Shooting Butterflies (40 page)

Read Shooting Butterflies Online

Authors: T.M. Clark

BOOK: Shooting Butterflies
12.64Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

His family.

Moeketsi nodded to him, as if he was changing over shifts, now that they were home, and he waved at him, glad that they had him and his game guards with them to help watch over his family day and night.

He saw Tara look behind him, down the farm road, and he checked in the mirror of his truck. His mother's car drove in behind him, and he remembered that despite the calm that had existed for a week at their home, his mother was about to blow a hole in it the size of the
groot gat
in Kimberly.

He scrambled to get out the truck and greet Tara, to be by her side before the hurricane from hell descended on them.

‘Hello, Isabeth,' Wayne said as she walked up to them. ‘You remember Tara, and this is my son, Josha.'

Isabeth was silent.

‘Hello,' Tara said and she held out her hand to shake his mother's hand. Despite everything, Tara was not one to hold grudges or to be a snob, and she wasn't going to be rude.

‘Yes, I remember,' Isabeth said, but she ignored Tara's hand.

Tara looked at Wayne, who just rolled his eyes. And she smiled at him, threading her fingers in his as they watched Isabeth turn her eyes to Josha.

Josha stared at her. He had been told about his biological grandmother, and Tara had explained to him that she was arriving, and prepped him for that arrival, but it was clear he had decided that he was not going to be the one who was nice to her, afterall this was the woman who had wanted him dead.

‘I guess you are your father's son, you do look a bit like him,' she said.

‘Isabeth,' Wayne cautioned in a voice cold like stone. ‘You behave here, or you are out. I thought I made myself clear on the phone. There is no place for you here if you are rude, insulting or in anyway damaging to
my
family.'

‘Oh Wayne, I thought you were just being unkind and mean to me as always,' Isabeth said.

‘No. I laid it down straight. Now perhaps you want to try that again. Hello, Isabeth, remember Tara, and this is my son, Josha,' Wayne said, his voice hard as steel.

Tara had never heard him use that tone. They had talked at length about his mother's betrayal, about how she had used Wayne as a weapon against his father, and insisted Tara shouldn't be allowed to have their baby, about her betrayal of her own son, her lie to him, telling him that she knew that Tara had had an abortion. They had come to the conclusion that Isabeth had projected all her own guilt from her teenage abortion onto Tara and that she had sent her own son to boarding school purposely to destroy the relationship between him and his father. They had spoken about her consistently manipulative behaviour. And about the likelihood that her unreasonable behaviour towards Tara would continue, unless Wayne actively stood up to her and told her that her behaviour was unacceptable. He now needed to set some barriers, and put rules in place to ensure she didn't try and railroad their family in the present as she had in the past. But Tara hadn't expected the open animosity.

Isabeth put her hand out and shook Tara's hand. Then she turned to Josha. ‘You are almost as tall as your father,' she said and she stuck out her hand to him.

Josha shook hers. But Tara noticed that her son looked uncomfortable. Unsure of the woman. His experience with grannies was Mauve and Maggie, both of whom were fun and compassionate and warm people. Even Aunty Marie-Ann had softened as she got older, and she spoilt Josha rotten. After levelling with the teenage Tara about being a teenage mum herself, and being the one to give Tara a place of refuge while she and Gabe took their time in relocating to Cape Town, Aunty Marie-Ann's and Tara's own relationship was now one of friendship, no longer any animosity between them.

But Isabeth was like a cold reptile.

Tara wondered how Wayne had turned out so great after having lived for so long with this woman while he was growing up.

Isabeth turned to Gabe, and Tara was astonished as she witnessed Isabeth's whole attitude change towards an attractive man. She might be getting on in years, but she was still predatory.

‘I'm Isabeth,' she said and she put her hand out for Gabe to shake.

‘Gabe,' he said, but he looked over at Wayne for help as she didn't let his hand go afterwards.

‘And this is Lucretia, Tara's companion,' Wayne introduced her to Lucretia, who everyone could see bristled with contempt at the woman. ‘Mother, your timing was impeccable as always. Nomusa will help you with your bags, in your house. Your driveway is past the shed. You won't miss it. Ella already filled your fridge and cupboards with necessary groceries, so you should be self-sufficient.'

