Last Chance Proposal (Entangled Bliss)

by DeLeo, Barbara

  “Perseverance, that’s the key.” He stood and put the iron on the fabric. “Go and grab your toiletry bag, J. As soon as I finish this, we’ll be off.”

  Jonty and his squawking toy trotted down the hallway and Ellie put her bag on a chair. “What can I do to help?”

  Tongue between lips and his focus on the shirt, Cy nodded toward the counter. “Could you tidy the breakfast things? I thought we’d have been ready earlier than this but travel with a six-year-old isn’t straightforward. Who knew you had to pack five toy cars, a terror sword, a skimboard, and a polished paua shell to show your nana?” He lifted his head and grinned. “Thanks for the pukeko.”

  She busied herself with the breakfast things. “I thought that giving the real chick up might be tough on him.”

  “I hadn’t thought of that.”

  “I almost bought one for myself, they’re so cute.” She put the peanut butter in the cupboard. “I bet your mum’s excited about seeing Jonty.”

  Cy nodded. “I talked to her last night. She’s over the moon. We’d agreed in the beginning that it was best to not overwhelm Jonty with too many people on this trip. But look how well he’s responded to your family.”

  “He’ll sure miss Louis when he goes back to the States.” So would she. But it would all be worth it for Cy to have his son with him always.

  Cy tried to smooth the orange fabric under his hand. “I was thinking about that. Arrrgh!” He growled and flipped the shirt over. “What do you think Fleur would say if I flew her and Louis over at the end of next month? We’d be in the middle of the custody case, and it would be a great distraction for Jonty.”

  “They’d love it. I don’t think Lou’s ever been on a plane.”

  He sent her a smile and nodded. “It would be some company for you in the beginning. I could take Louis skiing, and I’m sure Fleur would love it.”

  She smiled at his thoughtfulness.

  “And it would look great for the case. Having your sister and nephew there would make everything look more legitimate. As if we were really together.”

  Ellie steadied her hand on the counter. Of course that was why he’d do it. For show, just as everything would be from now on. “It’s a fabulous idea,” she managed. “Can I be there when you ask Louis? He’ll go nuts.”

  “Ow!” Cy stuck his thumb in his mouth and pulled back a foot as if ready to kick the board. “This is craziness. Maybe we should put Jonty in a T-shirt after all.”

  Jonty raced in with another armful of toys. It would be a shame if he didn’t look his best for his nana. “Jonty, reckon you and I could give the ironing a whirl?”

  He nodded emphatically as he looked at his dad.

  Ellie took off her cardigan and rubbed her hands together. “Right, you go and get me some water in a jug and a little bowl, and we’ll see what we can do.” She stared down at the crumpled material. “I think I can remember how your great Nana Doris used to do it.” She nodded at Cy. “You, Mr. Hathaway, can sit down and watch.”

  Cy rolled his eyes and grinned. He put the iron down and dragged up an old cane stool. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you undertake domestic duties, Ms. Jacobs. This should be good.”

  She screwed her face into a mock frown and her body relaxed. “Watch and weep at the iron maiden, Mr. Hathaway.”

  Jonty came back with the water, and she poured some into the iron and asked him to pour the rest into the bowl. He poked out his little pink tongue, screwed up his forehead, and completed the task without spilling a drop.

  “Great job,” she said rubbing his back. “We’ll put the iron up here out of the way while the steam gets started. Now, your Nana Doris used to have an old pop bottle with a little thing on top that sprinkled out water, but I don’t think we’ll find one of those. Let’s try something else. I want you to put some water on your fingers like this.” She dipped her fingers in the bowl and dripped water on the shirt.

  Jonty’s eyes widened, then slowly he copied. As soon as he was finished, a broad smile tracked across his face.

  “It makes the shirt nice and damp so it’s easier to iron out the wrinkles.” She let her gaze drift to Cy at the table. His stubbled chin was in his hands and he looked more relaxed than she’d ever seen him.

  She put her fingers in the water, then turned and flicked them at Cy. “Hey!” he gasped, and his lips lifted in an indignant grin.

