Just for Now: Escape to New Zealand Book Three

by Rosalind James

  “Twelve weeks,” she admitted. “Ten weeks since conception. That’s what the midwife says.”

  “And?” he prompted when she fell silent. “Why didn’t you tell me, sometime in those ten weeks?” He reached for his T-shirt, pulled it back on with jerky motions.

  Jenna leaned over to pick her nightgown up from the floor where he’d dropped it, wanting to be dressed for this conversation. It wasn’t going anything like the way she had envisioned. The way she had hoped it would be.

  “Before you left,” she began, “I wasn’t sure, at first. And then I was, pretty sure. But I had a . . . I had a miscarriage before. When I was married. I couldn’t believe it would work. That the baby would live. And I wanted it to, so much. I thought I would wait and see first. I didn’t want to tell you, and then,” she swallowed, “then have it die again. If that was going to happen, I needed it to just be me who knew.”

  “I don’t understand that. It’s mine too. Isn’t it?” he asked sharply. “Is that what you’re saying?”

  “No!” She stared at him, horrified. “You know it is. You know I hadn’t been with anybody else. How can you ask that?” Her breath was coming shorter now. She felt the nausea rising, swallowed it back.

  “How, then?” he challenged. “We used protection, every time. I was bloody careful. How could that happen?”

  “Because it isn’t perfect! You aren’t a kid. You know it isn’t perfect.”

  “Weren’t you using anything else, for God’s sake?”

  She looked at him, stricken. “Of course I wasn’t. How could I have been? I’d probably had sex twenty times in my life. I hadn’t had it at all for years. Then you came along. You know what happened. You were there too. You know how it was, how fast it was. You have to remember.”

  “But after the first time,” he said with frustration. “Didn’t you think about it?”

  “Did you?” she challenged, getting angry now. “You’re the one with the experience. Anyway, it probably happened that first time. Ten weeks, Finn. Count back.”

  “Aw, shit.” He put his head in his hands. “Bloody vending machine condom. How could I have been so stupid? Twice. I can’t believe it.”

  She looked down at him, the cold seeping through her. She hadn’t expected him to be thrilled, of course. Well, she’d hoped, in some part of herself, that he would be. That he’d want this baby, would want her, as much as she wanted both of them. She was the one who’d been stupid. That was obvious now.

  He lifted his head, eyes narrowing again, hard now. “Right,” he rapped out. “You didn’t tell me before I left. I’ve been gone five weeks, Jenna. You had to know all those five weeks. Everything’s obviously going on according to plan,” he said bitterly. “Based on how you look. Baby’s growing, heart’s beating. All that. So why the hell didn’t you tell me?”

  “On the phone? How was the game, and by the way, I’m pregnant?”

  “Yeh,” he snapped. “Exactly. I had a right to know. Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Because I was scared, all right?” she burst out. “I was scared you’d react exactly the way you’re doing right now. And I wouldn’t even be able to see you, talk to you. I thought it wouldn’t matter, that I could wait till you came home. I even hoped you might be happy about it.” Her eyes were welling with tears now, and she dashed them away impatiently with one hand. “Stupid. But you’re such a good dad. I thought, I hoped, maybe you’d want it as much as I did.”

  “Right,” he shot back. “You thought I’d be rapt that I’d got the nanny up the duff.”

  She reared back as if he’d hit her, her eyes going wide with shock and pain. Her hand went to her mouth as she stumbled out of bed.

  “Don’t run away from me.” He was in front of her now, glaring at her. “We’re talking about this.”

  “Sick,” she got out from behind her hand, pushed past him and ran for the door.

  “Shit.” He watched her go. Sank down on the bed again, his hands gripping the edge of the mattress, head bent. Took a few deep breaths and pulled himself back under control with an effort. Shook himself like a dog and stood up to go find her.

  He waited in the hallway until he heard the toilet flush, then walked cautiously through the bathroom door to find Jenna still huddled on her knees over the toilet, gripping the bowl.

  “Aw, geez.” He pulled a hand towel from the rack and wet it at the sink, squatted down next to her to wipe her face. She was crying in earnest now, and the guilt twisted inside him. “Hang on. I’ll get you a glass of water.”

