‘Sam!’ Jade squeals.
‘I wanted to check with all of you,’ Izzy says, matter-of-factly. She’s serious. She wouldn’t jump into the fire unless she knew for sure that we said she would be okay. Our over-cautious Izzy.
‘Well, he’s alright,’ Sam says, adding, ‘Better than Abbie’s last boyfriend, anyway.’
‘You and Justin aren’t together anymore?’ Izzy asks, looking a little shocked.
‘No, I don’t think we were really meant to be. You know, I really don’t like football and there was no chemistry…’
‘How could there be, he was a meathead,’ Sam laughs. He thinks he’s so funny.
‘And I have met somebody…’
‘Really… do tell!’ Jade is sitting up on her knees, fixing her ponytail.
‘I met him at Pandora’s Pub…’
‘How romantic!’ Jade bursts out.
‘Nowhere that you’ll be going in a hurry, little girl!’ Sam pulls her hair again and she knocks his hand away.
‘I went to Pandora’s with Hannah and Sarah a couple of weeks ago and well… something happened…’
‘That’s how it was for Patrick and I… only at church,’ Izzy sighs.
‘Yes, well, I think Mum and Dad will approve of a church boy before they’ll approve of the lead singer in a rock band…’ I admit, a little jealous of her.
Jade giggles. ‘A singer? Wow, like a real bad-boy!’
‘He’s not a bad-boy. He’s very much a gentleman. And well spoken, old-fashioned, over-protective and really handsome…’ I start to drift off to be with Valentine.
‘So, he sounds very nice,’ Izzy points out. ‘Mum and Dad will approve, don’t worry.’
‘He’s married with a son,’ I add, softly. It sounds worse when I say it aloud.
‘Oh hell, Abbie… married!’ Sam is sitting up and glaring at me. ‘How old is he?’ he adds, with narrowed eyes. Now he sounds like Dad.
‘He’s thirty next February,’ I say, even more softly.
‘Geez! That’s old… I’m glad it’s you breaking the news to Mum and Dad—’
‘What news?’ Dad walks around the corner carrying a plate of watermelon.
‘Abbie has some news… but you and Mum will want to sit down first, before she tells you.’
Dad eyes me suspiciously.
‘Here you go kids,’ Mum says, as she walks over and places a jug of lemonade and glasses on the stone garden table.
We all stand up and take a place at the table. Sam is already gulping down a piece of watermelon and Izzy is eyeing me nervously.
‘I’ve met somebody and I think I’m in love with him,’ I blurt out. Nothing like grabbing the bull by the horns.
‘Oh, well, that’s wonderful news!’ Mum says, beaming at me.
‘Mum, he’s married with a son,’ I cut her happiness short.
She gasps, mid-way through her sip of lemonade. ‘Married?’
‘Separated and due to have the divorce finalised in a few weeks. But, yes, he’s married.’ I can’t look at anyone. I watch a trail of ants marching in a row across a garden rock nearby. They have such simple lives.
‘Where did you meet him?’ Dad asks, taking a bite of his fruit.
‘I went to a pub, with Hannah and Sarah—’
‘I knew they were a bad influence on you!’ Mum snaps.
‘I wanted to go, Mum. I’m nearly twenty-one years old. A woman,’ I feel like I’m pleading for my innocence in a court of law.
‘I know you’re a woman, but there a lot of men out there that like to take advantage of young women like you,’ Mum says, imploring me with her big blue eyes to see reason.
‘He’s really nice Mum. He’s thirty next February and he’s very kind and well mannered. ‘He’s a real gentleman,’ I say firmly.
‘Does he work?’ Dad breaks the tension.
‘Of course he does, he’s a barista,’ I say indignantly.
‘As in coffee?’ Dad questions.
‘Yes, why? It doesn’t matter where he works,’ I raise my voice a little.
‘It does matter that he can provide for you.’
‘I’m not marrying him, I’ve only just met him. And I work, too.’ They’re being so conventional.
‘Okay, well, when can we meet him?’ Mum questions.
‘You mean, judge him,’ I answer, a little too rudely.
‘We just want to check him out,’ Sam says, with mischief in his tone; trying to lighten the mood.
