by Joan Kilby
When she still didn’t drink, he leaned closer and whispered in her ear, “Of course you don’t have to have wine, but it might help you loosen up.”
With Jack’s friends openly and unabashedly watching the exchange, she really had no choice. Frankly, she could use a little false courage right about now. Glancing around the table, Sienna lifted her glass. “Cheers.”
With her first sip the other guests seemed to relax and conversation resumed. Everyone talked at once, reminding Sienna of those movies she loved about big happy gatherings of family and friends at Christmas or Thanksgiving. A bowl of rice and fragrant chicken curry was passed down the table to her. Condiments and water, cutlery, a linen napkin all came her way in a haphazard fashion.
With the attention moved away from her and Jack, Sienna was able to study her fellow dinner guests. There was Sharon, short, blonde and vivacious, and her husband, Glenn, easygoing and athletic-looking with close-cropped red hair. Ron was stocky with a shaved head that effectively disguised a balding pate. Diane had spiky hennaed hair and a husky voice. That left Jack, Lexie and Renita. Lexie looked to be older and was very pretty. Renita had a warmth about her that was instantly engaging. Both seemed to have an intimate claim on Jack, frequently sending him glances and exchanging teasing comments with him.
Which was his girlfriend?
Not that it mattered one iota to her. She was just curious.
She spooned some of the light coconut broth swimming with chicken. She looked at Jack in amazement. “This is delicious. Better than any meal I’ve had in a Thai restaurant.”
“As good as yours would have been?” he inquired.
“I don’t know about that,” she demurred, then decided to slip in a mention of Oliver just to get it out of the way. “My son will be forever grateful he didn’t have to eat something ‘weird.’”
“Your son?”
“Oliver. He’s fourteen.” She saw the unspoken question in Jack’s eyes and steeled herself. “I’m divorced.” She glanced away. Every time she spoke those words it felt like an admission of failure.
“I’m a widower.”
His low voice touched something inside her and her gaze found his again. “I’m sorry.” A flash of something—empathy over life’s disappointments, the cruelty of tragedy—connected them for a moment.
Then Jack shrugged, a tiny gesture that carried him from the unalterable past back to the present. He looked around at his guests enjoying themselves and took a sip of wine. “Life goes on.”
Sienna breathed out. He was right. She was in a new place, starting afresh. “Yes, it does. Life goes on.”
He smiled. She smiled back. Comrades.
Finally she broke the silence with the first thing that came to mind. “So, Jack, what do you do for a living?”
“Nothing much.”
Sienna laughed, as no doubt she was supposed to. “No, really, what do you do?”
Before he could answer, Renita interrupted, swiveling on her chair to attract Sienna’s attention. “I love your pearls. They’re real, aren’t they?”
“Yes, they belonged to my grandmother.” Sienna ran her fingertips over the long strand self-consciously. “I can see I’m overdressed for the occasion.”
“You look amazing,” Renita insisted. “Doesn’t she, Jack?”
“Please…” Sienna began, feeling heat climb her cheeks.
Jack’s eyes rested on her. “You should see her with her hair down.”
“Ooh, yes! I’d like to see that,” Lexie said from across the table. Her chin rested in one palm as she imperiously waved a wineglass with her other hand. “Pull out those pins.”
Sienna laughed uncertainly and focused on her curry. “The Kaffir lime leaves really make a difference.” She had no idea what she was talking about, of course. She could still feel Jack’s gaze on her.
“Stop it, you guys, you’re making her uncomfortable.” Sharon came to her rescue. “Sienna, don’t mind these three. They tend to pounce on people and gobble them up. It means they like you.”
“These three?” For one wild moment she wondered if they were a ménage à trois. Had she stumbled into a hotbed of swinging in the suburbs? Then it dawned on her. The family resemblance. It was in the shape of their eyes and the fullness of the bottom lip. “You’re related?”
“Brother and sisters,” Ron told her. “They’re the evil threesome.”
Of course. Sienna glanced from Jack to Lexie to Renita. All three returned her smile. Brother and sisters.
