Mr. Imperfect

by Karina Bliss

  She gave him a wan smile. “I think prayers at this point might be more useful.”

  “You’ve got those, too.”

  KEZIA PAUSED IN FRONT OF the beige door to Marion’s private room, and pasted a smile on her face.

  Since Christian had left her standing gob-smacked on the doorstep, her emotions had gone from incredulity to a profound hurt that he would play her like this. So he would sacrifice himself for her, would he? Be the martyr he accused her of being. At least she didn’t have to marry anyone to salve her conscience.

  With an effort she pulled herself together and knocked on the door with her good hand. Later she’d deal with Kelly. Right now he was distracting her from what was really important. She pushed the door open with a cheery, “It’s me,” saw Christian standing by the bed, and the smile fell off her face. For the life of her she couldn’t retrieve it.

  Instead she managed a croaky, “Hi,” crossed to the bed and kissed Marion. “John Jason sent this picture for you. I have to warn you, it looks like you’re hanging from a clothesline.” Ignoring Christian, she busied herself with pinning the picture where Marion could look at it.

  “We’ve just been discussing him,” Christian said.

  “I want you to take John Jason home.” Marion’s voice was stronger than Kezia had heard it in a week. “You can bring him back weekends to visit.”

  Kezia’s mouth went dry. “Look, I know he said he hated day care this morning but he was cross with me. And I can’t leave you until we know…until you’re in the clear.”

  “I’ll make sure Sally rings if there’s any news.” Marion’s voice softened. “Kezia, you’re the only one I’d entrust my baby to. You desperately need a break, and with Sally here, you can take one.”

  A suspicion occurred to Kezia. “Did Christian say that?”

  “No, he let me say that—and without arguing.” Suddenly her friend sounded exhausted.

  Stricken, Kezia stroked Marion’s arm. “Sorry.” With a massive effort she dredged up another smile. “If that’s what you want, then of course I’ll do it.”

  “I knew you wouldn’t let me down.”

  “I’ll ring Don tonight to come get us.”

  “No need.” Christian cleared his throat. “I’m going with you, to help out with John Jason.”

  “What?”

  “You have no idea,” said Marion, closing her eyes to signal an end to the conversation, “how that puts my mind at rest.”

  Kezia bit down on her tongue until she tasted blood.

  “Another thing.” Marion opened her eyes a crack. “Save on motel bills and stay at Christian’s tonight.”

  Christian’s blink of surprise saved him from certain death but Kezia’s forbearance had reached its limit. “He’s more than happy to pay for the motel, aren’t you?” Her murderous tone suggested he concur; he murmured assent.

  “Yes, but I don’t want to be indebted to him more than I need to be.” Lids closed again, Marion’s features assumed a Madonna’s peacefulness. “You of all people would understand that.”

  By the time Kezia thought of a comeback, her friend was asleep—or pretending to be. Frustrated, she jerked a thumb toward the door. Outside! she mouthed to Christian.

  In the corridor she grabbed the front of his expensive shirt and swung him against the wall. “You lousy son of a bitch. Manipulating Marion to push us together.”

  “I can see why you’d think that,” he conceded, passive in her grasp. “It isn’t true.”

  “Whose idea was it I take John Jason home?”

  Hesitation. “Mine but—”

  “Bastard!” Releasing her hold, she stormed toward Marion’s room. Christian grabbed her by the shirttail.

  “She’s worried about you…have you looked in a mirror lately? You’re exhausted. Yet she knows her kid would be better off at home and you’re the one she trusts. She’s ready to deal directly with the doctors now. What would you have suggested?”

  She hated self-pity, but she was too tired to fight it. “I really tried to make things easier. Now you’re telling me I’ve failed.”

  “No.” He reeled her back, grabbed her unresisting body and held tight. “You succeeded. Relying on you has made her strong enough to reclaim some independence. And to look out for the people she loves.”

  The only reason she leaned against his long, hard body was that she needed the rest. “I’ve got to tell her how John Jason feels about me.”

  “No, you don’t. That’s one of the reasons I’m coming with you, to act as a go-between. That, and to make sure you look after that arm.” His tone grew gentle. “Let’s face it, you’ve been putting out one fire after another since Muriel died.”

