Summer in the City: The perfect feel-good summer romance

by Emma Jackson

  ‘No. Mom said to bring you straight to her when you arrived. I’m just following orders.’

  ‘Idiot,’ she repeated with half a laugh and punched him hard in the kidneys. Wow. Perhaps I needn’t have been so worried at the biker bar the other week with her at my side.

  ‘Jesus H Christ, Noelle,’ he groaned and dropped her, bending awkwardly at the waist. He eyed her resentfully but then he held up his hand, palm out in invitation. ‘Sweet move though – glad to see you can still look after yourself.’

  She high-fived him. ‘Of course, I can. And I’ll go straight to Mom okay? It’s where I was heading anyhow.’

  ‘Uh-uh. Hang on. Who’s this?’ He pointed a finger at me.

  ‘This is my friend Stephen.’

  ‘A boyfriend type of friend?’

  ‘No. A friend type of friend.’

  ‘Are you sure? He looks just like your type A preferred brand of date.’

  I raised my eyebrows and looked at her, but she crossed her arms and kept her focus on him. ‘Timothy. I will kick you in the nuts if you don’t drop it.’

  He held up his hands in surrender.

  ‘Pleased to meet you,’ I offered politely.

  ‘Hey, dude.’ He grinned and shook my hand but turned to Noelle with a frown. ‘So, you never answered me about the blind date—’

  ‘I did. You just chose not to listen. And I don’t want to go over it again now.’

  Without waiting for his response, Noelle started dragging me through the house again.

  ‘So, that’s your brother Tim.’

  ‘Yeah. That’s him.’ Her voice was unnaturally bright. For some reason I didn’t feel as willing to let it drop as I had at the funfair.

  ‘Why won’t you let him set you up? And what exactly is your type A preferred brand of man?’

  She came to a stop at the door into the kitchen, sighed and pulled me aside. ‘Listen, Stephen, you and I have sparred enough that I know you and Nick must have a similar family rapport, with the banter and the teasing. The thing is, you will hear a lot of jests about my love life here today. There will be talk of my type A and type B, and the merry band of misfits who are my exes. But if we are going to stay here and talk my dad into doing you this favour and remain friends, I ask that you pretend you haven’t heard it. Please?’

  Her cheeks were flushed, and her fingers fluttered around straightening the strap of her dress, which required no straightening. ‘You know…there’s a fine line between banter and bullying.’

  ‘They don’t mean any harm.’

  ‘It doesn’t mean they’re not doing some.’

  She frowned up at me, as though she didn’t recognise me. ‘I can handle them.’

  ‘Obviously. Will you punch me in the kidneys if I don’t drop it too?’ I joked, trying to lighten the mood again. I didn’t want her to think I was criticising her family, without even knowing them.

  ‘Oh no. You’d be expecting that, and type A guys deserve much worse.’ She winked at me before walking into the narrow galley kitchen. A woman the same height as Noelle with fair hair braided back was standing at the sink washing a large bowl, looking out the window watching a bunch of men who were crowded around a grill on the lawn.

  ‘Mom.’ Noelle slid her arm around her mother and leaned her head on her shoulder with a relieved sigh like she was home and could finally relax.

  An unexpected moment of grief ripped through my gut.

  My safe place was gone. It still hurt. It wasn’t ever going to stop hurting.

  They were chatting about a salad that her mother wanted her to make and then Noelle turned to me with a smile in her eyes, which dimmed when she caught my expression. I put my face back together, offered her a small smile in return but I could see she wasn’t fooled. That made me think of Mum too – she’d never been fooled either.

  ‘Oh, who’s this?’ Noelle’s mother turned a second later and grabbed a dish towel to wipe her hands.

  ‘This is Stephen, from London.’

  ‘Well, you sure came a long way for a barbecue.’

  Noelle rolled her eyes in a good-natured way. ‘He’s working in New York for the summer but we met in England at Christmas.’

  ‘And is Noelle showing you all the sights?’

  ‘Absolutely, Noelle’s been a wonderful tour guide.’

