The Lawson Boys: Alex (7 page)

Slowly Alex
moved into the kitchen, watching as she took a caddy of tea bags
from the cupboard and set it on the bench. A glance around the
kitchen showed that it hadn’t changed much from his memory of years
before, it still had the same old-fashioned warmth. The table was
the same, the chairs, the dainty doily in the middle upon which
stood a heavy, crystal vase of roses.

Modern touches
were here and there, but it retained the feel of an era long
passed.

Returning his
gaze to Harly, he watched as she got out two mugs and placed a tea
bag in each. Taking a small plate from the cupboard, she placed a
dainty paper doily upon it and topped it with some biscuits from a
tin. Picking up the plate, she crossed to the table and placed it
in the middle, leaning over to shift the roses to the side. As she
did so, her scent drifted to his nose, a mixture of BBQ smoke and
floral.

Returning to
stand at the kitchen bench, she poured the hot water into the mugs,
dunked the tea bags several times, and looked up at him. “Milk?”
she asked calmly.

“Black.
Thanks.”

She poured
some milk into her mug, then placed a teaspoon in each mug before
bringing them over to the table, placing one mug down before Alex
and the other directly opposite. Back to the sink and she returned
with a little ceramic pot and placed it in the centre of the
table.

Harly glanced
around before nodding slightly and sitting down in the chair
opposite him. With deliberate movements, she dunked her tea bag
several more times before wringing it out with the teaspoon and
dropping it into the ceramic pot. A stir with her teaspoon, and she
placed it, too, in the little pot.

Alex found
himself dunking his own tea bag, the sound of his teaspoon clinking
against the thick china of the mug loud in the quietness. Dropping
both the tea bag and the teaspoon into the ceramic pot, he folded
his arms on the tabletop and looked across at her. “Tell me,” he
demanded quietly.

She stared at
his mug in silence for several seconds, clearly gathering her
thoughts. “It’s hard to know where to start.”

“No, it’s
not.”

Her gaze
lifted to meet his. “You have no idea.”

He arched one
brow.

Cradling her
hands around the mug, Harly rubbed her thumbs against the sides of
it. “Do you remember the night you found me crying behind the
PCYC?”

He nodded.
Yeah, he remembered, all right. Sixteen year old Harly Bentley,
dressed in a pretty party frock, crying her heart out because no
one danced with her.

“You took me
home.”

“You refused
to let me get Paul, and I wasn’t going to let you walk home by
yourself.”

“Gentleman
that you were.” She smiled a little before catching sight of his
sober expression and losing the smile. “You took me home. Mum and
Dad weren’t there, they were still at the movies and having
dinner.”

“I made us hot
Milo and we sat on the sofa.” Alex looked directly at her. “You
were crying still, and after I pressed you enough, you finally
admitted that no one had ever kissed you, and the boy of your
dreams had called you a fat tart and laughed in your face when
you’d finally got enough courage up to ask him to dance.”

“Yes. And then
you said I was too pretty to cry, and…” Her cheeks flushed slightly
and she glanced away.

“And I gave
you your first kiss.”

“And we got
carried away.”

That was
putting it mildly. He took a sip of the hot tea. Yeah, they’d
certainly got carried away.
One little kiss, he’d looked into
her eyes, another kiss, she’d been so soft, and those pretty grey
eyes like rainy clouds. And she’d smelled good, too, sweet and
floral, and her breasts had pressed against him. Another kiss, a
caress, his hand under her blouse touching warm, silken flesh.
Another kiss, deeper, hotter, him leaning into her, she tipping
back slowly as he lowered her to the sofa cushions…

She looked at
him and his stomach dropped a little. Yeah, he sure as hell
remembered as clear as day how Harly had felt beneath him. “Teenage
hormones,” he stated.

Her smile was
a touch derisive. “Yeah. Teenage hormones.” The expression in her
eyes was a little bleak. “I remember afterwards how we were trying
to get properly dressed, not really looking at each other…it was
awkward.”

“You were my
best friend’s cousin.” Alex shook his head. “And I’d just taken
your virginity. I could hardly think clearly.”

