by Joanne Hill
Shock went through him at that statement. He wouldn't have thought there was all that much to second guess with the Taylors. They were, after all, a family the community had looked up to.
“I never knew your father well. I know he cared for his students and that he was strict. He could be very strict.”
Her eyebrows arched and he commented dryly, “I was on the receiving end of it plenty of times at school.”
“That was Dad. Strict to a “t”. He had rules for Kelly and me. We didn't tend to break them.”
It had never crossed his mind that he was strict with his own daughters. For a start, they weren't running wild and, academically, they had both shone.
“But,” she went on, “I had the focus of medical school to keep me out of mischief.” She twisted her mouth in memory.
“You were dedicated.”
She nodded. “I knew the competition was stiff, that I'd be competing with kids who'd been educated at private schools, kids who had resources at their fingertips we never had at Kopane High.”
He analyzed this. “So you felt you were on the back foot? That you had something to prove?”
“I didn’t just feel I was on the back foot, I knew it.” She took a sip of her wine, then another before she set the glass back down. “I’d have to move down to Auckland, live with strangers, I didn't know anyone at all, and to top it off, I had no friends coming down to university with me.” She paused as another business colleague greeted Jack, and when he’d moved off, Jack focused his attention back on her.
“And it was around then you met your husband?”
She nodded.
She’d told him Edwin had been several years older than her, that he’d been her first serious boyfriend. It had been the classic situation really.
“Anyhow,” she said as she cut into her chicken, “I never had it as bad as you.”
He did a double take at her. “Are you serious? You had a broken marriage, and two kids. You had to raise them on your own. I’ve never had that; I've only had to worry about myself. I didn’t have to worry about two other lives that depended on me, and struggle doing it.”
Her lips flattened wryly. “It’s true that at times it has been a real struggle.”
He knew that was what fuelled her kids clothing business.
“Have your parents ever helped out?”
She paused, then shook her head firmly. “No.”
He'd wondered about that. “Surely they'd help you out. Help out with their grandkids.”
She met his questioning stare full on. “I’ve never asked them. I don’t want them to know how tough it is.”
“Why ever not?”
“It’s hard to explain.”
He challenged her. “Try.”
“Okay,” she shrugged, but there was nothing casual about the movement. “I don't want them to know because I seem to continually disappoint them.”
He felt his own eyebrows shoot up in disbelief. “Why on earth do you think that?”
“Because it’s the truth.” The conviction in her voice made him set down his knife. The steak could wait. “Explain it to me then.”
“I really don't think —”
“Robyn. Just tell me. We’ve got all night.”
She was about to protest, when he lowered himself to about as low as he could go, and played the trump card. “It’ll take my mind off everything else. Off Eric and Val.”
She smoothed down her napkin and set it in front of her. “Okay.” She fingered the stem of her wine glass. She was fiddling and it was clear she really didn’t want to tell him.
“My parents had high expectations for me. Study medicine, graduate, be a doctor and specialize. Now...” She raised her shoulders in a look-at-me-now gesture. “I’ve got two kids I’m struggling to support, a failed marriage, and a business I'm trying to set up which statistically has a really good chance of failing.”
He frowned. “But you're happy with the plans for the business aren’t you? I've seen your passion for it; you get a distant look in your eyes. I've seen you with that look when you’re doodling — drawing — on a scrap of paper. It’s inspiration. It’s passion.”
The corners of her mouth turned up a fraction, and then she said, “I do love it and if it succeeds I'll be so happy. To take what was purely a hobby and something I did to save money and have it as an income? It's a dream.”
He sensed the 'but' and said it. “But...”
“It's not what my parents wanted for me.” Her tone was subdued. “They wanted bigger things. Greater things. Academic achievement was important to them.”
“Hang on a minute.” Jack straightened, tension rippling through his body as he understood just what she was telling him. What she believed. “You are seriously telling me that your father doesn’t believe that starting up this business is a good enough career for you?”
She met him squarely, defiant at his disbelief. “Absolutely, he doesn't.”
He rubbed his hands roughly up and down his face. He remembered his talks with Principal Taylor, those times he’d been hauled into the office, remembered the words he’d said about both his daughters. He had high hopes. No. They weren't hopes. They were expectations.
Again, it had never occurred to him that the principal, who was strict with his students, was the same with his own daughters.
Robyn went on, “There was never any other option, no Plan B. It’s what I worked towards in high school, and I got in to med school. I got half way through and...”
She stopped suddenly and toyed with her wine glass again. “My father was — disappointed I fell pregnant. Although disappointed is putting it mildly. And naturally Edwin didn't want children. At all.” She breathed in deep. “He was so furious when he found out, he was adamant the only thing for me to do was book into a clinic and get an...”
She didn't say the words and anger rose in Jack’s throat. Ruby and James.
“Then he was a bastard.”
“I never planned to have children either but when I found out I vowed that I would do it all. Have the babies and finish my studies.” Her mouth twisted. “It didn’t work out that way.”
He was taken aback by the flash of regret across her face, and she drained her glass. The wine had gotten rid of any inhibitions. She was telling it all from the heart now.