She smiled, and then began to turn away.

‘If you would like to join us for dinner at seven o'clock, you are most welcome,' Tara said.

‘That would be nice, thank you,' Isabeth said, but the warmth didn't reach her eyes then she turned away again to move into her new home.

Josha walked away talking to Gabe, the two of them heading for the barn together, Josha calling out for Moeketsi. Wayne's young dogs were bounding around him. Happy to have him home.

Home.

Such a small word that in a few days had come to mean so much to her, and to Josha.

Tara rounded on Wayne the moment everyone was out of earshot. ‘That was mean, dressing her down in front of us!'

‘That was necessary. Tara, I don't know where you find it in your heart to be civil to her after what she put you through, but I have told you about my mother and my relationship with her. Yes, she's family, but my father was the one who taught me that you look after family. My mother is difficult, and I told you already, her lies hurt us, and I can't forgive her for that,' Wayne said. ‘If I had allowed her to be rude to you and Josha now, it would have continued forever. I know my mother. She would try and walk all over you. But if she knows that she can't cross me on this issue, she will toe the line and behave. You don't need more stress while you are here, and my mother is the queen of creating stress.'

Tara nodded, giving Wayne the benefit of the doubt, and in fact she was too excited to have him home after his trip away to argue.

‘You should forgive her, Wayne, because that unhealthy grudge hurts you more than her. She's obviously self-centred and oblivious to your feelings, so why waste energy on them? She isn't going to change, ever. People don't change as they get older, they get more set in their ways. You have taken a big step in the right direction with her, you have set down boundaries. Drawn the battleline in the sand, as you might say. She knows now where she stands, but also where she needs to tread more carefully,' Tara said.

‘Is there a price to pay for your professional analysis?' he asked, but he was grinning, lightening the heavy mood as he teased her.

‘A kiss,' she answered.

He gathered her to him, bent his head to her and kissed her. Slowly at first, he tested her lips with his, and then again, reacquainting himself with her. He breathed in her smell, so unique. Different from the girl he loved, the woman he was kissing now smelled of an exotic fragrance, and he inhaled it, and loved her even more.

‘I think I need a lie down,' she said a little breathlessly a moment later. ‘Come, Wayne, we can see everyone at dinner.' Her hand in his, she led him upstairs. She didn't stop at her room, but continued to his. Wayne hesitated at the door. But then she opened it and said, ‘Surprise!'

She had moved her suitcase into the room, and left a few of her things on his dressing table, making sure that it looked more like a room that they shared than a masculine single man's room. She had moved in a lighter colour rug to the end of the bed, and she had piled the pillows from her guestroom on his bed.

Wayne could hardly breathe.

‘Are you sure, Tara? This is a big step, this is a big statement to make to Josha,' Wayne said hesitantly.

‘I'm sure. We could have just over a week left together, or we could be starting something that I want to last forever. I've never been surer of anything in my life, and I want you to hurry up in that shower. I have about another hour before I'm going to need more meds, and I want to make the most of this time we have together.'

Wayne stared at her.

‘Are you one hundred percent on this, Tara? I can't go back to being just friends, to a platonic friendship like you have with Gabe. Once we cross over this line, I know I'm not going to ever want to go back. I don't think I'm strong enough to go back again.'

‘I'm sure. I planned this all, remember, while you were gone for two days. I moved my things in, I have been thinking of nothing else for forty-eight hours. Now hurry,' she said, ‘you are wasting precious time!'

Wayne dashed into the shower in the ensuite, and couldn't clean up fast enough. When he got out, he rubbed his body quickly with a towel before brushing his teeth, and just before he stepped into the bedroom, he paused. He had waited so many years to find her again. He didn't want to blow it all on a quick afternoon liaison in bed, he wanted more. He wanted her to be his everything, his friend, his wife, his lover and the mother of his children.

He wrapped the towel around his hips and slowly he opened the door. He walked to where she waited in the bed, with the sheet pulled up to her neck.

‘Tara,' Wayne said. ‘Before this, before we … I wanted to ask you something. You don't need to answer right now but I want you to know. In fact, don't answer now because I never want it thrown back at me that I asked you under duress, and that you couldn't say no.'