  ‘Oh Lord, that accent.’ Her mother lifted her eyebrows a threw a look at Noelle just like the ones I’d seen Noelle give Beth – conspiring and amused. ‘So are you—’

  ‘No,’ Noelle interrupted. ‘I have a favour to ask of Dad for him though.’

  ‘Right. Best let your father finish cooking and get some food in him. You know how antsy he gets when he’s hungry.’ She smiled at me again. There was something so unhurried in her manner, calm and patient, which was not what I would’ve expected of a woman with seven children, but then maybe one got to a point where trying to control the surrounding chaos was impossible. ‘Help yourself to whatever you like, honey. You’re very welcome here.’

  ‘Thank you—?’

  ‘Belinda.’ She held out her hand, soft and warm from washing up, and I took it and pressed it between mine gently.

  ‘Belinda. You’re very kind.’

  She smiled at me with mischief in her eyes and as Noelle tugged me towards the doors where the yard was, I heard her murmur. ‘What a charmer.’

  There was that word again.

  ‘Are you okay?’ Noelle pressed her shoulder to my arm as we descended the steps off the decking and headed for the grill. The smell of charcoal and sweetly marinated meat filled my nose and my stomach growled.

  ‘Of course. Just hungry.’

  ‘Well, like my mom said, it’ll be best to tackle Dad after the food, so tuck in when it’s served up and just do your charming British thing.’

  I stifled a sigh.

  The group of men all stopped talking and turned as we reached them. They looked like someone had stamped them out using the same cookie cutter. All just under six foot with the same short red hair and grey eyes, age was the only discerning factor at a first glance.

  As Noelle did brief introductions, I looked out for memorable characteristics I could link to their names, the same way I had to do when I was met new clients. Teddy and Alfie, the twins, were going to be a challenge, but Alfie had a concentrated group of freckles over his forehead and Teddy had darker eyebrows. Sam wore his hair longer and there was a flick of dark ink at the edge of his collar that was most likely a tattoo, which would help me separate him from the eldest, Tim, when he was back around. Her dad’s name was Ken.

  While I was examining them to memorise their names, I realised they were eyeing me back with as much concentration, like a pack of overprotective wolves. One of them – Alfie – was spinning an American football in his hand.

  ‘You want to join us in a game of touch football while we wait for Dad and Noelle to finish on the grill?’

  When had she suddenly been volunteered to help cook? And she had a salad to make with her mother. It was beginning to look like I was hardly going to see her. Not that I was here as a date. I was her friend.

  ‘No. No, no,’ Noelle immediately interjected. ‘I want no weird, macho, BS happening please. Stephen is a guest in our house, he hails from a civilised country, and I expect you guys to show him that Americans can be as well mannered as Brits okay?’

  ‘We’ll be good, sis, I promise. He looks fit and able. Very Type A.’ He sniggered and nudged his twin. Noelle rolled her eyes but I felt a little like we were in it together. Whatever the hell Type A was, I was going to be ribbed about it too. ‘You ever played American football, Stephen?’

  ‘No. I’ve played rugby. It’s similar, I think. We don’t worry about helmets and shoulder pads for it though.’

  ‘Oh-ho, is that so?’ Alfie laughed. ‘Think you’re tougher than us Yanks do you—’

  ‘No. No. No.’ Any moment now she was going to start stamping her feet.

  ‘Relax, Noelle.’
Teddy put his arm around her shoulders. ‘We’re just teasing. We need to have a game of something though. Work up our appetite.’

  ‘How about baseball?’ A little voice piped up and a young girl, barely a teenager, came careening across the grass at us, throwing herself into Noelle’s arms.

  ‘Daisy, for goodness’ sake, don’t throw yourself around when there’s a grill right here,’ her father scolded, shaking his head. ‘You want me to have a heart attack?’

  ‘C’mon.’ Noelle gave her a squeeze and led her further onto the grass, away from the grill. ‘You gonna sort these boys out and keep ’em in line for me, while I help get the food ready?’

  ‘You can’t play?’

  ‘Look, I know it’s hilarious to watch me attempt sports, but the oldies need my help.’

  ‘Less of the oldies thank you,’ Ken called out.

  ‘Fine.’ Daisy sighed. ‘You wanna play cards after we eat? Uncle Joe’s been teaching me poker.’

