Authors: Rosalind James
“Thanks.” She hauled herself up and pulled an extra pillow
behind her. “A coffee?” she realized. “Not a cup of tea?”
“I bought one of those K-Cup things yesterday,” he
confessed. “Because you’re too exciting. If my nights are going to be this
eventful, I decided I was going to need serious caffeine.”
“Ha. You thought
I
was going to need it, that’s the
real truth.”
“Well, yeh. That too. You look just as pretty in that
nightdress in the daylight, by the way. And I wish you’d stayed with me, last
night. Because I’m not sure when Zack wakes up. Too late now.” He gave a
disgruntled sigh.
“What time is it?” she asked, taking another grateful sip of
hot, milky coffee as she stretched out a knee to rub it against his side. He didn’t
disappoint, reaching for it and stroking her skin. And he’d even put honey in
her coffee, she could tell, even though he shuddered every time she added it.
“A bit after seven,” he said, letting go of her knee and
standing up again with another sigh of regret. “I was about to use the gym,
before breakfast. I really came in to ask if you wanted to join me.”
“Sure. Let me get dressed, and I’ll be right there.”
Half an hour later, she was beginning to realize that she
was in for a serious workout. Nic was a demanding coach, keeping a critical eye
on her form. “You don’t have to help me, you know,” she protested as he set
down his bar to put a hand behind her lower back, another on her upper chest.
He gently nudged her more upright before he picked up his own bar again and
resumed counting off squats and dead lifts to the accompaniment of pumping
music from the room’s built-in speaker system.
“This is meant to be your workout,” she went on
breathlessly. “It’s for you. I’m just . . . ugh . . . tagging along. And
enjoying watching your . . . muscles flex.”
“You’re missing your class today,” he pointed out, shifting
his grip a bit on the heavy barbell he held across his back. “Twelve more. And
this
is
for me. Because I like looking at your bum while you do this.
It’s my entertainment.”
“You do?” she asked as she bent over to perform the set of dead
lifts he ordered next.
“Looks good that way too,” he said, somehow keeping track of
the count and the conversation while he watched her. “Just like that time I saw
you in your class. Much better now that I know I get to touch it. And that’s
it,” he finished, lifting his bar over his head and setting it down as the song
ended. He grabbed a couple towels from the bar nearby, tossing one to her. “Shoulders
next.”
“Mum?” Zack came into the room in his new pajamas, hair
sticking up in all directions in wild abandon.
“Morning, baby,” Emma said, pulling him in for a hug and
kiss. “You slept late.”
Zack was looking at Nic’s barbell with awed fascination.
“Wow. That’s
huge.”
Nic laughed, gave his son’s head a rub and reached to turn
the music down. “Don’t tell the forwards that. They’d fall about laughing.
That’s why the backs like to train together, avoid those embarrassing
comparisons. You have a good night, in your new bed? How’d that lower bunk suit
you?”
“Good,” Zack said, leaning close as Nic wrapped a sweaty arm
around his shoulders.
“We’re still working out, for a while longer,” Emma said.
“Why don’t you go brush your teeth and get your clothes on? Then you can go
play in your tower, if you like, or come down here with your Tintin book while
I finish. Breakfast soon, I promise.”
“And mate,” Nic added. “You may want to check your shelves
in that room. Because I think there may be something on there now. I hate bare
shelves.” He gave the boy a wink that had Zack scurrying for the door again.
“New Lego set,” Nic said at Emma’s questioning look.
“Something for here, for him to do this weekend.”
“It’s a bit different,” he added thoughtfully as they
adjusted their weights in preparation for the next group of exercises.
“What is?”
“Having a kid. Having to think about what he’s going to do,
so you can finish your workout.”
She laughed. “
If
you get to finish. It’s nice that
he’s six now and can do more for himself. But you’re right. Your life isn’t
nearly as simple. Or as spontaneous.”
“I’m discovering that,” he admitted. “Elbows out. Lift to
chest height,” he demonstrated. “Twelve of these.”
“Are you regretting taking it on?” she asked as she followed
along.
“Nah,” he said seriously. “I said it was different. Not that
it wasn’t better.”
“That’s a pretty picture,” Nic said, coming back into the
house with Zack after an afternoon rugby session. He leaned down to kiss the
top of Emma’s head as she sat cross-legged on the couch, her lap full of pale
green skirt.