‘I don’t know,’ I sigh. This is one battle I know I can’t win.
‘How about next Sunday? You can invite him for lunch – or would he come to church?’
‘He’s Catholic, Mum, so no. I’ll invite him for lunch.’ I can only imagine their faces when he pulls up to the house on the back of his Ninja Kawasaki.
Chapter 4
Sam delivers me home safely and I’m beyond exhausted. I manage to doze on the couch for a while, but the loud ring of the telephone wakes me.
I clear my throat and rub my eyes before picking up the receiver.
‘Hello?’
‘I miss you.’
I catch my breath. I recognise the voice immediately.
‘Really, haven’t you been busy?’ I joke. This is going way too fast.
‘Yes, I have. But I can’t stop thinking about you,’ he says, seriously.
I let my breath out. ‘Same.’
‘So, what did you get up to today?’
‘I’ve been with my family, celebrating a typical Mother’s Day. We had church, and then Mum cooked a nice lunch. I got home a little while ago. What about you?’
‘My mum passed away last November,’ he says quietly. This announcement makes me a little uncomfortable. He hadn’t mentioned this before.
‘Oh, sorry...’
‘It’s okay... she’s in a good place. I went with my dad to the cemetery, and then I went over to see Tyler,’ he says, sounding a bit happier.
‘Oh, that’s good.’ I don’t know what else to say. I try not to let the green-eyed monster raise its ugly head again.
‘Yeah, it was. Tyler has just enrolled into the local football team, so he was pretty excited about it. His mum says he’ll start training on Tuesday evenings and wants me to take him. So we had a bit to sort out, because I have to get him a helmet and teach him how to ride on the back of my bike. My ex-wife thinks it’s irresponsible of me to not drive a car.’ He pauses, takes a deep breath, then adds, ‘Anyway, enough of my day, how about you, did your mum have a good day?’ His voice lightens.
‘Yeah, things have been a bit touchy in our relationship over the last couple of years, so it was nice to spend the day with her.’
‘You should always love your mum, no matter what.’
‘I do, always, we just had a few issues,’ I reply.
‘That’s good, mums’ are always right.’
‘That’s what my mum always says.’ I let out a little laugh, and he joins in.
‘So, when will I see you again?’ he says.
I wasn’t expecting this. ‘Oh, um, well, I’m at work tomorrow—’
‘What time do you finish?’ he interrupts.
‘At seven.’
‘Okay, I’ll wait near the taxi stand... we’ll go out,’ he insists.
I agree, of course.
∞~∞~∞~∞
I sleep well that night and float through the following day – not even a room full of grumpy, sick people can wipe the smile from my face.
When I walk down the mall to the taxi stand, I can see Valentine leaning against his bike, with two helmets. My breath catches for two reasons. One, I have never been on the back of a motorbike. Two, he looks like one of those Oakley models.
I get a quick kiss on the cheek and a pink helmet placed over my head. ‘I bought you pink, to match your cheeks. Nice dress,’ he says with a huge grin, fastening the helmet straps and checking that it won’t slip. ‘You look like a nurse,’ he adds, starting up the bike.
; I glance down at myself and think I should’ve brought something to change into. These white nurse dresses we wear as uniforms are really ugly, and so inappropriate for riding on the back of a bike. I clutch my handbag closer to my chest and try to look like a lady as I swing my leg over the bike and snuggle up to Valentine.
‘Thanks, I think.’ I release a nervous laugh. What am I doing? Going out with a man that I hardly know, to God knows where, on a bike and wearing a dress! Oh, if only my mum knew, I’d be in so much trouble.
Valentine revs up the engine and shouts back at me to hold on. I pull the visor down on the helmet and wrap my arms tightly around him. Breathe Abbie!
Leaning my head on the back of his neck and tightening my hold around his waist, I can feel the vibration of the engine roar to life. I settle into the ride. He takes the corners with caution and doesn’t swerve through the traffic, as I’ve seen other motorbikes do. We ride west, heading toward the setting sun. It’s disappearing behind the rooftops in a blaze of glorious pink. I finally understand why people ride bikes. It’s exhilarating. A feeling of freedom you just don’t get when you sit in a car.