  Not all the fires were out, though. The thought galvanized Kezia to shrug free, address the real issue between them. “I’m not marrying you, Christian. Let me be quite clear on that.”

  “You’re clear.” His face gave nothing away, making Kezia even more nervous. She desperately needed a renunciation.

  “You only want to marry me to ease your conscience.”

  “I hadn’t thought of that.” He considered. “Nope, that’s bullshit.”

  Too tired for this, she changed the subject. “I can’t leave Marion yet. Not until I know her prognosis.”

  “And if Sally picks another fight? Yeah, I heard about that one, too. Do you really want Marion to lose her only sister? Because she will choose you, Kez.”

  “Oh, will she?” The female voice bristled with hostility. Kezia looked around to see Sally, arms folded defensively, blond hair drawn into a ponytail as tight as her expression.

  Kezia went to stand beside her. “We don’t know who Marion would choose,” she admonished Christian. “And Sally and I have already agreed not to force the issue.”

  Sally stepped away. “You mean, you fell back on emotional blackmail. Well, be warned, when Marion’s well enough, I’m going to encourage her to sue you for every cent you’ve got.”

  “Here, take them now.” Kezia opened her purse, shook out some coins. “Two dollars and twenty-five cents.”

  “Very funny. I know you own the Waterview hotel.”

  Kezia looked to Christian. “Do I?”

  “I sent the deed through on Wednesday.”

  “You know I haven’t thought about it in a week.” She looked at Sally. “If you’re sure you want it…I’m sorry, I’m forgetting my manners. You remember Christian Kelly, don’t you?”

  Sally blushed. “Are you trying to be funny?”

  “Don’t you remember?” Christian prompted Kezia. “I…we used to…know each other. It ended badly, didn’t it? Sorry, Sal. And I’m the person to sue, not Kez. I was the owner of the hotel at the time and I stopped work on the renovations. I’ve already told Marion I accept all responsibility. Meanwhile I’ll cover all costs, including your flight and hotel expenses.”

  For a moment Sally stood nonplussed. “Screw you,” she said and went into Marion’s room.

  Christian stared after her. “Didn’t I just do the right thing?”

  “Wait here.” Kezia followed Sally into the room, saw her bent over Marion, love and concern in every line. Then Sally caught sight of Kezia and her expression hardened.

  Kezia steeled herself. “I’ve come to say good-night.” She kissed Marion tenderly. “And goodbye, until next weekend.”

  “You’re leaving?” Sally couldn’t hide her satisfaction.

  Marion spoke for her. “I’ve asked Kezia to take John Jason home.”

  Sally said nothing and Kezia breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe Christian had done some good then, in accepting responsibility. From her bag she took out a scrap of paper, scrawled all her numbers on it, and handed it over to Sally. “Will you call me if there’s news?”

  “Of course she will,” Marion answered.

  Kezia waited until Sally reluctantly nodded. “Okay then, see you in six days.” She touched Marion’s cheek, took a deep breath and walked away.

  Behind her
, Sally moved out of Marion’s line of sight and dropped the piece of paper in the bin.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  “NICE PLACE.” Realizing the understatement would alert Christian to her nervousness, Kezia tightened her grip on his house key until it bit into her palm. Tried again. “Actually, it’s fantastic.” And not what she expected. Not stark, minimalist or sterile.

  The entry foyer opened into a generous living room and the last of the sun’s rays glowed on butterscotch walls and warmed the terra-cotta floor tiles. Luxurious sofas were set off by textured drapes and deep Turkish rugs. Beyond floor-to-ceiling windows, the Auckland Harbor stretched to a violet horizon. It was exactly like looking at the Plains, except in blue.

  She opened the oak door wider and stepped aside to let Christian pass, a sleeping John Jason cradled in his arms. She quashed an impulse to jolt the child awake. Kezia hated being alone with Christian on his turf.

  “You can come in, you know.” Kezia became aware of Christian watching, and stepped forward, pulling her battered suitcase. The ancient wheels gave voice to her reluctance.

