Just for Fun (34 page)

He shrugged with frustration. “I’m not saying this right. What
I’m trying to say is, I like being with you. I like the way you look, the way
you smell, the things you talk about. You remind me about that other side. And
you make me feel good.”

She reached up for him, pulled him down for a soft kiss.
“I’m glad. Because you make me feel good, too.”

“D’you remember?” he asked while he was still holding her
close, late that night. “When I told you I loved you, in Fiji?”

“Yes,” she said simply, lifting her head from his chest to
look up at him. “I remember.”

“I thought I know what that meant, then,” he said slowly.
“How much I loved being with you, making love with you. How you made me laugh,
made everything so much fun. Turns out I didn’t have a clue.”

“What do you mean?”

“If I’d felt then the way I feel now, I’d never have been
able to leave you the way I did. Because it’s so much more than that, isn’t it?”
He stopped, went on again slowly. “It’s wanting to hang the wallpaper border
for you, hold you when you cry. Having something funny happen at training, and
thinking, I need to tell you about that. Wanting to come back to you when I’m
gone.”

“Bloody hell,” he finished in exasperation. “I can never say
what I mean. And this would be a good time to tell me you love me too.” He
scowled down at her. “I’m twisting in the wind here.”

She reached out to trace those curved lines at the side of
his mouth. Lines that had been faint, back then. Were etched into his skin now
by time, and work, and the countless hours of training in the sun and wind, and
smiling. Smiling, most of all.

“Of course I love you,” she said, her eyes shining with
tears. “I did then, and I’ve never stopped. And you said it just fine. You said
it perfectly. But it was more selfish back then for me too. You’re right about
that. Some of what I thought was love, was me looking for someone to . . . prop
me up. To keep me from having to grow up by myself in the scary world. Maybe to
keep from having to grow up at all. And now I know I can be in the scary world
by myself, if I have to. But it’s so much better with you.”

“And if I haven’t told you,” she finished, “well, that’s
because the boy’s supposed to say it first. Everybody knows that. But I love
you, and I’ll tell you so. And I need to hear it from you too, if you can
manage it.”

“I can manage it,” he promised. “To love you, and to tell
you I do too. Count on me for that.”

“Sorry I wasn’t ready,” Emma apologized, stuffing a
final pair of shoes into her suitcase and fastening the zip. “I had a little
trouble getting dressed.”

“Needed help, did you?” Nic asked. “Pity I wasn’t here,
then.”

She laughed. “You’re not the least bit helpful when I’m
putting clothes
on
, and you know it. But seriously. Is this OK, for
meeting your parents?”

He inspected the flouncy little flowered skirt, fine-knit
cardigan, and tights that she was wearing with her low boots. “It works for
me,”
he said. “Makes me want to unfasten some buttons.” He reached for the
sweater.

She slapped his hand away. “That’s
not
the reaction
I’m hoping for,” she complained, a smile trying to escape her would-be stern
expression. “Does it look . . . suitable?”

“Yeh,” he said. “It looks suitable. You look pretty. I can’t
help it that everything you wear makes me want to undress you.”

“All right,” she said, blowing out a nervous breath and
smoothing a hand down her side. “Zack, baby!” She ran lightly up the stairs,
calling to him. “Time to go!”

“Are you ready, Mum?” Zack asked, coming down the staircase
holding the banister with one hand, his Lego T-Rex in the other. “All the way
ready?”

Nic laughed. “I think she’s ready at last. C’mon, mate. Help
me get this stuff to the car. You take this bag of . . . whatever this is, and
I’ll do my best to stagger out with your mum’s suitcase. Good thing I’ve done
some training.”

“It’s wine,” Emma cautioned, unable to keep from laughing
herself. “In the bag. So be careful, sweetie. And some chocolates as well. It’s
all I could think of to bring for your mum, Nic.”

“She’ll love them,” Nic assured her, hefting her suitcase
with a groan that had Zack giggling.

“Is your dad really my grandpa?” Zack asked from the back
seat when they were on the motorway.  “My
real
grandpa?”

“Yeh,” Nic assured him. “And my mum’s your granny, too.”

“I already have a grandpa and grandma, though,” Zack pointed
out. “So how can they be, too?”

