Miracle In March (15 page)

‘What?'

‘I wouldn't want any other child but him.'

Emma's chest rose with a quick breath, and she threaded her fingers together as her elbows rested on her knees.

‘The only thing I ever wished was that you were his mother.' James swivelled towards her, took her hand in his. It trembled, and he steadied it with a rub of his thumb.

Their gaze broke and she looked at the ground. ‘After the operation, I started believing that maybe I wasn't meant to be a mother, and that's why it happened. It was fate's way of telling me “forget it, girl, this gig ain't for you”. I spent so long convinced of that fact, but now…' she looked back into his eyes. ‘Now, I ache to feel that kind of love for a child. To be a parent. I still want it, I just don't know if it will be the same. Can I love someone else's child as much as I would have loved my own?'

‘Of course you would. Parenting is more than genes. Stacey is proof of that. She carried the child for nine months and feels nothing. But you, you
feel
. You feel for everyone, You're the most loving, kind-hearted person I know.' He ran his finger across her cheek, hot from the sun.

She took her cap off and placed it on the sand, then checked her watch. ‘I have to go back soon.'

Had he gone too far? He hoped she didn't think he was trying to find a mother for Jackson, he only meant that she would be a great mother to anyone.

‘Do you have to get back to Jackson?'

‘Soon. But I'm going to have one more swim.' James got up and stretched. Maybe the deep and meaningful was over. Emma stood and walked with him to the shoreline. ‘Well, enjoy. I guess I'll head back.' She gestured over her shoulder.

He wanted to see her smiling face again, wanted to lift her spirits. ‘You mean you're not coming in with me?'

She raised her eyebrows. ‘I'm in work clothes, I —'

James kicked at the wave rolling into the shore and splashed her with water.

‘Hey!' she stepped back.

‘What? It's only water, it'll dry.' He splashed her again.

A vengeful smile transformed her face and she kicked the water and splashed him back.

‘Oh c'mon, is that all you've got?' He splashed her again and she held out her hands and turned her head as water landed on her face.

She stepped into the water, her rolled-up pants tinged with dark patches at the hem, then reached down and lifted a large splash onto his face. ‘Take that, hot-shot.' She grinned.

‘Hot-shot? I'll give you hot-shot.' He slid one arm behind her back and one under her knees, lifting her off the ground.

She squealed. ‘Put me down!'

He ignored her plea, waded into the water.

‘James! I'm in my work clothes!'

‘I'm sure you have a spare outfit to change into.'

‘But why would I —'

He released his hands. Splash! She dropped into the water, flailing about and squealing. ‘Oh you!' She got up and charged at him, pushing him backwards into the water, her body falling with his.

‘Now you're just causing trouble for yourself!' He laughed.

She splashed more water on top of him.

‘Ah, so refreshing, Thank you.' He basked in the salt water as it splashed and sprayed around him. Emma gave him a slap on the arm.

‘Be honest, you're having fun, right?'

She narrowed her eyes, but her smile gave him her answer. ‘I didn't even bring a towel, I'll have to walk back to the office a sopping wet mess!'

‘I've got one.' James gestured to the shore. ‘But only one. You'll have to fight me for it.'

They stood face to face in the waist-deep water, eyes glaring, until Emma eyed the towel up on the sand, then made a dash for it. James chased, lifting his knees high to manoeuvre out of the water, laughing and running with her across the sand.

He got to it first and held it up in the air. ‘First in, best dressed!'

‘Hand it over, JJ,' she said, and they paused for a moment.

That's what she used to call him.

‘Sorry,' he teased, wrapping the towel around his back.

‘I know some karate.' She raised her arms and one leg in a fighting position, ready to pounce, and he laughed. He bet she didn't really know karate, but then again, who knew what else had happened in the last five years.

He ran his gaze over her glossy face, hair stuck to her neck, and her wet clothes moulded to her curves. She was beyond beautiful, and as she stood there in
Karate Kid
pose, utterly adorable.