  She’d delayed this moment as long as possible, lingering at the restaurant he’d taken them to for dinner until the waitress had mentioned how much their son looked like his mother.

  “I thought you and John Jason could sleep through here.” Her tension eased—and that annoyed her. Given her emphatic rejection of his proposal, he was hardly going to expect to share a bed, now was he? The room she followed him to was a neutral canvas of whites and blues with no imprint of its owner. Good.

  She pulled back the duvet on one of the two single beds then slipped off John Jason’s trainers. Christian laid him down gently and, with a sigh, the child burrowed under the covers. Across the bed they shared an involuntary smile and Kezia’s nervousness came back. “I think I’ll turn in, too.”

  “At eight-thirty? Relax, Kezia. I can’t make you do anything you don’t want to.” Strangely she didn’t find that reassuring. “And we need to talk—”

  “It’s still no, Christian.”

  “About practicalities.”

  “Oh.” Feeling a fool, she followed him through the living room and into a kitchen, more like the one she’d imagined for him. Beautiful, clear of clutter and obviously barely used. Christian opened a cupboard and pulled out a battered copper saucepan, switched on the gas hob. “Hot chocolate?”

  “Sure.” She watched him measure in the milk, the powdered chocolate, gently stir the contents. “Mugs to your right, marshmallows in the pantry in front.”

  Okay, maybe he had one or two domestic skills. The pantry held more than she expected, including a few herbs she’d only read about in cuisine magazines. “You cook?”

  “I’m competent.”

  “Who taught you?”

  “I dated a chef once.”

  “Figures.” Kezia took a seat at the marble island that separated the kitchen and dining room. “Do you even have any male friends?”

  He poured the hot milk into the mugs, added marshmallows. “I’ve known my two business partners since university. What are you telling me, your boyfriends never taught you any life skills?”

  She thought about that. “Chess, how to change a tire and do my own oil change. Bill was very knowledgeable about wine.”

  “See, there’s a positive in every relationship, even with William J. Rankin the Third.” Kezia didn’t rise to the bait, simply took the hot drink he passed over. He came around and took the stool beside her. Hardly threatening behavior, yet she stiffened. “You know what your legacy was?”

  She regarded him warily over the rim of her mug. “Bitterness? Mistrust?”

  “Self-belief,” he said quietly. “You were the only person who bought into my dreams and made me believe them.” His gaze flicked around the room, came back to her. “In a real sense I owe all this to you.”

  The gift, unexpected and generous, compelled an honest response. “Because you had no expectations of how I should behave, I could play at being different people, find out who I wanted to be…an uptight, orderly chocoholic.”

  He didn’t laugh, simply opened a drawer in the island and passed her an open bar of Toblerone. She took a piece. “You see, before I came to Waterview I was used to people who expected—”

  “Sacrifice.”

  “Support,” she corrected. A lifetime of practice meant she could skirt around sore spots blindfolded. Still she slipped off the stool, putting some space between them. “Of course, it was easy for you to encourage my independence. You didn’t need me.”

  “I pretended not to.”

  Annoyed, Kezia tipped the rest of her drink into the sink. “Strange you couldn’t say any of this last weekend.”

  “I needed time to get my priorities straight. I came back to try again before I heard about Marion’s accident.”

  “For all I know you might really have been coming back to check up on renovations. Hell, you might have forgotten a pair of socks.” Her mug hit the counter with a sharp crack. “Excuse me if I don’t trust your sudden change of heart.”

  “What about yours?” he challenged. “Last week you loved me, this week you don’t?”

  “Last weekend I was dreaming and Marion’s accident was a wake-up call. There are a hundred reasons we wouldn’t work out.”

  “Name them.”

  “Our history is heartbreaking.”

  “Our future doesn’t have to be.”

  “I’m country. You’re city.”

  “We’ll have the best of both worlds.”

  “I want a man with no shadows. You live in them.”

  “I’ll buy sunblock.”

  He wasn’t taking this seriously. She took a deep breath. “We caused Marion’s accident.”

  “I caused it and she forgave me.” The blue of his eyes was clear all the way down to his soul. “You could forgive me too.”