To an only child the bond they shared represented the family love that had always been out of her reach. Her mother was a leader in cancer research and her father was a distinguished heart surgeon, both now working in America at the Mayo Clinic. When she was a child they’d rarely had time for her, while still expecting her to be an overachiever. Sienna had always wanted a sister or a brother. Or both.
She felt something loosen inside her that she didn’t understand but also didn’t want to examine too closely. Instead, she laughed. Beneath the table she kicked off her shoes.
“WHAT DO YOU DO, SIENNA?” Diane asked.
They’d gone around the table, filling Sienna in on themselves. She’d learned that Glenn and Sharon were both primary schoolteachers, Ron was a computer analyst, Diane was a planner for the municipality, Renita worked at the bank and Lexie was a portrait painter.
Lexie chimed in before Sienna could answer. “She could be an artist’s model. Look at that oval face and ivory skin. If she let her hair down she’d be Botticelli’s Venus. Pure pre-Raphaelite.”
“Botticelli’s Venus was blonde.” Sienna saw Renita topping up her wineglass and started to protest. Then she shrugged. She could always get a taxi.
“Sienna’s a pianist,” Jack asserted.
She jerked back with a surprised laugh. “I’m not! I can’t even play a kazoo.”
“A brain surgeon?” Jack’s alternative had the whole table in an uproar.
“Warmer,” Sienna said coyly. They all stopped laughing. Curious eyes were again trained on her, but now she was comfortable with it. “I’m a doctor. A GP.”
“Ahh.” Jack’s eyes lit with interest.
“I’ve got a pain in my stomach,” Ron called from across the table. “What would cause that, do you think?”
“Overeating, you oaf!” Diane nudged him with her elbow. “What about a pain in the butt? Oh, wait a minute, that’s my husband.”
Jack cleared his throat and swallowed experimentally, “I think I’m coming down with something. Could it be strep throat?”
Sienna eyed Jack’s healthy skin and clear, twinkling eyes skeptically. “I don’t do on-the-spot diagnoses. Come into the clinic and I’ll give you a thorough examination.”
A chorus of oohs from around the table greeted that remark. Sienna felt her blush rise from her neck all the way to the roots of her hair. “You know what I mean!”
“Seriously, are you taking new patients?” Jack asked. “My father’s doctor at the clinic retired and Steve needs a checkup.”
“Your father must have been seeing my predecessor. I’m taking on most of Dr. Klein’s patients. Tell your dad to call the clinic and make an appointment.”
“Thanks, I’ll pass that on.”
Ron got up to clear the empty dishes. Diane rose to help him, waving Sienna down when she started to get up, too. “Relax. We’ve got it.”
Sienna stacked her bowl into Jack’s and passed them both to Diane with a smile of thanks. Then she turned to Jack. “You never did say what you do for a living.”
Jack picked up the wine bottle. “Top you up?”
“I’m good, thanks.” This time she put her hand over her glass and kept it there.
“Jack manages his portfolio,” Lexie said, giving her brother an affectionate smirk. “Dirty capitalist pig that he is.”
Jack shot an answering grin across the table. “Who bails you out when you’re behind on your rent?”
“I’m having a show
next week at the Manyung Gallery.” Lexie sniffed. “Then we’ll see who’ll be bailing who out.”
Sienna smiled at the banter, but she’d noticed that Jack had again avoided answering her question. Both times she’d asked, one of his sisters had jumped in quickly to send the conversation in another direction. “So you’re between jobs?”
Jack smiled blandly at her, but a barrier came down over his eyes. “Not quite. I don’t work.”
For some reason an image of Oliver refusing to go to university flashed into her mind. Sienna shook her head, focusing on the man in front of her. “You must do something.”
Jack leaned back in his chair, one arm flung over the neighboring chair back, the image of relaxed good humor. Yet tension ran down his shoulder and into his fingers, which were pressed against the red painted wood so hard that the pale pink of his nail bed had turned white.
“He’s pretty busy cooking gourmet meals for us all,” Renita said.
