“I don’t like yelling,” he told her. “It hurts my ears, and it makes me sad.”
“I don’t like it either,” Jenna agreed. “I hate losing my temper, in fact. But I guess Sophie had a bad day, and I did too. I lost my patience, and then I lost my temper. I’m sorry about that, and I’ll bet Sophie’s sorry, too. We’re going to have a nice quiet evening. We’ll have dinner, and if you both get yourselves ready for bed, we’ll watch a DVD together.”
“The Lion King?” he asked eagerly.
Jenna smiled. “I think maybe not The Lion King.” That would be all Sophie needed. Watching Mufasa being killed was guaranteed to set her off again. Too bad they’d watched Finding Nemo so recently. That would have been perfect. “We’ll choose something good. I’m going to go talk to Sophie now. And then I’ll start fixing tea.”
He nodded and went back to his dinosaurs. One down. And the tricky one still to go.
She tapped on the closed door of Sophie’s room. “Come in,” came the muffled voice.
Jenna stepped inside cautiously, saw Sophie stretched out on her bed, face buried in the pillow. Exactly as she herself had looked, fifteen minutes earlier. She sat down on the bed next to the still form. “Hey,” she said softly. Reached out a hand and stroked Sophie’s hair. “How’re you doing?”
Sophie rolled over, lifted a swollen, tear-stained face. “Do you hate me?”
“Oh, sweetie. Of course I don’t hate you.”
Sophie’s tears started again. “I didn’t mean to be spoilt and . . . and mean. I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” she sobbed.
“Hey, now.” Jenna lifted Sophie to sit next to her, reached for a tissue to clean her up. “I’m sorry too. I lost my temper. We both had a bad day, and we said some things that came out of those bad feelings.”
“Mrs. Ferguson yelled at me for not listening. And Caitlin played with somebody else, at recess, and I didn’t have anybody. And I miss Daddy.”
The sobs intensified as Jenna held her closer, her hand going again to smooth Sophie’s hair. “Shhh. I know you do, sweetheart. I know.” She pulled Sophie into her lap, rocked her as if she were a baby. “It feels like he’s been gone a long time, and you miss him so much.”
Sophie nodded vigorously against her, burrowing closer.
“He misses you too,” Jenna told her. “He loves you, and he’s missing his girl. But he’s doing what he has to do. He’ll be home, just as soon as he can. And we’ll watch him on Sunday morning, right?”
“Right,” Sophie said, her sobs easing a bit. “I’m his good luck charm. I have to watch.”
“That’s right,” Jenna encouraged her. “Your dad loves you so much. And I have an idea. Why don’t you write him a letter, right now? Tell him how you’re feeling. Tell him about your day. Because your dad’s always with you, you know,” she said gently, pulling away a bit so she could look into Sophie’s woebegone face. “He’s always in your heart. You hold him there. And he holds you in his.”
“Really?” Sophie asked, her eyes searching Jenna’s.
“Really,” Jenna promised. “And there’s nothing in this world that can ever take him out of your heart. Or take you out of his.”
Sophie sniffed, then got up and went to her desk. “I’m going to write to him, then. And tell him about my bad day.”
Jenna got up too. “You do that, and we’ll put it into the parcel we send him tomorrow.” She let herself out of the room, seeing Sophie already engrossed in her task, and headed to the kitchen. She still felt shaky, but less like an abject failure. Baked potatoes and fish fingers tonight, she decided. She might be able to eat a baked potato.
Jenna reached for the remote to pause the DVD as the phone rang. Seven-thirty. Finn, then, almost certainly.
Harry got to the phone first. “Daddy!” He listened a moment, then said, “No, we had a very, very bad day. Sophie yelled, and Jenna yelled. They hurt my ears. And everybody cried. Jenna cried and cried, Dad. It was really scary. And then we all had time out.”
He held out the phone. “Daddy wants to talk to you, Jenna.”
She’d just bet he did. “Hi,” she said to Finn. “Let me start out by saying we’ve all calmed down considerably since then.”
“What happened?” he asked with concern. “Something with Sophie, eh.”