“What, me knitting? I don’t look like your sweet granny?”
He laughed. “Not exactly. What’re you working on now?”
She held up the large circular needle to show him. “A skirt
for my sister.”
“I like those . . . holes in it,” he said.
“The lace pattern,” she smiled. “Yeah, it’s pretty, isn’t
it? I’m going to weave some silk ribbon through, in this horizontal band between
the two main patterns. That’s why I’ve made bigger openings there.”
“How d’you do that? Make the holes?” he asked, coming to sit
beside her.
“You really want to know?” she asked in surprise.
“Yeh. Why not?”
“Looks tricky,” he commented as she demonstrated the
pattern.
“Yeah, lace can be,” she admitted. “It’s a challenge to pay
attention, not to make a mistake. I can’t knit lace during rugby games anymore.
I end up with the pattern all over the place. And if I’m watching you,” she
confessed, “I can’t knit at all.”
“Another dream realized. I’m more fascinating than knitting.
And we have an hour,” he announced, glancing at his watch. “Before we need to head
out to the pub, if we’re not going to be rushed getting to the game.”
“OK. I’ll finish this row, then I’ll get Zack and me ready,”
Emma promised.
Zack pulled at Nic’s arm until his father bent over. “That’s
what she always says,” the boy confided in a low voice. “But she takes a long
time. We’ll be
late.
”
“Hey. I heard that,” Emma protested. “I’m not saying I won’t
be rushing around at the end. But I
have
to finish my row.”
“No worries,” Nic smiled, watching her needles fly. “We’ll
be on time.” Because they actually had an extra fifteen
minutes. He had
Emma’s little issue with time sussed out by now.
“Nice jersey, Zack,” Reka said with a warm smile as the
three of them edged into their seats in the stands well in advance of the
start, thanks to Nic’s strategic planning. “I see you’ve decided which team
you’re supporting tonight. Not turning up in a Boks jersey.”
“This is the real All Blacks jersey,” Zack told her
seriously. “The new one, this year’s. And I have All Black pajamas, and an All
Black bedroom, at Nic’s. I have
everything.”
“At Nic’s, eh,” Reka said, her gaze moving amongst the three
of them, curiosity evident. Emma edged around her with a word and a hug, gave
Hannah and Kate a quick kiss hello, enquired after Jenna and the baby.
“Yeh,” Nic said, pulling Zack to him with an arm around his
shoulders. “At my house. I see you’ve got to know my son, Reka. So you will’ve
already learnt that he has good taste when it comes to sport.”
All the women looked up at that, Nic saw with satisfaction.
Well, if you had something to announce, telling Reka was the surest way.
She recovered quickly. “Go on down past Kate,” she
instructed Zack now. “Show the other kids that flash new jersey. They have an
extra flag for you, too. Brought it along specially.”
“I hope you don’t mind that I won’t be paying too much
attention to you during the game,” Nic told Emma as they settled down to await
the teams’ entry onto the field. “I need to keep a sharp eye out tonight, see
how the Boks’ve decided to play us. As I’ll be out there against them myself in
a few weeks.”
“No worries. I’m sure Reka will keep me company.”
“I’m sure she will,” he said with a smile. “I know that put
you on the spot, but Zack needs to know, too. That I’m his dad, and I’m happy
to tell anyone about it.”
Emma had cravenly hoped that Reka would be too interested in
the fast-moving game for further discussion. Pity tonight’s referee was one of
those who seemed to enjoy picking up every infraction. The game was a
stuttering stop-start affair, interrupted by countless scrum resets and
lineouts. Plenty of time for Reka to get a few questions in.
“Nic seems chuffed about Zack,” was her first sally. “I
wouldn’t really have expected less of him, but I’m guessing it’s been a bit
complicated. With Claudia, and all.”
“Yeah,” Emma agreed. “It was. Nic’s been nothing but
involved since he found out. He’s done everything right, really. But it hasn’t
been easy.”
“That’s what broke off the engagement, eh,” Reka asked. “We
all wondered, because she made a dead set at him from the start. It was hard to
imagine her giving him the push. Which of them was it, in the end?
Was
it
her? Or him?”
Emma wondered if she should say. But she knew what Reka was
really asking, and she wanted to scotch that rumor from the start. “It was
her,” she said. “But not because of me,” she went on hastily. “Nic and I hadn’t
. . . we didn’t . . . I think they were having problems anyway,” she finished
lamely. “And then, Zack.”
