by Kilby, Joan
Remembering how he liked to keep shoes off in the house, Katie slipped out of her pumps and followed him to the kitchen, where exotic spices wafted from a pot bubbling on the stove. In the doorway she leaned against the jamb and watched him lift the lid and give the contents a stir, a small frown putting creases between his eyes.
“Hard day?”
“The usual.” He replaced the lid and turned down the gas burner.
“Tuti had a tough day, too.” Katie glanced over her shoulder. The girl wasn’t in sight but just in case, she kept her voice low. “The other kids laughed at her, made her cry.”
John had been about to take a sip of beer. Instead he set the bottle on the granite counter. “What happened?”
“Her pigtails. I’m sorry but they looked ridiculous. It was really embarrassing for poor Tuti.”
“Don’t kids have anything better to worry about than another child’s hairstyle?”
“Sure they do, like who has the newest video game, or who let out a fart in class. These are kids, John. They can be unbelievably sweet. And they can be unthinkingly cruel.”
“But you fixed it, right? Her hair looks fine now.”
“Yes, but I can’t ask Miranda to do her hair every day.”
Wearily he scrubbed a hand across the back of his neck. “What do you suggest?”
“I’m going to teach you to make a proper pigtail and also to braid.” She smiled. “Tuti’s a trendsetter now. After today, any little girl who doesn’t show up to grade one without two tiny braids in her hair is going to suffer.”
“You want me to learn to braid hair.” He spoke as if she’d asked him to put on a tutu and dance ballet.
“You’re a single dad. It’s part of what you do. Don’t worry, anyone can learn.”
Half an hour later, she was beginning to wonder if that was true. Tuti sat on a tall stool in front of the bathroom mirror, eating an ice-cream bar. John, who could splice rope and tie complicated sailor’s knots, was all thumbs when it came to braiding Tuti’s hair.
“It’s so slippery.” His blue police shirt was damp beneath his arms and he frowned in concentration, his tongue tucked in a corner of his mouth.
Katie was feeling less than cool herself, crammed into the small bathroom so close to John their elbows bumped. She could feel his body heat and smell the long day in his clothes. If she didn’t care about him, why was she so aware of him physically, or notice how he kept glancing at her instead of watching what he was doing?
“You’ve almost got it. Don’t let go of the strands. You’re doing well.” She had to hand it to him, once he’d accepted that hairdos were an integral part of childrearing he’d stuck to it. “Now, gather the braid and the clump of hair. No, don’t just bunch it into the elastic, you have to brush it first so it’s smooth.”
He fumbled and half the pigtail fell through his fingers. Keeping a tight hold on the rest of the hair, he glanced to her for help. Her arm brushed his and their fingers touched as she gathered up the lock of hair and passed it into his grip.
Golden bristles of his five-o’clock shadow glinted in her peripheral vision. His jaw was set. Katie held her breath. When they’d been together he’d been little more than a gangling youth. Now she was very aware he had a man’s strength and air of authority.
Suddenly she saw her avoidance of him over the years in a new light. His smile, his charm, his blue eyes…all were lethally attractive, dangerous given she didn’t want to be involved. Now she’d gotten herself into a situation of having to be around him. What kind of an idiot was she? She’d been hurt by him once. Could she trust herself not to fall for him again? She didn’t want to take that chance. But what choice did she have? She was committed to helping Tuti.
He pulled the elastic over the pigtail. “Your daddy’s doing a good job,” Katie said to Tuti in the mirror.
The girl gazed at her quizzically.
“She knows me as Bapa.” John gingerly let go of the pigtail and stood back. “How’s that?”
Bapa. Talk about a cold splash of reality. As adorable as Tuti was, every time she looked at the little girl she was slapped in the face with John’s betrayal, with proof that in her hour of need John had abandoned her. She’d thought she knew him but she hadn’t really known him at all.
Katie tugged Tuti’s pigtail gently to tighten the elastic and tucked a braid into place. “Good effort. Now tie on the ribbons and make a bow.” He reached for two ribbons from the collection at random. “No, they have to be the same color.”
“Close enough.”
“Would you wear socks of two different colors?” Glancing down at his feet, she laughed. “Oh, my God. You are. Can’t you tell navy from black?”
“No, I can’t.” His dimple deepened. “Remember?”
Now that he’d reminded her, she did. Her crack about his socks must have come from her subconscious. The first time they’d spent the night together, at the Forsters’ beach cottage, giddy with love, they’d had a silly discussion over his socks. He’d sworn black was blue and vice versa. She never had figured out if he really couldn’t tell the difference or if he’d just been teasing her.
“Luckily Tuti’s ribbons only give you a choice of blue or white.” Even hair accessories had to be in the school colors.
John wound a ribbon onto each pigtail and tied two perfect bows. He met Katie’s gaze in the mirror. “Do I get a gold star?”
A corner of her mouth lifted. “You’ll pass.”
