Stella Makes Good (12 page)

Baby steps, she told herself as she walked back to her car. And they might have been baby steps but she was feeling lighter and more energised than she had in months. It felt fantastic. As she put her key in the ignition, she realised something else, too. Not once during the entire session had she tapped her foot, clenched her hands or thought about her husband.

Jesse was feeling optimistic and strong, as if she could take on the world and win. She felt confident she could find ways to handle Steve better, to nurture their marriage as well as the kids, and balance those responsibilities with her own ambitions and desires. This was definitely a turning point. Jesse could feel it in her heart.

he library was hectic. There were people everywhere, speaking loudly on their mobiles, letting their toddlers scream up and down the shelving aisles. I had a massive to-do list but I’d been stationed at the reference desk for most of the morning, dealing with customer enquiries. At one point it was so busy that the people waiting formed a huddle, inching ever closer to the desk as I tried to deal with them one at a time. One particularly rude man even tapped his keys on the desktop to get my attention. I wanted to ignore him but Liz was standing nearby.

‘I’ll just be a moment,’ I said and turned back to the elderly woman I was helping.

She wanted to know if the book she was holding, a 1969, out-of-print illustrated history of the magnolia flower, was for sale.

‘It’s not a bookshop,’ Key Man barked.

I glared at him, then smiled at her. ‘No, I’m sorry, madam, the book isn’t for sale.’

She walked away, book clutched firmly against her chest.

Key Man shook his head. ‘Bet that book disappears before the end of the day.’

I didn’t want to agree with him but he was probably right.

At least Liz was having a good day. Her new-books order had arrived and she was in her element, marvelling over jacket covers, making notes about guest authors she wanted to invite to speak at the library. She hadn’t mentioned Jesse and I hoped that meant she’d leave her alone when Jesse came in on Thursday.

After my stint at the reference desk, I got on with my other jobs. By two o’clock I was up-to-date and out the door. June and I had an appointment with Toby.

‘I’m perfectly fine,’ June said when I picked her up. She was looking resplendent in a Pucci-inspired turban.

‘I know, but your arm’s still swollen and bruised. The doctor needs to see how it’s healing.’

That was true. But I’d also phoned Toby to ask if he could discreetly run some preliminary Alzheimer’s memory tests. He’d said it wasn’t his area but had agreed to line up another doctor. Just thinking about the possibility of June having Alzheimer’s broke my heart, but we needed to get some facts. And then, hopefully, we could just put her memory lapses down to ageing and absent-mindedness.

Toby didn’t keep us waiting. ‘Mrs Sparks, how are you feeling today?’

‘As I told my daughter-in-law, I am feeling perfectly fine. I wish everyone would stop hovering around me like I’m a cripple.’

‘Excellent,’ he soothed as he took her by her good arm. ‘We’re just going to have a look at your arm and run a few tests—’

‘What sort of tests?’

Toby glanced at me before continuing. ‘Nothing to be concerned about. Standard procedure on over seventies. Doctor Gordon is going to assist, but I’ll be staying with you.’ He nodded to a woman nearby who looked even younger than he did.

‘I’m not over seventy, I am seventy.’

‘Come on, June,’ I said. ‘Stop being pedantic.’ I felt guilty not telling her the real reason for the tests, but I held my ground. They needed to be done and I knew she’d never agree. ‘I’ll be here when you’re finished.’

I took a seat in the waiting room, cursing myself for not bringing a book. A few minutes later, Toby walked in.

‘That was quick!’

‘Sorry to disappoint you but we’re just getting started.’ He crossed his arms. ‘I spoke to Carly a little while ago.’

‘Ah.’

‘Yeah, seems her declarations from last Thursday night aren’t about to be followed through. Pity. I thought we hit it off.’ He looked over to the closed door of the room he’d taken June into. ‘They’ll be ready for me now. See you in a little while.’

I turned my attention to an ancient copy of
House & Garden
magazine. I’d almost dozed off when someone tapped me on the shoulder. Mike! With everything that had been going on, I’d almost forgotten about him. Surreptitiously, I checked my appearance.

