Back at her apartment she cleared the outside table. Nixon wasn’t into sharing about himself, which meant no real closeness. Good friends shared some private details about themselves. Lovers a lot more. There were no secrets between two people in love. There was her answer. This had nothing to do with love because she couldn’t tell him how weak and feeble the past had made her. She certainly wasn’t going to explain how his care and concern piqued her interest, made her think there was a life out there involving a man—love, sex, commitment.
The baby cried on the other side of her lounge wall.
Her boobs squeezed tight, diverting her from Nixon and the improbable to Grace and reality.
The sound of Abbie murmuring sweet nothings to her daughter drifted through from her open windows to Emma’s straining ears. Nothing like a baby’s cry to hit her heart, pull on the strings.
Emma crossed her arms carefully over her breasts. Down, girls, down. Not your job to feed Grace. Sharp tugs of pain said it all.
She could go visit, maybe hold Grace. She had to if she wanted to move forward, past this hurdle of longing. Deal with this and put Nixon on hold. She was using him, if only in her head, to avoid the emptiness from handing the baby over.
She might as well deal with the real problem here. It was baby Grace who made her ache with pain and longing and love, not Nixon. With a huff she headed across the lawn and up the steps to Abbie’s deck. Never before had she been reluctant to drop in on her friend, while at the same time she couldn’t wait, needing to reassure herself they were still on the same page, that nothing had changed between them.
‘Hey, how’re you doing?’ she asked softly as she stepped inside the apartment identical to hers in size and layout and the exact opposite in décor. While Emma went for soft and feminine Abbie had chosen a strong modern style.
Abbie looked up with wonder in her eyes. ‘Amazing. I still can’t quite believe I’m breastfeeding my daughter.’
Emma’s boobs were still doing that tightening, painful thing, but she just breathed deeply and waited until they got tired of the game. ‘It’s great for bonding. I still remember those feelings when I first fed Rosie, and many times afterwards. It’s so special.’
‘You want to hold Grace when I’m done?’ Abbie was watching her too closely. As if she could see the need inside. No surprise there.
Suddenly the turmoil that had kept her busy doing unnecessary things that morning dropped away. ‘I’d love to. And for the record, I’m fine about it all.’ It was the truth, just not the whole truth.
‘I know. Just don’t push yourself too hard and fast to get up and running again. You’re going to be pummelled with emotions for a while, but I’m here, okay? We can talk any time, about anything.’
‘Someone else with nothing to keep their mind occupied but me and my problems.’ What was it with people today? Was this their way of looking out for her? To tell her what to do, and how and when?
‘Nixon giving you grief, was he? I couldn’t believe it when he turned up earlier. Then again, maybe I could.’
The downside of living next to each other was they both knew who their visitors were, what music they were listening to, and what was cooking on the stovetop. ‘Just as well for that woman he was here.’
‘You can say that again.’ Abbie shuddered. ‘That poor little boy was so scared. I hope he didn’t see his mother lying on the ground.’
‘Me too.’ Emma watched Grace feeding. ‘Sorry about the loud music. Hope I didn’t wake the baby. I was trying to distract myself.’
‘I guessed. Don’t worry, it wasn’t that loud. Maybe she’s going to be a rocker because she wasn’t fazed at all.’
‘I’ll move apartments before she’s old enough to know how to download tunes.’
‘Why did Nixon visit?’ Persistent. ‘It’s not like he ever has before.’
See? Abbie didn’t miss a thing. Two could play at that game. ‘Callum left for work early this morning.’
Abbie blushed. ‘He stayed the night—not that it was very restful with little miss making herself known every hour.’
‘Bet she wasn’t the only cause of lack of sleep,’ Emma retorted around a grin. ‘Did he get called in early?’
Abbie nodded. ‘There was an accident on Lake Wanaka. Two boats were racing and crashed into each other.’
‘Morons. No one ever thinks it’ll happen to them.’ In ED they’d seen and dealt with every scenario and nothing much surprised either of them. ‘I didn’t hear the helicopter.’ Callum was a paramedic on the rescue helicopter.
‘They came in while you were taking Rosie to meet up for her llama visit.’ Abbie lifted Grace from her breast and laid her over her shoulder for a back rub. Just like an old hand. ‘Nixon? Don’t think you can avoid my question.’
Hadn’t thought I could.
But she had given it her best shot, hoping Abbie had baby brain too. Got that wrong, hadn’t she? Bloodhound Abbie never dropped a question she was bursting to know the answer to, and Nixon’s visit was right up there. ‘He was checking up on me. Brought some pastries for lunch so I didn’t mind being looked in on.’
‘Oh, right. His phone wasn’t working, then. I hope you were nice and friendly.’