“Then we heard
my parents’ car in the driveway, you got out of the house through
my bedroom window, and you left the next day.” Harly looked down at
the tea in her mug.

“Don’t stop
now.” Finally, he was going to know what had happened, why she
hadn’t told him.

“I didn’t know
I was pregnant until I missed my second period.” Harly sighed. “I
didn’t tell anyone, not even my parents, but it’s kind of hard to
hide it when you miscarry at the dinner table...with the doctor who
is also a friend attending.”

Alex leaned
back in the chair, feeling in parts both relief and sadness. “You
didn’t terminate the pregnancy?”

“No.” Her gaze
was as steady as his own. “I may have been shit scared, Alex, but I
was going to keep my baby.”

“You didn’t
tell your parents who the baby belonged to, obviously, because I
never got a phone call.”

“My parents
were horrified that I got pregnant in the first place.” Harly shook
her head. “They love me, no doubt about it, but my pregnancy was a
family secret, an embarrassment to be dealt with quietly.
Basically, I had an appointment with a gynaecologist in the city -
God forbid anyone in our hospital should find out - and I was put
in hospital for a D & C.”

“Dilation and
curette.”

“Yeah.”

A shy sixteen
year old girl, a shame to her family, going to the city for a
secret D & C. That had to have been terrible. But it didn’t
change one thing. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want
to spoil your future.”

“Spoil my
future?” Anger mingled with disbelief. “I’d have taken care of you,
Harly. That baby was mine as well.”

“Alex, you
were a seventeen year old boy planning to go into the Army as soon
as you could. You spoke of your dreams, said nothing would ever
hold you back. I wasn’t going to intrude on that. I wasn’t going to
make you have me in your life.”

“You think
that’s a reasonable explanation?” Angrily, he leaned forward. “If
that baby had survived, would you have ever told me? Or would you
have denied me the pleasure of watching my baby grow?”

Stiffening in
her chair, a spark of anger showed in her eyes. “I was sixteen
years old, Alex. Sixteen, scared, and reliant on my parents. You
were Paul’s best friend who I saw once a year, I didn’t really know
you. You never even contacted me again after that episode. How
could I face you when you couldn’t even contact me again?”

“It wasn’t
like
you
tried to contact me. I never saw you after that.
You never came near me.” He shoved his mug away. “Damn it, Harly! I
didn’t know!”

“Damn it,
nothing!” She slashed her hand in the air. “I’d had enough
humiliation that night, then I had pity sex from you, and you think
I was in any frame of mind to tell you that I was pregnant and hand
you the responsibility?”

“Yes!”

“No! I made
the decision to tell no one who the father was, and I made the
decision to let you go free.”

“Free?” Alex
fisted one hand. “You would have denied me my child.”

“That child
never lived!”

The words fell
between them, harsh and sad at the same time.

Sitting back,
she folded her arms across her chest and looked at the table. “I
lost the baby.”

For a few
seconds, Alex didn’t know what to say. His anger still burned, the
unfairness of not knowing that his baby had existed for even a
short time. The fear that if it had existed, he’d never have known.
That last thought made him stand up, shoving the chair back as he
did so. “And if you hadn’t lost the baby? Would you have bothered
to tell me later, or would you have enjoyed its life while leaving
me ignorant?”

“I never
thought about it.” She looked up at him.

“Well, that’s
bloody lovely, Harly.” He pointed at her, his anger riding high
again. Anger and something else he couldn’t pinpoint right then, he
only knew that he’d been kept in the dark. “But you could have told
me at any time over the years. Any time. Regardless of what
happened, that baby was mine as well, and I had a right to know.”
Too furious to be near her any longer, needing to distance himself,
he turned and stormed from the room and down the hallway.

God damn it,
he should have
known
.

“Alex! Wait!”
He heard her call out but he didn’t stop, swinging the wooden door
open and reaching for the security screen.

The security
screen was jerked out of his hold and slammed shut.

Turning
around, he looked narrowly down at her. “I can’t speak to you right
now, Harly, I’m so bloody furious and disappointed.”

As the words
sounded she paled, her eyes widening.