Very casually he added, “Would you like to stay for dinner, as you know, friends do? I’m making Beef Rendang.”
Tuti’s bright gaze darted between her face and his.
His use of the word “friend” had been a deliberate reminder of her side of the bargain. Katie was tempted, and by more than the rich aroma of ginger, garlic and chili permeating the house. Tuti’s origins aside, she liked John. Plus, she’d promised not to slight him.
On the other hand, she didn’t want to get involved in a relationship again and she got the feeling that’s what he was angling after. Yes, she felt an attraction and she enjoyed his company but that didn’t make certain issues disappear. Being around him reminded her of the good times, but also of the bad times, the cancer and the treatments. And being rejected not only in her hour of need but also at the moment she had stood up for what she believed in. He hadn’t backed her. As much as she might be attracted to him, if being with him meant having to sacrifice a part of herself, well then, she couldn’t do it. What if her cancer did recur someday. Would he do anything differently? She couldn’t risk being hurt again.
Just because they were trying to be friends didn’t mean she had to accept every invitation.
“Thanks, but I’m going home to write. My contract arrived today. I really need to get some work done on my book.” It wasn’t just an excuse. Her deadlines, while exciting, were also scary. She was a tiny bit afraid she’d bitten off more than she could chew.
A refusal was usually his cue to tease her about working too much, and list the menu items in an attempt to lure her to his dining table. Then he would tease and torment until she was struggling between laughing and wanting to slap him.
But all he said was, “Another time, then.”
As if it was nothing to him, either way. Just for a second Katie almost felt as if she’d been rejected. But that was stupid. She’d been the one to turn down the offer. She didn’t like it when he was too persistent. She’d wanted him to ease up. She cou
ldn’t possibly be missing his teasing.
“Off you go, Tuti,” John said. “Go change out of your school clothes so you don’t get them dirty.”
Tuti waggled her head to watch her pigtails bounce, then ran out of the bathroom. A moment later Katie heard the back door slam. Not going to her room to change as she’d been asked. John was straightening up the collection of pink and purple barrettes, scrunchies and hair bands that had bloomed alongside his shaving accessories on the bathroom counter.
Wasn’t he going to go after her, make sure she did as she was told? Had he even noticed? Should she say something? Being a teacher, Katie was used to making children behave. She bit her lip to stop from speaking out. It was none of her business if Tuti got her dress dirty and couldn’t wear it tomorrow.
She turned to leave. “I can let myself out.”
“I’m coming, too. Make sure that rendang isn’t sticking to the pot.”
She walked ahead of him down the narrow hallway lined with Forster family photographic portraits.
“Which one of our adventures are you going to write about tonight?” John asked.
Katie’s step faltered and her cheeks warmed. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Come on, Katie. It’s obvious I’m Monkey.”
He’d guessed. Well, she supposed it wasn’t that hard. She’d never expected he would read the book and since no one else knew half the places they went and things they did, she hadn’t thought he would find out.
“Well?” John prompted.
She stopped in the narrow hall and faced him. “I probably should have asked you first. Do you mind very much?”
“We had some adventures, didn’t we? You really captured the fun we had.” In the shadowed hallway he held her gaze, his eyes gleaming.
Memories of sunlit golden days rose up, of them lying together on beaches, in grassy meadows. Her gaze drifted down to his firm lips, curving humorously. Her heart beat faster. She wanted to kiss him. But that was crazy.
She had to glance away. “You didn’t answer my question.”
“Well, I don’t know. You spurned any contact with me yet drew on our shared history for your stories…”
“I’m sorry.”
“On the other hand, I’m flattered I played such an important role in your life.” His fingertips touched her jaw, turning her face so she had to look at him. “And clearly still do.”
“No.” She was protesting the intensity of her own feelings as much as his words. She turned and started walking again, urgently needing to be on her way. “Our past is merely grist for the writer’s mill.”
He followed her. “What will you do when you run out of the past?”
“I’ll, why, I’ll go on my own adventures.” She reached the foyer and breathed a little easier. “I don’t need to rely on you now. In fact I’m going on adventures all the time.”
“Really? What was the last adventure you went on?” He sounded mildly amused. “I might be interested in trying it myself. And I’ll enjoy reading your next book having inside knowledge.”
Katie straightened her shoulders. “All right. I haven’t done anything nearly as exciting or dangerous as the stuff we used to do together. But I’m going to.”
John’s smile faded. “You shouldn’t be doing dangerous activities on your own. That’s not what I meant. What are you considering?”
Damn. He’d trapped her. She hadn’t exactly been planning base jumping expeditions but she couldn’t let him think she wasn’t capable of acting on her own. “Not life threatening, just challenging.”
He crossed his arms. “Like what?”
“Like…” She racked her brains. “Mountain biking. I hear there are some great trails in Red Hill.”
“I know those trails. They’re pretty gnarly. Have you ever been off road?”
