Unexpected

by Jenny Frame

  “I’m not going to give up until I make you smile, Becca,” Dale said before getting into her van.

  Good luck with that, thought Becca.

  * * *

  At eleven, Becca made a mug of tea, took a packet of biscuits from the cupboard, and went out to the garage. As much as she was uncertain if Dale should be here or not, she wasn’t ungrateful.

  When she approached the garage, she could hear Dale before she saw her. Was she really singing what Becca thought she was?

  Becca opened the door, and Dale was in mid-dance with a wrench in place of a microphone.

  She had to physically stop herself from laughing.

  Dale, caught in the act, stopped dead and lowered the wrench slowly, while her cheeks went pink. “Uh…I was working, it’s just my favourite song. I like Britney’s music. It makes me want to dance,” Dale babbled.

  Dale had on blue oil-stained overalls tied off at the waist, and her T-shirt revealed a Celtic style tattoo on her biceps. Her whole look was dishevelled and sexy, and Becca had the insane urge to go over and run her hands through her thick messy-styled hair.

  Get a grip, Becca told herself. “I brought you tea and biscuits.”

  Dale looked delighted that she was being kind to her, and that made Becca feel guilty. Was she that cold to people? But then she reminded herself what being open and friendly had cost her once before.

  Never again.

  Dale took the tea and looked at the packet of chocolate covered biscuits with a smile. “You’re giving me the posh biscuits? You must have liked my joke this morning.”

  Becca didn’t quite know what to say to that. “Posh biscuits? They’re just biscuits.”

  “When I was wee, we called the chocolate ones posh biscuits, cause my ma only brought the chocolate ones out if the priest was coming to visit, or for visitors. Me and my sister used to steal them off the plate and blame Father Benedict.”

  There was something so innocent and childlike about Dale McGuire, it was hard to keep her distant persona intact without laughing. All of the adults she had ever mixed with were serious professionals, Dale was something completely new to her.

  “Well I can assure you that it’s just the biscuits I had open and that’s why you’re getting them.”

  Dale leaned against the car and took a sip of her tea. “I suppose for a posh girl like you, posh biscuits are an everyday thing.”

  That name annoyed Becca a touch. After all, she was sure Dale had much, much more money in the bank than she’d had in a long, long time. “I’m not posh. Look around you. The place is falling apart at the seams.”

  “It doesn’t matter what your surroundings are or how much money you have—it’s just who you are, and you, Becca, are a classy lady.”

  Becca didn’t quite know how to respond to that, so she changed the subject. “How long do you think this will take?”

  Dale shrugged. She didn’t particularly want to give a time frame, because then Becca would know when she would be leaving, and she wanted to spin this out as long as she could and get to know Becca a bit better.

  “Depends on how often I can get here to do the work. My manager Sammy is covering for me, but there are some things at work I need to do.”

  “Please don’t neglect your own business on my account,” Becca said.

  “I won’t. Sammy is my best friend and more than capable of running most things without me. No, I need to change the exhaust and get a few more parts, possibly a few weeks?”

  “Okay, just remember you don’t have to do this.”

  Dale put down her mug on her closed toolbox and took a step towards Becca. She was dying to ask about the baby. The baby bump that Becca rested her hand on attracted her like a beacon, and she wanted to know everything about it.

  “How are you feeling, Becca? You know, with the baby and everything.”

  As soon as she motioned the baby, Becca started to physically clam up and pull away. “I’m fine. I just need to look after myself. If you don’t mind, I need to get back to my studio.”

  “Studio?” Dale asked.

  “I have a photography studio in my attic. If you need anything, just let me know, but you need to go before Jake gets home after three.”

  “I will, I promise. Thanks for the tea.” Dale was going to have to work really hard to get through the hard outer shell Becca kept around herself, but she would, no matter what.

  * * *

  Over the next few days Dale got into a pattern of arriving just after the school bus left, and each day the pull to see Jake again was bigger.

