It Started with a Kiss

by Lisa Heidke

  I felt it was my right to get bent out of shape and feel insecure, self-esteem issues and all, but they were all so chatty and attentive, I actually felt sick from the sugar overload. I needed Rosie here to come out with a ‘fuck’ or at least an inappropriate gag now and then.

  After lunch, Jake and Ebony went to Bondi Beach and Tommy took me back to his.

  ‘Bed and a cuddle?’ he said as soon as we were inside the front door.

  Without waiting for a reply, he pulled me in close, kissing me as we stumbled into his bedroom. Tommy barely paused for air as he pulled me down onto his bed. ‘Take off your top, I want to kiss your tits.’

  ‘When you put it that way…’ I pulled off my shirt and bra.

  ‘Friday,’ he said, nuzzling my breasts. ‘I want you.’

  ‘You’ve got me.’

  He pulled himself up till we were face to face and kissed me hard on the lips. ‘Are we exclusive?’

  I hesitated before answering. ‘I’m not sleeping with anyone else right now, if that’s what you’re asking,’ I said, keeping it light. I’d known the guy less than a day.

  He pulled my hair and kissed my neck so hard I was afraid he might leave a mark.

  ‘Ouch. Easy.’

  ‘Friday,’ he said, pulling my hair tighter. ‘I don’t want you seeing anyone else.’

  Something wasn’t right. He meant business, but in an instant the thought was gone. One gentle push and he was flat on his back again, gleefully stroking and sucking my breasts.

  ‘So? I’m waiting,’ he said, minutes later.

  I sighed. Way to kill the mood. ‘No, Tommy, I’m not seeing anyone else.’

  ‘Good,’ he said, his intense blue eyes on mine. ‘Because I don’t share. Ever. Now how about we get rid of these jeans so I can fuck you properly.’

  And he did… again and again.

  This time, I was in control. I was the one calling the shots and it felt good, rather like his abs. Tommy sent my pulse soaring. I liked him because there was no way I could fall in love. Gorgeous, built and sweet, yes, but I wasn’t in danger of getting that head-over-heels rush I’d felt with Blake.

  So my fling with Tommy was just right, although he did have a tendency to plank.

  ‘Amazing,’ I said, too shattered to think after a couple of hours of vigorous exercise, when he showed me a photo of him planking across a child’s slippery dip at the local park.

  ‘Sick, hey?’ He smiled. ‘Took me a full hour to get that one right.’

  ‘What? Lying facedown, pretending to be a piece of wood?’

  He looked wounded for all of thirty seconds before I thrust my breasts into his chest and pulled him in tight.

  Good Lord! I was having sex with a guy who planked.

  ‘When will I see you again?’ said Tommy as I was getting dressed. ‘Tonight?’

  ‘I have the girls tonight.’

  ‘Tomorrow?’

  ‘I have to work.’

  ‘Okay, well when your schedule opens up, can we get together?’ He sounded pissed off.

  I reached up and kissed him on his forehead. ‘You bet.’

  But I wasn’t so sure.

  Jealousy—I recognised it. I’d been there. With Liam in the early days. I used to get wound up every time he smiled at a woman. It didn’t matter who. Waitress. Sales assistant. Friends. I got this warped suspicious pang and though I tried to control my emotions, it wasn’t easy. When we were apart, I’d wonder who he was seeing, talking to, sleeping with. If he was away at a conference, my nights would be consumed thinking about him, and what he might be doing.

  At the height of my jealousy, after seeing Liam and an unfamiliar woman at a cafe, I confronted him about the affair I assumed he was conducting. He wasn’t. But I was still jealous. Any time Liam spent with other women was time spent away from me.

  I look back on it now and think, ‘Why?’ After the girls were born and I started seeing Liam for the real but flawed person he was—that everyone is—I wasn’t so jealous anymore. Those intense feelings seemingly vanished overnight, maybe because I had a deeper love and connection with my children to satisfy me.

  Or maybe, I grew up. People getting jealous, their lives consumed by evil thoughts about who their partner is doing… no good can come of it. It’s an all-consuming disease that eats away at your insides. A greedy passion killer.