“Everyone has two sets, baby,” Emma explained. “Your mum’s
parents, and your dad’s parents, remember?”

“Oh,” Zack said. “Because Nic’s my dad?”

“Yeh,” Nic said with a smile for his son in the rear-view
mirror. “That’s it.”

“We were expecting you an hour ago,” were the first words
out of George’s mouth when they arrived in Tauranga two hours later, both Nic’s
parents hurrying out of the house at the sound of the Toyota pulling into the
driveway.

“My fault, I’m afraid,” Emma said. Nic gave his mum a quick
kiss, then went to pull out their bags.

“Hi,” Emma said, holding out her hand with a sunny smile.
“I’m Emma, and this guy here is Zack.”

Nic’s mother took her hand in both her own and gave it a
warm squeeze. “I’m so glad you’re here. I’m Ellen, and Nic’s dad is George. But
you knew that, didn’t you?” She laughed. “Sorry. I’m so excited, I barely know
what I’m saying.” She bent over, her hands on her knees, and smiled at Zack.
“D’you know who I am?” she asked him. “I’m your granny! And do you know, you
have such a look of your dad, when he was a little boy. I’ve got a photo of him
that’s so like you, you wouldn’t believe it!”

“I brought his baby book,” Emma told her. “Nic thought you
might like to see it.”

“Wasn’t that thoughtful of you,” Ellen said, her pleasure
evident. “I’ll love having a look at that. I’ll pull out those old photos of
Nic, and we can compare them.”

“Not the one of me naked in the bath, Mum,” Nic said with
exaggerated pain.

“Oh, we
especially
want to see that,” Emma said.
“Don’t we, Zack?”

He giggled and nodded, and Ellen laughed again. “Come on
into the house, then,” she urged. “We’ll have a lovely cup of tea, and get to
know one another properly.”

His mother was a much safer landing spot for Zack than his
dad, Nic thought with relief as he carried their suitcases inside. “We’ve put
you in your old room, of course, Nic,” his mother explained. “And we’ve popped
Emma and Zack into Dan’s bedroom, as it has the two beds.”

Nic caught Emma’s eye behind his mother’s back and made a
disappointed face that had her stifling a laugh in response. “Better plan on
sleepwalking tonight,” he murmured in her ear.

“When you’re settled, come out and give me a hand with the
garden, why don’t you,” George suggested.

“I don’t mind,” Nic said with relief. Working with his dad
was the most congenial way to spend time with him, he’d long found.

“You two do that,” Ellen said. “Emma and Zack are going to
come have a chat with me while I make a pudding for tonight. And maybe you’ll
want to lick the bowl for me, eh,” she told Zack with a conspiratorial smile.

“Yeh!” Zack agreed enthusiastically. “That’s my favorite!
What kind of pudding will it be?”

“Sticky date. Because that’s your
dad’s
favorite. Come
into the kitchen with me and help me get started, then.”

“When’s Dan coming?” Nic asked his dad, heaving Emma’s
suitcase onto one bed and dropping Zack’s little satchel onto the other.

“Dinnertime,” George replied in some disgust. “I asked him
to come by earlier and give me a hand, but he’s off somewhere with a mate.”

“Good job I’m here, then,” Nic said. “And you’re not allowed
to run off with my brother,” he told Emma. “Because he’s the handsome one.”

“I think I already know which one I like better,” she said,
smiling back at him.

“Good. I’m holding you to that. You OK if I leave you with
my mum for a bit?” he asked, taking hold of one of her curls and rubbing it
between his fingers.

“Your mum doesn’t seem too scary. You go ahead and help your
dad. I’ll be fine.”

He gave her a quick kiss and reluctantly left her to it.
“What did you have in mind?” he asked his father when they were in the big,
neatly arranged garage.

“Time to cultivate the vegie garden,” George said. “I
borrowed Geoff Harris’s tiller for the weekend. Hope you’ve brought your work
boots.”

“Yeh, I did. Let me get them out of the ute. I’ll be glad of
the loan of a pair of gloves, though.”

One thing you could say about his dad, Nic decided a few
minutes later, having hauled the rototiller into the garden and looking over
the vegetable bed, he did keep a tidy garden. The expanse of grass extended
into the neighbors’ plots on either side, which had given him plenty of room to
practice kicking as a kid, but the row of hedges at the back was as neat and
regular as ever. Closer to the house, trees, ferns, and flax plants existed in
harmony with the rhododendrons and azaleas his mother loved.

