Happy Mother's Day! (37 page)

More squeaking bed-springs. What was going on? James
risked a peek through the slit of the doorway but he could only make out their legs—Kane’s skinny with knobbly knees below his school shorts, and Siena’s shapely, tanned, barefoot with hot red toenails and crossed neatly at the knee.

‘The last thing our mums would want is for us to be sad, Kane. Don’t you think yours would want you to be doing well in your school projects? And making friends in class? And smiling all the time like you do when you’re on your trampoline?’

‘I guess.’

‘And I think your dad would want that for you too. You must know that’s what he wants most in the whole world, for you to be happy.’

‘I know.’

‘So, be happy.’

‘Just like that?’

‘Just like that. Wake up, whack a smile on your face and aim to have a good day every day. It’s that simple.’ After a pause she added, ‘Okay, so it’s not that simple. But it’s a good start, right? And I think we would both do well to remember that a little more.’

Kane’s legs leant sideways, into Siena, and her legs instantly uncrossed and went knock-kneed and askew. James realised that Kane had hugged her. He put a hand against the wall to steady himself.

‘Right, okay,’ Siena said, her voice suddenly thick. ‘We’d better get downstairs or your dad will think we’ve run away and he might then eat all the sausages himself.’

James pushed himself away from the wall and ran down two stairs and waited for Kane to barrel out the door before taking a step back up.

‘Dad!’ Kane called, his eyes bright and lit by an inner fire that made James glow from the inside out.

‘Yes, buddy?’ he said, doing his best not to take the kid in his arms and hug him tight.

‘I left my hot dog in my room.’ And Kane ran off as if the wind was at his heels.

Siena came out of his room, her mouth falling into a shocked ‘O’ as she saw him at the top of the stairs. She glanced back into the room behind her.

‘Don’t tell me, Kane was showing off the camphor blanket box. He loves that piece. When he was younger and loved playing hide and seek he could be found there nine times out of ten. He smelled like camphor until he was five.’

She smiled at him, her eyes bright and her cheeks pink. ‘Yep. That was it. Now, where are those hot dogs? I’m starved.’

She slid past him, leaving behind a trail of expensive perfume, heat and bashfulness as she jogged down the stairs.

After the strangest afternoon tea date of her life, eating reheated sausages over the kitchen sink with a guy, a kid and an ageing hippy, Siena said her goodbyes.

‘Is that your bike at the front door?’ Kane asked, as they walked straight past it.

‘Oh, heck, I almost forgot! I bought it for you,’ Siena said. ‘Considering I squished your last one, I thought it was only fair. But you are only allowed to ride it if you tell your dad every time and you always wear your helmet and pads. And wake up every day how we talked about, deal?’

‘Wow! Sure. Thanks,’ Kane gushed, taking it in his hands and spinning the handle bars and testing the bell. ‘I promise!’

‘Say goodbye,’ James told his son.

‘Goodbye, Siena!’ Though Kane was gone to them now, running the bike round and round the lounge.

‘What was that all about?’ he asked, walking her to his car as she hadn’t been able to convince him he had no need to drive her home. ‘Waking up every day?’

She leant against the passenger door of his dark sedan and crossed her arms. ‘Nothing important,’ she said, more than glad he hadn’t come looking for them any earlier than he had.

He sauntered over and leant against the car beside her, mirroring her stance, folding his arms and half-smiling back.

‘So?’ he said.

‘So,’ she repeated, willing herself not to blush beneath the warmth of his gaze, ‘this afternoon has been … educational.’

James watched her but she had no idea what he was thinking. She had barely known him long enough to be able to read his verbal language much less his body language. Though, for some reason, all through the sausages and bread he’d been acting like the cat who’d caught the canary.

It had left her feathers feeling ruffled. That decisiveness, that straight stare, the constant half-smile—she found that side of him utterly sexy. Strong. Masculine. And attractive as hell. And she too hadn’t been able to keep her own smile off her face all afternoon.

Though she thought that the conversation with Kane had had as much to do with her unbelievably high spirits as anything else.

There she had been, in her father’s old room, the place in which the hardest memories of her short life had taken place, and she had been stronger than she had ever thought herself able to be. She’d had to be, for there had been someone else in that room who had needed her to be.

‘You could stay,’ James said, and Siena was torn from her heroic daydreams.

She waited for him to finish his sentence and, in the silent moment that stretched on, she thought perhaps that was all he was planning to say and her heart swelled. Literally. She could feel it filling her chest until she could barely breathe.