  So when Tommy mentioned exclusivity, it was like a blast from the past… a switch had been turned on again and those memories floated to the surface. Really, jealousy is a wasted emotion. I’m not saying I didn’t get pangs now and then, like about Liam staying at Brad’s and going out. But just because Liam might be flirting with other women, maybe even hooking up, didn’t diminish his feelings for me. At least that’s what I hoped. Like guilt, jealousy gets you absolutely nowhere.

  But I couldn’t say that to Tommy. He had to find out for himself. All I could say was that I wasn’t seeing anyone else, and I wasn’t. Blake was behind me. I was sticking to my guns about not responding to his messages and texts. After the episode at Maria’s and then at my house, I wasn’t about to pay him any more attention.

  As for Tommy, I might see him another couple of times, but I knew the fling wasn’t going anywhere.

  I pulled into the driveway barely fifteen minutes before the girls arrived home.

  Close call.

  23

  Monday morning I was back at work, with a full day of appointments ahead of me when Deirdre popped her head into my office. ‘Still looking fabulous, Fri. Such a change from recent weeks. I’m impressed.’

  I think I blushed. ‘Stress-induced glow, perhaps?’

  ‘Well, whatever you’re doing, keep it up.’ She paused a moment, turning her head to the side. ‘How are things with Liam?’

  I deflected as best I could. ‘Working through it.’

  ‘Of course you are. I can tell. You know, Derek and I have had our trials over the years but nothing a little playtime in the boudoir can’t fix.’ She grinned. ‘Hey?’

  I so didn’t want to talk about Deirdre’s sex life.

  ‘I’ve been thinking—’

  Oh no.

  ‘Would you be interested in working three days a week? Steve’s cutting back his hours, which will free up office space on Wednesdays and I’m having to knock back clients, which I’m not thrilled about.’

  ‘Sounds interesting. I’ll definitely think about it.’

  Deirdre smiled. ‘Good. More clients will keep you on your toes.’

  It was a possibility, especially given my personal situation. I could manage three days at the clinic and spend the other two concentrating on building up my own clientele. As much as I liked working with Deirdre, I did want to have a couple of days at home so I was there in the afternoons when the girls finished school.

  After a regular long-standing appointment with an ageing politician, Penny came in for her follow-up appointment.

  ‘How are you faring?’ I asked after she was seated. I was busily getting together several treatment blends that had been made up since she was last in.

  ‘Still not sleeping, I’m afraid.’

  I studied her face. She did look tired and drawn. I pulled up her notes onscreen and checked the strength of the sleep mixture I’d prescribed. It was on the mild side. ‘Sleep mixture not working?’

  She made a face. ‘Not really. I fall asleep all right, but it’s the staying asleep that’s the problem.’

  ‘I see. Let’s increase the dosage and see how we go. These things often take a little while to sort out. We might need to play around with dosage and quantities.’

  She looked a little concerned.

  ‘Don’t worry, we’ll get it right. Soon you’ll be feeling on top of the world.’

  I was looking up remedy mixes on the computer when Penny started talking again. ‘Maria tells me you’re newly separated?’

  I looked up at her. ‘Yes.’

  ‘It must be hard on your children. Sometimes I feel like a
single mum, too, just going through the motions with my husband. He’s away a lot and, when he is at home, he doesn’t engage. It’s hard on the kids.’

  ‘And you, I would imagine,’ I said, steering the conversation back to Penny.

  ‘I get by.’

  I sent Penny off with more mood enhancers, then called Maria.

  ‘Darling, I’m flying high,’ she said cheerfully.

  ‘Good, I hope it’s due to the potions I’ve prescribed you.’

  ‘Maybe.’ She giggled. ‘Or it could be the Moët talking, darling. How are you?’

  ‘Great. Oh, and thanks for recommending me to Penny. I’ve just seen her.’

  ‘She’s a doll, isn’t she? A bit anxious, but aren’t we all.’

  Maria ticked off my list, I had barely a spare moment to gulp a glass of water before a new referral, Kristi, was sitting in front of me.

  ‘Tell me about yourself.’

  And I was off and running again.

  Arriving home that afternoon, I walked into Evie’s bedroom and kissed her forehead. ‘Hi, beautiful. How was your day?’

  She shrugged, distracted, listening to The Angels belting out ‘Am I Ever Gonna See Your Face Again’.