“I should have known better. Even though I won the scholarship, it barely covered one semester’s tuition. My parents paid a lot of money for me to go university.”
“Is that what this is about? The money?”
“Part of it.”
“But you have two beautiful kids.”
She was silent a moment. “Whom they never visit.”
“Then plan a trip to the Gold Coast. I'll pay your airfares.”
She looked straight at him then, her eyes intense and honest and raw. “And ram home to them just how I ruined my life?”
Shock hit him, pummelled him, as if Ruby and James were his own children, his own flesh and blood. “Your folks would not think that.” How could they look at the twins and possibly think they had ruined their daughter’s life, even for a second?
She gave a laugh tinged with bitterness. “You’ve never heard them lament the fact I’ve been reduced to a statistic, a solo mum, when I could have been...” She didn’t finish the sentence.
He was silent a moment. “Whose regret is this Robyn? Theirs — or yours?”
The look she gave him was like a sharp slap to his face. Her jaw dropped. “I don’t regret having my children.”
He let a few seconds tick by, took a sip of his wine. “You sure about that?”
“Of course.” She faltered suddenly, thinking, but he saw the moment she straightened, her shoulders going back, her chin lifting. “That was a despicable thing to say.”
“Yeah, I know.”
Her jaw clenched with frustration. “Then why say it?”
“To make you realize you can’t live your life by your past mistakes and by other
people’s plans for your life.”
“Ruby and James aren’t a mistake. They’re the best. They’re my life.”
“So why talk as if they aren’t?”
“I don’t...” She faltered again.
He looked away from her, left her thinking about it as he refilled his glass, then hers.
She said, “Do I?”
He turned back. “Don’t you?”
He was met with silence.
He went on, “You regret you never finished med school. You regret you disappointed your family. You regret you wasted money on tuition your father will never get back. You regret that you were stupid enough to have sex with a man and not use contraception. You regret you have lived a life you hadn’t planned, while the life you had planned as a kid back in the sanctuary of Kopane —”
“Stop it!” She almost yelled the words, then blushed as she realized people were staring. “I get the picture.”
“Take your own advice for a change Robyn. You never know. It might just actually work for once.”
She looked shaken, but he knew why he’d said it. Pushed it.
She infuriated him like no one else ever had. She got in to him, challenged him, made him think.
She'd changed his life.
And damn it, he was so attracted to her.
Aware of her.
Wanted to reach across the table, take her face in both his hands and kiss her senseless.
He wanted to do more than that.
She was staring into her glass of wine. So much for a nice night out before he flew with Eric to Canada. He needed to change the subject. Needed to get his mind off the fact her finger was tracing a seductive pattern on the wine glass that made him wonder how it would feel if she was tracing that pattern on him.
He coughed to clear his throat, drank down some ice cold water, set the glass down.
He plucked a comment out of the air. “Emily's settling into her new place.”
“Oh, good.” She looked relieved at the change of subject, even though it was completely random. “Though I think Ethan got used to her being around. Now she’s gone, he seems lonely.”
“That's why he agreed to babysit.”
“Ditto, Sage. She’s at a bit of a loss, too. Harriet left on a school trip today.”
Just thinking of Ethan and Sage made him shift in his seat. Sage with her apples and Ethan with his six pack.
Two people with an intense distrust of each other.
Robyn scrutinized him. “What? What are you thinking?”
He shook his head. “It’s nothing.” He ground more pepper over his steak, then set the grinder down with a sigh.
Robyn sat back. “You’re not comfortable with them being there. Are you?”
He realized he was frowning and he shook away the encroaching doubt. “I’m fine with it. Those kids are in very capable hands. They have two fully grown, mature...” His voice caught a fraction on the word mature. He tried again. “Mature adults looking after them. What can go wrong?”
“Nothing. Of course nothing.” Robyn pushed her dinner around with her fork. “I mean, I’ve known Sage a few years now and she loves the children. Of course, nothing will go wrong.”
“Ditto, Ethan.” Jack stabbed a bean. “He’s the guy you want on your side when you’re heading into battle. Great guy.”
Robyn poked her fork around a bit more, then sighed and set it down. “Although I’ve never seen two people react to each other like that. You only have to mention Ethan's name and Sage just —” she snapped her fingers.
“The way they manage to rub each other up the wrong way...”
Jack’s steak suddenly looked tasteless.
He met her gaze. “So is the chicken good?”
“It is. Was.” She looked perplexed, worried. “What do you think?”
“I think we’ll skip dessert,” he said.
She put her napkin on her plate. “Mrs P made carrot cake earlier. With cream cheese frosting.”
He rose to his feet. “Then let's go home. Now.”
Ten minutes later Jack pushed open the front door and let Robyn rush through to the lounge.
There was silence save for the monotonous drone coming from the TV.
Sage sat on a chair, her legs curled up, watching a cooking show, nibbling on sliced apple. She raised her eyebrows, but her jaw was tight, her back rigid. “I thought you’d be back much later than this.”