  ‘You’re on. What do you bet with? Candy?’

  ‘Candy? What am I a kindergartener? No – we play for money.’ Daisy fastened her hair up in a knot and gave her big sister a look like she was nuts.

  ‘Oh well, in that case, I might have to get you to bankroll me. I left my purse at home.’

  ‘I can take an IOU.’

  ‘So sure you’re gonna win? Uncle Joe taught me how to play when I was your age.’

  ‘Exactly – a million years ago. You’re going to be rusty by now.’

  Noelle shrieked with outrage and started chasing her sister around the garden. The twins joined in, one siding with Noelle, the other with Daisy, lifting the small teenager up and putting her in the tree by the fence.

  I smiled at the sight of Noelle, surrounded by her brothers and her little sister. Despite the teasing, it was clear there was affection overflowing between them all. She was in her element and I wondered why she would have chosen not to be with them at Christmas time last year. It didn’t make sense to me and I wanted her to explain it. I wanted to know it all.

  But not get punched in the kidneys for asking.

  I had no choice but to abandon Stephen amidst my family. I should have warned him that this was what always happened once I got home. My time was constantly commandeered to help out with chores or to look after kids or catch up with a relative I hadn’t seen enough of recently.

  While I was in the kitchen with Mom, he played baseball with my little sister and brothers. I think there was some confusion about the rules surrounding the batting, but he was good-natured about it. The control-freak image I had of him, the ultra-competitive, city slicker was fading the more I got to know him. Some of those traits were there, without a doubt, but there was more to him than that.

  I found him when it was time to eat and he was hot and sweaty in a very pleasant way. We fetched some of the meat from the grill and sat side by side on a sun lounger in the shade beside the deck, while my family filled up the garden, standing around with their paper plates, chatting and chowing down on burgers and ribs. We didn’t really talk but it was relaxing just to be surrounded by the burble of friendly conversation, the sun shining overhead and my stomach full of Dad’s delicious harissa marinade barbecue.

  I got called to oversee the chicken so Dad could eat, and I saw him make a beeline to sit with Stephen but get pulled over to talk to my uncle instead.

  It was a relief. I knew Stephen was doing fine, being friendly and joining in, but Dad had a way of putting people on edge and Stephen had only just wound down after the hostile encounter with his father’s ex-girlfriend. I didn’t want Dad to get the wrong impression of him. Purely because I wanted him to help him out…although, now we were finding our feet a little as friends I guessed it wouldn’t hurt to invite him over throughout the summer a couple more times. Staying in a strange city all by yourself must be lonely. There was the Fourth of July picnic next week we always had. It might be nice for him to join us there.

  And honestly, I’d never brought a man over to the house who settled in so well with everyone. He took time out to chat to Sam, who had a tendency to disappear inside himself after a couple of hours of socialising and I wondered if it was because he remembered what I’d said to him about Sam at the funfair. After that he joined Daisy taking turns playing keepy-uppy with a soccer ball. I nearly lost a whole chicken breast down the grate as I watched him showing her how to flip the ball up, bend forward and catch it behind his neck. It was written all over her face that he would be more than welcome at family gatherings again.

  By the time I was done with my turn on the grill, Stephen had disappeared inside, and I was called over to the table with Uncle Joe and Daisy and Sam for a game of poker. I decided to play a few hands with them, then go find Stephen and approach my dad to ask the favour, but Tim came over before I’d even placed my second bet.

  ‘You should go rescue your boyfriend.’ He leaned on the back of my garden chair, the sun-warmed plastic bowing under his weight.

  ‘He’s not my—’ I broke off and sighed. There was no point, so I shook my head and looked up at Tim. ‘Why, what’s wrong?’

  ‘Lucy has palmed the baby off on him and he looks frightened.’

  ‘Why didn’t you help him out? I don’t think he’s used to kids.’

  ‘Then I’d be stuck with the baby.’

  ‘She’s your niece,’ I exclaimed, outraged.

  ‘Yes. And I love her dearly. But I don’t want Delia getting all broody just yet thanks.’

  ‘Ugh. Here. You can take over for me.’ I thrust my cards at him and grabbed a glass of my mom’s special lemonade off the table to take with me into the house. Promising Daisy a rematch soon, I hurried inside.