  In the next moment, Jonty’s hand shot into the bowl. He flicked water at his dad, his eyes as round as dinner plates. Cy lunged forward until his hand was in the bowl, and then he aimed first at Ellie, then Jonty. “So you think I’m all wrinkled, do you?”

  “Right,” Ellie yelled. “Come on, Jonty!” She raced into the kitchen, turned on the faucet, and she and Jonty flicked water at Cy.

  Cy ducked and dived and grabbed at Jonty, then Ellie, his arm snaking around her body before he drew her to him. Despite the enveloping closeness, Ellie squealed to be let go. Then she saw the glass of water that Cy lifted from the stainless-steel countertop.

  “No. Cy, no!” The cool, fresh scent of him seeped into her and she weakened inside his strong hold. “This is the only nice thing I’ve got. Don’t do it! Pleeeeeease!” Squirming, she giggled as the glass got higher and higher. Twisting around she caught the wink Cy threw at his son as the first drops were about to spill over the lip of the glass.

  Jonty jumped up and down, clapping his hands, his head bobbing. And then from out of his mouth, like church bells on a summer’s day, came a belly laugh.

  Cy stopped, frozen.

  Ellie’s heart swelled to bursting. Jonty looked at them, and then he laughed again. Ellie joined in, laughing so hard tears rolled down her cheeks.

  She turned to Cy and the look on his face undid her.

  His eyes were liquid, his Adam’s apple moving up and down. He shook his head, his hand still gripping the glass.

  Instinctively, she curled her fingers around the hand he held rigid by his side. When he looked at her, it was like reaching into her own soul. Every muscle in his face moved with a different emotion—happiness, fear, relief, confusion. Everything passed across his features and with each change he squeezed her fingers tighter.

  He let go of her hand, knelt down, and buried his head in Jonty’s curls. Ellie stepped back, the power of what she’d witnessed hovering around her like molten sunlight. Layer by layer, Cy was getting closer and closer to his son. His beautiful little boy was healing. And minute by minute she was starting to wonder if they really needed her anymore.

  Quietly she moved into the lounge and picked up the steaming iron, the orange of Jonty’s shirt swimming before her as she tried to squeeze away the tears. As she placed the hot steel onto the damp fabric, she hoped the hiss of steam would drown out the choking sobs that were boiling up from the deepest part of her. When had the minute rolled past—the second—that her connection to Cy changed from helping out a friend to something that had the capacity to hijack her heart?

  Later that morning, Ellie stood in the doorway of Cy’s mother’s house as Pat bent down and hugged her grandson tight. “I can’t wait for you to show me everything you got for Christmas, sweetie,” she said to her grandson, “but you’ll be hungry after your drive, so go and see what I’ve laid out for your afternoon tea first.” She gave him another squeeze. “Daddy told me you like the Tiny Teddy biscuits, so I got you some of those.” Jonty threw his pukeko and terror sword on the nearest chair and headed for the kitchen.

  “It’s so lovely to see you, Pat.” Ellie stepped into the open arms of Cy’s mother and kissed her cheek. “It’s been such a long time.”

  Pat hugged her close, then stood back to look at her, head tilted to the side. “When Cy called to tell me he was bringing you today I still had an image of a skinny girl trying to outdo the boys at surfing.” She grinned and her pale blue eyes sparkled. “He didn’t mention what a beautiful woman you’d become.”

  Ellie sensed Cy move closer and when his hand snaked around her wai
st, all the blood in her body pooled hot beneath his touch.

  “That’s because I wanted you to see for yourself, and to see the way we feel about each other.” Cy’s voice was low as he reached down and laced his fingers with hers, then lifted her hand to his lips. “Mum, Ellie and I are getting married.”

  “Married?” Pat put a hand to her chest and her mouth fell open. “But I didn’t even know you’d been back in touch with each other.” She gave Cy a playful slap. “Cy, you’re terrible. How could you have kept something so fabulous from me?”

  He nestled into Ellie and her knees went weak.

  If this were real, she’d lean back into his strong chest, feeling supported and loved.