“Yeah. Rough day,” she sighed, moving into the kitchen where she could talk more freely. “And I’m afraid I didn’t handle it as well as I could have. I let her push my buttons. Harry was right. I yelled. But we’ve had a good talk, and she’s written you a letter to go in your next parcel. She’s missing you, that’s all.”
“It must have been quite the scene, to make you yell,” he commented. “I’ve never heard that before.”
“Not my best moment,” she agreed. “I apologized, and so did she. I think we’re all good. I’m going to turn the phone over to her now, though, let her tell you. She may still have things to get off her chest.”
“Sophie.” She walked back into the lounge, held out the phone. “Why don’t you go into the other room to talk to your dad? That way you can tell him everything that’s on your mind.”
“Dad?” Sophie’s voice was tentative.
“Sophie Bee,” Finn said. “Sounds like you’ve had quite a day.”
“Did Jenna tell you what I said?”
“Nah. Do you want to tell me?”
“Do I have to?”
“Not if you don’t want to. Jenna said you two had worked it out, and that you were both feeling better now. Anything you do want to say to me, though?”
“I miss you, Daddy,” she burst out. “I want you to be here, with us. I wish you were here. It’s not fair.”
“I wish I were there too, tonight,” he said truthfully. “Would you want me not to be on the squad, though?”
“No!” she said with shock. “You’re an All Black, Dad.”
“Too right I am. And you know what that means. It means I have to go where they tell me, do my best for the team wherever I am. And it means that I need my family to help me do that. You can be sad that I’m not there. And when you are, you can talk to Jenna about it. You can write and tell me, too, or tell me on the phone the way you’re doing now. But you aren’t allowed to say mean things to Jenna.” His voice was firm now. “She’s doing her best to take care of you. You need to do your best to help her. Because that’s how you help me. Will you promise to do that?”
“I promise, Dad. I didn’t mean to make her cry. D’you think she still likes me?” He could hear the tears again now, and his heart melted.
“You’re a good girl. Jenna knows you’re trying hard, and I know too. She still likes you, I promise. Jenna said you wrote me a letter, eh. Will you draw me another picture, too, put that in my next parcel? You may want to draw Jenna one as well. That would make her feel better, I’ll bet. Can you do that?”
“Yeh,” Sophie promised. “I’ll draw both of you a picture tonight. I love you, Daddy.”
“I love you too, Sophie Bee. Now put Jenna back on, OK?”
“You must feel like a referee,” Jenna commiserated. “Don’t you need to get on the bus?”
“In a minute. You sure you’re all right? I keep hearing about all this crying, and it’s got me worried.”
“Just a bit off color today,” she admitted. “It’s made me weepy. We’re watching Beauty and the Beast now, and we’ve all cheered up. Tomorrow’s another day.”
“After we ring off,” he ordered, “I want you to ring Miriam, arrange for her to come tomorrow.”
“I don’t need to do that,” Jenna objected. “The kids will be in school.”
“You need an evening off,” he said firmly. “And tomorrow’s only . . . Thursday there. Days to go till Monday, and the weekend coming up. Have Miriam get the kids their tea. Go spend the evening with your friend, or go to the pub, or something. And Jenna. Go to the spa tomorrow, get a massage, or a . . . a facial, or whatever it is you do. Put it on my bill. It’s time for a mental heal
th day, I reckon.”
“Miriam may not be available, though,” she protested.
He sighed. “Then arrange one of those playdates. You’ve had other kids over enough, you must be due some time of your own. Promise me you’ll arrange it. One way or another. I’m going to ring you tonight and ask,” he threatened. “You’d better say you have.”
“Or what?” she asked with a smile.
“Hmm. Wish I had something better to offer than I do, on that score,” he admitted. “But we’re only halfway through this thing. I need you fit for the rest of it. Do you promise to arrange all that?”
“I promise. I will. And thanks.”