  Kezia started to feel desperate. “I want to be a good person. You make me selfish.”

  “I want to be selfish,” he said slowly. “You make me a better person.”

  “I want lots of kids.”

  “After I’ve grieved for the one we lost.”

  “No, Christian.” Kezia could hear her voice getting panicky. “No. I don’t like the person I am with you.”

  “I love you, Kez, and I’m not losing you again.”

  Her hands gripped the edge of the counter. She had no faith anymore—not in him—not in her own ability to make a difference. “I don’t trust your love.”

  He didn’t even flinch. “Why would you? I’ve never given you cause to. You know what’s always stopped me in the past? Fear of failure. Well, I’m tired of losing you to that.”

  As she stared at him helplessly, a wail came from the bedroom. “I wet the bed!”

  Later Kezia watched night tick away on the luminous green dial of the bedside clock and worked on her strategy. She’d play up her injury, load Christian down with responsibilities, drown him in the minutiae of her day-to-day life. Having to perform good deeds would snap him back into reality quick enough.

  Her thoughts turned to Marion. She wondered if her friend was sleeping or lying awake in the darkness, too, scared and lonely. Full of self-loathing, Kezia buried her face in the pillow.

  “SO HOW’S YOUR WOOIN’ DOIN’?”

  Christian jammed the mobile phone between his ear and a shoulder and reached into the back of Kezia’s old station wagon for two insulated containers, one from the lunch pile, one from the dinner pile. “She’s still trying to shake me off with the twelve tasks of Hercules.”

  On the other end of the line, Jordan laughed. “What are you doing today…strangling lions or killing a nine-headed monster?”

  “Delivering golden apples to the ancients. Meals-On-Wheels.”

  Christian had to put down the containers and hold the phone away. With the other hand he waved an acknowledgment to Bernice May who sat on the love seat on her front porch. “Give me a minute,” he called.

>   Her foot began to tap impatiently. “You’re already twenty minutes late,” she yelled back. “My blood sugar’s lower than a politician’s IQ.”

  “Blame Kez’s rust bucket!” He returned the phone to his ear. Jordan was still laughing. Christian punished him by ringing off, picked up the containers and made for the porch.

  “Where’s your fancy car?” the old lady demanded.

  “Not enough boot space.”

  “Humph. All that money for no storage.”

  “Bernice May, you don’t buy a Ferrari for its storage capacity. Besides, you think I want it smelling of breaded chicken with mushroom gravy?”

  “Mushrooms! I hate those damn things.”

  “Pick ’em out.”

  “What’s for dessert?”

  He grinned. “A fig bar.”

  “Isn’t it enough that they take out the salt and fat without trying to make me regular, as well?”

  Christian’s phone rang, saving him from having to answer that one. “Excuse me a minute.”

  “Give the food here,” she grumbled, taking it from him. “I’ll put it in the kitchen and fix a drink. Cup of tea?”

  “Sounds great.” He waited till she left. “Okay, Jordan, I know I have to put up with some ribbing while you cover my job and Luke’s, but give me a break.”

  “It’s me,” said Luke. “Jordan’s still laughing. And I’m back at work—at least until you get the girl. Then, well, I need to talk to you about that. We thought we’d drive down tomorrow.”

  “Sure.” Christian’s interest was piqued. “But make it evening. In the morning I’m dropping Kez off at a town council meeting, then delivering Meals-On-Wheels. In the afternoon there’s preschool with John Jason, site supervision and building a tree house. After dinner I’ve got bell-ringing practice at church.” He sighed. “I’ve booked extra training. I refuse to be lousy at pulling a goddamn bell rope.”

  Luke started laughing. Christian cursed him and he laughed harder. Jordan came back on the line. “Is she worth it?”

  “I’m starting to wonder.” His voice was grim. “In the four days here she’s kept me so busy doing good I’ve hardly seen her. Listen, Jord, I need a favor…yeah, I know—another one. Our friend in hospital, there has to be more news on her prognosis by now but we’re getting stonewalled by her sister. Looks like we’ll get nothing until we visit this weekend, and we’re both climbing the walls.”