Tara sat up, and he noticed a see-through negligee hiding under a longer dressing gown belted loosely around her waist before disappearing under the sheet.

He took a gulp of air.

‘What?' she asked.

He crossed to his walk-in cupboard, and dug in the pocket of his jacket with a zip pocket that he had worn in Cape Town. He crossed back to the bed and knelt next to her.

‘Marry me, Tara. Wear a white dress and tell everyone that you want to spend the rest of your life with me. Have more babies with me, or not, I don't care, we have Josha and he's just beautiful. Wear my ring, and tell the world that we beat the odds, that we found each other, and spend the rest of your life with me, and I promise every day to try my best to make you happy. To protect you, to be your friend and your lover.'

‘Yes,' she said, ‘I will.'

‘You can't answer now. I'm not holding you to that answer. You have too many other things going on. Your tumour—'

‘Nothing is going to change my mind. But if you want to, we can ice it, and I can answer again at another time.'

‘Think about it, Tara, think really hard. I don't believe in divorce. I believe in working things out, and adapting as we need to. There is no out, once my ring is on your finger we are married and as far as I'm concerned, you are stuck with me for eternity.'

She dragged the sheet back and moved so that she was sitting on the edge of the bed. Her nightgown still covered most of her body.
She wrapped her legs around him as he knelt before her. Putting her arms around his neck, she put her forehead to his.

‘Eternity with you is what I wanted when I was fifteen, and at twenty-nine, it is still what I want, Wayne. I love you, now and forever,' she said.

‘Now and forever,' he murmured against her lips, as he lifted her up and then lightly put her back on the bed.

Tara's head swam with lightness in the best way, Wayne was kissing her, and sensations she thought long forgotten rushed upwards, setting her body on fire.

He ran his finger along her collarbone and downwards, and she could feel the blood rush to where he touched, a tingle that rippled a millisecond behind. She smiled.

‘What?' he said. ‘I can feel you smiling.'

‘You, I so want you,' she said.

He smiled and followed the path that his finger had just taken with his lips.

Tara threw her head back and groaned, the sensation was so strong.

He nibbled at the top of the dressing gown where it gaped and didn't cover the swell of her breasts.

‘Can I take this off?' he asked her as he reached for the gown's belt.

She nodded as she stood up. He stood up too and she pressed herself up close to him. He got the knot loose, and eased the silky fabric off her shoulders, and it dropped freely to the floor.

She stood in front of him in the see-through lacy negligee he had glimpsed before.

‘Wow, Tara,' he said and he reached for the hemline that barely covered her bottom, seeing she hadn't bothered with panties. The negligee was pulled up and off in one clean motion.

For a moment he stared at her. She was totally naked.

‘You are so beautiful,' he murmured as he came back to her mouth. Framing her face with both his hands, he lifted her chin slightly to kiss her.

Breathless, she grabbed for his towel and pulled the tucked-in end out. The towel loosened but didn't unravel.

‘Impatient, are we?' he said, and he lifted her up and put her onto the bed, before climbing on beside her. Quickly he lowered his head to her breasts, and, taking one nipple into his mouth, he rolled the other one in his strong fingers. Slowly he moved his body, nudging her leg with his until he could lie comfortably between her legs.

Tara looked down. His darkly tanned hands on her white body added to the erotic moment, the sensation so familiar and yet so new. Her body ached for his.

This was Wayne, they had spent many hours together like this, but it had been years ago when he was a boy. Now she had the mature man worshipping her body, and it was even better. The coarse stubble of his beard rasped at the tender skin of her breast. He shifted his weight, and she moved her legs to accommodate him again. His flat muscular stomach touched her, and she gasped for breath.

He moved again, and reached for her with one hand, slowly parting her folds with his fingers.

Other books

Wolf Trap by Benjamin Hulme-Cross
Haladras by Michael M. Farnsworth
When I See You by Katherine Owen
El olor de la noche by Andrea Camilleri
I Will Save You by Matt de La Peña
A Drunkard's Path by Clare O'Donohue
The Ides of March by Valerio Massimo Manfredi, Christine Feddersen-Manfredi