  When he came back with it, she was standing again, holding onto the sink with one hand and slowly brushing her teeth with the other. Her face still looked paper-white, and she didn’t appear any too steady on her feet.

  “Come on,” he urged as she spat the toothpaste into the sink and rinsed her mouth with the water he offered. “I’ll help you back to bed. Have you been crook all this time? This bad?”

  She nodded, still not looking at him.

  He exhaled. “Let’s go, then. We can talk more tomorrow, figure out what to do. You need to lie down now.”

  “No.” She lowered the toilet seat and sank down onto it. “I’m going to stay here for a minute.” She swallowed. “Still sick.”

  “Right.” He leaned back against the wall to wait.

  She pulled her hair back from her face with one trembling hand and looked up at him with weary eyes. “Please go away. Go to bed. I don’t want you here with me right now.”

  He looked down at her helplessly. “Are you sure? Can I help?”

  She shook her head tiredly. “Just go. Please.”

  “We’ll talk tomorrow, then,” he said again. “Sorry. Wasn’t expecting it, that’s all. Bit of a shock.”

  Her mouth twisted. “Yeah. Shock to me too. Go to bed. You’ve said enough. I get it. And I need to be alone now.”

  He hesitated, then pushed himself off the wall and left the bathroom, closing the door quietly after him. He couldn’t have made more of a hash of that if he’d tried. He winced inwardly at the memory of her stricken face, the pain in her eyes. He’d apologize again tomorrow. They’d make a plan. He pushed a hand through his hair and made his way down the long hallway, up the stairs to his own room. Pregnant. Bloody hell.

  “Daddy!” Finn woke from the doze he’d finally fallen into as Harry, always the early riser, jumped onto the bed next to him.

  “What time is it?” he asked tiredly, pulling the alarm clock towards him.

  “Morning,” Harry pointed out unnecessarily. “And Jenna isn’t up. Jenna’s always up when I get up, Dad.”

  “We’ll let Jenna sleep a bit this morning,” Finn told his son. “Where’s Sophie?”

  Harry sighed. “Reading in bed. Of course.”

  “I have an idea. We’ll get dressed and walk to the café for breakfast. A treat. How would that be?”

  “Jenna too?” Harry scrambled for the edge of the bed.

  “Nah, Jenna needs some rest. She wasn’t feeling too flash last night.” Because of him, Finn thought guiltily.

  Harry nodded. “Jenna feels crook a lot. She has a funny tummy. That’s what she says. ‘Just my funny tummy.’ One time she had to stop the car. And then she spewed on the verge. All over the grass, Dad. It was disgusting.” Harry shuddered at the memory. “Sophie and I were really scared. But then she got better.”

  Finn winced. “Well, we’ll let her give her tummy a rest today, now that I’m home. Go get your gear on. And tell your sister.”

  “OK.” Harry ran off, and Finn moved into the bathroom to get himself ready. He’d take the kids out. Then put on a DVD for them and have a quiet talk with Jenna. It wasn’t ideal, but after the disaster last night, he couldn’t afford to wait.

  “Jenna!” Harry and Sophie ran ahead of Finn into the house, Sophie clutching the white bakery bag. “We brought you a scone! Jenna!”

  Finn went into the kitchen, looked around with surprise. Was she still asleep, then?

>   “Dad!” he heard from the other end of the house. Then both his kids were running back to find him. “She isn’t here!”

  “She probably went for a run,” he told them. “Took advantage of you monsters being out of the house for once.”

  “No, Dad,” Sophie said soberly. “Her room’s empty.”

  “What do you mean, empty?” A chill ran through him at the look on their faces, and he followed them down the hall. Paused outside the open door to Jenna’s room and looked inside.

  They were right. It was empty. Cleaned out. The bed was neatly made, but the few personal items that usually sat atop the bedside table were gone, and her cardigan was missing from its usual spot across the chair back. He moved across to the closet, pulled the door open. Nothing but hangers, looking forlorn in the empty space.

  Sophie came to join him, her eyes too old in her small face. “She went away,” she told him. “Why didn’t she say goodbye to us, Dad?”

