She’d told Jack they weren’t seeing them off at the airport. It was the last thing Tammy wanted—a long, drawn-out goodbye in front of strangers or even to sit opposite Leon at a small café table and make small talk in front of their sons. The picnic would be hard enough but at least it was private.
Tammy was meeting them back in the kitchen in half an hour to make the hamper. When they’d gone she slipped next door in search of her father.
Ben was painting the bottom of his old rowboat down the long yard that backed onto the lake. No trip to the beach this weekend. The ghost gum towered into the sky and shaded the grassy knoll above the water where he worked. The boatshed was where her father came when he was stressed.
She’d spent months of lazy summer afternoons with Ben and Misty here, watching swans and ducks when Jack was a baby. She realised time, peaceful and trouble-free time, so different to now, had drifted by like the floating leaves from the overhanging trees.
‘Hello, there, Tam.’ Her father looked up with a smile and his piercing blue eyes narrowed at the strain in her face.
He wiped the excess paint off the paintbrush and balanced it carefully across the top of the open paint tin before he stood. ‘How are you? How’s Jack? What’s happened was huge. Bigger than anything we’ve had to cope with before.’ He came closer. ‘You okay, honey?’
She watched one large drip of red paint slide down the end of the brush and fall onto the grass like a drop of blood. A spectre of foreboding. But she didn’t have premonitions—that was Misty’s way. She shivered. She was here for a reason. ‘I’ll be fine when Leon’s gone and Jack’s safe.’ As if to convince herself?
Her father’s dark brows, so like her own, raised in question. He slid an arm around her shoulders and drew her to sit beside him on the circular iron stool that ringed the trunk of the biggest gum.
‘You think the two go together, do you? Leon and trouble?’
‘Of course.’ So quickly she could say that but still there was that tiny seed of doubt planted last night, an illogical but still possible seed that maybe the trouble had come from her.
She wasn’t sure how to broach a subject every-one in her family had left alone for more than eight years.
‘Do you remember when you came for me that last time at Grandma’s?’
Ben’s black brows rose in surprise. ‘Of course.’
‘Did you ever learn much about Jack’s father?’
Ben’s arm slid away and he straightened and gazed across the lake. ‘Yes. A little.’
She wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d said, ‘No—nothing,’ so the other answer made her curious. She couldn’t read his face. ‘What could you know? I didn’t tell you much.’
Still he didn’t look at her. ‘I found out what I needed to. To be sure you were safe when I took you away. To be sure Jack was safe.’
She really didn’t want to hear those words. To be sure Jack was safe. Her stomach plummeted as she watched his profile. ‘I think Vincente was involved with the mob on a small scale.’
Ben winced. ‘I believe he was. I spoke to his mother and he was betrothed to a woman in Italy so he was never going to marry you.’
‘Do you think there is any reason they’d want Jack now?’ She’d said it. Out loud because she needed her father to deny, say it was nonsense, because she couldn’t say it to Leon, whom she needed to tell.
Ben looked away again and didn’t meet her eyes. Her stomach sank and she didn’t want to think about the ramifications of that. He hesitated but then he said, ‘Can’t think of one.’
Tammy sighed with relief. ‘Of course not.’
CHAPTER EIGHT
THE picnic had been Jack’s idea. The boys kicked a soccer ball between them as they walked down to the water along the shaded path and every now and then Jack cupped his hands around his mouth and called, ‘Coo-ee,’ across the lake. Paulo would imitate him. The echoes bounced off the hills across the lake and rolled back over the water and Tammy could hear the boys giggle up ahead as they trickled the ball between them.
Somewhere to the right a kookaburra laughed at nothing in particular and she drew the moment in with the breath of freshly mown grass that drifted across the street. It was good to remember what normal felt like.
Not that it was normal to have a gorgeous Italian man by her side. ‘The hamper not too heavy, Leon?’ Tammy glanced across as they strode down the leaf-strewn path.
