Just for Fun (10 page)

“Then we should get you dressed again, and back,” he
decided. “Because those are some of my favorite bits. I need to keep them in
good trim.”

She held onto him once they were back in shallow water,
steadied herself against him while she wrestled the sodden suit bottoms on,
then untwisted the bra top to put it on.

“One sec.” He put a big hand on either side of her ribcage,
ran his thumbs over the pink nipples, watched them harden, took one into his
mouth and gave it a gentle nip, then reluctantly let her go. “Just needed one
last bit of that, before you put them away. And you still owe me, you know.
Going to find a way to collect the full penalty, once we’re back. Get you
showered off, then show you what the price of losing really is.”

She was lost in the memory, heated by it, remembering what
the price of losing had been. Her shock when Nic had flipped her over on the
big bed and blindfolded her. The heightening of sensation that came with being
unable to see, not knowing what was coming next. Everything he’d done to her,
everything he’d had her do to him, his big, agile hands guiding her in her
blindness. The way he’d turned her, moved her, talked to her, giving her more
and more until she was limp, her body resonating with aftershocks, blissfully
spent. And how tenderly he’d kissed her, how closely he’d held her afterwards, while
she fell asleep.

She looked up, startled, at the appearance of one of the
rugby players. The game had broken up, she realized, blinking herself back to
the present and wiping the foolish, absent smile from her face.

“Hi.” He stood in front of her, shirt still off, a
reasonable chest of his own on display. Blue eyes, a good smile too. “Saw you
over here, looking lonely. Want to join us?”

“No, thanks.” She found herself responding to his friendly, ingenuous
charm. “I’m not alone, actually.” She gestured toward the play structure in the
distance. “Just waiting for the kids to be ready for our swim.”

“Minding them, are you?” he asked, still not clued in. He
sank down on the bench beside her and used the shirt slung over his shoulder to
towel his dark hair. Giving a fairly nice display of shoulders and back in the
process, she had to admit.

“Nope.”

“Mum!” Zack, racing toward her with the speed he’d inherited
from his father, easily outpacing Graham. “Can we swim now?”

The young man looked up, startled. Then back at Emma, eyes
doing a quick, obvious reassessment. He got to his feet again, pulled the
T-shirt on in haste. “Oh. Sorry. I didn’t realize . . .”

“No worries.” She smiled at him a bit sadly as Graham puffed
up next to Zack. “Have a good day.”

Too young for me anyway,
she reminded herself,
pulling out togs and towels and preparing for the trek to the changing rooms.
However young she looked on the outside—and she knew she appeared quite a bit
younger even than her 27 years—she’d left that carefree girl behind a long, long
time ago.

Emma held Zack tightly by the hand as they made their
way through the crowded Eden Park concourse and up the stairs to their entry
door. He was wearing his prized Blues T-shirt, with a warm jumper over it in
deference to the chill of the late April evening.

“I wish I had a Blues jersey,” he’d sighed earlier as she’d
pulled the thick sweater over his head. “Or a hoodie, at least. I could’ve worn
it outside my jumper, so everyone could see. D’you think all the other kids
will have jerseys?”

“Not everyone can afford that,” she reminded him. “They’re
awfully expensive, remember? We’re lucky to go tonight, though, aren’t we?”

“Yeh!” he agreed, the jersey forgotten for the moment. He
fidgeted as she grabbed her own jacket and reached for her ankle boots. “C’mon,
Mum. We’re going to miss it!”

“We aren’t going to miss it,” she promised. “Plenty of
time.” She pulled on one boot, reached for the other. One heel had a bad scuff,
she saw with disgust. When had
that
happened? She hobbled into the
kitchen and grabbed a Sharpie from the mug on the bench, colored the mark in
with a few quick strokes. That was the good thing about black, she thought in
satisfaction as she pulled the boot on and looked at it from above. Nothing
visible from here. And nobody was going to be studying her feet that closely.

“Mum,” Zack wailed. “Hurry.”

They
were
well in time, she thought gratefully
forty-five minutes later, searching for their row near midfield of the big
stadium. Being on time wasn’t always her best thing, but she hadn’t wanted Zack
to miss the sight and sound of Nic being announced, running onto the field. So
she’d made a special effort, scuffed boot and all.

