Home for the Holidays
Page 13
Joe lingered for a moment after he’d packed the kids off to clean up and brush their teeth. “You handled him just right.”
“I treated him like any other apprentice.”
“Ah. Is that how you see us? As your apprentices?”
She shot him a look from beneath her eyelashes. “Not all of you. Some of you have more than your fair share of experience.”
He grinned. “I’m going to take that as a compliment.”
She frowned. “There’s no need to look so pleased about it.”
“I can’t help it. I’ve been staring at the ceiling all week thinking about Sunday night. It’s good to know I’m not the only one it left an impression on.”
She smiled ruefully. “Yeah, well, next time we decide to quit while we’re ahead, let’s quit while we’re ahead.”
She stooped to collect some discarded steel wool, and Joe stepped in front of her when she straightened.
She looked at him steadily. There was wariness in her eyes as well as frustrated desire. He couldn’t help himself—he ran his thumb along the slope of her cheekbone. Her breath caught, and her eyelids swept down over her eyes, hiding her reaction from him. But he knew. If he kissed her right now, it wouldn’t take much to get either of them back to the same hot, heavy place they’d been in his car the other night.
If only she wasn’t going away…
It was on the tip of his tongue to ask if she really had to go, if maybe she couldn’t delay her departure, hang around and explore this feeling between them.
But she’d been planning this trip for a long time. She’d told him over dinner how she’d already put it off once for her ex-fiancé. He couldn’t ask her to put it off again for him. What did he have to offer, after all? Neither of them had any idea what the future held. He couldn’t ask her to delay her dream on the chance that things might work out between them. And what were the odds of that? Her broken heart, his blighted one. His kids. Plus all the usual misapprehensions and problems most couples dealt with. It would be a miracle if they lasted a week.
She took a step backward.
“It’s not that I don’t want to kiss you again, but I’m really not into self-flagellation. I’m trying to be smart here,” she said.
“Yeah, I know.” He turned and started down the driveway. “Good night.”
“Thanks for the help with the bike,” she called after him.
He simply raised a hand in acknowledgment and kept walking. It wasn’t like he had much of a choice.
WHEN BEN AND RUBY WENT next door the following evening, Joe stayed behind, pleading bookwork for the pub as an excuse. It was too hard being near Hannah and not being able to touch her or look at her the way he wanted to.
He was hunched over the calculator, trying to reconcile the hard spirits inventory when he heard the front door open. He finished adding a column of figures, then glanced up to see Ruby standing in the doorway to the living room, her face twisted with emotion.
“She’s going,” she said. “She’s leaving next week!” She hurled herself across the room and into his arms, pressing her face into his neck.
He closed his arms around her and cupped the back of her head with his hand.
“It’s okay, Rubes.”
“I don’t want her to go.”
“I know. But we always knew Hannah was heading off on her big trip, didn’t we?”
“But I didn’t think it would be for ages and ages. I don’t want her to go.”
He didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t make promises on Hannah’s behalf. He had no idea when she planned to come back, or if she planned to come back at all. He suspected Hannah didn’t know herself. That was part of the appeal of the open road.
He heard the sound of the front door opening again and a couple of seconds later Ben entered the living room, Hannah hard on his heels. She looked stricken when she saw Ruby in his arms.
“Oh, man,” Ben said, his voice filled with brotherly disdain for his sister’s tears.
“She’ll be all right,” Joe said to Hannah. “I think you just took her by surprise.”
“I didn’t mean to upset you, Rubester,” Hannah said. “I thought you knew I was going soon.”
Ruby spoke into his shirtfront. “I did. But I don’t want you to go.”
Hannah met his eyes over Ruby’s head.
“I wish I could stay, sweetheart. But this is something I’ve dreamed of doing ever since I was your age. I’ve been collecting maps and tourist guides for years and years.”
“I know. You showed them to me, remember?” Ruby said.
