by Karina Bliss
Jules turned to greet Rob and Phil, who reintroduced her to his parents.
“Congratulations on your engagement. How delightful,” Phil’s mother said.
Connie gave a loud sniff, which she explained away as hay fever. “Mikey!” she shouted in the direction of the pool. “Come greet your uncle and his fiancée.”
Jules was quickly surrounded by kids, the birthday boy’s welcome more effusive after he glimpsed his present. As she watched him unwrap the box disguising an iTunes gift voucher, Jules was conscious of Lee having a quiet word with his sister. Connie responded with the same sulkiness she might have expected from one of her kids. Faintly, Jules caught, “I am trying.”
Rob heard it, too, and glanced at her sympathetically.
“Hey,” she murmured, “I deserve this.” Whatever Lee’s sister wanted to throw at her was entirely justified.
“It’s because she considered you family,” Rob said as they stepped out of range of some overexuberant pool splashing. “With you and Lee splitting up, it’s a double blow.”
Her cheeks heating, Jules stumbled through another explanation and apology, which he waved away. “Speaking for myself, I hope you’ll remain part of the family.”
“That’s not going to happen.” Her tone was gentle but firm. “I’m afraid your brother and I have burned too many bridges for that.”
“It’s not conditional on you and Lee reconciling,” he clarified. “Under the circumstances, I think your decision not to forgive him is perfectly logical. You don’t want to get hurt.”
“Thanks for understanding,” she said, slightly uncomfortable with the tenor of this conversation. And unsure why she felt a twinge of cowardice.
Jules ended up spending most of the afternoon by Rob’s side, his acceptance of the situation exactly the right balm. Conversation naturally seemed to revolve around his passion, which was genealogy.
“Why did you never marry?” she asked curiously, after he expounded on the best research websites. To their left, Lee was dispensing sodas from a cooler, tossing each one with lazy accuracy to delighted thirteen-year-old boys. “With your interest in family trees I would have thought you’d want to add a few sprigs of your own.”
He adjusted the table umbrella to shade the avocado dip that had begun browning in the sun. “I saw what Dad went through after Mum died and decided marriage wasn’t for me. Watching you after Lee died only reinforced my decision.”
Jules took a moment to reply. “Your mother’s death had a huge impact on you guys. How lucky you were all so close to Ian.”
“We weren’t—then. Mum was the homemaker, Dad the provider, working long hours. He was a Sunday treat to us. But her death impacted Lee most. He was only eleven, whereas Con and I had already left home.”
Jules tried to fathom the disconnect between the Ian she’d known, the loving center of this family and the workaholic Rob described. It was easier than imagining a lonely little boy left motherless. “So Ian took over?”
A shadow fell over the grass. The tingle at the nape of Jules’s neck told her exactly who it was.
“Dad took six weeks’ leave then went back to work with reduced hours,” Lee answered, pulling up a chair and joining them. “Basically he restructured his life for me.”
“He was a good man,” Rob said gruffly, raising his coffee mug.
His younger brother chinked it with his own. “The best... Rob, you need sunscreen. The back of your neck is the color of an Afghani sunset.”
Jules tilted her deck chair to check. “Ouch, he’s right. Sorry I didn’t notice.”
Putting a tentative hand on his neck, Rob winced. “I think I’ll move inside.”
He left and they were alone for the first time since they’d arrived.
“I’m sorry about Connie,” Lee said.
“She has a right to be disappointed. And thanks... You said you wouldn’t make this—us—awkward at public gatherings and you haven’t.” She hesitated. “On the subject of Afghanistan, can I ask you something?”
“You can ask,” he said cautiously.
“Who is Ajmal?”
Lee watched the kids, chattering as they fixed a volleyball net across the pool.
“Don’t answer if you—”
“Ajmal was my reluctant protector and, later, my friend.” Lee began talking about a creed called Pashtunwali and Jules listened, fascinated, as he described his petition for sanctuary, and the obligation the old village headman felt because Lee had once treated his grandchild.
She could barely comprehend the world he described.
“By accepting my request, Ajmal obligated his clan as well as his village to protect me. Fortunately, his family connections stretched across all the Taliban supply routes. The militants can’t function without local support—and his son was a local Taliban commander—so they didn’t immediately bomb his village into oblivion. Instead, they relied on a combination of threats and dawn raids. Ajmal hid me in caves while he tried to negotiate some kind of compromise.”
“Why didn’t he just let you go?”
“Because he couldn’t be sure I wouldn’t turn against him. I was the enemy, remember, Special Forces. Ajmal knew what I could bring down on them. His Taliban son would be at risk.”
“He didn’t accept his father’s decision to offer you sanctuary?”
“To Ajmal’s sorrow, no.”
“Uncle Lee!” Mikey ran over, breathless. “We’re set up for water volleyball and we’ve picked teams. You’re on mine.”
“Great, let’s kick some ass. So are you getting wet today?” he asked Jules.
She’d bought her swimsuit; in this clan, sitting on the sidelines was frowned upon.