For a second
he thought she was going to faint, and even in his anger he felt a
spark of concern. Without thought he reached out.

She slapped
his hand away, then wrapped her arms around herself and stood
there, her lips trembling and eyes filling with tears as she
whispered, “That’s what Mum and Dad said. Right after I miscarried,
as soon as we found out what had happened, they said they were so
disappointed in me. I’d just lost the baby, and all they could say
was that they were so disappointed in me.” A tear slipped free,
rolling down her cheek, and utter misery filled her eyes. “I lost
the baby, Alex.” And she started to cry.

“I could have
been with you,” Alex replied bitterly. “I could have been here to
support you, Harly, but you made your decision to stand alone. I
guess you’re having second thoughts now, but it’s too late.”
Turning on his heel, he walked through the doorway, out onto the
veranda and across the yard to the Jeep.

Climbing in,
he shoved the key into the ignition and started the Jeep. It
growled to life and he put it into gear. But he didn’t take his
foot off the brake.

Staring at the
house, the door shut where it had swung closed behind him, he
couldn’t help but remember the tears spilling down Harly’s
cheeks.

Damn it, she
deserved to cry. She deserved to be alone. She could have chosen to
tell him, to have him by her side, but she’d made her bed and now
she was lying in it. Her choice. Not his choice.
Her
choice.

He told
himself that as he gazed at the door. The light spilling from the
small window in the top of the door was a gamely burning glow.

His baby had
been a small glow of life inside Harly and he hadn’t known. Now he
knew. She’d thought she was setting him free, but she hadn’t given
him that choice, instead, she’d made it for him. The wrong
choice.

And now she
was alone, crying.

And he was
sitting out here feeling vindicated, righteous, and so bloody angry
he could punch his fist through a wall if there had of been one
nearby.

Scrubbing his
hand over his face, he took a deep breath, braced his hands on the
steering wheel…then with a curse he turned the ignition off, jerked
the key free, opened the door to the jeep and jumped down to the
ground. Calling himself all kinds of a fool for caring even a
little - that had to come from his mother’s side, surely - Alex
stormed back across the yard, bounded up the veranda and thrust the
door open.

Harly was
exactly where he’d left her, standing facing the door with her arms
wrapped around herself, tears streaming down her cheeks, those grey
eyes looking so much like rain-drenched clouds.

At the sight
of him scowling, she took a step back and held out a palm. “I’m
s-sorry, Alex, I’m so sorry.”

Did she think
he was going to strike her? The thought hit him hard, unwelcome,
making him pull up. But then he took another look at her face,
those tears, those lush lips that trembled, and when she raised her
arm and wiped her cheeks on her sleeve, the gesture so defenceless,
he crumbled.

Just a
little.

Stepping
forward, he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into his
embrace as he gruffly said, “Come here.” He was a fool for feeling
that little stab of compassion at the sight of her tears. Just
showing her a little compassion, he assured himself. Just a little.
Nothing more.

It was what he
thought, but when she stood in shocked stiffness he found himself
reassuring her quietly. “Sssshhh, Harly. I’m here now, it’s all
right.”

“I don’t
understand-“ she began brokenly.

Neither did
he, but he followed his instinct, however mad he thought himself
back in the saner recesses of his brain. “Just shush.” Placing his
chin on top of her head, he held her gently but firmly against
him.

For several
seconds she held herself stiffly, but then he started to rub her
back and suddenly she just melted into him, the tears she’d been
trying to hold back pouring forth.

His heart gave
a little jerk, a little squeeze of pain at the sudden unwelcome
image of Harly as a teenager, crying for her - their - lost baby,
and not receiving any compassion from her own parents. It had been
the family’s shameful secret, and that meant that no one outside
herself and her parents had known.

Harly had had
no one to turn to. She’d born the sorrow and mourning by herself.
Truly alone.

Closing his
eyes, Alex sighed.
Shit. Shit and double shit
. It didn’t
change anything, he was still angry, but his anger had shifted a
little.

Minutes passed
as he held her, her body so soft and warm against his, her tears
wetting his shirt where she clutched it against her cheeks as she
leaned into him. Rubbing her back soothingly, he waited.