  “No!” Harry shouted. “Jenna wouldn’t go away. She loves us. She loves us, Dad. And I love Jenna. I want Jenna.” He started to cry and Finn looked at him helplessly, reached an arm out to pull him close.

  Sophie was there again, handing him a folded sheet of paper. “I think she left you a letter, Dad. It has your name on it. It was on the bed.”

  He took it, not trusting himself to open it in front of them. Sat on the bed and pulled them down to sit beside him. “I think Jenna had to go away for a while,” he told them. “But she’ll be back. She had something to do, that was all. She waited until I was home again to take care of you, then she went.”

  “But why didn’t she tell us?” Harry asked, eyes streaming. Sophie was sobbing now too, more quietly, and Finn looked at the pair of them, not knowing what to do.

  “I don’t know,” he finally answered. “But I’ll talk to her soon, and find out. She loves you both. She’ll be back to see you. I’m sure of it.” Even if she didn’t want to see him, he knew, she’d never leave Sophie and Harry like this. Not for good.

  Finally, he had the kids settled. He parked them in front of a DVD, moved into his bedroom and sank down on the bed. Pulled Jenna’s note out of his pocket and unfolded it.

  Finn,

  I’m sorry for leaving without saying goodbye to Sophie and Harry. Please tell them I had an emergency, and that I love them and will see them soon, if that’s OK with you. And that I’ll post their Christmas presents to them. This isn’t their fault, and they need to know that. Please tell them so, for now. That’s what they’ll be worried about, especially Sophie.

  I’ll contact you later to make plans. If you’d rather I talk to your lawyer instead, let me know. I will of course make the baby available for any paternity testing you or your lawyer think is necessary. I wish I didn’t have to ask you for maintenance, but I will, after the baby’s born. I have some money saved, but a teacher’s salary only goes so far.

  I hope you’ll want to be part of this baby’s life, and I’ll do everything I can to make that possible. I know you wouldn’t have given Sophie up, even though she wasn’t what you’d planned. You’re a great dad, and I hope you can find it in your heart to be that dad to this baby too.

  You don’t have to worry that I’ll talk about this to anyone. It doesn’t reflect well on me, I know. It was the wrong thing to do, but I can’t be sorry about the baby. I hope, eventually, you won’t be sorry either.

  Jenna

  He read it through once, twice. Folded it in half and set it down next to him. Picked it up again and read it a third time. Every sentence seemed to slice at him, and he squeezed his eyes shut to stop the tears of pain and guilt. Had he really asked her if the baby was his?

  Where was she now? Where had she gone? She was sick, and alone. He pushed back the fear, picked up his mobile to ring her. It went straight to voicemail.

  “Jenna. This is Finn. I’m sorry for what I said, and I’m worried about you. Ring me. Please.”

  He hesitated, then rang off. He had a feeling she wasn’t going to be ringing. Where would she have gone? He couldn’t think. The holidays were coming up. Even if she had a job for the next term, it wouldn’t be starting until late January. Some kind of temporary post? She’d been working in a café before she’d come to him, and this was summer, the busiest season. She could be anywhere.

  Chapter 33

  Jenna reached into the huge laundry basket for another sheet, pegged it onto the line. Her back was aching again. She liked the idea of hanging out the washing, but found herself wishing, just this once, for a dryer.

  The wind whipped one end of the heavy, wet fabric out of her hand. She exclaimed in frustration and grabbed for it as Sarah approached.

  “Jenna. I wanted to ask . . .” Sarah stopped, staring at Jenna’s midsection, the blouse pulled against her body by the wind as she stretched to repeg the errant sheet.

  “What?” Jenna looked over, then faltered at the expression on Sarah’s face.

  “Suddenly, everything’s becoming very clear to me,” Sarah said slowly. “Finn’s, I assume.”

  Jenna flushed, bent to the basket for another sheet to hide her confusion. “Yes.”

  “Does he know?”

  Jenna laughed humorlessly, pegged the sheet to the line. “Oh yeah. He knows.”

  Sarah frowned. “And he turfed you out? That doesn’t sound like Finn. Besides, seemed to me he was fair gone on you.”