  If this were real, she’d be used to the way the tiny hairs at the back of her neck stood up at the thought of his touch and the way her stomach flipped when he said her name.

  If this were real, she’d let herself acknowledge the warmth threading through her body and the extra beat to her heart.

  But this wasn’t real. It was a lie that she was as much a part of as he was, and there was no changing it.

  “We got back in touch when Ellie sent out the notices about the renovation, so it’s all happened really quickly,” Cy said. “What with having to get back to the States for the custody hearing, we decided to make the most the couple of weeks at the cove, get married next week, then head back to Colorado together.”

  “Next week!” Pat shrieked. Her arm was on Ellie’s now and the looping in Ellie’s stomach was turning into nausea. “We’ll never organize a proper wedding in a week.”

  “It won’t really be a proper wedding,” Ellie said, and for the shortest second she wanted to tell this lovely woman that none of this was true, not the words, not the touching, none of it. She felt the warning as Cy squeezed her finger. “What I mean is,” she continued, “we really need to get married so we can be together in the States, but we’d both love to have a proper wedding sometime, when the time is right.” The lies came all too easily now.

  Pat smiled, seemingly satisfied with the idea. “Well, I just can’t think of anything more wonderful,” she said, her eyes becoming glossy. “First loves finding each other after all these years.” She touched Ellie’s cheek. “And I couldn’t think of a more perfect mother to my grandson.”

  Ellie swallowed past the lump in her throat.

  “I don’t have any bubbles, I’m afraid,” Pat said as she wiped her eyes. “Sherry will have to do. You lovebirds take a seat while I check on Jonty, and then we’ll toast your beautiful engagement.”

  When she was gone, Ellie slipped from Cy’s touch and crumbled into the nearest seat, the dryness in her mouth making her voice catch. “That was terrible,” she whispered.

  “I know. I’m sorry.” Cy took the seat opposite her and rubbed his thighs. His voice was low. “We had to do it but it’s over now. Mum’s a realist, she’ll understand when she finds out.”

  They sat in silence, listening to Pat chatting to Jonty about how lovely it would be having Ellie come back to the States with them.

  “Telling Mum has proven one thing,” Cy said. “She believed us totally. If anyone ever did ask if she believed our relationship was real, I’m sure she’d say yes.”

  Ellie nodded and sat back in her chair with a sigh. “That’s why telling her the truth is going to be so hard.”

  …

  Cy couldn’t pull his gaze from Ellie as she pushed his son higher and higher in the swing. Her head was thrown back, hair flaming chestnut in the late afternoon sun, her tinkling laugh surrounding him like a cloak.

  They’d accomplished everything they needed to in Auckland, including finding an engagement ring that was getting resized, and he couldn’t wait to get back to the cove, even if their time was running out. The pressure of the lie they were about to embark on squeezed his insides.

  His mother had wished them well. She’d be at the wedding, of course, and she’d come over to support them through the custody hearing. She’d seemed so happy. If only they were getting married for real.

  Cy leaned an elbow on the picnic table. He listened to Ellie chatting to his boy about all the things they’d seen in the city and what they might do when they got back to the beach.

  For a minute, she stopped pushing and looked at Cy, a careful smile touching her face. Everything she’d done in the last two days had been careful, as if she were uncertain how he’d react. As she brushed hair from her cheek, he remembered the way her body had molded to his, the way she’d been confident enough to show him what she wanted when they’d made love.

  He shook the memory and stood. He couldn’t let Jonty sense any of his confusion. His son needed to believe his world was stable now, unshakeable. That nothing, and no one, could cause him anxiety again.

  As the swing slowed, Jonty dragged his feet on the ground, then jumped, and with his toy pukeko tucked firmly under his arm, ran to a slide on the opposite side of the playground. Still wearing the knitted sweater his nana had given him this morning for Christmas, he’d be sweltering in the summer sun.

  “Come on, Cy,” Ellie called as she took the empty swing, her back to him.

  Hands in his pockets, he stayed where he was. Trying to forget how the silky hair falling in rivers down her back had felt against his chest.

  “Come on. Give me a push at least.”