“I ride into the village center to shop or go for a coffee.” Her chin lifted. “Sometimes I ride along the chip bark path through the reserve.”
He shook his head, chuckling. “In other words, you’ve still got your training wheels on when it comes to off road.”
It was true she’d only ridden her mountain bike on roads and groomed paths. But how dare he call her capacity for derring-do into question? If she wanted to break her neck it was none of his business. “I’ll see you next Tuesday. Say goodbye to Tuti for me.”
“Don’t go off in a huff.” John touched her arm.
“I’m not in a huff. I just have to go.” She pulled away, moving toward the front door. “Where are my shoes?”
“Where did you leave them?”
“Right there.” Katie pointed to the spot on the marble tile next to Tuti’s black Mary Janes.
“Tuti must have taken them. That kid has a mischievous streak.” He strode into the lounge room. “She’s not here.”
Katie went back down the hall and peered around a door into a study where a cot was jammed between a desk and a filing cabinet. “Tuti, where are you? I need my shoes.”
No answer.
The screen door slammed. She headed for the back of the town house. The yard was tiny, dominated by a paved patio area and a tall gum tree next to the fence. John stood below the tree, head tilted way back.
Katie hurried to his side and looked up. Way up. Her heart caught in her throat. High among the upper branches flashed a slim brown leg and a swatch of blue-and-white gingham.
* * *
“TUTI, COME DOWN.” John was trained to stay calm in the face of danger, but his training hadn’t prepared him for dealing with his own child in such a situation. He might sound calm—at least he hoped he did—but his heart was racing and only sheer force of will stopped him from bellowing like a frightened bull.
Tuti was about ten feet up the tree. Seeing him, she’d scampered another eight feet higher, her legs and arms stretching impossibly far between smooth-barked limbs. One slip and she would ricochet down like a rag doll.
“Oh, my God. How did she climb so high?” One hand to her throat, Katie shaded her eyes to look up.
“You want a monkey?” he said grimly. “There she is.” He cupped his hands around his mouth and called loudly, “Come down right now!” No answer, just a rustle of branches. A twig dropped, bouncing against the trunk to land on the slate pavers. He tried a different tactic. “What have you done with Katie’s shoes?”
Katie circled the base of the trunk, scanning the tree. “There they are.” She pointed to her black pumps wedged in a fork of two thick lower branches. She turned to John. “I don’t care about my shoes. Just get Tuti down.”
Did she think he wasn’t trying? He couldn’t even see the girl. He moved around the tree to get a better view. And almost wished he hadn’t. Tuti sat on a narrow limb, her legs swinging, casually holding on to a branch with one hand. With her other hand she mimed eating and pointed to Katie.
John turned to Katie, relief flooding him as a simple solution presented itself. “She wants—”
“I get it.” Katie lowered her voice. “But if we give in to blackmail we’ll pay long term.”
“We?” His attention was momentarily diverted from Tuti. Katie seemed to think she had a vested interest in his daughter. Did that mean she was softening toward him? He didn’t think he’d imagined the sexual tension between them in the bathroom, or that moment in the hall.
Confusion stained her cheeks pink. “I mean, you, of course. I’m just her teacher. But I stand to lose authority in the classroom over this.”
Katie edged away from him and called up into the tree. “Tuti, I can’t stay for dinner tonight. Don’t worry about my shoes. I’ll get them later. Bye.”
“What?” John spun around as she started back to the house in her stocking feet. “You want to leave her up in that tree?”
“Please, trust me on this. I know what I’m doing.”
“I get what you’re saying about blackmail but how can I let her get away with taking your shoes? It’s bad behavior.” He glanced up to check on the dangling brown legs through the leaves. “This is no time to experiment with child-rearing theory.”
“I’m worried about her, too,” Katie said. “It’s called reverse psychology. Believe me, I know what I’m doing. I deal with kids all day, every day.”
Maybe she had experience on her side, backed up by rational thinking and the wisdom of experts. But he felt the danger to his daughter on a primal level. All his instincts were screaming at him to act. He wanted her down safely and he’d worry about psychology later. Katie couldn’t even do a simple thing like agree to stay for dinner. No, she had to turn everything into a matter of principle.
“No,” he said firmly. “No way. She’s not allowed to risk her silly little neck.” The way Katie had when she’d refused a mastectomy. She’d defied not just the best medical advice but risked their future together. “Nor is she allowed to try to dictate what goes on around here.” Balancing on one foot, he pulled off first one sock, then the other.
Katie stopped walking. “What are you doing?”
“She’s not the only one who can climb trees.”
“Wait!” She held out a hand. “Stop and think. Jeez, you and she are more alike than you realize—mischievous, impulsive and foolhardy.”
“You’re comparing me to a six-year-old?” He reached for a lower limb.
Katie put a hand on his arm. “She’s a lot smaller than you. She can climb onto smaller branches. If you scare her higher into the tree the danger if she falls is that much greater.”
