Ember Flowers (24 page)

The blonde girl
nodded. Looking at her through sleepy eyes.

Jean rubbed her
other small hand. “Does it hurt anywhere honey?”

Annabelle shook
her head. “Sleepy.”

Jo smiled, a
weary grin. “I know, me too.” She stifled a yawn. Her arms sliding
around the girl, Jo lifted her gently. By the time she had tucked
her in down the hall, the blue eyes had closed in peaceful
slumber.

Jean lay on her
side in bed, watching Jo slide off her uniform. The heavy belt and
thick pants came off after her boots. Then she unbuttoned her
shirt, neat snicks as the cloth opened. She folded the clothes in a
pile on the dresser.

The brunette
yawned, but was quite content with the view.

“You did well.
A screaming toddler is every parent’s nightmare.” Jo placed the
studs of her earrings on top of the nearby shelf, turning to look
at her in front of the lamp.

Jean waved her
hand dismissively. “She was fine Jo. Just in pain and she didn’t
know why. Once she had the drops and the aspirin she quieted right
down. I was worried myself, poor thing.”

Jo nodded,
going and finding some sleep wear in the bag she brought with her.
A t-shirt with a distressed print, little satin shorts with
flowers. She returned to the bedroom, pulling the cover’s back and
sliding into the vacant space. She nestled against Jean’s warm
side.

The brunette’s
arm slid around her. “How did things go with your mysterious
thing?”

Jo smiled
triumphantly, a raised brow and grin despite how tired she was.
“Drug bust, they saw an opening and called everyone in. Twelve key
of heroin that won’t reach the streets. They needed every uniform
they could get.”

Jean kissed her
forehead. “My girlfriend does important things.”

She was a
little taken aback. “Your girlfriend huh?” Jo considered the title
for a moment. She rolled onto her back, staring up at the
ceiling.

“Mmhm. I
referred to you as my girlfriend today in fact.” She gauged Jo’s
reaction.

Her head
turned. Grey eyes watched her closely. “When?”

“Doctor’s
office. They asked if Annabelle was mine.”

“Oh.” Jo rolled
back into Jean’s chest, propping her temple on her knuckles. “I
suppose..girlfriend is the best way to describe it, isn’t it?”

Jean played
idly with her hair, it lay over the pillow and her shoulder as Jo
got comfortable. She was feeling sedate and happy. She could get
used to Jo coming home to her. “A way of saying I care about you,
and I think about you, and I like having you around. That you’re
more than a friend, more than a lover.” Her fingertips stroked the
blonde’s cheek. Jean gazed at her thoughtfully.

Jo looked back,
feeling the butterflies fluttering. She had to look away, the look
from the gentle almond eyes a little intense. “It’s late, maybe we
should get some sleep?”

Jean smiled at
her lazily, she seemed to want to say something, but was holding
her tongue. She sighed softly. “OK. Sweet dreams then.” She reached
behind her, turning off the bedside lamp.

“Night.”

They were
silent for a while in the dark, each lying there getting
comfortable.

Jean’s soft
voice broke the quiet, she knew her lover was still awake. “I have
a confession to make..”

Jo wasn’t sure
what to make of that, her inner pessimist raised its head. “Tell
me.”

Jean sighed. “I
think I might have trouble keeping to our no strings, no
obligations arrangement.”

The blonde
rolled toward her. Her hand leaving Jean’s to prop herself up.
She’d been thinking about that herself. Kerry finding out had
shocked her into old patterns, to question things again. Somehow
she always came back to the same realisation, despite the risks,
she wanted this.

“Why?”

“Well..” She
paused, taking a breath. “I think I might be falling for you, and
suddenly no strings doesn’t seem like an option.”

The policewoman
nodded, running her fingertips over the blanket. “I see.”

A quick
concerned breath. “I..I understand if you don’t feel the same way
Jo. But I just felt like you had to know.”

Truthfully she
wasn’t surprised.
Jean had been looking at her differently
lately
. Her behaviours hadn’t changed, she still opened doors
for her, still flirted, kissed, made her smile. But something had
deepened between them, the way Jean reached for her sometimes,
touched her as though she’d disappear into a dream. She even seemed
to be bonding with her daughter, Annabelle asked about her when
they were at home. If today was any indication, the pair seemed to
get along well.