‘Hello, stranger,’ he said, smiling broadly. ‘I was told you were lurking around the second floor.’

‘Nice to see you again,’ I said. And it was. I couldn’t help smiling as I looked into his incredible blue eyes.

He sat down beside me. ‘Not wearing the navy wrap today? Shame.’

I blushed.

‘So tell me,’ he said, suddenly serious, ‘how is your mother-in-law? This isn’t my area—trauma and emergency are more my specialty—but Toby called and said you were worried about her.’

‘Thanks,’ I said, overcoming my shyness. ‘Maybe I’m overreacting. June’s been a bit forgetful of late, and then with her fall on Sunday and coming in here, I thought it was a good opportunity to have her thoroughly checked out. I hope I’m wrong.’

Mike looked at me closely. ‘I hope so, too. What else has been happening?’

I raised my eyebrows and deliberately looked at my watch. ‘How long have you got?’

He smiled ‘That much?’

Despite the circumstances, I felt happy. Nervous but excited. I had an incredible urge to touch Mike. I wanted to wrap my arms around him and hold him. It certainly wasn’t appropriate or in any way rational—and I prided myself on being rational. So I took a deep breath and tried hard to pull back and concentrate on our conversation.

‘How’s your friend?’ he asked.

‘We haven’t told her,’ I said, glancing down at my hands. ‘But . . .’

‘But?’

‘Her husband’s been making calls to Carly and me. And he’s sent emails.’

‘What? Threatening you?’

‘Kind of.’

‘Stella, that’s not good. You need to tell someone—if not the police—’

‘No!’ I shook my head. ‘Jesse has a right to know, but—’

‘Yes, she does. And once she knows, she’ll be able to deal with it. Something like this is almost impossible to keep secret.’

I nodded, feeling myself drifting from the conversation, imagining Mike and I somewhere, anywhere, ripping each other’s clothes off. His naked body and my pure lust driving me . . . hard.

Mike took a moment. ‘So, you’re not really into texting?’

I blushed again. ‘Sorry about that. Don’t get me wrong—I like getting your texts,’ love getting them, actually, ‘it’s just that I read your last message and . . . well, I didn’t know how to respond.’

He put his hand on my knee and I shivered, hopefully not so much that he noticed.

‘We can work on that,’ he said. ‘Because unless I’m reading this completely wrong—and tell me if I am—there’s something between us. I just need to draw your inner wilder Stella out into the open.’

‘Hmm.’ Again I felt like a mute.

‘I’ll take that as a “Yes, Mike! I totally agree. Do what you have to do.” Am I right?’

I giggled nervously. ‘Maybe.’

‘Ahem.’ It was Toby. ‘We’re all done, Stella.’

‘Oh,’ I said, standing up and composing myself. ‘How is she?’

‘Still in a lot of pain, but she’s a tough old bird, that one.’

‘Who are you calling old?’ said June, coming up beside him.

I’d have expected her to be more affronted by the word ‘bird’ but she didn’t seem to mind.

‘June,’ I said, ‘this is Mike.’

‘Another doctor friend, Stella?’ June’s eyebrows were raised so high her turban wobbled. ‘You seem to be gathering a collection.’

Mike held out his hand. ‘Nice to meet you, June. Love your headgear.’

June smiled.

‘You’re in good hands with Toby here,’ Mike told her, then turned to me. ‘I’ll be off. Let me know when we can catch up for that coffee.’

‘Sure,’ I said nonchalantly and watched him walk away. I suddenly felt deflated. When would I see him again?

June and I thanked Toby and headed towards the elevator.

‘Are you going to tell me how you know all these handsome young doctors?’ June said as we stepped inside.

‘From around,’ I replied, a little flustered, sidetracking her with a suggestion about stopping in at Flower Power.

Twenty minutes later, we were wandering amongst the herb seedlings at the nursery. It was a glorious afternoon. All around us, freesias, hydrangeas and lisianthus were in full and abundant colour.

