Just Say (Hell) No (Escape to New Zealand Book 11)

by Rosalind James

  Jakinda said, “Let’s go, then. Climb in, Ella.”

  Olivia said, “I guess we’d better get used to letting Ella ride in front. Come on, Jakinda. It’s just like my college days. It’s practically the same car.”

  “You’re American,” Nyree said.

  Olivia laughed. “Not anymore, but the accent never dies, even after thirty-five years. It either drives Ander crazy, or he thinks it’s cute. I’ve never been able to tell. Probably both. But if we’re going to watch Marko play, we need to get this show on the road.” She shoved the seat forward, folded her nearly six feet into the back, and said, “Yep. College for sure. I’d tell you when I was last in the back seat of one of these, but I just met you.”

  Jakinda climbed in beside her after a moment’s hesitation, and Ella got into the front. Nyree said as she pulled out—carefully, because she didn’t need to hear about it later—“Here’s the plan. We don’t really have time to go home first, so we’ll battle the traffic into Mount Eden and grab a carpark while we can, spend some extra time in the pub, then walk over to Eden Park. Sound good?”

  “Does to me,” Olivia said. “Lead on.”

  An hour later, Nyree wasn’t sure if she wanted to slap Jakinda, or just stab herself in the eyeball to make the hurting stop. Every time anyone started a new subject, Ella’s mum shifted the conversation back to the pregnancy, Ella’s education, her future, her mental health, or her favorite: her own stress. Now, she was saying, “I don’t think I slept more than an hour last night for worrying. Did you, Livvie? I’m shattered today. Half of me just wants to climb into bed right now. I hope Marko finally has his place furnished.”

  “Not so much,” Nyree said. She was nursing a second beer out of sheer self-preservation. It was lucky that she wouldn’t need to drive again for nearly four hours. Olivia was on her second as well, probably for the same reason. “He’s putting you two into his room, as long as you don’t mind sharing. It’s the biggest bed, and he’s even changed the sheets for you. A man in a million. I’m bunking in with Ella, and Marko’s in my room. And there you are.”

  Which was more than a little awkward, not least because Marko’s feet would hang over the edge of her mattress, not to mention that little matter of smelling his scent and feeling all his red in her space, and what that might do to her own peace of mind, but she wasn’t going to be a princess about it. After all, she wasn’t the one who’d be sleeping on the floor after playing a Super Rugby match.

  “Oh,” Jakinda said. “But surely Ella needs her mum tonight.”

  “Nah, Mum,” Ella said. “You snore, and you have cold feet. Nyree’s warm as a hot water bottle. She slept with me last night and didn’t say anything, which was cool. Aunt Livvie, Marko says I should ask you to do my card of the day. He says we need all the enlightenment we can get. And when he says that, he means I do, because Marko never needs anything. And then do Nyree, please. She’s an artist, did you know? I’ll show you tomorrow. I’ll bet her reading’s awesome.” She told Nyree, “It’s not all woo-woo like you think. It’s really just Aunt Livvie being wise and pretending it’s coming from the cards.”

  Olivia said, “That’s one way to look at it, anyway.” Then she pulled an oversized pack of cards out of her tote, tipped them out of the box, shuffled them, and fanned them out face-down. “It works best if you pick your own,” she explained to Nyree. “I do Marko’s for him, of course, or it wouldn’t happen. And then I don’t ask whether he reads my encouraging words. Always best.”

  Ella’s hand hovered over the enormous fan of cards as if her choice mattered, and then she chose the extreme right-hand one and turned it over fast.

  Everybody stared. An upside-down man hanging by one foot from a tree. In case anybody was in any doubt, the caption was there. The Hanged Man.

  “Ah,” Olivia said with satisfaction.

  “I’m dead,” Ella said. “Wonderful.”

  Olivia laughed. “Don’t be silly. No. You’re in a period of suspension, that’s all. You’re waiting to let the truth come to you rather than rushing to judgment or being swayed by outside forces. Some answers don’t come from your head. They’re only in your heart. Look at his smile. He knows he’s there for a reason. He’s hanging out, trusting himself to find the right way, just like you are.”

  “If that means I don’t know what to do,” Ella said, “then that’s it.”

