Without You I Have Nothing (7 page)

BOOK: Without You I Have Nothing
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Early the following
morning Peter eagerly knocked at Jennifer’s door. He knew that 7 o'clock was
far too early and he realized his actions were not only unusual but also
inconsiderate. Yet he was determined to see this beautiful young woman again. He
couldn’t help himself!  His need to see her overruled his common sense.

After a long pause,
while Jennifer inspected him through the peephole, the door was wrenched open.

“What do you think
you're doing?”  Wearing a pale green dressing gown, with her hair tousled and
her face showing that she had awakened from a deep sleep, Jennifer glared
angrily at him, her hands on her hips. “Are you mad?  Don’t you know what time
it is?”

Even the yellow roses
thrust into her hand did nothing to calm the fire in those eyes. This Ice
Maiden was furious.

Stuttering and
stammering, retreating before her outrage Peter regretted the crazy idea that
had brought him there.

“Well, speak up.”

Peter could only
stammer and mumble.

“Come in. It’s far
too cool to stand out here talking.”  As she pulled the door fully open, her
dressing gown swung back to give a tantalizing glimpse of nightwear and bare
legs. Jennifer must have noticed Peter’s reaction as she quickly added, “and
don’t get any funny ideas. I want to know what you think you’re doing. I demand
an explanation and then you're on your way, mister.”

The shaggy bear, that
was Peter, lumbered after her muttering his gruff apologies. “I'm sorry. I
didn’t realize it was so early. I only came to help you with your shopping.”

What had been a sweet
idea had suddenly turned very sour. “I really am sorry!  I...”

“Oh, no you're not.” 
The chill in her voice showed she was not interested in his excuses.

Denying him any
further glimpse of her nightwear and legs by firmly holding her dressing gown
in place she flounced onto the settee. “You planned all this, believing I’d be
swept off my feet.”  Pulling her pink envelope from her pocket, she spread the
contents on the coffee table. “You even thought you could buy me,” and her lips
curled back in distaste.

Drawing himself up to
his full height and red of face, angrily he tried to think of a way through her
accusation as he glared at her. He knew that he couldn’t and wouldn’t accept
that accusation from anyone let alone this beautiful young woman who was
recoiling from his anger. Sinking into a chair as if his legs would no longer
support him he allowed his voice to lash out whipping across her thoughts. “That
pink envelope is an Ang Pow given freely to wish someone good luck. It’s full
of new money. Last night was Chinese New Year, heralding the beginning of the
Year of the Golden Dragon. Chinese Custom has it that the recipient of the Ang
Pow acquires considerable wealth and good luck in the forthcoming year, yet you
have the audacity to insult me saying I was buying you.

“Was I also buying
everyone at the meal last night?  Thanks for the insult. That is something I
would have considered beneath the dignity of the wonderful lady I had the
pleasure of escorting last night.”

Feeling utterly miserable,
Jennifer recoiled from the angry heat of his eyes.

“I had a most
enjoyable night and now this!”  He was livid.

“You're absolutely,
bloody unbelievable. I just can’t believe your accusation.”  Peter shook his
head before continuing. “Now, as for me planning all this... That’s rubbish! 
I'm no thinker. I'm just trying to be friendly with no ulterior motive.”

What else could Peter
say?

Jennifer said nothing.
She was immovable.

Obviously, Jennifer
was ignoring his words. She watched silently, absolutely bewildered by the
vehemence of his response, hoping she could do something to make the redness in
Peter’s eyes soften and return to their sparkling blue.

So forceful was his
anger she was frightened.

“All right, I’ll
admit it. I wanted to see you this morning but there’s no crime in that. I'm
not a leper you know, although I’ve lived with a few of those.”  Peter was
infuriated.

“I could’ve slept in
and not been subject to all this nonsense. You're new in Sydney, by yourself,
and you had a miserable time last night so I came here, trying to make amends. Stupidly,
I believed I could be of some help and take you shopping but obviously, I made
a mistake. The yellow roses say friendship, which I had hoped to build on, but,
foolish me, I didn’t realize that was not a possibility.”