Leon swung the hamper as if it was filled with fluff and nonsense but Tammy knew it must have weighed a ton. ‘It’s fine.’
Like heck it was. She’d put cans of soft drink, a thermos of freshly brewed coffee, mountains of savoury mini quiches, cold sausage rolls and a full bottle of tomato sauce in with the meat and rolls. Small boys could eat man-size portions. Then there were the sweets on plates Misty had forced on her.
As she walked she kept glancing at his bulging biceps and, becoming more noticeable, the veins in Leon’s right arm. She clamped her lips on the smile that wanted to spread across her face. She could tell there was a little strain adding up. He swapped to the other arm.
By the time they’d reached one of the picnic tables under the trees she could’ve put a drip in his veins with a garden hose. She waited for the sigh as he lifted the bag onto the table and wasn’t disappointed. She had to laugh.
He slanted a glance at her. ‘And what amuses you?’
‘How useful a man’s arm is when you need it.’ She grinned down at the hamper. ‘I’m afraid I loaded the food up. On my own I’d have put it in the car and driven it down.’
He smiled and said cryptically, ‘It kept my hands busy.’
Just one little comment like that and a dragon unfurled inside her stomach. He could seduce her in an instant in an open park with children a few feet away. How did he do that?
When the soccer ball came out of nowhere and almost hit her in the head, it put paid to the dragon and she stumbled back. Leon’s hand speared out to knock the ball away, then caught her arm to help her balance. He turned and raised his brows at the boys.
‘Oops. Sorry, Mum.’ There was a pause and then Jack added, ‘Sorry, Mr Bonmarito.’
‘Perhaps you could aim for those trees behind you,’ Leon suggested mildly, but the boys immediately spun to face the other way.
‘You’re proving handy this morning.’
‘Sì.’ Very quietly, under his breath, she heard him add, ‘And sometimes at night.’
Tammy fought the tide of colour away from her cheeks and just managed to keep it in check as she began to unpack the hamper. Change subject. ‘What time do you meet Gianni and Emma at the airport?’
‘Five. Our plane leaves at eight.’ Leon reached across and took the heavy thermos and weighed it in his hand. He raised his brows at her. ‘Could you not find a house brick to place in the bag as well?’
She grinned. He made her smile and she sneaked a look at his handsome profile as he gazed across the lake. She’d miss him. More than a little. She couldn’t remember ever being so at ease with a man on one hand and so supersensitised on the other.
Leon reached in and stole a juicy prawn wrapped in lettuce and she offered the tiny plastic container with seafood sauce.
He smiled and dipped, then took his time raising it to his mouth, a teasing light in his dark eyes and she couldn’t help but follow it. He was laughing at her but it was nice. She watched him indulgently as he closed his eyes in pleasure. But when he licked those glorious lips, capable of such heat and hunger, last night flooded back and she wished she’d just given him the sauce and run away.
‘Your seafood is amazing.’
‘Ah.’ Brain dead. Wake up. ‘Yes. I love it.’ She replaced the lid on the sauce in such a hurry it splashed over her hand, but before she could wipe it clean he’d taken her wrist and brought it to his mouth. A long slow sip of sauce and she was undone. Her dragon breathed a spurt of fire as her belly unfurled and there was no hope of keeping the pink out of her face this time. S
he glanced hurriedly at the boys but they were running and whooping between the trees with the ball.
She rushed into speech. ‘Misty’s excelled herself in sweets. It’s almost embarrassing.’ She opened the folded cloth to offer the plates with plastic film displaying their contents. ‘Let’s see,’ she garbled. ‘Oh, Lamingtons.’ Bite-size Lamingtons, chocolate eclairs oozing creamy custard, tiny swirls of meringue with tart lemon sauce in the middle. And another squat steel thermos jammed with homemade ice cream and some waffle cones to hold the ice cream which helped restore her sense of humour. With the crockery and the thermos she’d bet that weighed a ton too.