  Olivia beamed. “Exactly. And look at him. He’s not a victim. He’s turning his situation around and considering it from the other side.”

  “What’s the other side?” Ella asked.

  “That’s what you’ll discover,” Olivia said. “It’s what you’ll dream tonight, or the path you’ll see opening up before you in the morning. That’s the beauty of life, isn’t it? The scary part, too, of course. The gift of unanswered prayers, and the life you make instead. The wonder of taking the wrong fork and finding that hidden valley.”

  “Easy for you to say,” Jakinda said. “When everything works out for you. And that’s a song, the unanswered prayers.”

  “Mm,” Olivia said, seeming not the least bit daunted. “Well, it may be a song, and it may not even be the truth, but it’s sure a happier place to live.”

  When she smiled, the skin at the corners of her eyes creased, and the lines around her mouth showed that she smiled more than she frowned. Nyree said impulsively, “My Nan says, ‘Remember that the way you look at life will be etched into your soul as you grow old the same way it’s etched into your face, so take care how you look at it.’ Same thing, or trying to keep me from getting wrinkles. I’ve never figured out which.”

  Olivia said, “That’s a good one.” She rummaged in her tote again and pulled out a little notebook with a pen clipped to it. “I’m writing it down. Every little bit helps. Gratitude is an attitude and all that.”

  Nyree had a perfectly good mother already. That didn’t stop her from wanting Marko’s. Especially when Olivia said, “Let’s do you, Nyree.” After which she studied her, her head a little on one side, her clear blue eyes assessing, and said, “You’re somebody special, aren’t you?”

  Maybe it was the second beer. Maybe it was the recklessness of knowing she was going to watch Marko play, and that she was going to let herself enjoy it. Or maybe it was the pleasure of somebody you admired looking into your eyes and telling you that you were special. Whatever it was, ribbons of light were wrapping Nyree up and holding her close, and those ribbons glowed gold. Her throat was closing, but in a good way. She said, “I don’t know. I’m the only one of me, anyway.”

  “Yes,” Olivia said. “You are.” She took Ella’s card back and shuffled the deck twice, then twice more. Her fingers were long and brown, adorned only by a single silver band with an inlay of paua shell on her wedding finger. She fanned out the cards again, smiled at Nyree, and said, “Choose.”

  “I’m oddly nervous,” Nyree said.

  Ella said, “I know. Even though she always makes it sound good.”

  Nyree closed her eyes, set her hand on a card, then pulled it toward her and turned it over. A king on a throne, looking into the distance, holding a stick in his hand.

  “I’m a king,” Nyree said. “That’s good, I guess. Better than being a serf.”

  “The King of Wands,” Olivia said. “It’s a card of power, reminding you to live your life with intention. You’re facing doubt and obstacles now, maybe in more than one part of your life, but they’re just bumps in your road, put there to make you stronger. Remember that the common denominator in every situation is you. Your choices. Your goals. Your path.”

  “Pressure much?” Ella said. “I’m glad I didn’t get that one. Like I need that.”

  Olivia said, “And now that I’ve given you that to chew on, I’m going to visit the ladies’, and then I think we’d better be heading to the park. Seeing as I’ve got a son to watch, and I think he’s pretty special himself.”

  Nyree may have had a few things to think about on the walk to Eden Par
k. Olivia walked beside her, but she didn’t talk, to Nyree’s relief. They found the VIP door, and Nyree thought, Just like going to watch the Highlanders, but couldn’t convince her body that it was true. There was a tingle along her arms and a buzzing in her head as they walked up stairs and around corners, flight after flight, along with the rest of the cheerful crowd, that told her this was different.

  Finally, they found their door. One more flight of stairs, and then finding their row, and players below them warming up on the field under the bright lights.

  No different. Except it was.

  They were nearly there when Ella stopped so abruptly ahead of her that Nyree bumped into her. “Oh, my God,” she said. “That’s Jocelyn Pae Ata. It has to be. Isn’t it? With Kate, the one we met. Koti’s partner.”

  “Yeh,” Nyree said. “Looks like her to me. Makes sense. She’s married to Hugh Latimer, the skipper.”