  Before starting work on the car, she would head to the kitchen and leave a sticky note on the kitchen door with a joke written on it. Since Becca didn’t come to talk to her often, it was the only way she could think of to build up some kind of communication with her.

  It appeared that it started to work after a few days, because by the third day, there was a note waiting for her in reply, attached to a bag with a sandwich and a flask of tea.

  It read, If I give you lunch, will you stop telling me bad jokes?

  Dale laughed to herself, and then took out her pen to write back. Nah, hen. It’ll only make me try harder…Why couldn’t the pony sing himself a lullaby? He was a little hoarse.

  “She’s got to laugh at that one.”

  Dale went to the garage and started working on Becca’s exhaust. She could be doing everything a whole lot quicker, but she was trying to drag things out as long as possible. She wanted to get Becca to trust her. Perhaps it was a good thing that Jake wasn’t around just now. It gave Dale the time on her own at the vicarage to try and figure Becca out, which wasn’t a straightforward project.

  She was clearly a very complex person. Becca was kind and at the same time cold towards her. Obviously this situation was a big shock to them both, and Dale could understand her being scared, but it wasn’t just that—Dale sensed great sadness and fear in Becca. That made Dale sad, and she wish she could help her in some way. Whatever it was that made Becca so skittish, it must have been something desperately painful for her.

  Dale took her lunch and went to sit on the pile of tyres at the front door of the garage. Just as she was about to bite into her ham and cheese sandwich, the lady from next door came through the gate between the properties, carrying a basket of eggs. Dale stood politely as she approached.

  “Dale, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah, nice to meet.” Dale shook her hand. “It’s Granny Sadie, isn’t it?”

  Sadie chuckled. “Yes, it is, but you can call me Sadie. You’re helping out Becca, I see.”

  “Aye, the car has quite a few problems. Becca was reluctant at first, but she’s allowing me to fix it for her.”

  Sadie took a step towards her and gave her a serious look. “I hope you are genuine, Dale, because Becca has too much on her plate to deal with extra stress. She’s a kind, loving woman, and she deserves so much more than life is giving her at the moment.”

  That was definitely a warning, and Dale was secretly pleased Becca had someone looking out for her.

  “I swear, I just want to help Becca and Jake. I don’t want to upset them, or take Becca’s kids away. I promise.”

  Sadie nodded. “I’ll take you at your word then. Don’t let me down. I’ll just get these eggs up to Becca.”

  About five minutes later she saw Becca come out of the front door of the house, carrying a camera and tripod.

  Becca set up her equipment next to a garden bench that looked over the fields and trees on the land next door.

  It struck Dale how lonely Becca looked—yes, lonely was exactly how she would describe Becca. No one came to visit her, no cars were ever there, no family or friends except Sadie next door.

  On impulse she took what was left of her sandwich and flask and walked over to the other side of the large garden.

  Becca appeared so engrossed in setting a shot that she never heard Dale approach.

  “Uh…hi, Becca.”

  Becca g
rasped her chest in fright. “My God, you could have warned me you were there.”

  “Sorry, sorry. I just wanted to thank you for leaving me lunch.” Dale held up her bag.

  “You’re welcome. It’s the least I can do. How is the car going?”

  “It’s going okay. I’m fitting a new exhaust today and waiting for some other parts to be delivered.”

  Becca looked panicked all of a sudden. “How much are all these parts costing? I don’t want charity.”

  Dale held her hands up in defence. “Hey, don’t worry about it, hen. The parts I can get for next to nothing. This is what you agreed to let me do to help, so I am.” Dale sensed that Becca was getting ready to argue, so she quickly changed the subject. “You’re taking pictures?”

  “Yes, since I can’t work as much, I’m trying to stop myself getting rusty. There’s a lovely tree next door with some beautiful birds attracted by its berries.”

  “Can I see?”

  Becca looked surprised at her request, and unsure of what to say. “I suppose.”

  Dale put her lunch down on the bench, and then went to look through the camera lens.