As we pull into the car park at Scarborough beach, I lift my visor and take a deep breath of the salty air. Our first date and it’s already perfect. Dismounting the bike as gracefully as possible, I swing my handbag over my shoulder, carry my shoes in one hand, and hold Valentine’s with the other, as we follow the path through the sand dunes out onto the beach. It’s simply gorgeous. We sit on the sand and stare out at the endless horizon. The sun setting on the water is breathtaking. I love it here; the smell of salt, the rhythm of the waves, the sound of the seagulls fighting over scraps of food and the fresh breeze.
It’s peaceful, except for the squabbling between my heart and my intuition – they still don’t agree.
It’s true, I hardly know this beautiful man. But I can’t stop thinking of him. His dominant persona, his dark brooding eyes, his old-fashioned manners.
I know he’s watching me. I can’t look at him. I focus on the water lapping at the sand and can’t help wondering what I’m expecting from a man who has lived far more than I have. We have nothing in common.
‘Are you worried about something?’ I hear him ask and my attention is drawn back to the here and now.
‘No,’ I lie.
‘You don’t need to worry. I won’t hurt you or do anything you don’t want to do, okay?’ he says as he lifts his hand to my chin and turns my face to his.
He kisses my forehead tenderly, and then stops to take a deep breath, ‘Oh God, Abbie! I wasn’t expecting this.’
‘Expecting what?’ My heart thumps in my chest. I suddenly feel nervous.
‘I’ve never felt like this. I’m in love with you,’ he says, pulling back and looking out towards the waves.
My heart is doing cartwheels on the sand. I’m slightly panicked.
He clears his throat and I can see from the corner of my eye that he’s not looking at me as he says, ‘I saw you watching me from the crowd and I knew we were in love. When I saw you smile at me, I thought you smiled because you knew it, too.’
In love? Of course I felt it. And he felt it too. I have no idea what to say.
He turns to me again and I’m fidgeting with my fingernails.
‘Don’t pick at your beautiful nails,’ he says, taking hold of my hand. He pulls me closer, puts his arm around me and I lay my head on his shoulder. ‘Do you believe in destiny?’
This takes me by surprise. Is he playing with me? Surely, guys like him don’t believe in all that.
‘Destiny? You mean the stars choosing our path and souls re-uniting? Not sure, why?’ I try to avoid sounding perplexed. But when I look up at him, I notice he’s frowning.
‘I mean, do you believe in souls moving from one life to the next and re-uniting? You know, like being meant for each other?’
I feel my tummy flutter. Is this guy for real? Of course, I believe in souls being tied to each other and our paths being laid out for us in each lifetime – I’m a crazy bookworm. I live and breathe romance and fairytales.
‘I guess so,’ I say, smiling, but I don’t look at him. I watch the waves caressing the shore.
‘I felt something weird when I saw you. It sounds ridiculous, I know. I thought of nothing else from the minute we met and it scares me, to be honest.’ He moves his arm from me and rests his head in his hands. I don’t know what to say. What is there to say? I felt the same. And it’s crazy.
‘Maybe it was just a physical attraction?’ I finally offer. This makes sense.
‘Or maybe the stars aligned and our souls found each other?’ he whispers, still not looking at me. He sounds so serious.
‘Maybe you say that to all the girls?’
From the corner of my eye, I see him push his hands through his hair, before he sighs and says, ‘There haven’t been as many girls as you might think, you know.’
‘And how many is that?’ Oh geez, why am I asking him this?
‘Abbie, there have been very few and I can honestly say, apart from Tyler’s mum, I don’t really remember much about any of them.’
I scoff. Immature, I know, but really? He doesn’t remember much about them? Typical male.
‘I mean it, and I don’t mean to sound rude. I just mean that when I woke up on those occasions, I woke up alone, and I can only assume that I’d passed out some time before or after the deed, which I’m glad for, because it saved things from being uncomfortable… ah… look, I know I sound like a real dick – sorry. I guess when you live my lifestyle, drinking way too much and partying far too hard, it’s inevitable. The few women I’ve hooked up with were… um, filling a hunger. Like getting a quick fix – pizza or a burger. I was always way too intoxicated to care about anything else, you know?’