  He drew closer and placed his palms on the bare skin where the fabric of her sundress dipped. Breathless desire tore through him. His fingers tingled with the touch and his senses filled with her flowery fragrance. He pushed her away and she came swinging back, directly into his palms. Again, the fizz of closeness raced through him.

  No matter how much he tried to bury this physical need for her, it wasn’t working.

  “Higher,” she yelled. “I want to fly.”

  He stepped back and pushed her hard and her head tossed back, her hair softly grazing his arms as she swung away.

  More and more he pushed, and each time she flew away, the desire in his limbs to be near her again grew with each touch.

  He pushed her so high that the chains were almost parallel to the ground.

  “Jonty!” she cried. “Jonty, look at me fly!”

  From the top of the slide, Jonty waved at her, grinning widely.

  They could be a family. Anyone driving by could look and see a son playing on a slide, a father pushing a mother on a swing. But this picture wasn’t real, and the lie sat bitter in his mouth. It was a distortion. A man who’d asked a woman to put her life on hold to help him, a woman who didn’t want children but who’d sacrifice months of her career to be with a little boy because the man had nowhere else to turn.

  He looked over to where Jonty pretended to give his toy pukeko a slide. He hadn’t had a panic attack in four days, and for the first time in weeks, Cy began to feel that he was contributing to his son’s progress, too. Being careful about each new experience, what he was exposed to and what he wasn’t, was so important and would be for months to come.

  “Swing with me,” Ellie called to Cy, her voice high and fluting. To stop himself thinking, he folded himself into the swing beside her and pushed off.

  As he swung higher and higher with Ellie beside him and his son waving from the slide, he had the strangest sensation of being out of control, hurtling through space and being free. He let out a whoop and Ellie whooped back. Jonty came running from his slide waving his toy pukeko above his head.

  “Do you remember?” Ellie asked, panting as her swing slowed. “When you built that tire swing out on the rocks by Leo’s Point?”

  He nodded. “And you were too scared to use it.”

  Tossing her head back, she groaned. “It was such a long way down. I watched you doing it day after day, telling me it would be all right but it seemed so far. Such a risk.”

  Cy nodded, memories flooding him. “But you did it. One day you came out there with the rest of us. I remember the determined look on your face when you pushed to the front of
the queue.” His swing slowed, and he dragged his feet along the bark chips.

  “I’ll never forget how it took my breath away,” she said. “The sense of accomplishment, of leaping out into the air, hoping I’d made the right decision that what you’d said was true and it would be all worth it in the end.”

  His swing had stopped and the chain links burned beneath his grip. He pushed his glasses on top of his head so he could see her better. “What made you do it?”

  “What do you mean?”

  He concentrated on the light in her amber eyes and pushed out the question. “Why did you think it would be all right? After being scared so long, why did you decide to take the chance, get on that swing, and leap off into the sea?”

  “Because I trusted you.”

  The steel of the swing chain heated beneath his grip. “Me?” The thump of the pulse in his throat almost buried the word.

  She blinked. “I’d seen you build it and watched you jump off dozens of times. When you told me it was safe, that you’d watch me while I did it, and come get me if I needed you, I believed you.”

  The chain links threatened to cut into Cy’s fingers as he clenched them, a hundred-pound weight settling across his shoulders. If doubt had begun to crawl through his head since they’d made love, then this shot him between the eyes.

  He’d meant what he’d said about no more sex, about keeping their distance for the sake of Jonty. And she believed him. Trusted him. But he didn’t trust himself. The whole time they’d been in this playground he’d imagined seducing her. She didn’t want a long-term relationship, didn’t want to be a wife or mother and he was already asking her to put her career on hold.

  The metal links burned beneath his hands. Words hadn’t worked, actions hadn’t worked, someway, somehow he had to face the agony of his relationship with Ellie and solve this mess once and for all. It was the only way for them all to come out of this whole.

  …

  Ellie sat in the hall the next morning putting the finishing touches to Jonty’s tree costume for the dress rehearsal. The hall was hot as the sun beat through the high windows and the old overhead fans creaked in their effort to move the air around. Groups of kids waited for their turn to perform and parents sat around chatting.