Leon wasn’t seeing the food. He would miss her. His hands stretched in his pockets where he’d thrust them away from her. He wanted to pull her into his arms and lose himself and could feel the tension between them stretching. Perhaps he should kick the ball with the boys as a more useful outlet for unexpected action. ‘Do you need help setting out the food?’
She shook her head. ‘A bit of space would be great.’
He grinned to himself. ‘Always so complimentary. It is fortunate my feelings cannot be hurt.’
‘Or mine,’ she retaliated, and he turned away with a shake of his head. She could be stubborn and blunt to the point of offence, but despite her efforts he could see through the independent facade she insisted on showing him. He had the impression it was he that brought out this harsher side of her and he acknowledged she had reason to distance him.
‘Kick me the ball, Paulo,’ he called, and the boys whooped as he joined their game. Fearlessly Jack attempted to tackle and when Leon sidestepped him Jack fell laughing to the ground.
Paulo swooped on his father while he was distracted and stole the ball and the three of them were bumping and pushing one another as they fought for possession. It was no surprise that soon they were all laughing and wrestling on the ground.
The immaculate Leon Bonmarito rolling in the grass with two grubby boys. It hurt too much to watch. This was what she couldn’t give her son, though Ben had the same man-versus-man mentality that boys seemed to love. She didn’t understand it but could see that Jack was delighted with the rough and tumble.
Leon looked and acted so big and tough and yet he was so good with the boys. She wished she’d been spared this memory. Jack was sent rolling away and Paulo dived on his father. She was sure someone would be hurt soon. Then it would all end in tears. The table was ready, almost groaning under the tablecloth full of ham and silverside rolls and the mountains of cold savouries she suddenly didn’t have the stomach for.
She called to the boys. ‘Come and eat.’
It took a minute for her voice to soak into the huddle on the ground but then they brushed themselves off and walked back towards her, all smiling and filthy. She pointed to the wipes she opened at the edge of the food.
‘You can all wash your hands.’
‘Yes, Mama,’ Leon said as he shook his head at the spread. ‘I think we need to put out a sign and invite people to share.’
She began to pour drinks. ‘That happens. If you see anyone, wave them over.’
Leon believed her. This past week had shown him a town full of generosity and warmth and the concept of sharing was in every connection he made. He bit back the tinge of jealousy that wasn’t worthy of him. His own life was different, and he wasn’t able to function like this self-sufficient small town could. He had responsibilities, people depending on him and his family business to continue to grow to provide a service for those in need.
He was glad they had the chance today to do something normal. Though the taste of this magical interlude would no doubt come back to haunt in his and Paulo’s emptily spacious apartment in Rome.
By the time they’d finished what they could, the boys were groaning and tottering back to their ball and Leon had subsided with a sigh onto the picnic rug.
‘Had enough?’ Tammy teased, and she looked over at him with satisfaction. When you don’t know what to do with a man, you could always overfeed him.
Before she’d been foolish enough to sleep with him he’d taken up a huge portion of her day even when he wasn’t there in person. Now, with so many memories in all dimensions, he would be everywhere.
Tonight he would be gone and the long nights ahead promised little rest at all. She was such a fool. But the opportunity for further foolishness was drawing to a close and when he invited her with a questioning look, she eased down beside him on the rug until their shoulders touched. She had no problem imagining more. Her ears heated with the need to tell him her secret.
Last night, in the dark, after he’d warmed her in a way she would never forget, he’d whispered again to her in his native tongue and the burden of her deceit had grown impossible.
He’d whispered softly how being able to hold her in his arms had been the only thing that had kept him sane while the boys were missing.
That his guilt for drawing her into this mess had been very hard and her forgiveness so precious.
How hard it would be to fit back into his life as he remembered the feel of her weight against his chest and how much he savoured the little time they’d had together and the gift she’d given him.
All soul-exposing statements he didn’t know she understood.
Maybe it could have been different if he didn’t live on the other side of the world. She could never leave the lake, take Jack from his grandparents, leave her friends and her work and, if she was honest, her independence, and just move in with Leon. Not that he’d asked her.
