Just for Now: Escape to New Zealand Book Three

by Rosalind James

  “None of your business. Or mine. But I doubt it. Maybe she just didn’t like you, did you think of that? Or could be she thought you were a cheeky kid, and she’s looking for a man.”

  “Like you?” Ben asked slyly.

  Finn looked across at him. “No,” he said firmly. “Watch what you’re saying.”

  “Come on. It hasn’t occurred to you? You can’t tell me that. Because I thought I saw something there, looking back.”

  “Did you pay any attention at all to that sexual harassment training at the start of the season?” Finn asked. “About unwelcome attention? There’s a reason you boys need to watch those vids.”

  “How d’you know it’d be unwelcome?” Ben argued.

  “I’m her employer,” Finn said irritably. “That’s the definition of unwelcome. Because she’s not in a position to say no, not while she’s working for me. Well, she is, of course,” he amended. “But she may not think so.”

  “It’s not a good position to put her into,” he finished in exasperation. “Bad idea.”

  “I can think of a few positions I’d like to put her into,” Ben said with a grin.

  “Shut up,” Finn said sharply.

  “What? Just a bit of fun.”

  “Not funny. You asked her, and she said no. Drop it.”

  Chapter 10

  “Come on, Dad. Come on,” Sophie urged from her spot on the lounge floor, her hands gripping the edges of the coffee table. Conditions in Canberra were dreadful, the winter wind and rain lashing not only the players, but also the spectators in the open stadium. Fans huddled miserably under raincoats and ponchos, but nobody in the capacity crowd of 25,000 seemed to be interested in leaving with the score standing at 23-21 with only ten minutes to play in this semifinal match. Ominously, the Blues’ first-five had been forced out of the game fifteen minutes earlier with a knee injury, and his replacement had already missed a post-try conversion that would have tied the game.

  Even Harry was watching now. “If they don’t win, what happens?” he asked Sophie. “Do they still get to play next week?”

  “No,” Sophie said in exasperation, watching anxiously as the Brumbies mounted another attack on the Blues’ try line. “It’s the semifinal, Harry. The Brumbies would go to the final, not the Blues. Dad told you.”

  She exclaimed in relief as the Blues’ captain, Drew Callahan, stole the ball and the Auckland team took possession. Over and over, the Blues charged ahead, to be met every time by fierce resistance from the Brumbies’ forwards. One particularly ferocious collision, a commotion on the field, and the camera panned to a player in a blue jersey lying motionless on the turf.

  “Who is it?” Jenna asked, eyes straining to sort out the figures in the ruck. “Can you see, Sophie?” She looked down, realized Sophie was sitting rigid, hands over her mouth.

  “Hey, now.” Jenna dropped to the floor herself, put her arm around the little girl, saw the tears beginning. “Look,” she said as her eyes searched the screen. “It’s not your dad. See him, there?”

  “It’s the No. 11,” she added, just as the announcers told the viewing audience that the injured player was Kevin McNicholl, the right wing, and the trainer signaled for the gurney. The three of them watched as McNicholl was loaded onto the contraption and wheeled off to a round of applause from the spectators.

  “He’s moving,” Jenna told Sophie. “That’s good. Look at the replay. I’d say a concussion, wouldn’t you?” She saw that Sophie’s tears hadn’t abated, hugged her more tightly. “Come on, now. He’s going to be all right. And they’re starting to play again. You want to watch this, don’t you?”

  “I thought it was Dad,” Sophie said in a small voice, her eyes still streaming.

  “It wasn’t, though,” Jenna told her gently. “Look at your Dad. Look how hard he’s working. He’s fine.”

  “What if it is, though?” Sophie sobbed. “What if something really bad happens to Daddy?”

  “Well, something does happen, lots of times,” Jenna pointed out practically. “But he seems pretty tough to me. He’s been playing a lot of years, right? And he’s still out there, not missing many games at all, from what I’ve seen. He wouldn’t want you to be crying now. He’d want you to watch him, don’t you think?”