But now she was shy. “If you’ve got enough people...”
“C’mon, Jules.” Mikey tugged her out of her chair. “You have to because it’s my birthday and...and...”
“Giving up isn’t an option,” his uncle supplied.
“Yeah, what he said...go get changed.” Mikey shoved her bag at her.
“Okay, okay!” Laughing, she headed to the house.
Glimpsing Connie in the master bedroom, Jules hesitated. The other woman was standing in front of the mirror in a one-piece pulling her hair into a ponytail. Their eyes met in the reflection.
“I’m sorry.”
“And that’s supposed to make it all right?”
“No.” No one knew better than Jules. Sometimes parting ways was the only thing left to do.
“Then we understand each other.” Connie turned away from the mirror. “In public I’ll play nice to save my brother further distress, but in private, I refuse to engage.” Recognizing the pun she’d accidentally made, the older woman grimaced. “Now hurry up and change. You’re on my team.”
* * *
LEE HAD WATCHED Jules walk to the house, wondering if she’d made the connection. Giving up isn’t an option.
He already wore board shorts, but he stepped around the side of the house to strip off his good T-shirt and replace it with one he could get wet. He didn’t want to scare the kids by going topless. Bundling up his good shirt, Lee returned poolside and, ignoring the moans and groans, made all the kids reapply sunscreen while they waited for the adults to reappear.
He’d told everybody he wanted no scheming or interfering, but Ross had steamed ahead anyway. In Ice’s case, Lee suspected, with Jo and Dan’s abetting.
But he couldn’t control their actions—clearly
!—so he’d adopted a “don’t ask, don’t tell” policy. Nate and Claire had already assured him they’d stay out of it, which he appreciated. They were closest to Jules and their loyalties were already torn.
His only plan was to give her the time she needed to get past their emotional reunion and remember she loved him. And maybe, just maybe he’d work out the right words to convince her to give him another chance.
The tough part was working out what she needed. Because if she reconsidered, he wanted to be a man who deserved her.
An hour later, after he’d set the birthday boy up for the slam dunk that sealed the match, the kids were devouring what remained of the birthday cake and the exhausted adults were sharing a last cup of tea.
“Have you ever thought about working with kids?” Jules asked him. “You’re so good with them.”
There were murmurs of assent around the table.
Lee had considered it. “I don’t think a classroom would suit me.”
“Didn’t a couple of ex SAS set up a youth charity for at-risk teens a few months ago?” Jules pulled a face. “Of course, you wouldn’t know that. It’s based at Tutukaka—” twenty minutes from Whangarei “—and it’s an outdoor adventure facility that teaches life skills. Ask Nate about it.”
“Thanks, I will.”
“How did you become a lawyer?” Rob asked Jules.
“Boring story,” she said.
“You listened to all his,” Lee said, and earned a punch on the arm from his brother.
“I owe it all to one of my mother’s boyfriends,” said Jules. Absently she finger combed her damp hair. Lee wanted to take over. Jules in her red bathing suit rising to punch the volleyball over the net would haunt him tonight.
“He was a lawyer, too?” Connie asked, revealing a slight aversion in her emphasis of the word.
“No, a lazy, shiftless real estate agent,” Jules replied good-humoredly. If she’d recognized the insult she wasn’t acknowledging it. “Patrick did have the gift of the gab, though, because Mum never begrudged supporting him between his rare sales.”
Phil sliced himself a second piece of birthday cake. “This story sounds fun.”
“Not really.” Jules loosened a tangle. “Patrick lived with us just long enough claim a half share in the family home when they split.”
Rob was horrified. “Wasn’t it in your mother’s name?”
“Didn’t matter. Neither did the fact that his contributions to the mortgage had been patchy. Pat made them when he could afford to. He even had the gall to say he babysat when Mum worked night shifts. As though I hadn’t been looking after myself for years. He won his claim. We had to sell to pay him out and afterward moved to an apartment where we could afford the rent.”
“Hey, Uncle Lee, watch this.” Mikey and two friends did a simultaneous water-bomb into the pool. Every adult ducked as water sprayed the table.
“One at a time!” his father yelled.
Laughing, Jules brushed water off her bare arms. “And that’s when I decided to become a lawyer. To protect people like my mother from poor decisions.”
Jules noticed everyone’s discomfort—even Connie looked appalled. “Did I make it sound like we ended up in the workhouse?” she said, trying to laugh it off. “We found a nice apartment and I never went hungry. Mum’s always been a tireless worker. She had to be with so many dependents.”
Turning her childhood into a joke again. It was probably the way she coped with it.
Connie couldn’t help herself. “I hope your mother learned her lesson.”
Jules’s smile froze and Lee helped her out. “Helen did eventually find a prince, didn’t she?”
“Yes,” she answered brightly. “And I even talked her into a prenup.”
