Heart in the Field

by Dagg, Jillian

  She grinned. “It’s not better than that, but it’s close. Angela’s agreed to do the story. I have to meet her on Wednesday with Max.”

  He was pleased for her. She’d been disappointed about this one. It was a story dear to her heart. “That’s great. Really great. What do you think she’s going to go for?”

  She tugged off her leather gloves and stuffed them into her jacket pockets. “Well, I haven’t actually talked to her yet. I get the feeling this is sans Lawson. I don’t think he’ll know about it.” She flipped her braid from her shoulder and perched on the arm of one of his chairs. “As I drove down here, I decided that I want to get right into the gritty emotional reasons for Angela being with this man. I don’t care about what he did or why. I want Angela’s story.”

  “I see that, but we’ll have to bring in some of Lawson’s story.”

  “Yes. I know, but I’m not sure how yet. I’d like him to unfold with Angela’s story.”

  “That could be the right approach.” Nick rose to his feet. “What can I get you to drink?”

  “Do you have any wine?”

  “White on tap, just for you.”

  “Thanks.”

  She removed her jacket to reveal a dark blue ribbed sweater that hugged her breasts and left an inch of flesh between the belt of her jeans. She followed him into the kitchen, saying, “I went to get the Jeep overhauled today, and when I picked it up I just kept driving here. I wasn’t sure where you were.”

  He removed a bottle of wine from the fridge and took two glasses down from the cupboard. “I was here and there. My parents have agreed to move, so I’m putting their property up for sale.”

  She leaned against the counter near him. “That’s wonderful. We’ve got two things to celebrate.”

  He poured the wine and handed her a glass. They clinked glasses. “Cheers.”

  “Cheers.”

  He didn’t know what it was, but he felt she wasn’t quite so close to him as usual. And it wasn’t the same reaction he’d felt when he first met her, when he’d sensed her withdrawal. There was no withdrawal. She was here, she was bright and she smiled a lot. She was excited that Angela had agreed to do her show. But that wasn’t all. She was sure of herself in a way he hadn’t seen her quite so sure of herself before. She seemed to have power inside herself.

  He knew it when she placed her arm around his shoulders and kissed his mouth. She tasted of cold wine. “I want to go to bed with you, Nick,” she whispered.

  “Let’s drink our wine first.”

  She put her head to one side. “What now?”

  “Nothing now.” She irritated him like this. “I just want to drink our wine. I didn’t expect you tonight.”

  “Who did you expect?”

  “Nobody.” What was wrong with them? Why did he feel her difference made it difficult to relate to her? Did he like being in control so much? Didn’t he like it when she tried to show some initiative?

  She dropped her arm from him and walked back to the living room. He followed. She was sexy and magnetic in her tight jeans and sweater. But he’d annoyed her. Her features were taut with controlled feeling. Sipping her wine, she strolled around his room for a while. She stopped by his desk and began leafing through his papers by his computer. She pushed a few sheets of paper aside and picked up the book that had been underneath.

  She stared at the photograph on the front. She showed the cover to Nick. “That’s what he used to look like when he came home. He’d look nice when he walked through the door. But a few days later, after he’d been into the whiskey, he’d get bleary-eyed and his hair would be a mess. He had a pair of jeans with ripped hems and an old T-shirt that he used to flop about in. Sometimes he picked me up from school when he was home. His eyes would glitter. Stoned, you might call it. I didn’t know then quite what he was. But I knew as I grew older.”

  Nick sipped his wine and perched on the arm of a chair. A thin wire might have been stretched between them.

  She looked at him. “Did you know he was a druggie?”

  “It’s in his book.”

  “Well, he was what you could call an honest journalist. He told the truth.”

  “If you want to find out, read his book? I think it’s about time you did. Do you good.”