There was a
pregnant silence, Jean just lay looking at her in the dark, the
outline of her face visible in the low light.

“I’m not going
anywhere Jean.” The blonde grasped her hand, giving it a squeeze
before rolling over. A sigh of relief behind her.

Chapter
34

Annabelle sat
by Owen’s flip flop clad feet, his apartment was decorated with the
essentials, sofas, table, flat screen television. He’d had to hide
the remote more than once, his young daughter loved to play with
the buttons. She scribbled on the coffee table, crayons everywhere,
while he watched the news.

He’d moved here
after things broke down with Jo. She needed her space, was quite
insistent about it. Staying would only make things worse, and
things were bad enough as it is.

He missed her.
Her blonde hair spread over the pillow beside him as she slept, her
home cooked dinners, her warm laugh. He had loved showing her off,
the statuesque blonde always drew envious looks, and he beamed
knowing she was his.

Owen hoped that
she’d come to her senses, though it seemed less and less likely.
The paperwork shoved in his face still sat unsigned on the kitchen
table. Couldn’t bring himself to do it. To sever the tie with the
mother of his child. Marriage null and void. Her recent protests at
letting him see his little girl added more tension. Relenting only
when her terms were met.

With a sigh the
handsome man sat up, patting his daughter’s back. The little blonde
scribbled away at something with her small hands, colours smeared
all over the paper.

“Oh. A horsie
huh?” Their shapes were vaguely recognisable as such.

She turned
around, looking up at him with a toothy grin. The sketch was of two
horses grazing. Vivid green spiky grass and their legs
disproportionately long. Annabelle pointed. “Keezey, Orgia.”

“They have
names?”

She nodded
enthusiastically. “Jean.”

His mood
darkened, but he nodded. His large hand stroked his daughter’s soft
hair.

“Jean huh? You
see her lots?”

The child
nodded again, raising her hands to be picked up. He settled them
around her waist, hoisting her up and depositing her on his lap.
She turned to watch the television, the colours and movement
catching her eye.

“What do you do
at Jean’s house?”

A blue matching
his own looked back at him, she smiled, not understanding. She
grabbed her little ear. “Ow.”

“That’s right.
Mummy said you had sore ears. Do you have sore ears now?” He
smiled, tickling her. She giggled in his arms. His face became sad
for a moment. “Your mother is ticklish too. Bet Jean doesn’t know
that, does she?” Jo had mentioned that Jean had taken her to the
doctor. The thought of that woman alone with his daughter made him
crazy.

Annabelle
hopped off his lap, wandering into the kitchen, he saw her pull
open the pantry door. He got up to watch her.

“What are you
doing kiddo?” He followed her. She was rummaging through the lower
shelves. “Lolly?”

She’d picked up
that word early. Much like ice cream. He gave them to her
occasionally, partly because the child liked them, partly because
he knew it would annoy Joanne.

“No Annabelle,
no lollies.”

She frowned, an
expression that was identical to her mother’s. It made him chuckle.
She understood some things and not others. Usually if he kept it
short she would know what he meant.

His phone rang,
buzzing across the kitchen counter. He walked over to it with
casual strides. “Roy, yeah I’m here.” He looked over at Annabelle,
who had returned to the sofa.

“Yeah come
over, my daughter’s here though..”

“Yeah..so keep
that stuff at home. My kid will tell on me. Besides, I think the
neighbours can smell it. Old bastard gave me a funny look..Yeah,
OK, see you.”

Twenty minutes
later Owen opened the door to his old friend, Joanne’s colleague,
Roy. He took off his cap, and looked around the living room as he
shuffled in. His hands in his pockets as he padded over the dark
blue carpet. The blue eyes looked him over. “Man you look
baked?”

Roy shrugged.
“Don’t tell anyone.”

The two
chuckled, sitting down in the kitchen while Owen grabbed a beer
from the fridge. Annabelle looked over at her father’s guest. Roy
spun the papers around so he could read them. “Shit Owen, Jo wants
a divorce?”

He scowled.
“Yeah, she’s not thinking straight. We’re working on it. ”

Owen’s friend
rubbed his shaven cheek. “That’s too bad. You think I have a
shot?”

Owen scowled at
him. “Fuck off.”