“That’s right. I forgot. Look, it’s not like I’ll be gone forever. I’ll come back. My mom lives right next door—I have to come back or she’ll kill me.”
He glanced down and saw that Ruby was smiling a little now.
“Will you send me postcards?”
“Every week,” Hannah said. “I promise.”
Finally Ruby pushed away from his chest. He loosened his arms and she turned to face Hannah.
“What’s going to happen to the Thunderbird while you’re gone?”
“I’m going to pack the parts away so that I can take them to be rechromed when I come home. You can help me put it together when it’s all done, if you like. That’s if you’re not too busy doing your nails and going shopping by the time I return.”
“I can do both,” Ruby said.
“Good. Because I’d miss having my ace right-hand woman working beside me.” Hannah paused to eye Ruby carefully. “So are we okay?”
Ruby shrugged her shoulder in perfect imitation of Hannah. “Yeah.” She walked across the room and wrapped her arms around Hannah’s waist, laying her head against Hannah’s hip. “It’s going to be weird without you.”
Hannah blinked rapidly. “Yeah.”
Joe became aware of Ben standing to one side, the expression on his face an odd mixture of scorn and envy as he watched Hannah embrace his sister. Joe had a sudden memory of Beth sitting on the couch, Ben snuggled in her arms as she read him a book. She’d been a very demonstrative woman, warm and affectionate. Kisses and cuddles before bedtime, the casual brush of a hand over one of her children’s heads when they passed in the hallway, tickle wrestling on the living room rug.
Ben missed being held by his mother, just as Ruby clearly craved a woman’s touch. For a moment Joe felt heavy with regret. There were so many losses he could never hope to replace, too many gaps in their lives for him to even come close to filling them all.
“I was thinking that maybe before you go I could go for a ride around the block on your bike,” Ruby said. She kept her voice carefully innocent, but she knew what she was asking.
For a second he locked eyes with Hannah. Her lips twitched into a smile, and he couldn’t help but respond.
“Nice try, sweetheart,” Hannah said.
“I couldn’t have put it better myself,” he said.
“You are such a doofus, Ruby. No way is Dad going to let you go on a motorbike,” Ben chipped in, but even he was smiling at Ruby’s opportunistic audacity.
“It was worth a try.” Ruby’s grin was cheeky.
“Yes, it was,” Joe agreed. “Now, who wants a hot chocolate before bed?”
“Me. But I want double marshmallows,” Ruby said, twisting away from Hannah and racing for the kitchen.
Ben wasn’t far behind her. “I’m measuring out the cocoa. You mucked it up last time.”
Joe looked to Hannah. “Can we tempt you?”
She was silent for a shade too long. “Thanks, but I’d better go. Maybe another time.”
“Sure.”
He pushed his disappointment aside. Hadn’t he decided to minimize his contact with her before she left for the sake of his own sanity? And yet here he was, leaping on the first opportunity to prolong her visit. He was as bad as Ruby, a desperate opportunist.
He followed Hannah to the door. “I take it you’re leaving next weekend?” he asked.
She nodd
ed. “Saturday.”
“Right.”
Another long silence.
“I’d better go,” she said.
“Okay.”
When she turned away, her movements were jerky, almost as though it had taken an effort to drag herself away.
He closed the door after her, staring at the wooden surface blindly.
One more week, then she’d be gone.
Damn.
THE FOLLOWING FRIDAY NIGHT, Hannah checked her camping gear one last time before strapping it to the accessory rack she’d bought for the back of her bike. Her mother stood to one side of the garage, arms crossed tightly over her body.
“I can’t believe you’re really going. You’ve talked about this for so many years, and now this is finally it,” her mom said.
“Yep.”
“What time are you leaving tomorrow?”
“Ten. Traffic should be fairly light heading north.”
Her mother pressed her lips together, but Hannah could see she was close to tears.
“Mom, I’ll call every week, I promise.”
“I know. It’s just been lovely having you back home again.”
