Damn.’
A flicker of humor crossed his face. ‘I didn’t want to waste time on him. I wanted you, my darling.’
I stroked his back, eyes never leaving his face. His intensity didn’t scare me.
‘I love you.’ I reached up and kissed him, straining to get closer.
He groaned into my neck, body hard with need, breathing ragged. He kissed me hungrily, hand caressing my curves, cupping my breast, thumb stroking my taut nipple. I sighed, head thrown back, a corresponding spasm of pleasure deep inside. I wanted him inside me so much it was almost a physical pain.
‘Cal.’ My voice came out as a strangled whisper.
His hand stilled on my breast.
‘Don’t stop.’
He rolled onto his back, pulling me on top of him, possessive arms holding tight. ‘Let’s slow down. Just having you in my arms is more than I ever expected.’
We fell asleep like that, only stirring when my parents arrived home.
‘Aw, Ben, look at them, that’s so sweet.’ Mum kept her voice low.
‘I heard that,’ I said, opening sleepy eyes, head on Cal’s chest.
‘Me too.’ Cal said, laughter rumbling in his chest.
I struggled to sit up, finding it impossible without Cal’s help. He sat up in one smooth movement, shifting me onto his lap. Mum and Dad wore identical indulgent smiles.
‘Geez, you old fogies, we’re not a peep show.’ I giggled.
‘Does this remind you of us when we were young.’ Mum turned to Dad with a broad grin.
‘What do you mean “when we were young”? We still behave like lovebirds, we just don’t broadcast it for the world to see.’
Mum flushed in the soft afternoon light. ‘True,’ she conceded.
Dad planted a firm kiss on her mouth. ‘Don’t you forget it.’
‘Who’d like tea or coffee?’ Mum said, cheeks still rosy.
She returned with tea and ginger cake.
‘Thank you.’ Cal took a generous slice.
‘Can you cook?’ Mum asked him as she sat down. ‘I mean, more than just the usual beans on toast that most men seem to do?’ She glanced at Dad, teasing him. ‘Ben’s never progressed beyond a bit of baking.’
Cal’s mouth twitched. He understood my mother still needed to check him out.
‘I’ve always liked cooking. Even as a little kid. My sister, Leah, and I would “help” Mum bake cakes, especially when it came to helping lick the bowls clean. I got called a sissy for a few years. Until I got too big, that is. No-one called me a sissy after I reached twelve.’ He grinned, making a fist.
We all laughed. I could see him as a precocious twelve-year-old knocking the crap out of anyone who took liberties. He must have had massive self-confidence, even then.
That evening Cal met my friends.
Andy eyed him from head to toe before coolly shaking hands with him. I knew he was a smidgeon envious, but he and Brigid were now dating. I hoped one day he’d look back and understand why we’d never have made a good couple.
Shona shocked herself with a furious blush when Cal reached out to shake her hand. Even Martin looked taken aback by her reaction. I suppressed totally inappropriate giggles. I wouldn't let her forget her over the top response.
‘Well,’ she said, recovering her equilibrium. ‘I remember telling Rose you were hot when I saw the honeymoon photos, but I never expected to meet the surfie dude in real life.’
Relieved to let the men talk she turned to me, eyes popping out on stalks, fanning herself exaggeratedly behind their backs. She rolled her eyes at my sly smile. Without a word, she grabbed the wheelchair and wheeled me to the other side of the room.
‘Shit.’ She sank into a chair opposite me, peeking out through hands covering her face. ‘I just made a complete tit of myself, didn’t I?’
I giggled. ‘He does have an effect on people, doesn’t he? Don’t worry about it, I think he’s used to people going gaga about him.’
‘You lucky, lucky cow, Rose Gardener! You’ll have every woman on the planet envying you. What’s he like?’
‘Wonderful. Beautiful. Interesting. Sexy.’ My eyes were dreamy.
‘Yeah, I got the sexy bit,’ she said, voice dry as a desert. ‘Have you done it yet?’
‘Nosy! Not yet. He thinks I’m not strong enough, yet. He might be right, but,’ I glanced across the room to where he mingled with my friends, ‘I can hardly wait.’
‘You should see your face, you’re absolutely glowing, you lucky duck. Good kisser?’
‘Mm, hmm. I have a question for you.’
She matched my serious face, eyebrow tilted in query.
‘Can you keep a secret?’
‘Of course.’
‘We’re engaged.’
Her mouth formed a perfect O.
‘W…wow!’ Speechless, her eyes went from me to Cal.
‘Within minutes of him telling me he’d loved me since we first met.’
She struggled for words. ‘Well,’ she said, at la
st. ‘Just as well you did marry Eddie, the jerk. Otherwise, you’d never have met your gorgeous hunk.
‘True enough.’
She demanded wedding plan details. I shook my head. ‘None, yet. We meant to do that today, but other things got in the way. And, he hasn’t let his family know. We’ll get to that tomorrow. And then we’ll see.’
Chapter Thirty-Three
The next day contained a flurry of plans. Cal called his parents with our news. Given my lack of mobility and strength so soon after the accident, this necessitated my parents issuing a lunch invitation to Cal’s family, in order to meet me.
Cal had spoken to his parents on speaker phone and I’d heard every word.
‘Reading between the lines, that didn’t go as well as you hoped,’ I said, disappointed by the lack of enthusiasm on their part.
He looked down at my clenched fist, picked it up and gently unclenched my fingers.
‘Mum will be fine. Dad,’ he shook his head, ‘not so much.’
‘Why? Does he expect you still be a grieving widower?’
‘He won’t have missed the clue that you’re not a churchgoer. He already knows I’m not.’
‘Unlike Lily, so I’m won’t be as welcome?’
He nodded. I shrugged. Cal mattered, his father didn’t.
The parents’ get-together turned out to be…interesting. Amos, Cal’s father, was lukewarm. He made no effort beyond basic courtesy. Religion colored his view of me and my family. Not being Christians, we were tolerated, not greeted with warmth.
Sarah, Cal’s mother, proved to be a delight. She and Mum were soon engrossed in permaculture conversations, growing food without chemical sprays, raised vegetable beds and knitting for grandchildren.
The two fathers were less genial. Twice I caught my father’s suppressed irritation as Amos, doggedly, pushed his own religious agenda. My father’s loaded comments on redaction criticism were met with an impassive face. I glared at Dad, he accepted my silent rebuke with a bow of the head and, with an effort, turned to topics that would avoid a shouting match.
‘A qualified success,’ Mum said, as we farewelled the retreating car.
Promises Made- Promises Kept Page 42