  “I knew that,” Ella said. “But it’s different seeing her in person. Courtney Place is my favorite show ever, and she was my favorite on it until they blew her up and killed her. I can’t believe I’m actually seeing her. She’s even more beautiful than on TV.”

  “Come on, love,” Jakinda said. “I need to sit down.”

  They filed into their seats in the row just ahead of Kate and Jocelyn, who were sitting with a fair number of other pretty women who had “rugby WAG” written all over them, and a few kids as well.

  Nyree told herself, You can do this. You’re not seventeen anymore. Jump in and do it. So when she reached her seat, she turned and focused on Kate. Brunette, short, and less than glamorous. Exactly like her. “Hi,” she said. “Nyree Morgan.”

  “I remember,” Kate said, a smile lighting up her face. “Hi. How are you?” She told Jocelyn, “Nyree’s the photographer who was taking those pictures of Koti when I nearly drowned Maia. The one who found us our dog, too. Also known as the best dog in the world, since she’s the one who kept Maia from drowning. Nyree’s living with Marko now.”

  “Well, with Ella,” Nyree said, doing her best to keep her cool. “Marko’s cousin.”

  “Right,” Kate said. “Hi, Ella. Nice to see you. This is Josie Pae Ata. Oh, and Jenna Douglas. We still let her sit with us even though Finn’s a coach now.”

  Nyree introduced Marko’s mum and aunt. It was a bit surreal, like she actually was this kind of insider. Of course, she’d technically been that for years, but she’d never felt like it. Not even close. She’d always felt, in the rugby world, like she was standing on the other side of the windows, looking in at the ballroom where the couples were waltzing and the party was happening. Like a stepchild, you could say.

  Remember that the common denominator in any situation is you.

  They were just people. Yes, Jocelyn Pae Ata had been named New Zealand’s Most Beautiful Woman last year, and was one of the country’s biggest TV stars. Also an international model. She was also married to the captain of the Blues, who happened to be a star All Black, but…

  All right. Maybe that one didn’t work so well. Still, Kate seemed normal. She’d focus on her. “You didn’t drown Maia. She ran off before you could catch her, which is something that could happen to anybody, and the dog and Koti were both right there.”

  “Easy for you to say,” Kate said. “Koti said it took ten years off his life, watching her go under like that. She’s a daddy’s girl. Has him wrapped around her finger, too. Geez. Kids. One way or another, they’ll kill you.”

  Jenna, a redhead who, like Kate, also looked relatively normal, glanced at Josie, who was watching the players below and looking distant. Bored, probably. Jenna said, “Really? You found Kate and Koti their dog? My son Harry is dying for a dog. We’ve been waiting until the babies are a little older, but I don’t think I can hold him off much longer.”

  A girl of eleven or twelve, sitting next to her, said, “He’s totally obnoxious about it, you mean. We’ve been making lists, but he keeps changing his mind.”

  “My daughter Sophie,” Jenna said. “Harry’s not obnoxious. He’s just persistent. But he does have pictures pinned all over his room. Are you involved in the… the dog world, or whatever, Nyree?”

  “Not exactly,” Nyree said. “I don’t know much about show dogs or whatever you’re thinking. I do some volunteer photography for the SPCA, that’s all, and I know dogs and cats a bit. That’s what Marko and Koti were posing for.”

  “That’s how she met Marko,” Kate said. “Which, according to Koti, was a pretty fireworks-worthy occasion.”

  Jenna said, “But that’s perfect! Harry says our dog can’t be from a breeder. It has to be from a shelter. That’s one reason I’ve been hesitating. I’d like to rescue a dog, of course, but I’ve never had one and don’t know much about training them, and like I said—babies. Finn’s had dogs—”

  “And is Command Central,” Kate said, “so what are you worried about? If Finn can’t train a dog, I’ll be mightily surprised. Koti says he just about kills them in the gym. He says he’s thinking of joining the army just to have somebody go easy on him, because between Finn and me, not to mention Maia…”

  “Except that I’m the one at home,” Jenna said, “so you know that’s going to be me. And I do have four kids. It’d be better to lower the challenge level.”