  Stephen was at the back of the dining room, by the big old wooden table we’d had for years. As always, it was covered with books and paperwork and broken things, we hadn’t got around to fixing yet.

  He was staring down at my niece like if he looked away for a second, he’d be neglecting his duties. His shoulders were hunched but he had her securely – I could tell. She wiggled a bit and stared right back into his eyes, as though fascinated. Their dark colour probably was interesting to her. Babies focus best on contrast, plus everyone in our family had light eyes. She stretched out her tiny hand, waving it ineffectively at his face and blowing saliva bubbles.

  I paused in the doorway. I wanted to go closer, but a strange feeling gripped me, almost like fear. Something about this man, plus a baby, was making me feel odd. I hadn’t expected him to be good with kids. It didn’t fit logically with someone who was never going to settle down, did it?

  ‘Am I doing okay?’ he said quietly, almost under his breath and I blinked at him. Was he talking to me or the baby?

  ‘You’re doing great.’ I walked in and he jumped a little. He hadn’t been talking to me, which was a relief because it meant he hadn’t been aware of my miniature crisis…but also a little sad. He seemed to find it so hard to show any kind of vulnerability; the only person he could ask a question like that to was a baby who couldn’t give him an answer back.

  Part of me had wondered if that was because of his profession, where everyone had to appear so confident and infinitely capable, but now I knew what had happened with his family, I wondered if it was more to do with how young he’d been when he’d lost his father figure – figures in fact. First his real dad had walked, then his stepdad died, and now he’d lost his mom too, it was no wonder he’d retreated into this role of being in charge and looking after everyone else. And he didn’t see it at all. He thought of himself as a man holding himself back to protect others from his genetic predisposition to be a jerk.

  What an idiot. A goddamned adorable idiot.

  I smiled and allowed myself closer. ‘She’s not crying, is she? I mean if she cries that still doesn’t mean you are doing anything wrong but the fact that she’s not definitely means she’s comfortable. She’d tell you about it otherwise.’

  ‘Okay.’

  �
�You can relax. You’re not going to drop her. Unclench your muscles.’

  ‘Are you checking out my physique again?’ He flicked a quick glance at me, a hint of that devilish smile playing over his lips.

  ‘Only because you look like you’ve got rigor mortis.’

  ‘Ever the flatterer, Noelle.’

  ‘I consider it my life’s mission to prevent male egos from reaching an insufferable scale.’

  He relaxed his shoulders and shifted his arms a bit, brushing mine. I hadn’t realised I’d moved over so close and reached out to stroke the soft fuzz on Brigid’s head as though that was the reason, rather than this subconscious pull I had to be near him.

  ‘You do have a lot of brothers to keep in line. I suppose you’ll have a lot of these too.’ He gave her a little rock, to indicate that he meant the baby.

  A lump formed in my throat. ‘Unlikely.’

  ‘You don’t think your other siblings will have many kids?’

  ‘Oh, you meant nieces and nephews. I thought you…’ I trailed away awkwardly.

  ‘You thought I meant you? And you don’t think you’re going to have kids? You don’t want to?’

  ‘I don’t…’ I chewed my lip, ready to deflect him. To fob off the conversation like I did earlier, but he’d been so honest with me. Telling me about the shame he felt because of his lousy father walking out on him – I knew that was no small admission on his part. If we were really going to try to be friends, we should be able to talk about this sort of thing, shouldn’t we? ‘I don’t think I’m ever going to find the right person to have kids with.’

  ‘Why? I’m not trying to wind you up. I just don’t get why your family are all so obsessed with your love life. If I had a pound for every time someone has called me Type A today.’

  ‘I’ve not had much luck with dating, that’s all.’ I pressed my lips together and looked at him. He was like that famous poster, all handsome and paternal too, designed to detonate ovaries. It didn’t seem fair to be talking about these kinds of dreams while he was looking like that. ‘I’d love to have kids, but I want them with the support of a mythological man, who’ll understand that writing is my vocation, and as important as his work, and that we’d need to take care of the child-rearing duties fifty-fifty.’