  She kept the book in one hand, her wine in the other. “You keep telling me that. The only thing that does me good and gets rid of my frustration is having sex with you. That’s what it’s come down to. I’m seeing a man who is like my father, and it’s good for me, but it’s going to end for me as well. Like he ended.” She flung the book on his desk and it skidded to a stop beside his empty coffee cup from the afternoon.

  His heart felt heavy for her because he did love her. He just didn’t really know what to do with that love. He didn’t want to tell her how he felt, only to discover she didn’t return his love. For all he knew, she might be on a sexual roll. The same one he was supposed to be on. Luckily, he was well equipped to play act until the end. After that, well, he’d just have to figure out what to do when the time came for them to part.

  He shrugged his shoulders to release a lot of tension. “I’m not planning on getting killed.”

  She looked him in the eye and then stared at his scar. “How do you know that the next bullet might not be lower?”

  “That’s a risk I take. We wear bullet proof vests.” He hated himself for sounding so damn cavalier about safety.

  She finished her wine in a couple of gulps, and put down the glass. “I was going to stay tonight but I guess I’m not now.”

  “What changed your mind?”

  “You.”

  “You’re not driving home after that wine.”’

  “I’m okay.”

  She wasn’t. He knew one way to stop her leaving. He placed his own untouched glass on a table. She was standing in front of him, breathing hard. He took hold of her hands and found them cold. He rubbed her fingers between his hands to warm her.

  “Kiss me.”

  He wrapped his arms around her and met her mouth with his own. She was desperate for him. Her tongue was inside his mouth before he had a chance to respond. He felt his own desperation rise to meet hers and he began to strip off her clothes. They moved to the floor, and before he went into her he saw her eyes and he couldn’t tell what she was thinking.

  •

  Wearing Nick’s burgundy terry robe, Serena put on coffee in his kitchen the next morning. She leaned against the counter hearing the liquid drip, thinking that her romance with Nick was getting very much like a kitchen sink drama. It was feeling sleazy. It was only sex. No. She crossed her arms across her breasts. It wasn’t all sex. Not on her side. She loved him. But she couldn’t tell him she loved him. All she could do was show him by giving him her body. A body that couldn’t stop wanting him. She’d become what she’d never wanted to become, a woman dependent on a man for her thrills.

  She walked into the living room where some weak sun was streaming through the window. She picked up her father’s book and turned it in her hands. Should she read it? Would it do her good? She opened the cover and saw the inscription. Who is Cara? Some other woman who’d once stood in Nick’s apartment wondering where to go next with a man who would never love you, who would one day leave you? A man you craved and couldn’t get enough of? Strange that one of his lovers had given him her father’s book as a birthday gift.

  She closed the book but she didn’t drop it. She kept it with her. Read it, get rid of him for good, her brain told her. Do it. And even when Nick does leave you, at least you won’t have that burden anymore.

  Nick came into the living room. All he wore was a pair of black briefs, and she liked him half-naked. She held up the book. “I will read it.”

  He stroked the air with his finger. “One down.”

  “How many to go though?”

  He held the doorpost with his hand. “What happened to you? You were so bright last night?”

  She wrinkled her nose. “Too bri
ght. I came down off that high into a pit.”

  “Well, you’ll have to get your act together. We have a lot of work ahead of us.”

  “I know that.”

  “It’ll be mostly you doing it as well.” He grinned. “Come on, Serena. Life isn’t that bad. You’ve got the program you dreamed of at your fingertips, you have a co-host who gives you great loving, and you’re going to exorcize your father’s memory once and for all.”

  She lifted the book. “I’ll throw this at you.”

  “No. Keep it.”

  “Who’s Cara?”

  “She lives in Mexico and she’s married.”

  “Cara Winsome?”

  He nodded. “Yeah.”

  “She’s old enough to be your mother.”

  “It was mainly a friendship.”

  “Mainly a friendship? Is that what you’ll call our relationship one day? Oh, I mainly had a friendship with Serena Brown. Or is it that I’m my father’s daughter and that turns you on?”

