Miracle In March (10 page)

So many questions. And no answers. But tingles, yes, tingles. It had felt so good to feel his hand on her face again, his arms wrapped warmly around her. She didn't know what she was going to say in her reply to Jen yet, but she'd figure it out. Sometime. If only the answers would fall into her lap. Would James leave on Monday and that would be the last of it? Would she ever see him again? Did she
want
to see him again?

Yes.

Emma grabbed her bag and walked out the door with her head held high. There was no need to feel nervous, James had forgiven her. She walked along the pathway past the playground and the cabins, smiling at people as she went by. There was a beach umbrella on the sand like before — Lizzie on her grand adventure. She wondered if James would tell her the truth. She wouldn't mind, and hoped she would feel differently about her once she understood. But it felt strange to know that someone else knew what had happened. Just when she'd been ready to say goodbye to her past for good, it was now returning to her in full force. Life had a funny way of surprising people.

Emma walked past cabin number three and caught a glimpse of James' mum and dad through the open door. They cast a wary glance then looked away. Great. They hated her. And James had obviously not told them the reason she'd left him. She hurried along and stepped onto the porch of cabin number one. Jackson's Sound Machine greeted her with a bouncy sound, then he pocketed it and tossed his pink owl in the air repeatedly.

James approached the doorway. ‘Come on in,' he said with a small smile. It probably felt foreign to him.

‘Thanks.' She smiled back and held up the food offering. ‘Risotto, hope that's okay.'

‘Sounds good.' He accepted the bag and placed the containers on the table.

‘I brought strawberries for Jackson, thought he might like some.'

‘He'd love them, thanks.'

Their casual, pleasant conversation was a stark contrast to yesterday's heated and emotional one.

‘Does he want some risotto too?'

‘Oh, um…does it have any cheese in it?'

‘Yes, parmesan.'

‘Oh, not to worry, he'll just have his usual. Jackson's on a dairy-free diet at the moment, and gluten-free.'

‘Oh right. Allergies?' she asked.

‘Not exactly. It's a common diet used for autism, so we're giving it a go. Early days yet, but so far so good.'

Emma recalled hearing something about it in the past with some of the kids she'd taught. ‘Something about the food affecting their brain?'

‘Yep, the proteins. They can bind to the opioid receptors in the brain and mimic some of the symptoms of being on drugs like morphine.'

Ah, morphine. She remembered that well. Although it had been wonderful, she hoped she'd never need it again in her life. ‘Sounds like you've done a lot of research.'

‘I have. A lot of late nights.' He nodded, then spread some peanut butter on what she presumed to be gluten-free bread. ‘Here, mate. Eat up.' He placed the plate on the table and Jackson came over and grabbed one of the triangles. ‘I'll just heat up the risotto.' He placed it in the microwave and they waited the incredibly long time for it to beep. James pressed open the door when it showed two seconds to go. She held back a laugh. She
always
did that.

Soon they were seated at the table like old times, side by side, eating food.

‘So, what do you do now?' she asked, then hoped it didn't sound rude. He raised a son on his own, that's what. ‘I mean, are you a full-time dad?'

He took a sip of juice then answered, ‘I stayed in law for a while, but it got too hard with Jackson, so I had to get creative. I produced a self-study program for up and coming lawyers to teach them what I'd learned in regards to setting up a practice; systems, admin, marketing, all that. It went better than I expected.'

‘Wow, that's great, James. And you did all that from home while looking after Jackson?'

He nodded. ‘I've learned to switch my attention from one thing to another quite quickly.'

‘Oh yes, I remember having to do that with teaching, a ton of kids asking you things all at once, I got good at multitasking.' Was she comparing teaching to parenting? She wished she hadn't now. James obviously had a lot more to handle than she had, and for him it was 24/7.

James' head lowered, then he glanced up at her. ‘I'm sorry, Emma, about…you know. I still feel bad, I can't begin to know what you went through.'