  Sophie nodded, her sobs turning to sniffs as the Blues continued to play with a replacement who had come off the bench for the missing No. 11. She groaned when the substitute first-five missed a penalty kick that would have won the game for the Blues in the final few minutes, and she and Harry both cried out in dismay when the final hooter sounded leaving the score unchanged, signaling an abrupt ending to the Blues’ season.

  Jenna felt dejected as well. In the short time she’d been watching, she had come to expect the Blues to win their games, and knowing that the team wouldn’t be going to the final caused her own heart to sink. Watching Finn as he congratulated the Brumbies players and put a consoling arm around the replacement first-five, she could see the disappointment and pain he couldn’t quite hide behind his stoical mask.

  “Well,” she said to a drooping Sophie and Harry, “they did their best. You know that. It’s too bad, but you know what your dad says. Losing’s part of the game too. You can tell that they hate it, but they couldn’t do any more than they did. They got unlucky with the injuries, didn’t they?”

  Sophie nodded, her face somber.

  Jenna gave her another hug. “Let’s get you into bed, both of you. Sophie, do you want to come to Harry’s room with me? It’s late, but I think we could use a chapter from Charlotte’s Web tonight, don’t you?”

  Harry bounced up, his mood shifting quickly as always. “What do you think will happen to Wilbur?” he asked. “Will they sell him?”

  “Once you go to the toilet and get in bed, we’ll find out, won’t we?” Jenna asked.

  “Come on, Sophie,” she urged. “You’ll feel better once you’ve washed your face. And tomorrow, we’ll go pick your dad up at the airport. You can tell him how much you love him. That’ll make him feel better too, don’t you think? Because I’ll bet he’s pretty sad himself, right now.”

  “What’s this?” Finn asked gently the next day, dropping to a crouch to hug his children in the International Arrivals area of the Auckland airport. “Those tears aren’t for me, are they, Sophie Bee?”

  “I’m sorry, Daddy,” Sophie sobbed. “I’m so sorry you lost. I wanted you to win so much.”

  “Yeh. We wanted that too,” Finn told her. “But you know you can’t always win.”

  Jenna could see the evidence of the hard-fought match in the cuts and bruises on his face, the stiff way he and his teammates carried themselves. She thought she’d have been able to tell that they’d lost, even if she hadn’t known it already. Just from their body language.

  “Were you very sad, Daddy?” Harry asked.

  “We were all very sad,” he admitted. “We’ll have to barrack for the Crusaders now, though, won’t we? We’ll watch together next Saturday night, eh. Send them our good thoughts.”

  “And you know what this means,” he added, as he hefted his duffel and took a child’s hand in each of his to lead the way out to the carpark. “Means I get to start training with the All Blacks this week instead of next. Give me that much more time with the squad before we meet the Wallabies. I’ll get to see some of those Brumbies boys again. We’ll see how they do against the ABs.”

  “Yeh,” Sophie agreed, brightening a little now. “They’ll be sorry then, won’t they, Dad?”

  “Hope so,” he grinned at her.

  “How are the injured players doing?” Jenna asked him once they were back in the car again. Finn had raised no objection to her driving, seeming content to stretch out and relax in the passenger seat. “That concussion didn’t look good.”

  He grimaced. “Yeh, that was a fair knock. He was only out for a bit, but you hate to see that. They’ll keep a pretty close eye on him for the next couple weeks. May rest him for the first game or two w
ith the ABs. Kevvie’s played some hard footy anyway, this season.”

  “Just like you,” Jenna pointed out. “At least it looks that way to me. Will they rest you?”

  “I hope not,” he said with alarm. “I’m in good nick. Least I will be by the time we start practicing again. Bit sore today.”

  “We’ll take care of you, Daddy,” Sophie promised. “Jenna made a chocolate cake for you for tonight.”

  “Lucky me,” he said seriously. “I’ll be looking forward to that.”

  “Not sure that’s much of a consolation prize,” Jenna told him with a smile. “But it was the only thing I could think of.”

  It would do, Finn thought. But it wasn’t the only thing he could’ve come up with. He shifted wearily. The loss still gnawed at him, and the couple of beers he’d had the night before hadn’t done much to drown his sorrows. Sinking into a willing woman would definitely have helped, though. He needed to find a new girlfriend. And Jenna, unfortunately, wasn’t giving him any go-ahead signals. Anyway, it would make his life too complicated. She was doing a proper job with the kids, and that was the important thing. He didn’t want to risk mucking that up.