“Row 54,” she said at last. “This is us.” They edged into
the row, murmuring their “Sorrys” as polite spectators stood or pulled legs
aside for them. There would be other kids around, she saw. And lots of them
did
seem to be wearing jerseys, including the girls. Well, Nic had said there
would be some players’ families here tonight. Although not his fiancée. She
wasn’t able to make it. Emma felt a fresh surge of relief not to have to meet
her right now, though she wondered at the same time why his girlfriend wouldn’t
be at a home game. Surely that came with the territory?

His love life is not your business,
she reminded
herself once again.
Just forget that part of it.
So hard to do, though,
when she kept seeing him again, the coiled-spring way he still moved reminding
her all too clearly of the past. How he’d looked. How he’d been. Wondered if he
were doing all the things they’d done together with his fiancée.

Of course he is.
But
she
hadn’t. Had never
done anything so exciting again. Her sex life since Zack, such as it was, had
been pretty vanilla in contrast.

Stop thinking about your sex life. And his.
It was
anticipating watching him play that was doing it, she supposed. She shifted her
attention back to the present, smiled at her neighbor as she found their seats
at last.
The woman, a pretty blonde with a beanie pulled over her long
hair, smiled back at her in friendly welcome.

“You must be Emma,” the blonde said. “And this must be Zack.
Nic’s good mate, I hear. I’m Hannah Callahan. Nic told me he had some special
friends coming tonight. He asked me to look out for you.”

Emma looked at her in surprise. She’d been grateful for the
tickets that had kindled such a light in Zack’s eyes when Nic had produced them
over their hamburgers as a bonus prize for enduring the blood test on
Wednesday. But she’d certainly never expected this kind of greeting.  “Thanks.
That’s awfully nice of you. You’re Drew’s partner, right?”  

“Wife.” Hannah’s warm, rueful smile took any sting out of
the correction. “I just can’t get used to that ‘partner’ thing. It makes me
feel like we’re in a business deal. But you know what I mean. Nic said you were
American too.”

“Mum used to be,” Zack offered. “But now she’s a Kiwi, same
as me.”

“We’re all Kiwis now, aren’t we?” Hannah replied cheerfully.
“I have a Kiwi boy at home myself. Too little to enjoy the game, though. Are
you a Blues supporter?”

“Yeh,” Zack told her earnestly. “They’re my most favorite
team. Except the All Blacks.”

“My sentiments exactly,” Hannah assured him. From the wife
of the Blues and All Blacks captain, Emma could well believe it.

“Who’re you talking to?” A statuesque woman with classical
Maori features peered around Hannah. “Hi.” She held out a hand to Emma. “Reka
Ranapia.”

Emma introduced herself, then Zack. “That’s going to be
boring for you, Zack, down the end like that,” Reka told him. “Scoot over here
and sit with the rest of the kids. Shift down, Emma.”

“We all do what Reka says,” Hannah laughed as Zack hurried
to obey and she and Emma moved over in their turn.

“I’m not bossy. I just have good ideas,” Reka grinned.

“That you do,” Hannah agreed. “I love your sweater, Emma.
And Zack’s as well.” She reached out to finger the heavy wool, the variegated
shades of gray interspersed with white in a design of lightning bolts that had
delighted Zack, as the boy squeezed past her. “Where’d you get this? And your
own?”

“I made them,” Emma told her, feeling a bit shy. She had
decided to wear her own pale blue sweater tonight, with its dark blue trim, for
obvious reasons. She might not have a jersey, but she could still wear the team
colors. And her sweater was prettier than any jersey.

“Really,” Hannah said, impressed. She turned to look at
Zack’s sweater again. “I love that pattern. Exactly like a stormy sky. Where’d
you find it?”

“I made it up,” Emma said. “That’s my hobby, knitting.
Designing knits, mostly. Once I start working on the actual garment, I just
want to hurry up and finish it so I can start the next thing.”

“Oh, no,” Reka groaned.

“Sorry,” Emma said in embarrassed confusion. “Is this
boring?”

“Reka knows she’s just heard the last of me,” Hannah smiled.
“Because you’re in my territory now.”

“No worries,” Reka sighed. “I’ll just talk to Jenna and
Kate. We’ll look after Zack, Emma. Got heaps of kids over here.”

