“I noticed the new people. Specially that bloke Ian. He fancies you, eh.”
“He does not! He’s just being friendly.”
Finn laughed. “Yeh, right. He’s never invited you for a coffee?” He interpreted her expression correctly. “He has. Ha. I knew it.”
“A couple times,” she said defensively. “Just for a chat. Just friends.”
“Uh-huh. Friends.”
“He’d have asked me out for more than coffee, if he were interested.”
“Nah. He’s too weedy to make a move that fast,” Finn said. “It’s been … what? Two coffees?” At her reluctant nod, he went on. “Next week, he’ll ask you out. Not for dinner, though. Too scary. For lunch, maybe. Over another coffee.”
“That isn’t fair. Anyone would seem weedy next to you. Most men don’t have your self-assurance, either. Anyway, just because he enjoys chatting with me, that doesn’t mean he wants to take me out.”
“What time is it? Gone nine? He’s thinking about you right now. I saw. I know,” he insisted at her shake of the head. “Give me credit for that much, anyway. I know what blokes think about. He’s imagining you naked.” He took a sip of his beer and nodded in satisfied certainty.
“Finn! Completely inappropriate.”
He held up his hands. “Sorry. But somebody has to look out for you. You’re like a baby out there. Though I don’t think you’re in too much danger from that fella. Bet he lives with his mum.”
“No,” she admitted. “His sister.”
He pointed his beer bottle at her in triumph as they both burst into laughter.
“You realize you’ve now eliminated any chance of my saying yes,” she complained. “If that ever does happen.”
“What a pity,” he intoned with his best sincere expression, then grinned at her again.
* * *
“So how was school today?” Finn asked her the following Monday evening. “Volunteer day, right?”
“Right. It was good. Looks like they’ll have a vacancy for a Year One teacher in the new year. I’m thinking of applying.”
“Bit of a challenge, Mangere,” he said. “Quite a mix of kids they have out there. New arrivals, limited English. All the Islander kids, too. Not like Mt. Eden.”
“I can handle it. I’m a pretty good teacher, you know.”
“I believe it. Third coffee date too, eh,” he added slyly.
“Yes. And you were right.” She laughed. “Sunday lunch, just as you predicted.”
“I’m good,” he admitted modestly. “Not really, though. I could see that one coming well down the track. What did you say?”
“I said yes. Then I took him into the supply cupboard and we had passionate sex. None of your business, and you know it.”
“True. But I’m glad you said no.”
She scowled at him. “It’s really your fault. You shouldn’t have said the weedy thing. Because I couldn’t help noticing that his arms were kind of …” She trailed off.
“Spindly,” he offered helpfully. “Nah. He wasn’t your type anyway.”
Jenna tried not to look at the size of his own arms as he sat with his elbows on the table, picking at the label of his beer bottle. The comparison wasn’t really fair, after all. Ian hadn’t thought so, anyway.
“I know I’m not an All Black,” he had said in frustration when Jenna had declined his invitation, as gently as she knew how. “But I do have something to offer, all the same.”
“What does that have to do with it?” she asked in surprise.
“I saw how you looked at Finn Douglas last week. I was hoping I was wrong, but it’s clear to me now that I wasn’t.”
“Finn’s my employer,” she told him sharply. “I’m looking after his kids. And I take that responsibility very seriously.”
“I know what I saw,” he said stubbornly. “And a sportsman like that isn’t a good bet, not for someone like you. You don’t know what you’re getting into.”
“Ian. I’m not going to have this conversation, or to try to convince you that you’re wrong. And I’m sorry to say no. It’s not you. It’s just that I’m not in a position to be doing that right now. Dating.”
“It’s not you, it’s me.” He smiled bitterly. “I’ve heard that one before. Never mind.” He shrugged into his jacket and rose to leave the cafe. “Whatever you’re telling me, or yourself for that matter, I have a pretty fair idea of what you’re after. And I’ll just say, good luck with that. Because you’re going to need it.”
* * *
“I’m not sure what my type is anymore,” Jenna confessed to Finn now. “But I’m pretty sure the guy has to weigh more than me.”