  “Sophie seemed pretty upset about the loss,” he remarked to her later that afternoon, sitting in the kitchen over a cup of tea and watching her marinate chicken for that night’s dinner. “Did you have a hard time with her last night?”

  Jenna nodded as she squeezed a lemon into the ziplock bag and squeezed the bag shut, shaking it to mix the marinade. “It was tough on her. Especially the concussion. She thought it was you, at first. It terrified her. Then the loss too. But mostly, I think it was the injuries. She worries about you.”

  He frowned. “I know she does. Not much I can do about it, though. If you start worrying about being injured, holding back, you’re useless. That’s the beginning of the end.”

  “I can see that. But . . .” He could see her hesitate as she looked at him, before turning her attention back to the chicken pieces she was sliding into the bag. “I do need to ask you. Can you tell me more about what happened to your wife? Because I think that’s what worries Sophie so much. That she could lose you too.”

  “I reckon you’re right. I told you that Nicole died a few years ago, eh.”

  “Yes, but not how,” she pointed out. “Was she ill for a long time? Is that what was so traumatic?”

  “Nah. The opposite. It was sudden. And pretty awful. It was a car smash. She crossed the center line on Highway One, up in Northland. Nobody knows why.”

  “Oh, no,” Jenna said with obvious distress. “Was anyone else hurt?”

  “Nah. She clipped another car. Overcorrected, ended up rolling the car. No seatbelt. Nicole was always a bit careless about things like that. I’ve been so thankful she didn’t have the kids with her. I never trusted her with the car seats. It was bad enough as it was. But I still have nightmares about that.”

  “I’m sure. How horrible. But if she was alone . . . were you off playing somewhere?”

  “Safa. Pretoria. It took ages for them to tell me, and then for me to get back. About thirty-six hours. Luckily, Nicole had arranged for Nyree to stay with the kids. And both Nicole’s parents and mine came pretty quickly. But as you can imagine, it was a rotten time. Lots of high emotion.”

  “And Sophie,” he sighed. “Sophie was four. By the time I got back, she’d gone quiet. Harry was little, not even two yet. Don’t think it had as much of an impact on him. But even though she’ll tell you she doesn’t remember, I reckon it did something to Sophie.”

  “It’s a hard thing to measure,” Jenna told him. “People tend to think that, because kids don’t remember them, traumatic events in their early years don’t register, somehow. But we’re finding, more and more, that that isn’t true. And for a sensitive child like Sophie, I can imagine it would have had a big effect.”

  “Jenna!” Harry burst into the kitchen. “I’m starved. When’s tea?”

  “Can you say excuse me?” Jenna asked. “I’m talking to your Dad right now.”

  “Sorry,” Harry said. “Excuse me. Jenna, I’m starved. When’s tea?”

  She couldn’t help smiling. “OK, but next time say it first. Look at the clock. What time is it now? Where’s the little hand?”

  “On the four,” Harry said, disappointed. “That means four o’clock, right?”

  “Four-fifteen, because the big hand is on the three,” she agreed. “More than two hours to go, buddy. How about an apple? And look in the snack compartment. I think you’ll find some cubes of cheese in there. That should hold you until tea.”

  “OK.” Harry opened the fridge and removed two cubes of cheese from the low compartment, then went to check the fruit bowl. “I’ll have a kiwifruit. And could Trevor come over to play, d’you reckon? Since it’s so long till tea?”

  “Up to your Dad,” Jenna said. “He may need some quiet time today.”

  “We’ll be very quiet,” Harry pleaded. “Please, Dad?”

  “You can’t make any more noise than the young boys on the team bus,” Finn told him with a smile. “And I’ve put up with them for days now. Course Trevor can come over.”

  “If his mum says yes,” Jenna pointed out as she picked up her phone.

  “He’s on his way,” she told Harry upon hanging up. “A few minutes.”

  “Sweet as,” Harry said with satisfaction. “I want to show him my new animals. I got a cheetah, and an otter, and a meerkat, Dad. At the museum yesterday. Jenna took us.”