They fell silent for a few minutes, watching the game. Until
the referee blew the whistle for another scrum.
“So he told her he had a kid,” Reka guessed. “And that was
one hill too far.”
“Yeah,” Emma said with relief. “I think so.”
“No loss,” Reka pronounced. Emma couldn’t help a surprised burst
of laughter, which had Reka joining in. “Just couldn’t warm up to her,” Reka
confessed. “Nic’s a sweetheart. He deserves better. Somebody warmer.” Her
glance was speculative again.
“She was beautiful, though,” Emma pointed out. “I only met
her once, but I saw lots of pictures. She’s stunning. And really intelligent,
from what I hear. She’s going places, I think.”
“Huh,” Reka sniffed. “I asked Hemi once, and he said,
too
perfect. He said, you want a girl you can rumple a bit.” She grinned at
Emma. “Sorry. That’s my hubby talking.”
Emma laughed, but she was glad when the teams went into the
changing sheds at the break with the All Blacks up by a measly three points,
and she could turn to Nic again. He sat back with a frustrated sigh, a frown
making an unusual appearance on his normally cheerful face.
“Bad?” she asked tentatively.
“Not getting any quick ball,” he complained. “Their forward
pack has us on the back foot, and we’re not able to play any kind of expansive
game. And all those penalties the ref is blowing, they’re not helping a bit.
All chop and change, not able to get into any kind of rhythm.”
“Would it be better if you were there?” she asked.
He grinned suddenly. “I’d like to think so, wouldn’t I?
Because I always figure into it more when we play the Boks. I sometimes wonder
why they don’t move away a bit from that kick and chase strategy, but on the
other hand, they have the best record of any team against the ABs, so you
could say it works for them. Keep it amongst the forwards, keep us from playing
our best game. Anyway, win or lose, you know you’ve played a match the next
day.”
“You mean you figure into it because they kick it away so
much,” she guessed, zeroing in on the part of his speech that had caught her
attention. “And then you kick it back, or run it, or pass it to one of the
wings, or whatever. Depending.”
“Yeh.” He smiled again at her. “Depending. Are you asking,
depending on what?”
“Not right now,” she decided. “I’ll wait till you have time
to really explain it. Because I’m afraid you’re going to have to be drawing me
pictures.”
“I’ll just go get you a beer, then,” he decided. “If I’m
going to be watching from the stands, may as well take full advantage and have
a bev while I can.” He leaned around her, touched Reka on the arm. “Can I get
you something?” he asked her. “Or any of the others?”
Reka relayed the offer down the line, turned back to Nic. “A
beer for Kate, she says. Nothing for Hannah. And definitely nothing for me. I’d
just end up spending the second half queuing for the toilets. Thanks, though.”
He looked a bit startled, and Emma laughed. “You’re
presuming too much pregnant-lady knowledge, Reka.”
“It’s your bladder,” she explained kindly to Nic. “When you
get that pregnant, the final trimester. The last three months,” she translated.
“The baby’s pressing on everything, and you don’t have much room in there.”
She laughed again at the look on his face. “Go get the
beers,” she told him. “Escape before we start talking about hemorrhoids.”
That had Reka laughing as well, and Nic scooting off in a
hurry.
“He’s facing a fair learning curve, I can see,” Reka said,
as Hannah and Kate leaned forward to join the conversation.
“What did we miss?” Kate asked, eyes sparkling. “Because
I’ll bet Reka’s got it all out of you, Emma. Come on, catch me up.”
“You’re as bad as Reka, Kate,” Hannah told her. “I swear,
you’re becoming Maori yourself. Show a little Pakeha restraint.”
“I’m Italian,” Kate complained. “That’s already halfway to
Maori. And the other half, Koti’s been working on. You want restraint, go sit
with Emma and be blonde and proper together. Leave Reka and me in the Fun Kids
section. So Nic’s ditched Cool, Capable Claudia, eh, Emma? Did he come to his
senses, or did she decide she fit the role of Wicked Stepmother a little too
well?”
“Kate!” Hannah gasped. “That’s bad, even for you. That’s
going too far.”
“Whoops.” Kate looked chagrined. “Sorry, Emma. I do get
carried away, when I’m having fun.”