‘It's okay.' Her heart softened at his kind words. ‘Thanks for understanding.' She wanted to touch his hand, show her appreciation but didn't want to overstep the mark.

Jackson picked up a DVD and held it up, making an urgent sound to his father. ‘You know how to do it, mate. Put it in the DVD player.' He pointed, then looked at Emma. ‘I'm trying to teach him some independence.' She nodded. Jackson opened the DVD case and held it out to the player. ‘That's it, press open.'

He tapped at the device then managed to find the open button, squealing when it opened. He placed it in and with an emphatic push, the disc disappeared inside. The Wiggles appeared on screen and Emma smiled. ‘What did parents do before these DVDs, huh?'

‘I have no idea.' He smiled and gestured outside. ‘Shall we sit out on the porch?'

They got up and moved outside, the breeze wafting over from the ocean, Wiggles music their lunchtime soundtrack.

She wanted to know something, but didn't know how to ask.
Might as well just blurt it out.
‘So, um, is Jackson's mother around?'

James rubbed his jaw. ‘Ah, no. To put it bluntly. She's never met him. I mean, obviously she did, but only briefly and then the nurses took him away.'

Whoa.

‘She didn't want him. But I did. Simple as that.'

‘Gosh, James, I'm so sorry.'

‘It's okay, it's better to have one parent who's committed than two if one of them isn't into it.' He shrugged.

Emma was amazed. He'd given up his career to raise a child. And one with special needs at that, though he obviously hadn't known it at the time. She couldn't imagine Jackson's mother carrying a child to term and not wanting it. She'd kill for that chance.

* * *

James didn't want to tell Emma the full story, at least not right now. It could upset her, and it sure as hell upset him every time he thought about how he'd almost lost his son. He glanced through the window at Jackson, standing on tiptoes and moving along to the music on the DVD with a small smile on his face. Although he hadn't ever imagined his life would turn out like this, now he couldn't imagine it being any other way.

James returned his attention to Emma as she ate, her lips sliding over the silver spoon as she elegantly devoured the risotto. He never thought he'd be sitting here with her like this, he always thought his future would involve relaxing lunches with the mother of his child. But Stacey wasn't the woman for him. Never had been. Except for that one night when for a few hours the pain of losing Emma had been diluted and overpowered by the intense rush of lust and passion…

‘C'mon, man, she's gone. You've given it a few weeks, it's time to move on.'

Gary was right. If she'd wanted to change her mind she would have done it by now.

‘Two nights in the city, you can crash at my place. A party is just what you need.'

‘I'm not exactly in the partying mood, but okay. I'll stay.'

‘Once the crowd arrives you will be. Just like old times!'

James sighed. Those old times felt so long ago, and to be honest, he didn't know if he wanted anything resembling those days again. He'd grown up. He wanted more. But Gary was a permanent twenty-one-year-old in a thirty-something's body.

‘I'll finish up at work and then I'll head up. See you in a few hours.'

He'd arrived to Gary's inner city apartment with a bag of spare clothes, the most basic of toiletries, and a heavy heart that took all his effort to heave it up to the fifth floor. Dinner and drinks tonight, a harbour cruise tomorrow, and then Gary's famous first-week-of-December Christmas party that had become an institution among his law friends.

By the time Saturday night had rolled around, James had loosened up. It had been good to get away, if only for a couple of days, to give him a fresh perspective. And God knows he'd been burying himself in work since she'd left so he didn't have to bury himself in the hurt. But if he kept going at this rate he'd burn out like a wildfire with no more ground to cover.

After reminiscing with old friends, a few others arrived at Gary's apartment to join the party. A colleague of Gary's had brought a mate and his girlfriend who was a singer and actress. And the girlfriend had brought a friend.

Stacey.

Also a singer and actress, she had just moved to Sydney to perform a major role in a musical that was starting in January.

‘And you are?' she'd asked, when he'd shaken her hand after Gary's colleague introduced her and his girlfriend. Her green eyes were like emeralds, enticing him with a hypnotic sparkle. He wondered if they were coloured contact lenses, they were so bright.