But she knew she’d be unable to go to Rome and not be in his arms again.
‘Do you think you will come to Italy next month? For the maternity wing.’ It was as if he’d read her mind without looking. He shifted his attention back to her and it was her turn to look out across the water.
The smile fell off her face. ‘Perhaps.’ No, she didn’t think so.
He slid his finger beneath her chin and turned her face towards him. ‘You do not seem too sure.’
She met his eyes. ‘I’m not. I need to think about the idea when my head isn’t full of kidnappings and work crises and other—’ she grimaced ‘—emotionally charged events I’m not sure what to think of.’
He nodded and let her chin go. ‘I won’t pressure you. Though I’d like to. Perhaps you will think about it. I know my new sister-in-law would be pleased.’
Bring in the big guns, why don’t you, Tammy thought with a sigh. Emma would understand though.
She looked back across the lake so he couldn’t read her eyes. ‘We’ll see.’
The boys returned and fell down beside them. She saw the glances they exchanged at the closeness between Leon and herself and she ached for their naiveté. She’d wondered if Jack would be wary of Leon but he seemed to accept that the big man had a place in his mother’s attention. Maybe because he knew that place had come to an end?
In the few minutes they all lay there before packing up, the simple pleasures of the morning rolled over them. Even the boys were silent and peace stole over their blanket.
The blue sky through the leaves overhead hurt her eyes it was so bright—or that’s what Tammy told herself, why her eyes stung—and small puffy clouds skittered and were reflected in the lake that stretched away through the trees.
It was a perfect day for their overseas visitors to see before they left. The thought bounced around like an echo in her head. That’s what they were. Visitors. Tammy felt the emotion and the hopelessness of the dream overwhelm her.
She heard the sharply indrawn breath of Leon beside her, and turned to see a small brown bird poke an inquisitive head out of the bush across from them.
A lyrebird, his beady brown eyes unblinking, tilted his beak at Leon and then stepped fearlessly out into the open less than ten feet from where they lay. The boys froze and covered their mouths with their hands, their little chests almost bursting with suppressed excitement.
The lyrebird lifted his brown, curved tail until it s
tood behind him like a fan, then shivered and shifted his feathers, until the upright display was to his satisfaction.
Only then did he strut and pivot in a stately dance to show them his glory.
When he opened his mouth the unexpected sound poured out. ‘Coo-ee.’ The notes from the lyrebird soared across the lake and bounced back at them. Strong and sure and perfectly mimicked on the boys earlier. ‘Coo-ee,’ the lyrebird trilled again, and he stared at them all as if he’d just given them a very important message. Then his tail fell and with regal disregard for politeness he disappeared back into the bush.
Tammy felt the air ease from her lungs, and the collective sigh almost lifted the paper napkins into the air. Jack whispered, ‘A lyrebird. Grandpa told me about them.’
‘It copied our call.’ Paulo, too, was whispering.
‘That’s what they do. They imitate noises,’ Tammy said quietly. ‘They can copy anything. Even a baby crying.’ She felt like crying herself it had been so magical. She sighed and somehow the load seemed a little lighter. ‘We’d better pack up.’
Leon stared at the bush, his mind strangely less cluttered by the past. But no doubt that was because the present had been so chaotic. The bird had looked at him, and of all the memories of this place he would take with him today, that bird, and these people spellbound by his dance and song, would remain with him.
It was time for the Bonmaritos to leave. They’d said goodbye to Ben and Misty and Louisa already.
The fierceness of Paulo’s hug surprised Tammy, as did her own in return. The lump in her throat grew as she hugged him back.
Paulo’s beautiful dark eyes, so like his father’s, so serious and young, seemed dreadfully in need of a mother. Her heart ached for him, and for Jack, and the loss of what could have been.
She tried to imagine how this quiet young boy felt, all he’d gone through, even worse than Jack because he’d been taken twice. She hugged him again. Paulo had to feel nervous.
Midwife, Mother...Italian's Wife Page 10