  “No.” Jenna forced herself to answer honestly. “He didn’t actually throw me out. But I didn’t have much choice, either. Because you’re wrong about that. Sure, he wanted me to take care of his kids. He liked me as a nanny just fine. And he wanted to have sex with me. He sure wanted that. That’s what you were seeing. But that was it. He doesn’t want either one of us now. He made his feelings pretty clear, trust me.” She brushed the sudden tears away. “Stupid hormones,” she muttered. “I know he’s your brother. Sorry. I’m sure you don’t want to hear this.”

  “He let you go, just like that? Without any help? Sarah asked, outraged.

  “I didn’t ask. I left. Don’t worry,” Jenna hastened to assure her. “I’m sure he’ll do his duty, pay the maintenance. And meanwhile, I’m fine. I can take care of both of us. Thanks to you. Just don’t tell him I’m with you, OK? You promised, remember.”

  “I didn’t know then, though,” Sarah answered slowly. “Just thought you’d parted on bad terms, and needed to start the job a bit earlier. This is different. I won’t go out of my way to tell him. But if he asks me, I’m not going to lie.”

  Jenna nodded. “That’s fair. I can’t see why he’d ask anyway. And it’s not for that long. It’s almost Christmas already. Another few weeks, and I’ll head back up to Auckland for the start of the term and the new post. I’ll be getting in touch with him then—or his lawyer, I guess. Seeing the kids too, if he’s OK with that. That’ll take you out of the middle. Sorry to put you there in the first place, but I didn’t know what else to do. I had to leave. I couldn’t stay there, not once I knew how he felt about me.”

  “I’m not too comfortable with this,” Sarah said. “But since that’s my niece or nephew in there, and my dill of a brother hasn’t stepped up, I’m glad I have you here where I can keep an eye on you.”

  “I’m shifting you, though,” she decided, coming over and taking the other end of the heavy sheet. “I don’t want you cleaning the cabins anymore. You’re working in the office with me.”

  “I’m feeling much better now,” Jenna protested. “Everyone’s right when they say the second trimester’s easier. The sickness is finally going away. I’ve even gained a kilo.”

  “After losing, what?” Sarah looked her over critically. “I’ve noticed.”

  “Four. But I’m much better now,” Jenna added hastily. “Not as tired either. I can clean. I don’t mind.”

  “The office,” Sarah told her firmly. “Starting tomorrow.”

  “So how’re you coping, on your own with the kids?” Sarah asked three days later, stand
ing in the kitchen of her comfortable home and arranging leftover ham from Christmas Eve tea in a plastic container.

  Finn shrugged heavily. “Not too bad. Nyree’s cousin Miriam’s been helping a bit. And Nyree’ll be back after the New Year.”

  “I didn’t realize Jenna was leaving so soon,” Sarah ventured. “I’d thought she was staying on another week.”

  “Yeh. Well.” Finn finished scraping the plates, pulled the rubbish bag out of the bin and tied it shut with a few quick movements, shook out a new bag and lined the bin again. “Something happened.”

  “Oh? Must have been something pretty big, to make her leave the kids. They’re still teary about it. I thought she was attached to them. Yet they don’t seem to have talked to her since she left.”

  “It was,” he admitted. “Pretty big, I mean. My fault. I said some things.”

  “What kind of things?” Sarah probed.

  “D’you have to be such a bloody stickybeak?” he flashed. “Bad things, all right? The wrong things. Wish I could take them back, but I can’t find her to do it.”

  Sarah turned, wiped her hands on a tea towel, and leaned against the bench to face him. “What happened, baby brother? I just watched your kids crying over their Christmas tea, and you look awful. So tell me. What did you do? I thought you fancied her. Is that it?”

  “Fancied her? Yeh, you could put it like that. Or you could say that I fancied her so much she fell pregnant, and I didn’t find out till I got back from the Tour. And that I was a bloody fool when I did find out, made her think I didn’t want her or the baby, drove her away. And that I’ve been trying to get her back ever since, and I haven’t come within a bull’s roar of it. And that I don’t bloody well know what else to do, or I’d be doing it,” he finished defiantly, his voice rising until he was almost shouting.

  He wrenched the kitchen door open, and Sarah heard the clatter as he threw the rubbish bag into the wheelie bin with unnecessary violence, then watched him come back into the kitchen and sink down on a chair, his head in his hands.