  I left her to it and walked into the kitchen and unpacked a few homemade bakery items I’d bought on the way home. Peppermint tea in hand, I exchanged a few flirty texts with Tommy.

  He wanted to know what I was wearing.

  Nude, I replied.

  He seemed to like that.

  Minutes later, Evie ventured out of her room in search of food. ‘Mum,’ she said, patting my head, ‘I never realised you were such a midget.’

  Grr. ‘Thanks. Haven’t you got a history essay due tomorrow?’

  She scowled and turned to go.

  ‘Wait,’ I said, reaching for a container in the pantry. Two minutes later, both Evie and Olivia were eating chocolate caramel slice or, rather, Evie was licking hers, but both seemed content. After the usual questions about school, homework and friends, I broached the object of Olivia’s affections.

  ‘How’s Brodie? He’s allowed to come over, you know. Just not when I’m not here.’

  Olivia glared at me. ‘Mum, you’re always such a loon when he’s around. I think he’s scared.’

  I smiled. ‘Scared isn’t a bad thing.’

  She pulled a face. ‘He’s not really scared, I’m just embarrassed by you. We’re fifteen, not five. You don’t give us any space, always asking us when we’ll be back if we go to the beach, making him eat. It’s annoying.’

  ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t realise. Next time he comes over I’ll try not to be embarrassing or to feed him.’

  Liv glared at me. ‘And I wish you’d stop acting like he’s about to molest me.’

  ‘I don’t think he’s going to molest you, Liv. I’m looking out for you.’

  ‘No, you’re not. You just don’t want me to have any fun. I’m fifteen—’

  ‘Not five,’ I finished for her. ‘I get it.’

  She jumped down from her stool and stomped towards her room.

  Evie sat and watched as I pulled out vegetables from the fridge in preparation for the evening’s meal. ‘Brodie does come over. You just don’t see him.’

  I looked up. ‘How so?’

  ‘When you’re not here, like when you’re at Zumba.’

  My eyes widened. ‘Pardon?’

  ‘It’s none of my business.’

  ‘Maybe not, but it’s mine. Spill.’

  Evie shrugged. ‘He comes over.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘They hang out in her room, but don’t tell her I told you.’

  I scratched my head. That naughty girl. If she thought she could outplay me… ‘Other times?’

  Evie nodded.

  ‘I see.’

  ‘Mum!’ Olivia was shouting. ‘Some guy at the door for you.’

  Standing in the kitchen, my heart started pounding. I wasn’t expecting anyone.

  ‘Mum,’ Liv yelled again. ‘Hurry up.’

  I let out a deep breath and steadied myself. As I approached the door, I was surprised to see a man holding two dozen dark roses. So dark they were almost black.

  ‘Delivery for Friday Jones.’

  I was puzzled. ‘That’s me.’

  ‘Are they from Dad? I bet they’re from Dad,’ said Evie excitedly, when I walked back into the kitchen holding them.

  I checked for a card. There wasn’t one.

  ‘Well?’ said Evie.

  ‘I… er… yes, they’re from Dad.’

  ‘I knew it,’ she replied, before skipping down the hallway.

  But were they? I didn’t think so. The roses were almost Gothic in appearance. It was a bit freaky.

  I texted Tommy. Have you been sending me flowers?

  The reply was instant. No, I haven’t, but I’d like to know who is.

  Whoops. I’d texted too quickly. Anonymous flowers didn’t suit Tommy’s way of operating—at least I didn’t think so. He would have signed his name because he’d want me to know he was thinking of me.

  Then there was Blake. Blake sending me flowers? Unlikely. But they were my three choices, my only choices. Leaving out Tommy, the roses had to have been sent by Liam or Blake.

  In the kitchen, I trimmed the stems and arranged them in a long glass vase before placing them in the centre of the dining table. Stunning and dramatic! Come to think of it, Blake’s last text had mentioned doing ‘something dramatic’ if I continued ignoring him. But I was going to do exactly that, determined to move forward with my life without engaging further with Blake. Married Blake.

  Then my phone rang. Tommy.

  ‘So who is it?’

  ‘Who’s what?’ I asked pleasantly.

  ‘The guy who sent you the flowers?’