Emma thanked her, then turned her attention back to Hannah.
“What do you mean?” she asked. “Your territory?”

“I work for 2
^nd
Hemisphere,” Hannah told her.
“The merino firm.”

“I know who they are, of course,” Emma said. “And I
remember, now, that that’s what you do. I’m jealous. I love merino, though I
can’t afford the yarn.”

“Well,” Hannah said, scooting a bit closer and putting out a
hand to touch the lace pattern of Emma’s sweater. She bent closer to examine
the crocheted edge. “I have a new venture with them, my own idea that I’ve been
working on for a couple years now.”

“The maternity wear thing?” Emma asked. “I saw the interview
you did, last year. I loved the clothes. I wish I’d had them, when I was
pregnant.” They’d have been beyond her budget, although, she thought
practically, they’d last through several pregnancies. The breathable,
lightweight, extra-soft wool was perfect for maternity wear, cool in summer,
warm in winter.

“Don’t tell, but I’m planning on doing another of those,”
Hannah told her. “I want to get a couple of my friends to model, this time.
Reka’s expecting again, and Jenna Douglas is too. And the marketer in me can’t
help but think about the airtime we could get with that. But I haven’t alerted
them yet. I don’t want to give them any time to think up excuses.”

“But that isn’t the latest,” she continued. “We’re working
now on a new line. Kids’ things. For boys too, but mostly for girls.”

Emma’s eyes lit up with excitement. “Merino kids’ wear. Oh,
how fun. Skirts,” she thought aloud. “Cardigans. Ooh. Stripes, and ruffles at
the edges.”

“Exactly. Do you work in design?”

Emma laughed. “Not the kind you mean. CAD.”

“But we do that,” Hannah said. “That’s how we produce our
designs. In CAD.”

“Really?”

“What kind of CAD do you do?”

“Engineering,” Emma told her ruefully.

“Is that your field, then?”

“Not by preference,” Emma admitted. “But it’s what I’ve been
doing, since I left University.”

“Well, let’s talk more another time,” Hannah said. “If
you’ll be bringing Zack to more games. Because I’d love to get your thoughts.
But we can’t do it now, because here we go.”

Nic dropped his bag in the entryway the following Sunday,
then thought again and took it upstairs to the bedroom. It would make Claudia
happier to have it out of the way. And he didn’t need to give her any extra
agro just now.

Where
was
she, anyway? He finally ran her to ground
in the exercise room, where she was riding the bike, headphones on. She pulled
them off when she saw him, reached for the hand towel and wiped herself down.
He went to her and gave her a kiss.

“Hi,” she said with real warmth, returning the kiss with
more enthusiasm than she’d shown him these past couple weeks. “Welcome home. Everything
go OK? You looked good last night. Sorry about the loss, though.”

“Thanks. A bit sore,” he admitted. “The Crusaders were
fizzing. Couldn’t lift to match them. We’re still top of the ladder, but it’s
got a wee bit too close for comfort.”

“You can have a quiet day today, anyway. I’ve got nothing
on, either.”

He pulled her off the bike, kissed her again. “Hope you
won’t, have anything on that is. Because I’ve missed you.”

He hated to spoil the mood that afternoon, but on the other
hand, this could be the perfect time to discuss the future, while they were
feeling close, the bond tight again. “I got the blood test results back,
Friday,” he told her as they relaxed on the couch, her feet in his lap, the
Herald
on Sunday
spread out between them.

And that was the mood spoilt, just as he’d feared. She
pulled her feet away, sat upright and set the paper aside. “And?”

“No surprises. He’s mine.” He’d been changing after the
Captain’s Run at the stadium in Christchurch on Friday, had pulled out his mobile
to see his doctor’s text. His heart had skipped a beat, and it had seemed like
an age till he was alone, could ring Frank back to get the word. It had felt
momentous despite the certainty he’d have said he’d felt before. The biggest
shock had been the relief.

A relief that Claudia clearly didn’t share. She let out her
breath on a long sigh. “Not the news you were hoping for, eh,” he said with a
wry smile.

“It certainly does make life more complicated,” she
admitted. “What does Oliver say?”

“Haven’t had a chance to ring him yet. But it’s just a
matter of filing the papers now, I reckon.”

“That’s it, then,” Claudia said with a little nod. “Get it
done, budget for that, and move on.”