Roy chuckled.
“C’mon, I was joking, don’t be such a bitch.”

The blue eyes
narrowed, he took a long draw from the brown bottle. “Don’t joke
about it. She’s already shacked up with someone else.”

He crossed his
arms, leaning back as the chair squeaked, studying the wooden
veneer. “Moves fast. What’s his name? We could pay him a
visit?”

Owen shook his
head, tipping back his beer. “No.”

“Why? I’ll help
you.”

“Just drop it.”
A caged menace in his tone as his words ground out.

Roy shrugged
his shoulders. “Fine, whatever.”

It took a few
more drinks, and Annabelle asleep in the other room for him to talk
about it.

They sat
together on the sofa, Owen flicked the ash of his cigarette into
the glass ashtray. A long drag as he dropped the pack onto the
table. A social smoker. Jo hated that, too.

“So what about
the kid? Does she want custody?”

“Annabelle?
Over my dead body. No way is my little girl gonna grow up around
that dyke.” He sipped, ripping the label off the empty bottle.

“What?” Roy
didn’t understand. Owen regretted his choice of words.

“Never
mind.”

“What do you
mean? Dyke? Jo’s too pretty.”

Owen grit his
teeth, reaching over to pick up a manila folder with loose sheets
inside, passing it to his friend. Photos of Jo. Large glossy photos
of Jo’s house. The battered ute in the driveway. Another shot, Jo
leaning in to kiss the brunette outside Jean’s office.

“Whoa.” Roy’s
eyes went round, scanning image with a lingering glance, his brow
raising.

“I know.
Fucked, right?”

“What are you
going to do about this? She’s gone after your wife. I like Jo, but
I dunno, it’s just..wrong.”

Owen’s sofa
squeaked as he leant back. He sighed, feeling resigned. Usual brute
force hadn’t done him any favours. “What would you do?”

“Jo’s a hard
woman, but she’s sentimental too. Make a big deal out of it, tell
her you’ll change. Maybe she’ll believe you.” Roy flipped the
channel on the remote.

“I tried that.
Didn’t work.”

“Pull the
lesbian over, tell her how it’s going to be.”

“Tried that
too. Jo found out. It made things worse.”

Roy shrugged
his shoulders again. “Got any dirt on that other woman?”

Owen crossed
his arms over his chest. “She’s 42, unmarried, pays her taxes.
She’s squeaky clean, couple of speeding tickets. That’s it.”

“You want me to
put pressure on Jo? I see her everyday. I could say something. Tell
her I know? Might give her a scare?”

“She’s not
stupid, it’ll come back to me. It would just piss her off.”

Roy rested his
foot on the coffee table. “Why not make something up? Tell Jo you
were worried? That you found something on her? Tell her she’s
making a mistake?”

Owen ran her
fingertips over his short buzzed hair, sighing. “She’s suspicious
of me Roy. Sometimes, I think she even hates me. She won’t believe
a word I say.”

“I’m sorry man.
That’s tough.”

“Tell me about
it.”

Movement drew
his eye. A little blonde form by the doorway, looking at them from
behind the doorframe. Owen smiled at her as he stood walking over,
reaching out and ruffling her hair. “Hey cutie, you should be
sleeping..”

“Story?”

“It’s late, you
should be fast asleep.” He ushered her back to the spare bedroom.
Returning after few minutes, the little girl told him how her
mother usually read to her, how Jean would make her breakfast in
the morning when they were there. How sometimes she would pat the
horses when her mother let her. She didn’t know every word was like
a dagger, only confirming what he already knew. His wife and
daughter were moving further away, soon he would hardly know them.
Memories of his little girl would only be limited to weekend visits
and photographs. Before he could blink she would be a teenager. He
would be the awkward one standing in the back row watching her life
go by.

His face was a
quiet mask when he sat back down, his friend noticed the gritting
of his jaw.

“They’re
playing happy family without me. Annabelle adores that bitch. I
can’t believe it.”

The Officer
beside him nodded. “Annabelle’s just a little girl. She’ll make
friends with anyone Owen. Don’t take it personal.”

“How can I
not!? Joanne’s even letting her baby sit. I may as well just sign
the damn papers. I’ve lost them.”

“She lets her
baby sit? Leaves her alone with her?”