  ‘I really don’t know. Maybe they were a mistake.’

  I could hear Tommy clicking his tongue on the other end of the line. ‘I thought you said we were exclusive.’

  ‘Tommy, the girls are here. I can’t really talk at the moment. I’ll ring you later, okay?’

  He didn’t sound okay, but I managed to get him off the phone without further drama.

  ‘Why’s Dad sending you flowers?’ Olivia asked at dinner. ‘They’re massive.’

  ‘Does he need a reason?’

  Evie rolled her eyes. ‘They’re not from him.’

  ‘Pardon?’

  ‘I rang him and he said he didn’t send you anything, then got angry and hung up.’

  No! I didn’t think they were from him. ‘Evie,’ I said calmly. ‘Maybe Dad wanted to keep it secret, you know, like a secret admirer.’

  ‘Mum,’ said Olivia. ‘As if!’

  Fair point.

  I was cleaning up after dinner when Rosie popped in.

  ‘You must be bored. It’s only Monday.’

  ‘Hey. I’m here to talk business. Our next divorce party to be precise, this Friday, Kings Cross.’

  I cleared my throat. ‘Okay, but before we go there, take a look at the roses I received this afternoon from a secret admirer.’

  ‘A secret admirer, Nancy Drew? That’s exciting. Any idea who?’

  ‘Well, it can only be from one of three, but I can’t see any of them sending me flowers.’ The more I thought about it, the more convinced I became that the flowers weren’t from any of them. I couldn’t see Liam, Blake or Tommy sending me flowers—at least not anonymously. All three had egos. They’d all want recognition for their generosity.

  ‘My bet’s with Tommy. He’s a romantic at heart.’

  ‘Yes, well they’re not. I asked him. He wasn’t happy.’

  ‘Boys! Did you ring the florist?’

  ‘No luck. The girl on the counter couldn’t remember what the guy looked like. And he paid in cash.’

  ‘Smart. A truly secretive admirer.’ Rosie clicked her tongue. ‘How is Tommy, by the way?’

  ‘A diversion, nothing more.’

  Rosie arched her eyebrows. ‘W
e’ll see. So, apart from the anonymous flowers and Tommy being a diversion, how’s it going?’ Then as an afterthought, she added, ‘You have so many men, Fri, it’s hard to keep up.’

  ‘You can talk! And it’s going okay, but I’ve only known the bloke a couple of days. I’ll say one thing, he’s got stamina.’ I sipped my tea. ‘I have to end it before it goes any further.’

  ‘Why? Your problem is that you over-think everything. For God’s sake, just see it for what it is, a happy, romantic fling. A shagathon. No one’s asking you to marry the guy.’

  ‘But I feel like I’m using him.’

  Rosie laughed. ‘For sex?’

  ‘Yep.’

  ‘Please! Shut up and go for it.’

  ‘I guess. I really don’t want to end up like one of those older single women at the pub eyeing every able-bodied guy who walks by while pretending to wait for her imaginary friends to turn up.’

  ‘You won’t be if the roses are any indication. You’re not even trying and you’ve got three men vying for your affection.’

  ‘Lucky me.’

  ‘Don’t knock it, honey.’

  ‘Ha, soon enough, I’ll be propped up at some seedy bar, chugging back chardonnay and cashews, desperate for a man.’

  ‘For starters, you don’t like chardonnay or cashews.’ Rosie took a breath. ‘And who doesn’t like chardonnay and cashews? You’re weird.’

  I glared at her, refusing to comment.

  ‘Now then, we need to talk about the next divorce party at Kings Cross. I met Natalie this afternoon. She’s rather wild and this party’s going to be fun.’

  ‘How so?’

  ‘Trust me. She wants a dart board set up so she and her friends can sling arrows at a cardboard cut-out of her ex-husband’s head and she’s had voodoo dolls made.’

  ‘Great. They’ll be sticking pins in dolls’ eyes? Sounds like a hoot. I’ll be sure to take photos.’

  Rosie reached into her bag and pulled out some faux pearl bracelets. ‘Look at these Forget about Him bracelets. Aren’t they cute? I’m hoping to bring Natalie around to my way of thinking. Right now she’s got her heart set on her gang getting Angry Birds tattoos.’