“And he does a lot of outdoor sports,” Lexie added, getting up to finish clearing the table. “Kayaking, cycling, rock climbing, golf.”
“He also gives science presentations in schools,” Renita said. “Electronics mostly.”
So it was him. “Did you recently teach the grade nines at the high school how to build robots out of computer disks?” Sienna asked.
“That’s right.” Jack looked surprised for a second, then he grinned. “Don’t tell me your son is in that class.”
“Yes, and he’s your biggest fan.” She took a sip of water. “What else do you do?”
“I potter around in my shed next door.”
“Next door? Do you mean that huge corrugated iron building on the other side of the hedge?”
“This property is a double lot,” he explained. “The shed used to house farm machinery before the area became residential. I put in a concrete floor and a small kitchen for making coffee.”
“What do you do in there?” Sienna asked. “Do you have a small business?”
“Nothing like that. I was using it to build an ultralight aircraft. Now I mainly fix things,” Jack said. “Small stuff. Nothing interesting or important.”
“By the way, Jack,” Renita interrupted, “you said you’d help me improve my handicap. When are we heading to the links?”
Jack and Renita started talking golf. Renita asked if Sienna played, but she shook her head. Glenn and Sharon joined in, making a date for the four of them to have a round on Sunday afternoon.
Sienna rose to carry a serving bowl over to the kitchen where Lexie had taken over from Diane in loading the dishwasher. Jack had hobbies, but why was his profession—or lack of it—such a mystery? Digging for more information after that last evasion would be rude, so she said nothing, just rinsed the platters and handed them to Lexie to stack.
“Is there an apron?” Sienna asked. “I’ll wash the pots.”
“Oh, no, you won’t,” Lexie said. “We never do them the same night.” She tugged Sienna closer to the light over the stove. “Your hair is a lovely jumble of ocher, umber and burnt sienna. Rather appropriate, that last one.” Her small paint-stained hands hovered over Sienna’s head. “I’ve just got to see you with your hair down. Do you mind?” Without waiting for permission, she started pulling out the hairpins that held Sienna’s up-do in place.
Sienna jerked back. Some of her long fiery hair sprang free and fell in a heavy coil down her neck.
“Lexie!” Jack exclaimed as he came into the kitchen to put on the kettle for coffee. “What have I told you about manhandling people?” He added a warning to Sienna. “Next she’ll be feeling the shape of your skull.”
“She doesn’t mind. Do you, Sienna?” A pin fell from Lexie’s fingers and clattered onto the floor. “I’m looking for a sitter for the Archibald Prize portrait contest,” she explained. “You’d be perfect.”
“I…” Sienna glanced around. No one else was paying any attention, intent on the cake Diane had brought. Apparently among this group of friends, such familiar behavior, even to a newcomer, wasn’t out of the ordinary.
Lexie took out the last of the pins and Sienna’s hair sprang loose in a cascade of long curls around her face and down her back. “Wow.”
“To tell you the truth, this is a relief.” Sienna pushed her hands through her hair to massage her scalp.
Jack, attempting to plug the kettle in, jabbed at the outlet blindly as he stared at her. He might well be surprised, she thought. When he’d seen her earlier her hair had been tied back in a ponytail.
Lexie enthusiastically plunged her fingers straight into the springy mass. “It’s so thick and silky. Jack, feel it.”
“No,” Sienna started to protest, embarrassed, but Jack already had his fingers in her hair.
“Nice.” His eyes were on hers, and his thumb made contact with the tender skin behind her ear. He stroked just once, lightly. “Very nice.”
Her breath jammed in her lungs. She couldn’t look away from his gaze. If Lexie hadn’t been standing right there, she would have half expected him to kiss her.
“How’s that coffee coming?” Glenn called. “Sharon’s mum is minding the kids and she swears she turns into a pumpkin at midnight.”
“Coming right up.” Jack removed his hand, squeezed her shoulder and went to the cupboard for cups.