She hung up, wiped away the tears that had surfaced at his kindness. She’d worried, on some level, that he’d blame her for what had happened. She hadn’t been any too pleased with herself. But he’d seemed to understand how far her patience had been stretched today. She wondered for the hundredth time if she should tell him. And for the hundredth time, quailed at the prospect of breaking the news on the phone. It was only a couple weeks. And it would be so much better when they could talk face to face, when she could read his expression, see what he was really feeling.
She picked up the phone again and punched the speed dial for Miriam. A massage, and an evening off. She felt her spirits lift at the prospect, her doubts and fears receding.
Finn stuffed the phone back into his pocket, picked up his bag and headed out of the hotel room toward the lift. He needed to get his skates on, or he really would be late getting on the bus.
Everyone on the squad with a partner or kids was feeling the same way just now, he reminded himself. Nothing on earth came without a price attached. Not even the All Blacks.
Chapter 30
“Where are you calling from?” Jenna asked with pleasure, ten days later.
“Hotel lobby. Trying for a bit of privacy to talk to you.”
“In the lobby? Doesn’t sound too private.”
“Standing in the passage, next to the loos,” he admitted. “Not too scenic, but quiet. Anyway. Sophie said you were feeling a bit crook again yesterday. Are you better now?”
“It’s just something I’ve been fighting.” Well, actually, a baby that had been fighting her. She welcomed every bout of morning sickness as proof that her hormones were still doing their job, responding to her continuing pregnancy. She’d feel even more reassured, she hoped, after her first appointment with the midwife on Thursday.
“I’m glad,” Finn was saying. “Get Miriam in to help you as much as you need her, though.”
“I’m fine,” she assured him. Time to move the conversation away from her queasy stomach. “I don’t know why we’re talking about me anyway. How are you feeling? That game looked brutal, when we finally saw it on tape delay last night. Sophie was pretty worried. She kept calling them ‘the filthy French.’”
He laughed. “Yeh, they have a bit of a reputation. They’ve been known to cross the line into dirty play. Eye-gouging, going after the wedding tackle. We kept them in line this time, though.”
“Those boots,” she guessed.
“Maybe a bit,” he acknowledged with a smile in his voice. “Got the win, anyway. That’s the main thing.”
“So are you hurt? Take a picture in the mirror and send it to me. I want to see.”
“A few stitches,” he admitted. “No worries. It looks worse than it is.”
“A picture,” she demanded. “As soon as we hang up and you go back to the room.”
“Right,” he sighed. “I should ask you for one too. That’d be more worth looking at.”
“I look the same, though.”
“And I haven’t seen how you look for four weeks,” he pointed out. “You may recall that I wasn’t allowed to bring any photos of you with me. At least you’ve seen me on the telly. A photo isn’t the same as having you here. But I’ll take what I can get.”
His words warmed her. “So what did you do today to recover? Besides eat. I have that one figured out.”
“Pool day. We went to a big place in the suburbs. They roped off a couple lanes and the diving pool for us. A lot of clowning around, pretty ridiculous. But it was fun. The boys let off a bit of steam after last night, loosened up in the water. It was good.”
“Did you dive?”
“Only off the low board. You still have the record there. But I’ll have to tell the kids, I jumped off the highest platform. It was a fair way up there, too.”
“Is there a picture of that? I’d love to see it.”
“The film crew was taping, yeh. Because the clips of the squad with their shirts off are always the most viewed, for some reason. I’ll see if I can get an advance copy for you.”
“Can’t imagine why people would want to see that,” she agreed. “Do send the clip to me, if you can. The kids would love it. And I’d love to see you in your togs. It’s been a long time for me too.”
“I’ll do my best. Only seven days to go till we see each other in the flesh. And I can’t tell you how much I’m looking forward to your flesh.”
“You sound like a cannibal,” she laughed.
“Feel like one too. I miss you every way a man can. That way most of all. But also—not sure how much longer I can take rooming with Lackie.”
“Driving you crazy?” Jenna asked sympathetically. “What’s he doing?”
Finn groaned. “He’s a bloody pig, that’s what. Not a bad kid, but you should see his side of the room. Dirty clothes in heaps, dirty dishes, stuff everywhere. Nightmare. You’d think a man with two kids would be used to a bit of mess, but you’ve got me too spoilt. Turns out his mum still comes over and cleans up after him, can you believe it? The bloke’s 22.”