  He clapped his hand to his forehead. “Get dressed, and we’ll have some coffee and get out of here before you can invent more reasons for chucking me over.”

  “I’d love to chuck you over.” But she smiled a little this time. “I tried once, didn’t I?”

  “I’m not listening.” He returned to the bedroom.

  Serena figured she might as well go and get dressed as well. She had a heavy day ahead of her, preparing her questions for Angela. Now she began to worry if her friend would cooperate enough to make the show a success.

  Nick insisted on accompanying her to meet Angela, but Serena argued him out of using a Steel News van or a Steel limousine. It had been difficult enough getting Angela to respond to her request for an interview, she didn’t want to scare her away now. She even dressed down, in jeans and her leather jacket. She wanted to meet Angela on her own level.

  Max was waiting with his sister. Since his appearances on TV, he’d got a place to live, sharing a house with some other homeless men who were trying to get jobs and make a go of living in the mainstream of life again. He looked quite presentable, in a big tweed overcoat, minus the straw hat.

  As they approached the couple, Serena kept her smile focused on Angela. She wore a long flowery skirt, black leather combat boots and kept her hands planted in the pockets of a tweed jacket as she returned Serena’s greeting.

  Serena noticed that Nick stood back and let her have the space beside Angela. “Why don’t we just go for coffee,” Serena suggested.

  “Fine.” Angela glanced at her twin brother. “Can Max come? I always buy him lunch when I’m in the city.”

  “Of course. Max has got lots of experience in TV now. Haven’t you, Max?”

  Max nodded. “Yeah. I was quite good.”

  “Very good. I’m pleased you got something out of it.” Nick spoke for the first time and he took up the rear with Max, behind Serena and Angela, as they walked along the street.

  Serena knew a small restaurant with high-back booths where they wouldn’t be disturbed. It was a haunt from her news van days. They all went inside the warm, coffee-fragrant café and managed to squeeze into a booth. Nick suggested they might as well have lunch, but Angela decided coffee was enough for her. While Max and Nick chose their meals, Serena sipped her coffee from a big white mug and looked at Angela.

  “I’m planning an interview with you that will let your story unfold, Angela.”

  Angela stirred her coffee with the spoon, even though she drank it black.” That’s fine. But I don’t want to be shown for the interview. I don’t want Lawson’s name mentioned. His second name is Wayne. We can call him Wayne.”

  “Whatever you want.” Serena didn’t like interviews with disguises. She glanced at Nick and saw his skeptical expression.

  “What about my voice?”

  “We can fix it. We’ll tape the interview ahead, so it can be edited. I’m presuming this is dangerous for you?” She gave Nick a look that said, Don’t say a word.

  “Dangerous? Yes. But it’s a story needing to be told.”

  As they continued to make plans for the interview Serena grew excited. Maybe this is how her father had felt, how Nick probably felt, when they were in a country withholding secrets that the world ought to know about. At last she understood.

  Armed with this understanding, Serena read her father’s book that evening. She sat curled into an armchair with a quilt wrapped around her and read. She read in her evening bath. She took the book to bed and propped herself up with pillows. She finished it at one in the morning, and when she closed the covers, she didn’t know want to think. She felt awash in Stuart Redding Brown’s philosophy.

  One thing she did know, though. He’d loved her. He hadn’t shown it in the way she’d longed for him to show it, by being there for her all of her life, but he had loved her. He’d died loving her and her mother. He would have died loving Seth as well, if he’d known about him.

  But he was one mixed-up kid, she decided, still awake by early morning. He’d lived on instinct, booze and drugs. Nick was probably right about Stuart Redding Brown needing a base after her one set of grandparents had died. Unfortunately, his base had been people he had managed to hurt.

  She would always resent his absence, but she was more reconciled with his lifestyle now. Nick had helped her to that more peaceful place. She reached for Pascal, who was stirring for the morning, and stroked his soft warm fur. Everything for her came back to Nick these days, and how she loved him more all the time.