He laughed. “I don’t think Ian had any complaints. In fact, I can tell you with fair certainty that he liked the way you look.”
“It’s not really fair of you to criticize my potential partners anyway,” she complained. “I never said anything about your choice, even though I may have been tempted.”
“True. You didn’t. Go on, though. Tell me how I can choose better next time.”
“Well, you did fairly well in the looks department,” she was forced to admit. “I can’t really say much there.”
“I dunno. I’d like to find someone who eats. I’m tired of watching women push a lettuce leaf round their plate while I scoff down my tea.”
“I should point out, in all fairness, that there aren’t many models or TV presenters who eat a lot,” she told him. “Unless they’re bulimic, of course. And that doesn’t seem real attractive, at least not to me.”
“You’re probably right,” he conceded. “But I reckon someone who ate a bit more might be a better cook as well.”
“Yeah, the kids told me about Ashley’s dinner party,” she said with a smile.
“That’s another one. Somebody who actually likes my kids would be good. Who could at least have a conversation with them. I don’t much enjoy the uneasy feeling that they’re researching boarding schools.”
Nurturing and Peace
Jenna grabbed for her phone as she gently folded the scrambled eggs in the pan. “Hello? Oh, hi, Nat.”
She cradled the phone between neck and shoulder, brought the pan over to the table, and dished up three servings: two small, and one extra-large, then smiled apologetically at Finn and went back to the kitchen bench to butter toast as she continued her conversation.
“Thanks,” she said. “I’m fixing breakfast right now, but I appreciate you taking the time to call, especially while you’re away… . Yeah, it’s the big one. Thirty. Oh, well. Beats the alternative, right? Talk to you soon. And thanks again.”
She delivered the toast to the table. “Sorry about that. My friend Natalie is on holiday in Aussie, and she wanted to catch me while she could.”
“No worries,” Finn said. “Sorry to eavesdrop, but is it your birthday, by any chance?”
“It isn’t eavesdropping when the person’s talking right in front of you. And yeah, it’s my birthday. Thirty. Zero on the end and everything.”
“Daddy says it’s not polite to ask grownups how old they are,” Sophie told her.
“He’s right,” Jenna said. “But I just told you, and there’s nothing wrong with you knowing. I’m thirty years old today.”
“Happy birthday,” Finn said. “What are you going to do to celebrate?”
She smiled ruefully. “No plans. It’s not my day off anyway. But, yeah. No plans.”
“That’s not right,” he objected. “At least you shouldn’t have to cook dinner. You can go out if you like. I’ll fix something.” He ignored the groans of dismay from Sophie and Harry. “Or better yet, we’ll all go out to the pub.”
“That’s a good plan, Dad,” Sophie said. “We like the pub.”
“And we don’t like your cooking,” Harry pointed out unnecessarily.
“Not polite,” Jenna told him. “But if you mean it, Finn, then, yes, I’d like to go to the pub.”
“Sure you wouldn’t rather go out withou
t us? You may not do Harry’s taste buds any favors, but you won’t hurt our feelings,” Finn assured her.
“Unfortunately, with Natalie gone, I wouldn’t have much to do,” Jenna admitted. “Sad, but there you go. I haven’t been in Auckland long enough to make many friends.”
This would be her second birthday on her own, without Jeremy. Last year, it had been hard, but she’d got through it with the help of a couple girlfriends. She hadn’t been looking forward to this one. What was it about birthdays? Maybe that it was supposed to be your own special day. But if there was nobody around to tell you that you were special … it just seemed to spell that out for you.
“The pub it is,” Finn pronounced. “And I’ll take the kids for a bit beforehand. Give you some time to yourself, at any rate. I should be home around three. Short practice day, Captain’s Run. We’ll leave at six, if that suits you.”
“That’s fine,” Jenna said. She’d have a bath, she decided. And dress up just a bit. It was her birthday, after all. She began to feel much more cheerful about the whole thing.
* * *
“No cake, even on your birthday?” Finn asked as they placed their dessert orders.