But, after a pause, he added, ‘For dinner.’ And her expectant heart deflated back to its regular below average size.

‘Nah,’ she said. ‘I don’t think so. It’s my last night here and I really ought to spend some time with Rick’s family. Especially since I don’t know when I’ll be back again. If I do take the Rome gig it might be a while. A really long while.’

Not in the least put off by her assertion, a flicker of warmth lit his eyes and then he reached out and tucked a stray curl behind her ear. Siena could not stop the ragged sigh from escaping her lips.

‘So why not stay?’ he repeated, his deep voice gentle and personal and completely distracting. And this time Siena was in no doubt there would be no qualifier to his statement.

He was suggesting she
stay,
stay. In Cairns. For him.

Siena felt breathless and full of oxygen all at once. But, before she had the chance to frame a thought, much less a response, James leaned across and kissed her.

In the split second before their lips met, Siena half-expected James’s kiss to be timid and wary. Sheepish, even. So far as she knew, she was the first woman he had kissed since meeting his wife several years before.

But when their lips at long last touched, his were warm, determined and sure. He knew exactly what he was doing. And Siena ended up the one who felt nothing but shaky.

Her body wilted against the hot car.

Her eyes drifted closed.

Pretty soon she felt more than just shaky. Pretty soon, as his kiss deepened, as she realised that there was nothing in the least bit carefree and unprompted about it, she felt tender, fluttery, adored and cherished and as though a fire had been lit beneath her toes.

She felt more alive and more scared than ever before. She felt as if she had stepped into a lift shaft to find the lift was in fact not there. She was in free fall, but she knew that James would be there to catch her in the end with his strong, creative hands.

Though neither of them moved from their position side by side, their arms crossed, a foot between her warm melting body and his, Siena had never felt more intimate with a man.

James was communicating so much tenderness and hope and effortless sensuality to her that every last concern she had about him, about home, about family, about love, melted away. She wished with all her might that those creative hands were on her. Touching her. Teaching her. Holding her.

Nothing mattered in that moment but James. James’s lips. James’s warmth. James’s strength compared with her own mounting weakness. James’s desire for her to stay—despite her inexperienced heart and despite what she had thought had been an all-consuming love for his son.

As though he had heard the thought echoing in her cotton wool filled mind, James pulled away.

Siena leant towards him, continuing the kiss as long as possible.

She sighed in disappointment as his lips finally left hers. Her unusually heavy eyes flickered open, expecting to see some semblance of guilt or surprise in James’s eyes.

But he was simply smiling. Really smiling. His grey-blue
eyes were jewel-bright. His mouth kicked open to show a set of neat white teeth which would do just fine in any toothpaste commercial. And the crease in his right cheek that had threatened to show itself again and again now came out in full force. It was as though he finally had something private and wonderful in his life worth smiling about.

Siena could do nothing but stare. This was one beautiful man. A man with a heartbreakingly handsome face, with bottomless soulful eyes, with a huge capacity to give, who filled out a pair of old jeans just right, who liked her. There was absolutely no doubting it now. He really, really liked her.

And silly, selfish her; she had gone and done exactly the opposite of what she had promised herself. When all the while she had been thinking of him, and while she hadn’t been paying attention to her own feelings, she had gone and fallen slap bang in love with the guy.

The thought landed with a thud at the base of her skull, and where before she had felt on top of the world, she suddenly felt numb from head to toe.

‘Dare I ask what is going on behind those stormy eyes of yours?’ he asked, his gorgeous smile still so devastatingly in place.

He uncrossed his arms to reach out and run his knuckles along her cheek. Her skin heated under his touch, leaving a trail of fire across her face.

‘I’m thinking you ought to call me a cab,’ she said, making sure there was no inflection at the end of her sentence. No question. She had to go. And fast.

A cab would be quicker than Rufus, and less likely to ask pertinent questions.

‘You’re a cab,’ he said, not letting her off the hook that easily.

A strange movement caught her attention out of the corner of her eye. Siena looked up at the first floor to find the heavy white curtains in her old bedroom flapping back and forth.

They had an audience.

Oh, great. How long had Kane been watching them? It had felt so good to be able to help someone who reminded her of herself as a kid stay on the right track. The very last thing she wanted was to be the one to send Kane into confusion, spiralling him further off course.

‘Siena, don’t do this. Don’t run—’ James began.

Siena cut him off before he said anything either of them would regret.

‘James. I
really
think you ought to call a cab.’ She gestured towards the window and, like a moth to a flame, his eyes sought out his son, who now had his nose and palms pressed against the window.