Hannah hid her smile. She’d hardly been the most gracious houseguest, but her mother was feeling sentimental and there was no point letting the facts get in the way of a good farewell.
“It’s been great being here. You’ve been a lifesaver, Mom.” Her mother waved a hand dismissively, but Hannah could see she was pleased.
“I must admit, I was holding out hope that something might happen to give you an incentive to stay.”
Her mother’s gaze was assessing. Hannah busied herself checking the oil level on the bike.
“Fine,” her mother said. “Make me come right out and ask, then. Is anything happening with Joe or not?”
“He’s got two kids to consider and I’m hitting the road. What do you think?”
“I think you should hang around and see what happens.”
Hannah screwed the cap back on the oil tank. “I can’t.”
“Australia will still be out there in six months’ time.”
Hannah turned on her mother. “And what if it doesn’t work out again? What if I’m not the woman Joe thinks I am or something else goes wrong? Am I supposed to pick myself up and dust myself off all over again?”
“You’re scared.” Her mother said the words as if they were a huge revelation.
“Of course I’m scared. I’d be stupid if I wasn’t. We’re supposed to learn from past mistakes, aren’t we?”
Hannah’s mother smiled sadly. “Loving someone is always a risk, sweetheart. That’s why it’s so exciting and terrifying all at the same time.”
“Right now I’m willing to pass on the excitement if it means I don’t have to put up with the terrifying.”
“If you could see the way Joe looks at you when you’re not watching…”
Hannah’s chest tightened. She took a deep breath. “Mom, I don’t want to talk about it. I’ve made my decision, I’ve said my goodbyes. I’m leaving tomorrow.”
Her mother flinched and Hannah knew she’d hurt her feelings.
“Okay. Well, I’ll leave you to it and I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Mom…”
“It’s okay, Hannah, I understand.”
Hannah kissed her good-night and gave a sigh of relief when her mother had disappeared into the house and she was once again alone. She couldn’t wait to be on the road, all of this far, far behind her.
Maybe that made her a coward, but so be it. She wasn’t ready to risk her heart again. Especially with a man who almost definitely hadn’t come to terms with his grief for his dead wife.
She checked a few more last-minute things then went in to the house. She’d written out a detailed outline of her proposed route and a bunch of contact numbers for her mother, and she stuck the page to the fridge with a magnet. Then she went to her bedroom and sorted her rucksack. She was traveling light by necessity: a few pairs of jeans, underwear, a swimsuit, T-shirts, a couple of warm sweaters. If she needed anything else, she’d simply buy it on the road.
Satisfied she had everything in order, she shed her clothes, brushed her teeth and crawled into bed. She wasn’t even close to being able to sleep, however. Her thoughts kept circling around tomorrow, her last goodbyes, the first hours on the road. She planned to camp at Albury her first night before making her way to Eden on the New South Wales coast. She’d check out the scene there, spend a few days fishing and swimming, then head north again.
It would be good. Free, easy. At last she’d get a chance to see the country the way she’d always wanted to.
She rolled onto her side and stared into the darkness.
I wish he’d never kissed me. I wish he was just a man with two kids and a dead wife who happened to live next door.
But Joe had kissed her, and he’d become more than her neighbor. A lot more.
“So stupid,” she muttered.
She’d known she was going on this trip, so why on earth would she start feeling something for a man she was always going to leave behind? It was dumb, plain old dumb.
Eventually she fell asleep but she woke feeling gritty-eyed and grumpy. Her stomach was tense with nerves and she had to force herself to eat a decent breakfast. As ten o’clock drew closer she grew more and more nervous, her gaze darting to her watch every few minutes.
Ruby had made a point of saying she’d be over at ten to see her off. Hannah was dreading saying goodbye to her little buddy. She was also terrified Ruby would be accompanied by her father. She didn’t trust herself not to say or do something embarrassing and revealing. Like throw herself at him and ask him to tell her to stay.
She was in the garage tugging on her leather jacket when Ruby appeared. Joe was with her, and Ben. A lump formed in the back of Hannah’s throat.