  “It’s straight ahead, next to the fence,” Becca said.

  Dale saw it and saw all the birds feasting on the berries there. “They are beautiful. How do I zoom in?”

  Becca put her palm on the small of Dale’s back and leaned in to move the lens.

  Dale was afraid to move and lose the touch Becca had initiated, obviously without thinking. But after a moment, she took her eyes off the lens and looked into Becca’s eyes intimately. There was so much going on in the look Becca returned—confusion, fear, but also, Dale was sure, a spark of attraction. It was only there for a second or two, but it was there.

  Then Becca recoiled and turned to open up some other of her camera bags.

  The atmosphere between them immediately frosted up, and Becca said, without turning around, “I won’t keep you. I’m sure you have a lot to do.”

  That was her cue to leave. “Yeah. If you need me for anything, just shout.”

  When Dale was walking away, she heard Becca say, “I don’t need anyone.”

  Chapter Seven

  Two weeks passed with Dale continuing to try to break the ice with Becca, but her usual charm wasn’t working as fast as she’d hoped. It was Friday and she couldn’t drag out the car repair any longer, especially since Becca said she really needed the car for food shopping in the next few days.

  Dale walked reluctantly to the kitchen door and knocked. Knowing it was going to be her last day, she’d bought some things she hoped would help Becca and show her she cared. Dale held the bag and lifted her hand to knock on the door, but she heard Becca shout, “Oh, just work! Please?”

  Whatever it was, it was making Becca angry. Dale knocked on the door and entered. She found Becca looking flushed, hot, and bothered. “Is everything okay?”

  “Yes, everything’s fine. Can I get you something?”

  “No, I just wanted to let you know the car is finished, and you’ll have no more problems.”

  “Okay, thank you. I appreciate it.” Becca picked up her bag and quickly took out her purse. “I want you to take this. I know twenty pounds isn’t near enough for the job, but I want to pay you something.”

  Dale pushed her hand away. “I don’t want your money, Becca. This was about helping you. We agreed—I was helping you.”

  She could see Becca’s stress rising. As Becca crushed the note up tightly in her hand, tears came to her eyes, which really surprised Dale.

  “I don’t like to be beholden to anyone,” Becca said.

  “Look, please, stress isn’t good for you. Everything is okay, and you’re not beholden to me. Twenty pounds means a lot to you and Jake.”

  “It didn’t use to,” Becca said, tears rolling down her face.

  Dale couldn’t believe it. The so far frosty, stubborn Rebecca Harper was breaking down in tears.

  “Hey, it’s okay. Don’t be upset,” Dale said. She had the biggest urge to pull her into a hug, but she resisted and instead escorted her to the kitchen table and got a box of tissues from the countertop.

  Becca cried into a tissue and said, “I’m sorry, I don’t do this. I don’t cry in front of people, but the dishwasher not working is just the last straw.”

  Dale took a chance and took her hand. “I’m not people. We might have only known each other a few weeks, but, well, we share…stuff.”

  Becca dabbed her tears. “Stuff?”

  Dale searched around for some appropriate term that wouldn’t offend Becca. “You know? Egg type stuff.”

  Out of nowhere, Becca started laughing and said in her very upper-middle-class accent, “Egg type stuff?”

  Dale was just as unsure how to react to the laughing as to her tears. “I tell you some brilliant jokes all week and that is what gets you laughing?”

  Becca nodded. “Your jokes are terrible, by the way, but I smiled when I read them every morning, especially the one about the pony.”

  “You did?” Dale felt like she had won another small victory. She’d made the beautiful and remote Becca laugh and smile. That was no mean feat.

  Becca nodded and smiled, wiping away her tears.

  Dale felt she had to explain herself better. “I meant you have part of me. You know?”

  Becca hurriedly dried her tears and blew her nose. She did know what Dale meant. There was something about her—perhaps it was having Dale’s child inside her—which made Becca feel connected to Dale. Then she realized what price her emotional breakdown could cost her. “I do. I’m sorry you had to see that.”