“Thank heaven they’re not.” Ethan rose from the other end of the lounge, where he sat with a beer, and a business magazine.
He grabbed Jack by the arm and jerked his thumb towards Sage. “Have you seen what she’s watching? There was a freaking game on tonight and she's watching some dumb ass cooking DVD.”
“Then it’s a good job we came home early.”
Ethan stared. “You came home early?”
“Thought you two might be tearing your hair out. Or each other's. And I don’t mean in a good way.”
“Well, hell.” He rammed his hands in his pockets and grimaced apologetically. “Our childishness has ruined your evening.”
“Don't be sorry.” He glanced at Robyn who was disappearing upstairs to check on the children. She couldn't get up there fast enough. Had the Ethan and Sage thing been an excuse? Their dinner conversation had hardly been light and bubbly.
“Well, since you're back...” Ethan shot a glance at Sage, and raised his voice pointedly. “Our job here is done.”
Sage stood up, uncurled, gave a dramatic stretch.
“After you,” she said.
“Ladies first.”
She grabbed her satchel from the floor by her feet and headed out to the porch. “I'm not going until I say goodbye to Robyn.”
Ethan followed and stood next to her in the hall, but with distance between them. “Ditto.”
“She was my friend first,” Sage shot back as Robyn joined them.
Ethan rolled his eyes. “Though maybe I should go first so I don't get stuck behind your so-called vehicle out there.”
“Oh, and your stupid big “look at me, I'm so macho” truck isn't adding to society's problems?”
Ethan stared at her as if she were insane. “Haven't you got more to worry about than some namby pamby theory?”
“Namby pam — Are you serious?” Sage's voice lowered a dangerous pitch. “Atmospheric carbon dioxide is increasing and anyone with an ounce of intelligence can see that humans are the reason.” Her face was getting redder with each breath. “Humans are the worst offenders. Especially humans with offensive penis replacements for a car.”
Ethan moved a step closer so he now towered over her. “Open your mind and accept that we are in the middle of a warming trend that began, oh, like a couple of hundred years ago. The science is clear. The planet came out of a cold spell that lasted centuries and what is going on now is perfectly normal.”
Sage fumed. “And you are prepared to bet the future of this planet on that pseudo science? Please.”
“Oh, come on. Pseudo science, are you kidding me? You are being sucked in and you can't even see it. I'd never have taken a ball-busting woman like you for a complete sucker.”
“How dare you.” Sage's nostrils flared, her bosom heaved beneath her khaki shirt.
Suddenly, inexplicably, the air in the room became charged.
Sage took a jerky step closer towards Ethan and Robyn experienced a sharp twinge of panic. Sage had excelled at self defence at her Woman for Life classes, and although she’d taken the oath that her knowledge was only to be used in actual real self defence, she’d once told Robyn that if any man annoyed her enough, she would use her skills, the oath be damned.
Ethan moved closer, and her hand instantly went to his chest, and stopped. Splayed across the tight black t-shirt.
Her body seemed to sway a fraction and Robyn did a double take. This was no self defence move she’d witnessed before.
Ethan leaned forward so they were only inches apart. He bent his head, his lips a
fraction off hers.
He muttered something and Sage let out a low groan.
“What is she doing?” Robyn muttered.
Jack was half shielding his eyes.
Ethan wrapped his arm around Sage, pulled her so hard their bodies slammed up against each other. Her arms went around him and linked as Ethan bent his mouth to Sage and kissed her.
Sage pressed herself even closer to him and Robyn blinked to correct her vision. This couldn't be happening.
“What the hell is going on?” Jack’s voice was thick with shock.
Robyn couldn't find her voice. She tried to speak but nothing came out.
“This can’t be good,” Jack muttered.
Sage suddenly tore herself away, breathing heavily and Ethan swore under his breath, ran his hands through his short hair and stepped back.
“Well, I...” Sage clutched her bag tighter to her chest, and avoided looking at anyone as Ethan inspected his shoe.
“Goodnight,” Sage said, her face pink, and with a quick look at Ethan she pushed back her shoulders and walked out the front door.
Robyn glanced uncomfortably at Jack who now glared at Ethan.
Ethan held up his hand. “Don’t say a thing.”
Jack ignored him. “Just what the hell was that?”
Ethan exhaled and glanced out the door. He looked shaken, exhausted. He shook his head. “I've got no idea.”
He looked for a moment as if he wanted to run out the door after Sage, but then her van revved loudly in the driveway, backfired, and they all winced. It revved again and with a squeal of tires it puttered down the road.
“I'm going to check on the kids again.” Mercifully, Robyn had found her voice. “Make sure they haven't inadvertently seen anything that might scar them for life.”
She shot a glare at Ethan who repeated, between gritted teeth, “Nothing went on.”
Robyn disappeared up the stairs and Ethan leant against the wall.
“Ethan.” Jack shook his head and now the shock had worn off, tried not to smile.
“Yeah. I know.” Ethan was silent a minute. “Do you mind if I sleep on the couch for the night?”
“Not up to going back to an empty house because you are a pathetic man?” Jack suggested.