James’s brow furrowed, his smile waned and his jaw set hard and tight as he reconciled how much he wanted her with the fact that Kane may have seen it all.

‘Right,’ he said, his voice barely above a whisper. ‘I can drop you home.’

‘Stay here. I’ll be fine. But Kane needs you.’

And I don’t. I love you, but I don’t
need
anybody!

James nodded once. ‘That he does.’

Siena reached into her handbag for her mobile phone and she called directory assistance for the number of a cab company. And this time James didn’t try to stop her.

She tried a beaming smile on for size. But even she knew it didn’t quite fit. Because she knew deep down that he loved Kane so much that he
would
let her go. There was too much to consider, and with James at her side, looking so stunning
and smelling so good she just couldn’t consider anything bar kissing him again.

As though the fates were sending her a sign, the cab arrived in record time to spirit her away, and James leant in the passenger seat window to wish her goodbye.

‘I’ll call you later,’ he said.

I might not answer,
she thought.

‘Tell Kane I hope he’s feeling better. And that he’d better stick to the footpath on that new bike of his.’

She turned to the cabbie and gave Rick’s address.

‘Goodbye, James,’ she said as the cab pulled away from the kerb.

This time as she drove away she kept her eyes dead ahead.

A
FTER
taking a long cool early shower, during which she had thought herself in circles until she felt more confused than ever, Siena changed into her red velvet pyjamas and went downstairs to find Rick alone in his den, drinking a brandy and reading that morning’s sports section.

‘So why aren’t you out with your young man?’ he asked, not looking up.

‘He’s not my young man,’ Siena said, realising she had perhaps been a bit too vehement when Rick looked at her in disbelief.

She regretted sitting down when he folded his paper. ‘And why not?’

‘Because I never have young men in my life. Not in the way that you mean. I.I can’t.’ ‘Why can’t you?’

‘Because until recently I thought that relationship-wise I was little more use to any man than rat poison. And, though I’m not so sure that that’s the case any more, I’m still feeling pretty raw.’

She stared at her fingernails, cleaning out an imaginary speck of dirt.

‘I had a conversation with an eight-year-old this afternoon that made me realise how ridiculous it was that I have always blamed myself that Dad died that day.’

‘You
what?’
Rick practically exploded on the spot, his newspaper rustling as it half fell to the floor in great flapping black and white sheets.

She glared at Rick, her thoughts, and memories, and emotions on high alert, all akimbo and mixed up and backwards since James had gone and kissed her and liked her and made her fall in love with him.

‘Come on, Rick. The day he died, the day I played truant from school and came home early and found him on his bed, so cold and so still. You blustered in and yelled—and I quote–
“Now look what you have done”.
But it wasn’t my fault, Rick,’ she said, looking her big burly brother dead in the eye. ‘It’s taken a lot for me to realise that. But that won’t make a lick of difference to my life unless I know that you realise it too.’

Rick opened his mouth to deny it. Siena let him take his time to gather himself. It had been some accusation after all. But then something inside him seemed to extinguish, leaving him looking every one of the twelve years older than her that he was.

‘He was sixty-five,’ Rick said. ‘He’d had heart problems all his life. And I am an ass if I ever made you feel that way.’

Siena could do nothing but stare at her big brother as the words she had longed to hear all her life spilled from his lips.

But, rather than wanting to throw them back in his face with a great self-satisfied, I told you so, she just let them wind around her like a long coiling rope drawing her closer to the brother who, until that moment, she had always looked upon as an unfeeling tyrant.

‘Dad died because he ate salami like it was going out of
fashion,’ he said, his voice raw and rough. ‘He worked himself far too hard and never did a day’s exercise in his life. I am truly sorry if I ever made you think any different.’

He sat back and ran a hand over his eyes.

‘You were such a handful as a kid, Siena. You were so smart. So full of life. Hell, you still are. Yet you were throwing all that talent away on late nights with your friends and parties. And it pains me deep down that that’s what you are still doing with your life.’

Her eyes burned and she rubbed at them frantically. Now was not the time to fall apart. This was too important. ‘But I was only ever trying to get Dad to pay attention,’ she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

And you,
she thought.
I just wanted you to see me. To really see me, not just be angry with me. Not be disappointed …

‘I know,’ Rick said, lifting his face to look her in the eye. ‘I know. And I knew it then too. But you were his light. You were his everything.’