  “Hope you didn’t ask Jenna for them,” he said.

  “Dad. I spent my own money, of course. I’ve been saving up. D’you want to see them?”

  “I do,” his father agreed. “After Trevor leaves, you can show me. What’s your sister doing?”

  “Reading,” Harry said with disgust. “We were playing, but she stopped. That’s why I need Trevor. I’m going to go wait for him by the door,” he announced.

  “Bye,” Finn smiled as Harry rushed to the door again.

  “Yeh. They’re a bit different, Harry and Sophie,” he said to Jenna. “People don’t always notice Sophie, or her feelings. You think she’s sensitive, eh.”

  “Of course I do,” Jenna responded with surprise. “She isn’t expressive, like Harry. But she feels things deeply, and doesn’t get over them as quickly. Harry’s more volatile. But Sophie runs deep.”

  “She does. I’m glad you can see that. Most people can’t.”

  “Because she’s quiet,” Jenna suggested. “Quiet children, especially girls, tend to get passed over. People think, ‘Oh, she’s fine,’ and pay attention to the kids who are acting out.”

  “It’s true. And I probably didn’t do enough for her in that first year or so. I was having a bit of a hard time myself. Luckily, Nyree was there. She’s been the real constant in their lives.”

  “I wouldn’t say that. You’re Sophie’s shining star. It’s because you matter so much to her that she worries about you. Nyree’s important too,” she hastened to add. “To both of them. But you’re the one Sophie looks to.”

  “Wish I’d done better, then,” he mumbled.

  “Oh, I don’t know. I’d say you’ve done a pretty terrific job. She knows how much you love her, and she trusts you to be there for her, no matter what. I’d say she’s a lucky girl.”

  “Really.” He looked more cheerful. “I’ve never known what I was doing,” he confessed. “I’ve tried my best, but I’ve always wondered if it was enough. Specially being gone so much.”

  “It’s a big burden, being a single parent,” she agreed. “Of course, you’ve had Nyree. But in the end, you’re the parent. And all parents—all good parents—wonder if they’ve done well enough. They worry about the things they’ve got wrong. Because kids don’t come with an instruction manual. You’re learning all the time, right along with them. But the important things—you’ve got those right, it seems to me. You have great kids, and they didn’t happen by accident.”

  “Tha
nks,” he said gruffly. “It’s good to hear.” He shifted in his chair and winced at the soreness.

  “But it seems to me you’ve earned a rest now,” she went on. “Why don’t you go spend some time in the spa? I’ll keep an eye on the Wild Bunch. I’ll bet you’re as starved as Harry, too. How about a sandwich out there?”

  “You don’t have to do that,” he objected. “I can make it. Or I can check the snack compartment myself.”

  “I don’t think a couple cubes of cheese are going to do it,” she smiled. “Not as hard as you worked last night. I’m still on duty till tomorrow morning, with not much to do besides making dinner. It’ll take me five minutes to fix you a snack. Go on. Get out of here.”

  He laughed and got up gratefully. Ten minutes later, she stepped out onto the huge wooden deck and handed him down the melamine plate. A generous handful of crisps was piled high beside a huge BLAT, the bacon freshly fried, avocado and tomato plump between the slices of toast.

  He took the plate from her with a “Cheers” that turned to a grin when she handed him the bottle of beer she’d been holding behind her back.

  “How’d you know?” he sighed, stretching out in the warm water, the jets pulsing against his lower back, and taking a swallow of cold beer.

  “Psychic,” she told him with a smile. “Enjoy.”

  He watched her opening the ranch sliders that led back into the house and stepping inside. He’d have enjoyed it more with a bit of female company in here. But for now, a fat sandwich and a beer weren’t too bad.

  Chapter 11

  “Have a good day.” Jenna gave Harry and Sophie each a discreet squeeze around the shoulders, watched them as they walked through the school gates.

  “Jenna!” She saw Siobhan beckoning from the group of mums chatting nearby. She hesitated a moment, then went to join her.

  “Hello, love,” Siobhan greeted her. “Missed you yesterday.”

  “My day off.” Jenna smiled at her gratefully, acknowledged the nods of the other mums.