  “Don’t be daft. Everyone gets upset from time to time. You’ve got so much on your plate.”

  A feeling of dread spread through Becca. She had trusted someone with her emotions and secrets before, and it had nearly destroyed her.

  Becca’s calm steely reserve came seeping back. “I suppose you have all the ammunition you need now?”

  “What do you mean?” Dale asked.

  “To take Jake away from me. You have plenty of money for a good lawyer, and now you’ve got the evidence of an emotionally and physically unfit mother who can’t afford to take care of her children.”

  Dale pulled her hand back from Becca’s and looked shocked. “Is that really what you think of me? Have I not shown you these few weeks that I just want to help? I’ve done what you asked, I’ve kept to all your rules, and I wish you would trust that I don’t want to take the kids away from you. I’m not the mother type.”

  “What are you then?” Becca said.

  Dale sat back in her chair and crossed her arms defensively. “A good friend, a playmate for my god-daughter Mia.”

  Becca was surprised. “You have a god-daughter?”

  “Aye, Mia is the daughter of my best friends in the world, Sammy and Val. They’re kind of like parents and siblings, rolled up together, to me. They took me in when I ran away from home to London, penniless and homeless.”

  Dale had so many hidden depths and stories, and Becca wanted to know them. “You ran away from home?”

  She watched Dale squirm uncomfortably in her seat. It was clearly a touchy subject. “It’s a long story. Anyway, I wasn’t wanted, so I came to London to start a new life. I met Sammy at a garage where I was looking for a job, and they took me in.”

  “And Mia?”

  A bright smile covered Dale’s face when she talked about Mia. “Yeah, she’s ten years old, just like Jake. Sammy and Val used a sperm donor from the clinic you used. That’s where I got the idea to donate. Do you want to see a picture?”

  Becca nodded and couldn’t help but smile at Dale’s enthusiasm. There was something about Dale. She clearly had confidence and charm that made Becca certain women flocked to her, but there was something else, a vulnerability that she presumed came from whatever she had been running from, and it was so endearing.

  Dale took out her wallet and handed her a picture. “This is Sammy, Va
l, and Mia together.”

  Becca gazed at the couple she had seen on the McGuire’s Motors website, and was envious of their closeness, and the little brown-haired girl beside them was just beautiful.

  “Mia is a sweet little girl,” Becca said.

  “She is, and so cool. We play computer games and watch films. I just have so much fun with her. Here’s another picture.”

  Dale opened up her smartphone and showed her a picture of Mia up on Dale’s shoulders, at the park. They were laughing and having lots of fun. The strange thing was, this Dale whom she was getting to know and who was beaming with pride, showing her pictures of her god-daughter, was not the one Trent warned her about.

  It struck Becca that Jake didn’t have someone in his life like that. She took care of his needs emotionally and physically, but she wasn’t a parent who was going to kick a ball at the park or chase around in the garden with him. Dale would have been that.

  Dale cleared her throat and said, “So will you trust me that I’m not going to try and take away your kids?”

  Trust was a huge thing for Becca. She didn’t trust anyone except Trent, and even Trent didn’t see her emotional side. But something told her to trust Dale, on this issue anyway. She would miss Dale’s bad jokes waiting for her every morning, and even just her presence working in the garage relaxed her so much. She wasn’t always on her guard with Dale around, like she normally was. Having another person around was nice.

  “I don’t trust anyone, Dale, but I am starting to hope I can trust you.”

  “I’m going to make you trust me. I always keep my word, and I give you my word I’m not here to cause trouble. So tell me what’s wrong with the dishwasher and I’ll fix it.”

  * * *

  Dale screwed on the back of the dishwasher and jumped to her feet. “Okay, moment of truth time.”

  Becca watched her as she pressed the power button, and it lit up straight away.

  “Yes!” Dale shouted. “You’re going to need a new one soon, but that should keep it going.”