She knew it. Deep down she knew, though it had taken some convincing. But she also needed to know what she was to Rick too. Theirs had been the defining relationship of her childhood. This wasn’t really ever about her father; it was about the father figure sitting before her.

‘So why did
you
always tell me off if I wore mismatched socks, when he never once even lifted his voice if I came home an hour after curfew with smudged lipstick?’

‘We all have our own ways of loving,
Piccolo.
Mine is more forward. Verbose. Dad’s was to sit back and watch with wonder as his little girl grew into such a personality. He loved your energy and your spirit and chastised me daily for trying to clip your wings.’

‘He did?’
That
she had never known.

‘You have to remember I was twelve when you were born,
Piccolo.
Twelve when my mother died. Twelve when
you
became the apple of my hero’s eye. You, who stayed out after curfew, who never tried in school, who pierced her belly at age fourteen and had a fake ID. And I was not much older than you are now when Dad died. Imagine yourself now, in the prime of your life, suddenly being lumbered with a teenager. When you become a parent, Siena, your own needs and wishes must come second.’

And, just like that, all of Siena’s indignation melted away. It flowed from her mind and off her shoulders and out the tips of her fingers, leaving her feeling as if she had run a marathon.

She thought again of her conversation with Kane on James’s bed, that small face looking up at her as though she had all knowledge of heaven and earth. And looking back at him all she’d wanted to do was protect him, keep him safe, do all she could to see that he was never hurt.

Be happy,
she’d insisted to Kane.
Don’t ride your bike without your helmet.

That was all Rick had ever done for her. He’d spent his own young adulthood trying only to protect her. She swallowed, the taste of the words
I’m sorry too
burning hot on her tongue.

‘Rick, I—’

‘It’s okay,’ he said, pulling his hulking form from his chair. ‘I know.’

As he passed, Rick kissed the top of her head, then left her alone, and she felt as if she had only just met him for the first time.

And as such she realised how much catching up she had to do and with so little time in which to do it.

After Kane had fallen asleep James sat slumped down into a sofa in the unlit lounge room. It was still sweltering hot and he could smell the scent of a coming storm on the air.

‘I was thinking of having a quick cup of tea before I head off,’ Matt said. ‘Would you like one? Hot? Iced?’

James nodded. ‘Whatever you’re having, thanks, mate.’

Hot? Cold? It didn’t really matter. It was all an excuse to get Matt to stay. He needed to talk. And somehow he knew that talking to his blog simply wouldn’t cut it this time.

Over the last months his blog had been helpful in getting his feelings off his chest, but now he needed someone to talk back. He needed answers.

‘You’ve got a whole new furrow in your brow that I haven’t seen before and for a guy with as many furrows as you that’s saying something,’ Matt said once he had settled.

James grimaced. ‘Furrows are distinguished, right?’

‘Unfortunately the best
I
could hope for would be distinguished; on you they’re just handsome.’

‘You think?’ James asked, the beginnings of a smile taking the tension from his forehead.

‘Don’t get me wrong, buddy. I wouldn’t have a clue. I’m only repeating what I hear around the traps.’

‘You been talking to Mandy again?’

Matt took a sip of his tea, but James saw the pink come and go in his friend’s cheeks. ‘Her, and others. Now, back to the subject at hand. I’m thinking this new furrow is all about the girl.’

‘You’d be thinking right,’ James said.

‘Siena’s into you, mate. That much is as obvious as the furrows on your handsome brow. Heck, even Mandy couldn’t wait five minutes after you left the school today before ringing me to chastise me for not giving her the whole picture about her.’

He was
sure
Matt was on the money there. The way she’d watched him when she’d thought he wasn’t looking. The way she’d found an excuse to spend time with him had been almost as feeble as the one he had found to spend time with her.

And then there was the way she had responded to his kiss. Her whole body had flickered to life, melting into him, her amazing energy wrapping itself about him like an electrical coil.

‘I kissed her,’ James admitted.

‘Whoa.’

‘I think Kane may have seen it.’ ‘Oh, boy.’

James leant forward, sinking his chin into his left palm, and ran hard fingers across his mouth. ‘And I asked her to stay.’

‘Man.’ Matt breathed slowly out. ‘I knew that you two were sparky together, but do you think you might be rushing this a little, buddy?’

‘I don’t have a choice. She came to town for a job interview. Her boss offered her a job in Rome. And tomorrow afternoon she has to give him her decision before flying home to Melbourne. I don’t have the luxury of dating, wooing, taking my time.’

‘She seems a right royal cracker of a girl, but are you sure she’s as far along on this thing as you are?’