James opened up the towel so that it spread out behind him like wings. ‘There's room for two in here.' He stepped close to her.

She stiffened, hesitated, and he worried he'd gone too far. But then she stepped closer and he wrapped his arms and the towel around her, pulling her close to his body so that the towel completely enveloped them like a cocoon. What surprised him was that instead of taking the towel from him, she slid her arms around his wet back, under the towel, and hugged him. He moved the towel across her back and rubbed at her wet shirt, her hair, and touched the corner of the towel to her cheek. Then he unwrapped the towel from his body and wrapped it completely around her. ‘Take it. I've got another one at the cabin.'

Emma held the edges of the towel underneath her chin as she smiled, stepped backwards a few steps, then turned away to walk back to work.

He realised in that moment that, unlike the towel, there was only one Emma. And he would like nothing more than to have her wrapped around him.

Emma scurried around the playground towards the reception office, hoping no one would notice her clothes were soaking wet beneath James' towel.

Damn.
She turned briefly, remembering she'd left her cap on the beach.
Stuff it, I'll get it later.
She was about to enter the office when Bob appeared behind her with a sandwich in his hand.

‘Hey, forget your swimming costume?'

Her cheeks warmed. ‘I was just wading a little in the water but, um, there was a big wave, and…' She glanced down at her dripping body.

‘Looks pretty calm out there to me,' he replied. ‘Also looks enticing, maybe I'll cool off with a dip after work. Water nice?'

‘Very. It'll be cooler later though, maybe you should have one now.'

‘Nah, almost done with lunch, gotta get back to work or the boss might fire me.' He winked, meaning her.

‘But what if the woman of your dreams is down at the beach right now and by waiting, you two will never meet and you'll spend the rest of your life searching for each other?' She smiled.

He glanced towards the ocean. ‘Bugger. Now I'm torn.'

‘Take a swim if you want, Bob. The boys will hold down the fort for another fifteen minutes I'm sure.'

‘But won't I get a stomach ache if I swim after eating?' He chuckled.

‘That's an old wives' tale.'

‘Speaking of wives, if my dream woman
is
down there I'll just have to trust that she'll walk past the construction site afterwards. Destiny and all that.'

‘My mother would believe in that, for sure. And you never know. If I see any suitable women I'll send them your way.' She winked back and unlocked the door to reception. Then she realised she should change out of her clothes, so locked the door again, going instead to her cottage to get a new outfit.

When she was back at her desk, she opened the email inbox on her phone. She still hadn't replied to Jen's message. She reread it and tried to think of a reply.

How are you feeling about it now? What happens now? Are you going to spend some time with him?

Confused. I don't know. Yes.

Her answers formed in her mind, but she would need to elaborate. She typed in a reply and filled Jen in on how she'd spent some time with James already — lunch, the barbeque with the family, and splashing around on the beach and embracing in a towel. What would be next? Would there be a next?

Jen, my mind is racing. I feel like I don't deserve to know him again, to be with him again, after hurting him like I did. But he seems to have forgiven me, in fact, it's almost like old times. We're talking, laughing even, and he's telling me personal things about his life. What do you think he wants? Just to make amends while he's here and then go our separate ways when he leaves in three days? I'm confused, I'm hopeful, I'm scared, all at once. He's not just James anymore, he's James and Jackson — a package deal. It's not something to take lightly.

I did realise something though: I still love him.

What am I going to do?

I've come up with three reasons why it's a bad idea to get involved with him again:

1. I was about to go travelling! I still want to. I can't start a relationship then disappear (again). And I can't expect him to hang around and wait for me to figure my life out (again).

2. I'm worried my deception will always hang over our heads, even though he says he understands.

3. What if I'm no good for Jackson? And what if James wants to have another child?

Maybe I should leave the past where it belongs, go overseas, and start fresh.

