Page 55 of Just Watch Me
Scarlett sighed ostentatiously, and Finlay said, “Scarlett and I don’t necessarily want to watch a kid movie.”
“Thankyou,” Scarlett said, the two of them united in purpose for once.
“I reckon you’ll find some way to pass the time,” Zane said. “Coming, Skylar?”
So, yes, she went. It was the most spontaneous thing she’d done for ages, was why. And itwasa gorgeously fine day, the wind fresh and the puffy white clouds scudding along overhead. “I’m going to let you choose the way,” she said, when they’d headed down the road, “possibly because it gets a bit much at times, making every decision. But then, you probably feel the same way.”
“Not today,” he said, and she wondered,What doesthatmean?But she didn’t pursue it. She’d been in that kitchen forhours.
She was thinking it when Zane said, “You must’ve been in the kitchen for hours, doing all that cooking, and in the supermarket before that.”
“Yes,” she said. “But I have to admit, cooking in your beautiful kitchen is pretty enjoyable, especially if I don’t have topay for the groceries. And my kids got to swim in your pool, too. I’m afraid theywouldjust as soon spend the entire holidays with you after today. Not that that’s happening,” she added.
“Mm,” he said, then raised his hands overhead and stretched as he walked. “Ah, that feels good.”
“I thought I noticed you limping,” she said.
“Bruised, that’s all. Got to expect the occasional niggle.” He put his arms down and walked beside her for a while in silence that somehow wasn’t awkward. Why not? Because he was a calming presence, that was why, even as he was just exactlynota calming presence. He proved it by saying, “Bugger it,” and taking her hand. “OK with you? Feels odd to walk beside you and not hold your hand.”
She should think about those rules. Whether anybody might pass by who recognized both of them, somebody with a kid in her class, perhaps. Zane was too recognizable. What she thought instead was,It’s just holding a hand. And it feels so good.Especially when he threaded his fingers through hers. “OK,” she said, and then, because she had to say something, “I like your brothers. And your sister. The way they just blurt it all out.”
He smiled. “They do. They like you, too. And your kids. George and Georgia seem to be fast friends already. In case you’re worrying, Duncan’s a pretty careful fella, too. Looks out for Georgia, and he’ll do the same for George.”
“Another nurturing man,” she said.
“Even though he doesn’t want to be,” he said, and this time, they both smiled.
“This idea, though,” she said.
“Hold that thought.” They’d been walking through the leafy suburb, peaceful in the late-autumn Sunday sunshine, but had reached the Orakei Basin and were walking over thebridge. “Nearly at the pub. Sit outside by the water, you reckon, and have a drink? You’ve earned it.”
“Sure,” she said, the recklessness overtaking her. “I’d say that you’ve earned one too. Your brothers went out drinking last night and you didn’t, I suspect.”
“Mm.” When they got there, he sat in one red-striped canvas chair and she took the one next to it. There was a tiny table between them, and she was sorry to lose his hand. It had been big and warm and so … comforting. Could a man be both comforting and exciting? Not in her experience. She wasn’t thinking very clearly at all, she was afraid. She was mostly feeling, and her thoughts never managed to keep up with her feelings. Her thoughts usually didn’t evenrecognizeher feelings.
“Champagne, I think,” Zane said, as she looked out at the sunlight sparkling on the water and wanted to fall asleep right here. “My favorite they’ve got is the Mumm Grand Cordon. Still a Brut, but with heaps of fruit flavors. OK?”
“Oh, yes. Champagne, though. Are we celebrating?” It was teasing, but she felt like teasing. The tang of salt in the air, the breeze lifting the edges of her hair, and the knowledge that she was, at this moment, responsible for nothing.
“Commiserating,” he said, and they both smiled again. “I’m cheating, because my whanau does a pretty good Brut Rose. I’ll open a bottle another time and you can try it.”
He ordered two glasses. Twenty-four dollars each, and she couldn’t care. Shehadcooked two dinners for his whanau while he’d been gone, after all. When the wine came and she took a sip, the fizz made her sneeze.
She said, sitting back with a sigh, “You’re sinning again.”
“Yeh. One beer last night, and ABs training starting tomorrow. I’ll be packing for Welly tonight, and it’ll be discipline all the way through the middle of September, when we’ll have a wee break. It’s a brutal schedule this year.”
“Is it harder?” she asked, taking another sip of the fizzy golden stuff and practically feeling the bubbles in her veins. There was a bit of caramel in there, some sweet toastiness along with the fruit, and it was lovely. “Playing that hard when you’re not in your twenties anymore? I don’t know much about elite athletes, but it seems like it would be harder.”
He looked out at the water, considering, and she said, “I like that about you, by the way. The way you think before you speak. Unless I was just incredibly insulting, insinuating that you can’t keep up, and you’re being disapprovingly silent.”
He laughed out loud and picked up her hand. “No. I don’t think you know how to be insulting. I like the way you talk to kids, if we’re sharing. And to me, except when you’re telling me you don’t want me.” He rubbed his thumb over the backs of her fingers—how did that feel sogood?—and without waiting for her to answer, said, “You’re right. I don’t heal any slower, so that’s not it. Can’t be a slow healer and make it at the top level, and I’m a pretty tough specimen. It’s more that I can’t lose my discipline without feeling it. The young boys can go out on the razzle and turn up to training the next day not much the worse. Me, not so much. I’ve got to get to bed on time and get my sleep, and eat right, too. Your dinner today was perfect, by the way. That’s why I wasn’t on the piss last night, though. That, and it’s also got a bit boring. I’ve been in too many bars in too many cities, probably.”
“And yet here we are,” she said, teasing again.
“Ah. But I’m here with you this time, not my ugly brothers.” They both smiled at that, and he let go of her hand, which was sad. “And here’s where I tell you that I’d like you and the kids to come to Wellington, if you’d like to. One week, two weeks, three weeks … whatever you think. I won’t be there much, like I said, but when I am? I’d like you to be there.”
She didn’t answer for a minute, then said, “It feels … awkward. I’m not sure how your kids really feel about it, for one thing, and I’m going to come out and say that I can’t afford all those places they talked about. Te Papa’s free for Kiwis, I know, but the others aren’t. The airfare would be more than I’d planned for, but I could manage it. Anything else, though? No. And that was hard for me to say, so you know. I’m a bit?—"