‘I overheard her telling Kane that I am the greatest man she has ever known.’

Matt’s expression showed he wasn’t nearly as convinced by that statement as James had been.

‘She didn’t have to say that. She could have said any number of things; she could have said I was a cool dad or a nice guy, or cute as a button—she didn’t have to use those exact words.’

‘Is that all the evidence you have?’

‘Matt, she makes me smile,’ James said, letting it all out in a gush of words. ‘She makes me
want
to smile just by being with her. Heck, she makes me smile even when I
don’t
want to. Constantly. Every moment she is with me, nervous energy spilling from her until I too can’t stop fidgeting, and every moment she isn’t as I count down the moments until I can be with her again. Siena isn’t just a beautiful woman who takes my breath away. She’s my ray of hope.’

‘Well, then.’ Matt said, thinking on it very seriously.

‘Well, then?’ James repeated, desperate for his friend’s take on the whole situation.

‘Well, then, I don’t think you need for me to tell you what to do. You seem pretty hell-bent on doing it anyway.’

James’s shoulders tensed as he broached the one great stumbling block as he saw it. Distance didn’t frighten him, nor her skittishness, nearly as much as how his son would take the news.

‘What about Kane?’

‘What about Kane?’ Matt repeated, his eyes narrowing.

‘Shouldn’t he have some sort of say in all this?’

‘In who gets invited to his birthday parties? Sure. In who gets to play on his trampoline? No doubt. But in who you love? Because I think you are trying to tell me that you love this woman.’

He glanced at James, who gave him one sure—certain—nod.

‘Nope. Uh-uh. Kane doesn’t have a say there. Not even you can have much of a say in that one, buddy. And, if you’re looking for my take on all this, Kane could do with having such a cracker of a girl in his life nearly as much as you could.’

Matt tapped James on the knee, then gathered their empty iced tea glasses and headed into the kitchen, leaving James alone with his thoughts.

And the one thought that rose above all others was that when he had kissed Siena, she had kissed him right back.

It had moved him so much he had forgotten himself completely in her warm giving lips. He had forgotten all responsibilities bar kissing her until the end of time. And, when he had looked up and seen Kane at the window, he knew that his responsibilities had been blurred behind fear long enough.

Meeting Siena, knowing Siena, and, yes, loving Siena had only shone a bright big ray of North Queensland sunlight on what his responsibilities were.

To be happy.

For his son to be happy, well-adjusted, ready to be out in the world, he had to be happy first.

And to be happy he needed Siena.

He didn’t want her to look him up in six months’ time
if
she came back to visit her family. Contemplating six months between seeing her face, touching her hand, kissing her … His heart felt as if it was being ripped from his chest.

Talking it through with Matt, or writing down the multitude of conflicting feelings into his blog, wouldn’t solve the problem. He knew that now.

Confronting the problem head-on would be the only way through.

‘Matt, sorry to keep you so long again today. But I have a big favour to ask.’

Siena sat cross-legged on her bed reading her emails when she heard a knock at the front door.

Rick, Tina and the kids had gone out for their regular Friday night pasta at Tina’s parents’ place and Siena hadn’t
been kidding when she’d begged off with a headache. So she sat still and waited for the door-knocker to leave.

But, a few moments later, Siena heard it again. And this time she realised it wasn’t a knock at the front door; it was a rap of pebbles against her bedroom window.

She hitched her pyjama bottoms higher and moved to the window, peering out to the moonlit suburban front garden to find James, standing in the middle of the yard with arms outstretched and a bunch of flowers in his hand with Rick’s big stupid Triton fountain shooting water into the air behind him.

Her head hurt from thinking all afternoon, and she knew that she had a big night of thinking ahead of her still. Surely the last thing she needed was for James to make some great romantic gesture to cloud things.

But she could hardly shoo him away. He was out there with flowers, for goodness’ sake!

Feeling like a character in a movie, she pulled open the window and yelled out in a stage whisper. ‘Stop throwing things or you’ll break the glass! Stay right there. I’m coming down.’

She ran from her room, down the stairs two at a time and out on to the front lawn, the cool grass squishing beneath her feet. She only realised she was in her pyjamas when James’s mouth dropped open.

‘Jeez Louise.’ He whistled, his eyes raking in the skimpy expanse of crushed red velvet and the crescent of exposed skin above the elastic of her trousers.

Doing her best to ignore the effect such a comment had on her libido, she stormed over to him, grabbed him by the bouquet-free hand and dragged him into the shadows of an overhanging willow tree at the side of the house.