‘Why wouldn’t I be?’ Emma could feel her hackles rising. Down girl. This is Abbie, who says whatever she likes to you.
‘Because you need a man in your life, and who better than Nixon? He’s got everything a hot-blooded woman needs. At least I presume he does.’
‘I do not need a man. I do just fine alone. Okay, not alone. There’s Dad, Daniel and Shaun to annoy the heck out of me with all their checking and telling me how to run my life.’
Abbie grinned. ‘They’re not the sort of men I was thinking of. A man, as in sex and kisses and holding hands and—’
‘Shut up, Abbie, and give me Grace.’ Emma reached for the baby and hugged her carefully against her achy breasts. This time the ache didn’t bother her. Instead she felt right holding Grace and knowing she would be giving the cute little dot back to her mum shortly. Her hackles had returned to their normal position, quiet and submissive. ‘She’s gorgeous.’
‘Absolutely,’ Abbie sighed through her perpetual smile. ‘Do you think Nixon’s hot? Because if you don’t I’ll never mention him again in connection with you.’
She should’ve known Abbie hadn’t finished. ‘This is me you’re telling that ridiculous lie to.’
The smile widened. ‘So? Hot? Or not?’
The air limped out of her lungs. ‘Hot.’
‘Yes.’ Abbie punched the air. ‘I knew it.’
‘Don’t go there. Every female in Queenstown over the age of ten would agree with us. I am normal in that respect. Nothing’s going to happen between single mum me and Mr Uninvolved. Nixon’s devoted to his career and lives most of his life in ED. When he’s not there he’s outdoors on his bike. He’s not the type to drop by for a glass of wine.’ Except he’d sat on her deck an hour ago. ‘He doesn’t like knowing why people are upset or not coping with something.’ Yet he was always there when she needed help.
The more she said, the more Emma realised she’d nailed what was worrying her about him. She didn’t really know Nixon. He appeared to do the avoidance thing yet made his shoulder available whenever she needed it. More importantly, today he’d known exactly why she was so moody. Too easily, what was more. Leading her to see through that reserve he kept in place more often than not. Had Nixon let her closer than anyone else? Still not close enough to talk about what put that anguish in his gaze while trying to save the woman. What had that been about? He’d been shaken up badly, off the Richter scale. All she’d wanted was to hold him until that pain and desperation disappeared.
Get real, Emma. You’re looking for trouble. Tomorrow, or next week, or next month, when your hormones are back in place, you’ll recall this and have a bloody good laugh for being so naïve.
Fingers crossed.
Abbie screwed up her nose. ‘Won
der why he does keep himself aloof more than most people. Look at that three-date rule he’s supposed to have. It’s kind of strange when he can be social and always keeps tabs on his staff if there’s something going on in their lives that’s causing problems. No denying he holds a piece of himself back. An important piece, I reckon.’
Grace blew a bubble and Emma gently wiped the goo away. She was so cute. Time to change the subject. ‘Thanks for understanding. I will move on, still hang around, and try not to watch you like a hawk over how you’re doing with Grace.’
‘You don’t think I know that?’ Abbie came and wrapped her arms around Emma and her daughter. ‘Silly woman.’
‘I’ve had some doubts over the past months,’ Emma admitted.
‘Knew that too.’
‘Know-it-all.’ Emma relaxed totally for the first time since Grace’s arrival. There’d be days when she struggled with letting go but with Abbie being so understanding she’d make it through the murky patches. She would.
Nixon had made a valid point though. She shouldn’t rush the process; she needed to deal with errant hormones and emotions as they arose, not tease them into existence and then get upset because she couldn’t beat them into submission.
Abbie had more to say. Nothing new there. ‘You’re so generous of spirit to those of us you hold in your heart. You’d do anything for us. Carrying my baby was never going to be a stroll in the park but you did it, and did it graciously.’ Abbie wiped the back of her hand over her eyes. ‘If Alvin hadn’t done all those hideous things to you and you hadn’t had my shoulder to cry on, do you think you’d have given me Grace?’
‘Of course I would’ve.’ Emma paused, thought about it some more. ‘I might not have known to make the offer, because I wouldn’t have understood the pain of never having something I’d grown up always believing would be my right. But I would’ve said yes if you’d asked.’
‘See? You gave me Michael’s baby when I couldn’t carry a baby to term. I love you to bits but the love you thought you’d have with Alvin, that raising kids and growing older together love, the thing you believed was your right, didn’t happen. You understand loss.’
Where was Abbie going with this? She didn’t have to wait long to find out.
‘Nixon won’t hurt you. I’d swear to that.’
‘You’re forgetting, I never pegged Alvin for the monster he turned out to be. Nor did you.’