‘This was a nice idea,’ June said as we breathed in the late summer orange blossoms.

‘Should we stop in at your house on the way home?’ I asked as we made our way to the car park. I was loaded up with several pots of herbs, three flowering daisy plants and a standard lemon tree.

‘No, thank you. I have all I need,’ said June, as I helped her into the car.

I thought about Mike as I prepared dinner. Of course I did. He was creeping into my mind more and more. He was handsome but not drop-dead gorgeous. He had charisma, though, buckets of it, and a great smile, piercing blue eyes. Not to mention he was charming and . . . well, the whole Mike package made me swoon.

I’d done a bit of snooping—discreetly, of course—and found out that he’d split acrimoniously from his wife several months ago and she was restricting access to his three kids—two girls, and a son, Jack, the eldest, who was a year above Ben at school. He only saw them every fourth weekend, and sometimes not even then because he was often on call seven days a week. It made me think how lucky I was that the separation was working out so far with Terry. Touch wood. We’d tried hard to keep things amicable for the sake of Hannah and Ben. Not that Terry should be narky, given his situation. Still, he wasn’t seeing much of the kids so I needed to gently steer them towards making a greater effort with him. On the other hand, he wasn’t the greatest communicator, either.

‘Mum,’ said Hannah, interrupting my thoughts and passing me the phone. ‘It’s Dad.’

‘Are you seeing him soon?’ I whispered.

She nodded. ‘This weekend.’

I blew her a kiss. ‘Good girl.’ I placed the phone to my ear. ‘Hi Terry, how’s it going?’

‘Under the pump.’

Under the pump? What the hell did that mean?

‘You’re fixing a pool pump? Being pumped by a person or persons? Sounds painful.’

Terry sighed. ‘I’m just busy.’

‘Oh, okay. Well, what’s up? This is becoming a regular habit.’

‘Aren’t I even allowed to phone my family now?’

I shook my head. Men! ‘Of course.’ I wasn’t up for a confrontation. ‘What’s news in the last six hours since we spoke?’

‘Nothing. Just checking in.’

‘You don’t need to check in. You do know that, don’t you? We’re separated.’

I could hear him sighing on the other end of the line. Again.

‘I took June back to the hospital for a check-up this afternoon,’ I said. ‘Her arm’s healing but it’ll take time.’

‘Thanks for looking after her. I . . .’

Silence.

‘What’s up? You sound terrible.’

‘It’s Amanda.’

‘And?’

More silence.

‘Terry? I don’t get it. You couldn’t wait to leave me and hook up with her.’

‘That was before.’

‘Before what?’

‘Before she wanted to get married.’

‘Oh.’ That took me by surprise. Terry marrying Amanda? The kids having a stepmother? Wow! Life really did move on quickly. I couldn’t begin to imagine how June would take the news. I could just imagine Terry telling Hannah and Ben. They’d have a fit. They’d come around eventually, especially if he lavished them with gifts of iPads and holidays to Fiji, but I didn’t relish the idea of sharing my children with another woman permanently.

‘But we’re not divorced yet,’ I said evenly, despite the lump at the back of my throat and the pain at the front of my head.

It wasn’t like I wanted Terry back; I didn’t. And I wasn’t jealous about his relationship with Amanda. I just didn’t understand how he could re-partner so quickly. He’d moved from living with his mother to living with me, and now he was living with Amanda. Didn’t he want any time alone to enjoy his own company?

‘I know, so the longer we stay married, the better,’ he said.

‘So you don’t want to marry Amanda?’

‘Of course not! We’re only just getting to know each other.’

Okay, so Terry wasn’t completely ruled by his penis, at least not yet. He still possessed a modicum of independent thought. I immediately felt twenty kilos lighter . . . and the headache disappeared.

‘Stella?’

‘Mmm?’

‘I thought I’d lost you.’

I blinked. What was he trying to tell me? ‘Pardon?’

‘The connection—I thought I’d lost you. Listen, I’d appreciate you not mentioning this to the kids.’