“Remember when I interviewed?” she reminded him. “And I told you I believed in kids helping with chores and keeping their rooms clean? Behold the rationale.”
“And you were so right. Because I hate to think of my kids living that way.”
“Weren’t you messier, though, when you were that age?”
“Hope I wasn’t that bad. But probably not as good as I think I was.”
“Too bad they didn’t match you up with another seasoned citizen,” she commiserated.
“Nah. They never put the oldies together. That mentoring thing again. Babysitting, more like. Want to make sure the young boys aren’t slipping out and getting on the piss. Or bringing girls back to the room.”
“You aren’t allowed to do that?” she asked in surprise. “Well, you aren’t, obviously. We had that conversation too. But, nobody is?”
“Nah. Too much opportunity for things to go wrong. There was a horror story a couple years ago with one of the Baby Blacks. The Under-20s,” he explained. “In Safa for the world championships. They lost in the final, got pissed in a club afterwards, drowning their sorrows. One of them had a girl in his room that night, and it ended in a rape inquiry. He wasn’t charged, and who knows what the true story was, but I reckon it ended his chances in Super Rugby. That’s the extreme result, but heaps of things can go wrong. No girls in the rooms, no going out on the razzle without the team. And that’s me, the chaperone. The Morality Police.”
“The dad,” she agreed.
He laughed. “Can’t escape it, I reckon. Anyway, I’m used to it. It’s not too bad. Except the mess. That’s getting to me, a bit.”
“You have a day off again tomorrow, right?” she asked. “No training? Hopefully you won’t be spending too much time in the room. What’s on the agenda?”
“Versailles in the morning. Then we get on the plane for Edinburgh. Back to practice again the next day, prepare for that final match.”
“Versailles? That sounds great.”
“My tenth Northern Tour, remember? And probably my fifth trip to Versailles. I’m looking forward to Scotland, though. We didn’t go last year. Good tucker. You’d be surprised.”
“Well, obviously that’s the most important thing. You do sound jaded, though.”
“
Listen to me, whingeing about having to sightsee. Revolting, isn’t it? The truth is, though, this gets harder every year. I miss the kids. And this time, I miss you too, so it’s even worse.”
“Maybe you should arrange to have the kids get out of school a week early next year,” she suggested. “They could see your last game, and you could all spend some time together afterwards, wherever that is. They’re old enough to make that long trip, and to get something out of the travel. It’d give you something outside the rugby to look forward to.”
“World Cup next year, in England,” he reminded her. “No Northern Tour. But it’s an idea. I could have them join me for the last bit. The final, and then we could do a bit of traveling.”
“You’re pretty confident. That you’ll be in the final.”
“Semifinal, anyway. Every World Cup but one, we’ve got at least that far. I’m tempting fate by assuming I’ll be on the squad. May as well go all the way and plan to play in the final.”
They talked a bit more, Finn promising to call the next morning to tell the kids about his high-dive prowess. After he rang off, though, a niggle of anxiety surfaced as he thought back on their conversation. She’d talked about the kids joining him next year. But only the kids. She’d encouraged him to tell her about what he was doing, but had volunteered almost nothing about herself, beyond the kids’ activities.
He went into the men’s toilet to snap a photo with his iPhone in the mirror and text it to her. He wasn’t sure his bruised, stitched face was anything to make her heart sing. But at least it would remind her that he was thinking of her.
Seven more days, he told himself. One more week. That wasn’t long. Then they could pick up where they’d left off.
“This is the big day, eh.” The midwife, Rose Albertson, pulled the sheet down and Jenna’s gown up, squirted the cold jelly on her abdomen. “We’ll have a look at what’s going on here. Always an exciting moment.”
Jenna tried to be excited, but felt only a sick dread. She began to get lightheaded, forced herself to breathe as the wand moved over her belly. The seconds stretched on, her fear mounting with each moment that passed.
Just for Now: Escape to New Zealand Book Three Page 25