Oh, he’s actually asking me? ‘Um, no, not really, I can’t say I do.’ And I don’t.
‘I’ve cleaned up my act, though. And now, there’s you. And I’m thinking you’re no pizza or any type of quick fix – and I don’t want you to be. I want to get to know you. But, we seem so different. I don’t even read, or have much to offer you,’ he adds.
‘You love music. That’s something we have in common,’ I say simply, eager to steer the conversation away from his sex life.
‘Yes, I do. And now I think I love you, even more,’ he says, turning his smouldering eyes to meet mine. ‘Kiss me.’ He places his arm around me again. I move closer and study his handsome face. I hadn’t realised before, but he’s shaved. My pulse is racing. ‘Kiss me and let’s see where this takes us.’
I smile. I’m shy. I’ve never been spoken to like this. So inexperienced, but yearning for him. I brush my lips on his, testing his offer. Then I climb onto his lap and hold his face in my hands. I want to stay in this moment forever.
His lips are soft and warm. His tongue searches for mine and I feel like I’m floating. We go to a place I’ve always been afraid of. Deep and distant. Now, I don’t feel frightened; I’m with Valentine, safe and sound.
He doesn’t push things any further; I’m relieved and a little disappointed. The beach becomes cold and too dark to see anything, so it’s time to go. The ride home is more comfortable and he returns me home in one piece, heart intact – but only just. I think I’ve finally found my moon, although I know deep down I’ve fallen way too fast.
He walks me to the door and the “goodnight” kiss is more intense this time. When it eventually softens, he groans and pulls me into a firm embrace. ‘Tomorrow night, you meet my dad,’ he says, as he leaves me standing in my doorway. It’s not a question, so I guess it’s time.
He’s already walking across the driveway and putting on his helmet when I gather my sanity and process what he’s just said. ‘Okay,’ I gasp, still reeling from the intensity of him.
When he turns back to blow me a kiss, my stomach flips again.
‘Don’t worry, he’ll love you!’ he shouts, before pulling down his visor and revving his bike.
He rides off into the night and I wonder how on earth I’ll get any sleep tonight.
∞~∞~∞~∞
Meeting Valentine’s father really tests my ability to control my anxiety issues. I chew most of my nails off and try on everything in my wardrobe. I eventually decide on a jeans and a blouse; with my rose-pink cardigan. Valentine waits patiently in the lounge and when I finally emerge from my room, he’s grinning and I wonder if he’s as nervous as I am.
‘Stop biting your nails!’ he warns, as he grabs my hands and my handbag. ‘Come on, it’s getting close to the old man’s bedtime,’ he says, still grinning.
He kisses my forehead and we leave Hannah to enjoy her quiet night in.
‘What if he thinks I’m too young for you? Or not good enough?’ I say to Valentine, as he leads me up to the door of an old brick house surrounded by rose bushes. It’s dark by the time we arrive, but the front light spreads a muted yellow glow over the pretty cottage garden.
‘He’ll love you, believe me!’ Valentine presses a kiss to my mouth and wraps an arm around my shoulder. With the other hand, he pushes a key into the door lock and opens the door.
The aroma of Mediterranean spices and vanilla greet us, before a tall man with a beaming smile and bright eyes comes rushing from another room. His features are much lighter than Valentine’s, with hair that looks as though it might once have been ginger; now thinning on top and streaked with silver. I must have looked a little taken back, because he stops and lets his hands fall for a moment, before gathering himself again and embracing us both in turn.
‘Hello, my son!’ he says quite loudly. ‘Hello, Abigail, it’s a pleasure to meet you!’ he adds. He has a thick Irish accent and I realise that Valentine must get his dark hair and eyes from his mother. It’s something we haven’t really spoken about yet, and I suddenly realise that there’s a lot I don’t know about Valentine and his past.
I feel my nervousness intensify a little. I glance at Valentine briefly before saying, ‘Hello, Mr. Hewitt.’
‘No, Abigail, Mr. Hewitt was my dad, call me Gabe,’ he says, leading us both into the kitchen and directing us to a small wooden table with four chairs.
Infinite Completion (The Infinity Series Book 1) Page 4