“Phew. No, thanks. I’ve had plenty to eat. I’ll take a decaf trim flat white, though,” she told their server.
“Whoa. Living large,” Finn said.
“Hey. Works for me,” she laughed. “Maybe I’ll be really decadent and have a second glass of wine at home, after we put the kids to bed. And you can help me toast turning thirty.”
“It’s a date,” he promised. “Have to be a nonalcoholic toast for me, night before the game. But it’s the thought that counts.”
“Is it time now?” Harry asked eagerly.
“Harry,” Sophie hissed. “Not yet. Wait till pudding comes.”
“Ooh, a surprise?” Jenna asked. “How exciting.”
“You have to wait,” Sophie said severely. “That’s the rule.”
“All right,” Jenna sighed. “I’ll try to be patient.” She winked at Finn and saw his answering grin.
“Now it’s time,” Sophie announced, when their desserts and Jenna’s coffee arrived at the table.
Harry dove underneath and produced the small bag he’d brought with him, pulled out two heavily decorated homemade cards, and knelt on his chair to put them in front of Jenna.
“Oh,” Jenna said helplessly. Harry’s card showed a curly-haired stick figure with a triangle for a skirt, beneath a laboriously printed “Happy Birthday Jenna.” The “J” was backwards, and Jenna’s heart twisted with love. She opened the card to find a hugely printed, “I Love You. From Harry.”
“It’s beautiful,” she told him. “Thank you, Harry.”
“Mine next,” Sophie urged her.
Sophie’s card was an explosion of color, featuring flowers and stars and heavily embellished with shiny stickers of hearts, rainbows, and more flowers. Jenna read aloud, “I hope you have a very nice birthday. Thank you for taking care of us. Love, Sophie.”
“Thank you,” she told the little girl. “It’s lovely. I’m going to put both of these next to my bed when we get home, so I can look at them every day.”
“That’s not all, though,” Harry said. “We have a really, really big surprise.” He pulled a gift-wrapped box out of the bag and reached again to place it ceremoniously in front of Jenna. “It’s your birthday pressie!” he announced, wriggling with excitement. “We all bought it. Daddy took us, but Sophie and I helped choose it. It’s really, really pretty. It’s for you to wear.”
“Harry,” Sophie hissed. “Don’t give it away. Wait till she opens it.”
“I didn’t say it was a necklace,” Harry protested. “I just said it was pretty.”
Sophie groaned and slapped her palm to her forehead as Finn and Jenna laughed.
“Never mind,” Jenna consoled a mortified Harry. “I’m opening it now anyway, see? I’m very surprised that you bought me a present. And so happy.”
She was happy, she realized, opening the white box and peeling back the tissue paper. In fact, she was in danger of crying, right here and now. Her mouth opened in genuine shock as she pulled back the final layer of paper and took out the greenstone pendant.
“You can’t be a real Kiwi if you don’t have a pendant,” Finn told her with a smile. “We reckoned you needed one.”
“It’s a koru!” Harry was bouncing in his seat now. “And it’s real pounamu, Jenna! It’s green, like your eyes! D’you like it?”
“I love it,” Jenna said fervently, holding the jade ornament in her hand, tracing the delicately carved spiral shape with her thumb. “It’s so beautiful. Thank you.”
She really was crying now, she realized. She picked up her napkin and wiped the tears away with an apologetic laugh, then put the black cord around her head, adjusting its length so the deep green spiral sat just beneath her collarbones, cool against her skin.
“Are you sad?” Sophie asked anxiously. “We thought you’d be happy. We thought it was pretty. We thought you’d like it.”
“It’s so beautiful,” Jenna told them through her tears. “Thank you.” She got up and went around to the other side of the table to give each of them a hug and kiss. Then looked across, her eyes meeting Finn’s. “Thank you,” she told him quietly. “This means a lot to me.”
“No worries,” He smiled back at her. “We did think it would match your eyes. And that the symbol was right, because the koru’s all about nurturing and peace, and I’d say that’s what you’re all about, too. It’s the symbol for new beginnings as well, and unless I’ve guessed wrong, I reckon that works. Your first thirty years may not have been everything you could’ve wished for, but the next thirty are a whole new story.”