  •

  Nick was startled when Serena tossed her father’s book down on his desk the following morning. “I read it.”

  He looked at her. Her hair was sleek and already coiffured by the studio hairdresser, her makeup and her white suit perfect. “All in one go?”

  “Yep. All in one go. Once I got going I just inhaled it. It feels good. You’re right. Real good.”

  He noticed her voice quaver with emotion. “You’re not being cynical about that?”

  She shook her head. “No. It’s the truth. I discovered some things I didn’t know. Some things I needed to know. Some things I wish I still didn’t know. But that’s okay. I’m grown up now. I can take it.”

  He smiled. “Serena. It upset you?”

  “No. Truthfully. I’m fine. I’m over him.”

  “I’m over him as well.”

  She frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “Well.” He sat back in his chair. “I always immersed myself in his story, paralleling it to mine in some ways. But I don’t think that’s true anymore. In fact, I think I might have moved on from him.”

  “Exactly, Nick. I’m just going to remember him for what he contributed to journalism, and I’m willing to do a documentary on him if you want.”

  “Maybe. But we’ve got quite a bit on our plate right now.”

  “Fine. However, it’s okay with me if you want.”

  Nick could tell she was being truthful. If he’d done nothing for her, he’d helped her disassociate herself from the pain of her childhood. And she’d done the same for him as well. It would never be over but it was more bearable. “I’ll put it on my agenda. In the meantime we have to go interview your mother once more.”

  “Just before we do,” she said. “Would you like to come to my place for the weekend? I feel I need some time at home. I have to do some gardening before the winter.”

  “You want me to help with your gardening?”

  “Isn’t that how you got me up to your apartment in the first place?”

  “Partly. Sure. I’d love to spend the weekend with you.”

  “Good.” She smiled and turned to leave. “See you downstairs.”

  The second episode on Reeva aired that evening and she made her public announcement that she was leaving politics. The next day the local papers were full of her. Nick watched Serena go around shaking her head and asking why her mother would want this type of publicity.

  “It was entirely your mother’s idea,�
� he said. “Admit it. Your whole family enjoys publicity. Otherwise none of you would be in the public eye.”

  “And you’re the same.”

  He put up his hand. “Count me in.”

  The rest of Friday Nick spent with the real estate agent at his parents’ apartment and he could tell that his mother and father were pleased to let him handle affairs. He even suspected they felt some relief that he was here to do this for them. They were willing to admit that the time had come for them to move. His mother couldn’t even negotiate the steps without almost being lifted. Nick arranged for a nurse to go in each day to help her, and his father didn’t contradict any of Nick’s decisions. He seemed dazed by events. Stephen had experienced a bad shock when his wife had injured herself. Without his wife to run around after him, he had no one.

  Nick didn’t like to see his parents having to react to this reality of being old. It was sad when he remembered how active they’d been when they were young. But it was reality. And reality was what he was into facing these days. Because behind everything he did over the next few hours he was thinking ahead until the weekend he would be spending with Serena.

  •

  Serena stayed at his apartment on Friday night. She had the Jeep with her and he was driving it to her house. He was having a hard time believing that Nick the adventurer was looking forward with so much relish to a weekend at home. Home had always been, for him, some place to be avoided.

  He drove with the window wound down. The countryside smelled crisp and fruity, the fields at rest awaiting winter snows.

  “Not too windy for you, is it?” he asked Serena

  “No. It’s fine. It’s warm for November.”

  “It’s great for November.” He was collecting memories of Serena now. Serena the night he’d met her. Serena at work in Studio Three. Serena in the hotel room at Niagara-on-the-Lake. Serena in his parents’ apartment.

  “What are you thinking about?” she asked.

  “I was thinking we’re getting serious.”

  “We’re not supposed to be. This is going to end in the spring. So we’re taking what we can get. Great Sex. Isn’t that what it’s all about?” She shrugged. “And a gardener.”