He bent his attention to his task, setting the choke and starting
up the heavy tiller, enjoying the exertion of working his way down the length
of the plot and back again. Meanwhile, his dad took the wheelbarrow and hauled
bags of soil amendments from the shed, began to rip them open and distribute
the contents over the areas Nic had tilled in preparation for the second go.

They worked in harmony for an hour or so, conversation brief
and limited by the roar of the machine. Finally, though, Nic pulled it to the
side of the big plot and shut it down. His dad handed him a hand cultivator,
and they set to work breaking down the larger dirt clods left by the machine.

“Looks like you’re getting on well with Zack these days,”
his dad said after they had worked in silence for a while.

“Yeh. They’ve both been staying with me, whenever I’m home.
And they’re nice to come home to, I’ll tell you that.”

“Seems like you got involved with Emma pretty fast, after
the break with Claudia,” his dad pointed out.

“A month or so,” Nic agreed, willing himself to stay calm.
“But then, I fell in love with Emma a long time ago. Falling in love again
wasn’t too hard at all.”

“I can see she’s a good time,” George said. “But it takes
more than that, you know.”

Nic had never come closer to hitting his father. He turned away,
walked a few steps toward the back of the garden, still clutching the
cultivator. Stood staring unseeingly at that neatly trimmed hedge, took some
deep breaths, deliberately loosened his grip on the tool. And finally turned to
face George again.

“If you ever say something like that again,” he told his
father, his voice quiet, “that’s the last you’ll see of me.”

“What?” George asked in genuine surprise. “Just trying to
give you the benefit of my experience.”

“I’ve had more experience than you could even dream of,” Nic
told him bluntly. “I sure as hell don’t need the benefit of yours.”

“You’ve gone potty on this girl, that’s what it is,” George
argued. “I would’ve thought that by now, you’d know how to avoid the ones
who’re looking for a sportsman with a bit of lolly. Now, Claudia—”

“I think I know which of the two of them was more interested
in my money, and what being with me could do for her,” Nic said, his expression
hard. “Who wanted to be taken to flash restaurants. Who insisted I buy that
house that’s too big for me, then spent all that money doing it up. Who walked
out on me the minute she was asked to front up, as soon as things stopped being
comfortable. So don’t talk to me about gold-diggers,” he said, talking straight
over his father’s attempt to interrupt. “Because my experience in that area is
the same as in the other. A hell of a lot more than yours.”

They’d finished the rest of the job in silence, Nic glad of
the opportunity to take his frustration and anger out on the dirt clods. But
even the largest garden plot eventually got tilled. His father made a few gruff
remarks as they put the tools away, and Nic went inside to shower and change,
then sought refuge in the kitchen with the rest of his family.

Fortunately, Dan put in an appearance before too long and,
as always, his easy, laughing presence helped dissipate the tension between his
father and older brother. Nic found himself relaxing over dinner, encouraged to
share stories about training in rugby-mad Argentina and playing before the raucously
enthusiastic crowd in La Plata.

“I looked up when we came out of the tunnel,” he said with a
grin. “And I saw all these blokes holding oranges. I thought, good on them for
eating such healthy snacks. Didn’t realize they meant to chuck them at us.”

“They
threw
them at you?” Emma asked with shock.

“Didn’t hit us,” Nic said. “Splattered around a bit, that’s
all. But they’re good buggers. They support their own team, and they’re
passionate about it. They could give a few lessons to those polite En Zed
crowds. But all the same, they stood up and gave us an ovation for our
performance when we came off the field. They’ve been chuffed to play in the Rugby
Championship, to get the chance to lift their own game. And they may not be at
the top level yet,” he said seriously, “but you discount them at your peril. They’ll
give a good account of themselves at the World Cup. Because they play, like
they say?” He thumped his chest with a fist.
“Con corazón.”

“Emma and I’ll do the washing-up, Mum,” he said when his
mother stood at the end of the meal to clear plates. “Least I will,” he said
with a glance at Emma. “Maybe I shouldn’t be volunteering you, eh.”

“Of course you should,” she smiled back at him.