So many pennies dropped for Lee, he could have collected them and opened a bank. He’d already guessed that Jules’s mother wasn’t going to win any parenting awards. His ex-fiancée’s childhood wasn’t the situation comedy she’d sold him, but until now he hadn’t appreciated the ramifications her upbringing had on their relationship.
“I should go. I’ve got a ninety-minute drive ahead of me.” Jules stood and started making her goodbyes.
“You’re not leaving together?” Phil’s dad said in surprise.
“Lee’s staying on for a couple of nights,” Jules explained.
“Tests,” Lee added vaguely. “Military stuff.” He was giving her space as per their agreement. “I’ll walk you out to the car.”
“I just figured out what spooked you into suggesting we slow things down,” he said casually when they’d left the others and stood by the Pink Lady. “It was adding me to your five-year plan, wasn’t it?”
Hunting through her bag, Jules said, “Where are my car keys?”
But this was too important to let go.
“Right from the start I was crazy about you,” he said. “But, of course, you’d heard it all before—from the bullshit artists romancing your mother.”
“Here they are.” She pulled the keys out of her checkbook.
“Honesty works both ways,” he reminded her.
Jules shrugged. “You used indelible ink on my planner,” she accused him. “Even though there was a pencil right beside it.”
“Pretty scary to fall so hard and fast into something you didn’t even believe in,” he guessed.
“The grand passion, soul mates... I hate that stuff.” Jules unlocked the Pink Lady. “If I hadn’t loved you I would have dumped you there and then but I talked myself down, told myself to take a deep breath and see what happened after your deployment.”
“And then I blew it with an impulsive proposal. I might as well have showed up with a straitjacket.”
She shifted uncomfortably. “I need to go if I’m going to beat the traffic.”
“Sure.” Lee opened her car door. “Safe journey. See you in a couple of days.”
He watched the Pink Lady until the taillights disappeared from the end of the street. She’d given him something to work with. Lee took that as progress.
* * *
CHANGING GEARS ON Jules’s road bike, Lee veered off the busy main street and down the towpath along the waterfront, grateful for the dappled shade of the trees as he rode the last few miles home.
Seagulls ripping into a bread roll rose squawking and flapping at the interruption as he whizzed through their midst. He glanced down at the discarded scraps, which not long ago would have represented a meal to him. Different worlds.
A fellow cyclist whizzed by and he nodded a greeting, grateful for the anonymity of his helmet and sunglasses. Recognition since the 60 Minutes segment had increased, though generally people left him alone. It was the pity in their expressions that he couldn’t stand.
He hit the last hill before home, dropped down a couple of gears and dug in for the climb. He hadn’t yet made it to the top, but every day he’d got a little farther before his lungs and legs gave out. Today, he thought as his thigh muscles began to scream. Today.
Sucking in warm air, he dropped another gear and stood on the pedals, forcing his shaky legs to deliver. Only when he crested the hill with his lungs burning did Lee allow himself a rest stop and a celebratory fist pump.
He reached down to the holder on the chassis for his water bottle, took a swig and replaced it, automatically finding Jules’s house in the valley, its lichen-streaked iron roof standing out from its neighbors.
It had been nearly a week since Mikey’s party
and in every area he felt he was making real progress. He was putting on weight, his fitness was improving and his strict adherence to their armistice agreement was softening Jules. Maybe in the way snow softened in daylight only to refreeze again overnight, but there was a thawing. He could feel it. Sometimes she even turned her back on him. That took trust.
Screw it, he was a romantic and whatever it took, he’d get the girl.
For now it was enough that she liked him—sometimes.
The wedding was in a week, after which he’d move out. But there would be lots of time together because of it, and watching Viv and Ross pledge their vows might...
Lee snorted.
Yeah, and Jules is such a sucker for romance.
He resumed his ride, coasting down the other side of the hill, happy to let gravity do the work.
All his life he’d been a full-speed doer. Now one of his favorite moments was standing on the back step first thing in the morning. Cupping a mug of fresh coffee and gazing across the dew-soaked lawn to the plum tree where spiderwebs sparkled like jeweled dream catchers. For now it was enough that he kept the faith.
The bike gathered speed. Enjoying the breeze on his face, Lee weaved skillfully through traffic, reluctant to apply his brakes. At the bottom of the hill he bounced the curb and squealed to a stop outside the gas station. The tires on the bike needed air.
One of his new rituals was to buy a sports drink and ingredients for dinner at the grocery store next door while enjoying a chat with the owner, Rajesh. He couldn’t keep relying on friends and family to run defense. And the occasional introduction to other customers was good for his rusty social skills—the boat launch tomorrow was going to be a shindig.
As he unscrewed the cap on the tire and plugged on the air hose he glanced around, but the coast was clear. The press circus had largely moved on. Once or twice he’d still get snapped by a freelance photographer lurking for a shot. He took off his helmet and sunglasses and wiped his brow.
Lee was tightening the screw cap on the front wheel when a silver Porsche caught his attention. Nice. The guy filling it turned to slot the nozzle into the pump and Lee’s enjoyment faded. The architect.