Emma hit ‘send', then checked for any work emails and updated the Facebook page with an enticing picture of a hammock strung between two trees, overlooking the beach. Her email pinged on her phone. A reply from Jen already?

Hey hun,

Quick reply as my kids are with the teacher's aide while I escaped to the bathroom. One of the darlings spilled paint on me. Such joy.

Anyway, if he's forgiven you, then quit worrying. Go with the flow. Enjoy reconnecting with him while he's there. And in response to your 3 objections:

1. If you still want to travel, then do it. Otherwise you'll regret it. If you're meant to be together, somehow it will all work out.

2. Though he won't forget about what you did to him, he also won't forget about why you did it. Worry is wasted energy.

3. I only know what you've told me about Jackson, but I can't imagine any woman who would be better for him than you. And future kids? Maybe he doesn't want any, or maybe he would be prepared to adopt.

Okay, here's what I think you should do…

The door to reception opened and Emma glanced up from her phone, feeling like a schoolgirl getting sprung for doing something naughty when she was supposed to be working.

‘You left this at the beach.' James held her cap in his hand.

Emma quickly closed her inbox.
Great timing!

‘Oops, thanks.' She stood.

James stepped forwards then glanced at one of the framed pictures on the counter top. ‘Nice drawing, is that by a local artist?'

Emma scratched her arm. ‘Um, actually, it's me. I did it.'

James' eyes widened. ‘I didn't know you could draw. How did I not know that?'

‘I used to do a bit when I was younger, but only got back into it a few years ago. I found it therapeutic.'

‘Do you have many completed drawings?' he asked, his wet hair dangling across his eyes.

She nodded. ‘Quite a few.'

‘You'll have to show me sometime, when you're not busy working.'

Was that an invitation? Did he really want to see her drawings or did he just want to see her?

‘That is, if you want to.'

‘No, yes, I mean I'd be happy to. They're not totally amazing or anything, but —'

‘How about tonight?' he said calmly.

‘Tonight?'

‘Yeah, you can do a little private art show for me.' He smiled. ‘Drop in whenever.'

Did that mean right after work, or dinner, after dinner?

‘And if it happens to be around dinnertime I've got it covered, Mum made some kind of one-pot-wonder with last night's leftovers.'

Could he read her mind?

‘But my parents are doing their own thing tonight, going out for a meal. So it'll just be us. And Jax.'

Emma wondered if perhaps this was some kind of test to see how she coped around Jackson the more time she spent with him. Was James sussing things out in case they resumed their relationship? She wished she'd had a chance to read Jen's advice before he came into the office and interrupted her emailing, in case it had crucial James Advice that would have been helpful to take into account.

‘Sounds good. I'm doing yoga after work but I'll pop over after that.' Boy, were things getting busy. She'd hardly had any time to herself this week.

‘Yoga aficionado
and
an artist. You're full of surprises.'

‘Oh, I'm definitely no aficionado. Haven't done yoga in a while so I'll probably fall flat on my face or pull a muscle!' She shifted her weight to the other foot and grasped her arm awkwardly.

‘I'll keep an icepack handy at the cabin.' He chuckled.

‘Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence.'

‘Best to be prepared. See you later.' He placed the cap upside down on the counter and walked out.

Emma lifted the cap and noticed something resting inside it. A seashell. The one James had used as the satellite dish on top of the sandcastle. Her fingers ran over the serrated surface, reminding her of the bumpy but beautiful ride their relationship had been.
Had
been. She held it to her ear, the vacuous whoosh filling her mind with memories of the past. Five and a half years. Where would she be and what would she be reminded of in another five and a half years if she held this shell to her ear again? Would this week be a distant memory, or the start of something new and wonderful?

Emma put the shell into her pocket. She'd put it next to the candle on her bedside table later on, and no matter what happened after this week, she vowed that the shell would serve as a reminder of forgiveness, understanding, and hope. If she never had James in her life again, at least she'd have that.