  “You and Harry,” Sophie said. “He’s going to think he knows exactly what to do. He’s going to be so bossy about it.” She sighed and looked martyred. Ah, sisters.

  Nyree said, “I can certainly keep an eye out for a good candidate, if you like. An older dog, maybe? Gentle, and with some manners already? Bigger could actually be better for you. Temperament is more important than size, especially with babies.”

  “Perfect.” Jenna pulled out her phone. “Give me your number, and I’ll text you mine. I’d appreciate it.”

  Josie stood up and said, “Drinks. Who’d like a beer, or a fizz? We’ve got time. Nyree?”

  “Oh,” she said. “No, thanks. I’m driving.”

  “I’ll take another beer,” Olivia said. “I need to get mellow to watch Marko. Too nervous otherwise.”

  Josie took orders, but when she came to Ella, the girl said, “Not for me, thanks. I’m pregnant. If I drink anything, I’ll miss the whole match for running to the toilets.” She added hurriedly, “But it would be awesome to go with you to help carry them. I loved you in Courtney Place, and I can’t wait for your new show. Are you still going to be, like, evil?”

  Josie smiled, which was, of course, pure perfection, and said, “The show’s still in development. But I’m very excited myself. I hope you’ll watch. Congratulations on your pregnancy. And thanks, but I’ve got it.” She turned to Kate, said, “Excuse me,” made her graceful way across the row like a royal working a reception line, and was gone.

  “Huh,” Ella said. “I guess that happens to her all the time. I probably shouldn’t have said that about the show.”

  “It does happen,” Jenna said with a smile. “But you didn’t say anything wrong. You’re Marko’s cousin? He’s from the South Island, Finn says. Which he approves of, of course. He’d love it if he could poach all the southern boys. I think he secretly believes farm boys are tougher. Where in the South Island, exactly?”

  Ella answered, the conversation resumed, and the moment passed. So. Jocelyn Pae Ata was beautiful, and that seemed to be where it stopped. But then, TV stars didn’t have the “humble Kiwi” bit drummed into them the way rugby players did. Nobody was handing them a broom at the end of the shoot and telling them it was their turn to sweep the changing room floor. Different game, different rules. And she was here to watch this one.

  Afterwards, she could only remember a few things about that match. The music blaring over the loudspeakers. The sight of Marko, his hands on his hips, staring straight ahead and doing hamstring stretches as if he were alone on the field, getting into the zone. The teams jogging off the field and back into the tunnel after their warmup. The gouts of fire spouting from torches as the announcer�
��s voice swelled and the team returned, and how she felt the warmth all the way from the stands.

  Other than that, though? What she remembered was how different it felt from every other rugby game she’d been to. What she remembered was Marko.

  Running out onto the pitch behind Hugh, looking like he had the day before, when he’d concentrated all his power on defending Ella. Looking larger than life. She couldn’t see his expression, but she could imagine it. And she could see the intention in every hard muscle and the focus in his big body as he stood, his torso canted forward, his eyes on the opposition No. 10, and waited for the kickoff. She could see the ferocity of his tackles, the power in his legs when he took the ball in a quick recycle and ground out a few more hard-won meters over the bodies of his opposition. The sheer strength in his upper body, too, that meant it took three tacklers to bring him down, and the unselfishness with which he passed the ball to the next man instead of going for the tryline himself.

  Which was part and parcel of being an elite rugby player. The best ones were team men first, foremost, and always. And yet… and yet. When Marko embraced the teammate who’d just dotted down across the chalk and taken the glory? She’d swear that he felt as much pleasure as if he’d been the one doing it.

  Maybe it was wrong to respond so much to his physical self. If it was, she was wrong. All she knew was that seeing his power, watching him do the thing he was best at, feeling him embrace his driving force like he was inside her, made the hair rise on her scalp and a dark tingle start up low in her belly.

  He wasn’t the man who’d held his cousin’s hand, or the one who talked to her in the dark. Except that he was, because he was all of that together. It was exactly like that first day at his house, when she’d sat on the bed beside him, felt the vibration in him, and responded to it like he was a tuning fork and he resonated exactly at her frequency.

  He stole her breath. He rolled her like a wave. He shook her to the core. And he didn’t even know it.