Sienna let her breath out. Now she was aware of her heart pounding. She went back to the table to find that everyone had shifted places and broken into smaller groups to chat. At Diane’s encouraging smile she dropped into an empty chair between her and Sharon and the pair included her in their conversation about gardening. Discussing new varieties of drought-tolerant plants was a relief after the charged atmosphere in the kitchen.
Gradually Sienna relaxed again. But every time she glanced up she caught Jack’s eye. He was sitting across from her now. She could swear he was keeping one ear open to her conversation, just as she was with his talk with Ron and Glenn about the marine life he’d seen while diving on the Great Barrier Reef.
His recent travels explained why she’d never run into him in the village until today. He certainly seemed to have a lot of time on his hands. She told herself it shouldn’t bother her that he didn’t work, but it did. Coming from a long line of high achievers, she had a strong work ethic deeply ingrained in her. Jack was only in his mid to late thirties, healthy, intelligent, not handicapped in any way. There must be more to the story than met the eye. At least, she hoped so.
SHORTLY AFTER MIDNIGHT Jack walked Renita to where she’d parked her BMW a couple of doors down. The night was balmy with the scent of jasmine drifting on the light breeze. A half-moon, very bright in the clear sky, hung above the treetops. Everyone but Sienna had already left. She was in the house, calling a taxi. He hoped to have a few minutes with her before the cab came.
“I’ll pick you up for golf tomorrow at one-thirty,” he said to Renita as she unlocked her door. “Maybe you can look over the prospectus for that investment company I’m interested in and tell me what you think.”
“Sure thing. Great dinner tonight, as usual.” Renita hugged him and slid into the driver’s seat. She rolled down the window and Jack leaned down. “She’s nice.”
“She is,” Jack agreed. There was no doubt who they were talking about. “I’m not sure she approves of me.”
“You’re too sensitive, Jack.”
“She’s a doctor. You know what they’re like. Life revolves around work.”
“Yes, she’s a doctor. That’s a good thing.” Renita turned the key in the ignition and the motor purred to life. She put the car in gear. “Maybe she’ll heal you.”
Jack stepped back from the curb as Renita drove off. He watched the red taillights disappear around the corner, then he turned and walked back to the house. He was sure Sienna was highly competent with diseases of the body; possibly she even had knowledge of illnesses of the mind. But his sickness was in his soul.
While he craved company, he shunned true intimacy. He knew t
hat about himself and accepted it with a clear-eyed fatalism. Sure, the love of the right woman might heal him. But what if it didn’t? He was capable of inflicting damage without wanting to, without even being aware he was doing so. His one disastrous attempt at a relationship after Leanne had shown him that.
Anyway, he had an idea Sienna had a wound or two of her own. If they could be friends, maybe they could heal each other.
He stepped onto the path to his door and stopped. She was standing beneath the porch light, her hair a burnished mantle flowing over her shoulders. Her feet were bare. Her shoes and purse dangled from her fingers. In the space of a few hours she’d come all undone. It was a sexy look.
Friendship was a beautiful thing, but he felt a stab of regret for the possibilities he was denying himself.
“The taxi’s on its way,” she said as he climbed the steps to her. She shifted her shoes to her other hand. Glanced up and down the street. She was back to being nervous. “It’s still warm.”
Jack leaned against the pillar supporting the veranda roof. “I’m glad you were able to come tonight after all.”
She glanced at her watch. “I wonder where that taxi is.”
“It’s only a little after twelve.”
“Oliver didn’t know I was going out. I left a note, but I’ve never been gone when he’s come home before.” As if realizing what this told him about her social life, she shrugged and gave him a sheepish grin. “I don’t get out much since my divorce.”
“Was it messy?” he asked, sympathetic.
“No more than most, I suppose.” Her mouth tightened as she glanced away. “Anthony and I talk. Oliver keeps us amicable.”
Why did he get the impression that despite her casual manner, she was hurting inside? “Are you sure you wouldn’t like to join us for golf tomorrow?”
“I’d only slow you down. I’m guessing you’re pretty good, with all the free time you have to spend on sports.” She blushed and tugged on a strand of hair. “Sorry. I didn’t mean that as a dig.”