‘James.' He offered a brief smile, not the slightest bit interested in flirting.

‘I knew a James once,' she said. ‘He wasn't the nicest guy, but maybe you'll change my opinion of the name after tonight.' She winked, and James had resisted rolling his eyes. Great. A woman on the prowl. Just what ne needed, another potential heartbreak.

But her charm and wit had gradually chipped away at his icy heart, as had the alcohol he'd been drinking, and she became interesting. And sexy. With a great dancer's physique from years of ballet, she'd opted for musical theatre instead of dance, and her enthusiasm for her upcoming foray into show business was alluring.

When half the partygoers had left, Gary promised he'd shout a round of drinks at the bar on the corner of his street, which had been the hub of many coming-of-age milestones during his university days. Karaoke dares, the-world-is-my-oyster business discussions, and the odd drunken kiss with random strangers.

James, Stacey, Gary, along with his colleague and girlfriend took a seat at a low round table surrounded by lazy armchairs and a bench against the wall. Their discussions ranged from who made the best cocktails through to the potential for opening up a bar of their own one day to enjoy in their retirement. Stacey and her friend Belinda talked about their theatre training and experiences, and even did a little duet, while a small crowd had formed around them. Her voice was delicious. James found himself increasingly attracted to her beauty and talent and drive. He had that same drive for his career and life in general, and he liked that she ‘got him' and he ‘got her'.

‘Anyone else feel slightly old?' Gary asked, looking around at all the younger people who were just getting their Saturday night started, while the ones with families were heading home.

‘Speak for yourself!' Stacey said with a laugh. ‘Look at them, most of the crowd have their eyes glued to their new phones.'

James laughed too. ‘They're probably posting on Facebook about how much fun they're having socialising.'

‘I don't even have Facebook yet, is it really that great?' asked Gary.

James hadn't gotten into it either. Didn't have the time or inclination.

‘Or they might be texting their friends instead of walking around looking for them.' she said.

‘Okay, now I do feel a bit old.'

‘Oh, no, we can't have you feeling old!' Stacey sidled up next to James. ‘Give me your number.'

He was going to ask what for but she'd already slipped her hand into his pocket and grabbed his phone, then added herself as a contact, and retrieved his number too.

She tapped away at her phone and James' mobile beeped.

You don't look a day over twenty-five ;)

He glanced up from the screen and into her emerald eyes, a sneaky smile creeping up one corner of his mouth. He almost replied in the regular, spoken way then stopped himself and looked back at his phone.

Neither do you.

Her reply:

Maybe I'm not.

His reply:

Age is all in the mind anyway.

Her reply:

I know what's in my mind, and it's got nothing to do with age.

James gulped.

What has it got to do with?

He stole a glance at her as she thought up a response, her dark hair falling over one shoulder like a casual, friendly hand, her cheeks an earthy pink. An automatic hint of desire wafted through his body and it both annoyed and exhilarated him.

It's got everything to do with you.

He stared at the words for a few seconds, scared that if he looked up at her he'd launch himself at her with a ferocious kiss. Damn, this mixture of heartbreak, alcohol, and hormones wasn't doing his self-control much good.

‘You two are as bad as everyone else,' said Gary, and not knowing how to respond to her text message James distracted himself with a completely opposite topic of conversation with Gary's colleague, which helped settle his urge back to the pit of where it belonged.

Many flirtatious glances and half-smiles followed as the group chatted and laughed and drank, and by the time most were ready to head home, James was only warming up. He'd already joined Stacey in a (pathetic, on his part) duet of some song he'd forgotten as soon as they'd finished, and she seemed just as keen to keep the party going as he did. Gary had been right, this night was just what he needed.

‘I'm gonna get another drink,' James said to Gary, patting him on the back. ‘I'll get a cab later. Anyone else for another?' He glanced around, their faces slightly blurry under the dim light of the bar and his inability to stay focused.