“Hey,” she said. Somehow her voice sounded normal, even though her throat felt constricted.
“We bought you a going-away present,” Ruby said.
“You didn’t have to do that.” She looked to Joe, frowning. “You guys have given me enough already—the perfume, all the help with the bike.”
Joe lifted a shoulder. “Don’t look at me. It was Ruby and Ben’s idea.”
“Here,” Ruby said, holding out a neatly wrapped parcel.
Hannah accepted the parcel. “You guys,” she said, shaking her head in admonishment.
Ruby moved closer and Hannah could feel the little girl watching and waiting for her reaction. Hannah eased the tape free of the paper and didn’t have to feign appreciation when she saw what they’d bought her: a pair of beautiful leather motorcycle gloves, complete with high-end carbon knuckle guards.
“Thank you. These are wonderful.”
Ruby looked at her brother. “You were right,” she said, resigned. She turned back to Hannah to explain. “I wanted to get you more perfume but Ben thought you’d prefer these.”
“Perfume would have been lovely but these are perfect, Ben. Thank you.”
Ben’s cheeks were a fiery red as he shuffled his feet, the picture of teen discomfort. “It was just an idea, that’s all.”
“A great idea. I love them. They’re miles better than my old gloves.”
She ceremoniously picked up her old ones and flung them onto the workbench at the back of the garage. Ruby and Ben both looked thrilled by the gesture. Joe simply watched, his face utterly impassive. She flicked him a quick glance, then looked away again.
“I have something for you guys, too. Nothing fancy, but I thought it might be fun for you to keep track of where I’m going on a map.”
Hannah collected the small bag of supplies she’d put together and offered it to Ruby.
“There are some pushpins in there and a big map of Australia. I figured each time one of my postcards arrive you and Ben could stick a pin in the map and keep track of my progress.”
Ruby clutched the bag to her chest. “Thank you.”
Hannah sank to one knee and opened her arms and Ruby stepped into them for one last hug.
“You’ve been great. The best apprentice ever,” Hannah said.
Ruby sniffed and nodded her head. With a shuddery sigh she stepped back, using her forearm to wipe her eyes.
Hannah glanced at Ben but his body language told her he wouldn’t welcome a hug the way his sister had. She held out her clenched hand instead and they bumped fists.
She flicked another look at Joe. He was staring at the ground, his mouth a firm, straight line. There was no way she was hugging or kissing him in front of his kids. There was nothing platonic or friendly about their relationship.
Because she didn’t know how to say goodbye to him, she zipped her jacket and reached for her new gloves.
“I guess I’d better get this show on the road.”
Her mother came out of the house, a wad of tissues clutched in one hand.
“Don’t start, or you’ll set me off,” Hannah said. “I’ll call you from Albury, okay?”
“Don’t forget. And I want weekly updates.”
“I promise.”
Hannah flexed her hands in her new gloves, smiling to show Ben and Ruby how much she appreciated them. She slid her helmet on, pushing the visor up. “Okay. I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.”
Ruby moved closer to her father, reaching for his hand. Hannah turned the key to start the bike. The engine fired and she rocked the bike off its stand.
She was acutely aware that she and Joe had barely exchanged a word. She had no idea what he was thinking or feeling, if the uncertainty and regret she felt were one-sided or shared. For a moment she hesitated, gripped by the urge to say something, anything to connect with him.
But he wasn’t rushing forward to talk to her. Hadn’t even offered her his hand or his best wishes.
She twisted the throttle, and the bike rolled out of the garage and into the street. Joe and his kids and her mother walked after her. She paused for a moment, one foot on the ground, and glanced over her shoulder. She lifted her hand in a last farewell. Her mother mopped at her tears with the tissues. Ben stood off to one side, a frown on his face. Ruby had turned her face into her father’s belly, her arms wrapped around his waist. Joe’s attention was on his daughter. He didn’t so much as glance up.