“Why are you still crying?” Sophie asked as Jenna reached for another napkin. “Aren’t you happy?”
“Sometimes people cry when they’re happy too,” Jenna told her, pulling herself back under control and returning to her seat. “And right now, I’m very, very happy. Thanks to all of you.”
* * *
“Cheers.” Finn reached across the coffee table with his mug of tea and clinked it against her wine glass. “Happy thirtieth.”
“Thanks.” Jenna took a sip and set her glass down on the coaster. “And thank you for dinner, and my present.” She touched the pendant at her throat, traced the design with her finger. “I wasn’t expecting anything like this. You really did surprise me. I’m so touched.”
“We all wanted to do something. Did you have a good day, though? Hear from your family, and all?”
“Ah. That would be somebody else’s thirtieth birthday.”
“Not even your mum?” he asked in surprise. “Sorry. Has she passed away?”
Jenna shook her head, took another sip of wine. “Not dead. Let’s just say I don’t really have any family. But hey, that’s why I could come to New Zealand and reinvent myself. Which people have been doing for a long time now, right?”
“Well, I’d say you’ve done a good job of it.” He smiled across at her and lifted his mug again in salute. “Here’s to new beginnings.”
* * *
Jenna sat on her bed in her nightgown. She adjusted the black cord to lengthen it, then pulled the pendant over her head and sat fingering the koru, her fingers sliding once again over its pleasing coolness, the smooth, polished curves. She looked at the two cards, sitting as promised on her bedside table, and felt the lump rising in her throat again.
They’re not your family. She felt the truth of Natalie’s words like a blow to her chest. It had felt so much like it, though. Sitting in the pub, opening her birthday cards and reading their sweet messages. Knowing that Finn had gone to the trouble to take the kids shopping and, she knew, urge them to make those cards. And that he’d chosen something with such significance to her.
The koru’s all about nurturing and peace. And I’d say that’s what you’re all about, too. She’d spent her entire life wishing to be part of a family like
this, trying to find the kind of connection she’d felt tonight. First with her mother, then with Jeremy. And had never even come close, until now.
But Jeremy had got her here, she reminded herself again. Her life with him hadn’t worked out the way she had imagined it would, but he’d been a good friend once. Whatever she could say about this birthday, she was light years away from where she’d been ten years ago. She’d had her very first chance, that year, to get away from Las Vegas. And what a revelation it had been, even though it was only the first small step in the journey that had led her here.
“I got the job!” She had put her phone down that late spring day and given Jeremy an exuberant hug.
“Awesome,” he congratulated her. “Pity you can’t come back to En Zed with me, though. Mum told me we’re doing a trip to Queenstown for the skiing.”
“Winter does sound good,” she said, looking out her dorm window at the heat-baked sidewalks of the UNLV campus, the sprinklers arcing over green lawns. The mercury was regularly hitting ninety already, and it was only May. “Or just someplace cooler. I wasn’t looking forward to staying here. But New Zealand—I can’t ski. And I need to earn money for next year, you know that.” And most importantly, she wouldn’t even have been able to afford the plane fare.
“Two good reasons,” Jeremy admitted. “One, anyway. You could learn to ski. But being a counselor at a summer camp? Are you sure this is what you want? Kids, all the time?”
“If I’m going to be a teacher, it had better be,” she said. “And don’t start with that. You, the guidance counselor, my high school teachers, even some of my professors. Everybody.”
“Maybe the fact that everybody’s saying that should be telling you something. Teaching pays sod all, and business courses aren’t really any harder. You’re the one helping me with the maths.”
“It’s not what I want to do,” she reminded him as patiently as she could. “It isn’t what you want to do either, and you know it. At least I’m studying what I like.”
He grimaced. “Mum and Dad’re so keen for me to enter the firm, though. And I can always write on the side, like I’m doing now.”
Christmas Down Under: Six Sexy New Zealand & Australian Christmas Romances Page 61