Peter hauled himself
out of his chair and immediately Jennifer was reminded of just how big he was.

“Well, thanks for
last night. If nothing else, I can truthfully say I really enjoyed your company
and you made the night for me. I am not exaggerating when I state that was one
of the happiest nights of my whole life, only made possible by you.

Turning, he marched
to the door and, as he opened it, he whirled around on her with his final
words.

“I'm no boy although
you seem to think I am. I'm a man, proud of my manhood and I'm especially proud
that you allowed me to escort you last night. For that, I thank you. I won’t
bother you again. Perhaps we’ll meet again - at least I - I certainly hope so.”

Peter’s shoulders
drooped. He was beaten as he turned to the door.

“I'm sorry for the
intrusion.”

“Peter, come back and
sit down.”  Jennifer looked stricken, so small and fragile as she began to cry.
Almost against her will, the tears ran as she looked down at her fingers
clasped in her lap. “It’s just... It’s just...”

Searching for words
as she gasped for breath through her tears, she peered at Peter trying to
detect a change in his demeanor. To him it seemed as if she was peeping up from
under her long lashes using all her womanly wiles.

“I'm sorry, but I'm
so defensive. I can’t help it.”

Suddenly the
realization crashed into his consciousness that she had no idea of Chinese New
Year. Just because he had been Chinese educated, he expected this fragile young
woman to know Chinese Customs. She had not been insulting. She was unknowing of
the Chinese ways.

His eyes returned to
their normal blue and he began to chortle much to Jennifer’s consternation.

Staring at her, Peter
realized with a shock that Jennifer was, in fact, considerably more like him than
he could have guessed. Suddenly he realized that under her hard shell was a
passionate woman who wanted appreciation and love.

Just knowing this was
enough to give him a complete change of heart.

Clearly, she needed
him – needed someone strong who would protect her and sweep her away from the
things that troubled her. His heart smiled. Obviously, a man like him could
sweep her off her feet, so why not do something about it now – literally!

Jennifer shrieked as
Peter swooped down low towards her, catching her in his arms and throwing her
into the air before bringing her down again and sitting her in his lap, his
arms holding her tightly. Gently he stroked her hair, quietly reassuring her.

“You need never be
defensive with me. I’ll never harm you.”  He chanted the words like a Buddhist
mantra as he continued stroking her hair.

Jennifer laughed
through her tears, her feelings becoming calmer now within the safety of
Peter’s warm and safe embrace. On the other hand, was he harmless?  She felt
his hot breath against her neck and looked up at him.

“Get dressed before I
forget myself.”  Bent over her face Peter leered at her in the most dreadful
way that he could manage.

Jennifer yelped and
ran. At the bedroom door, she paused, turned and her fire reappeared – all
pretence this time.

“Don’t get any
peculiar ideas, no funny business. The door is locked.”  Suddenly Jennifer knew
that she had said the wrong thing when the anger returned to Peter’s eyes.

With a bite in his
voice Peter barked, “I am no bloody silly teenager who can only think of his
own self gratification whenever he is with you. I said that I was a man – a man
who…,” he stopped short before continuing. “The only time I’ll come into your
bed or your shower is when I'm invited.”

Slowly Peter’s eyes
returned to their sparkling blue.

“I’ll cook breakfast.
Then I’ll take you shopping if you like.”  As she made no comment, Peter
continued, “Hurry!  There’s such a lot to do - and don’t forget your shopping
list.”

Peter retrieved the
basket of food from outside the front door - all the necessities for an unusual
breakfast - and began cooking.

The kitchen, like the
living room was spotless and feminine, showing that, even in her brief time in
Sydney, Jennifer had worked hard to establish a home. It did not take Peter
long to feel comfortable as he inspected the contents of her cupboards.

He heated the chicken
stock, placed the banh pho (wide rice noodles) in the large Chinese bowls from
his basket and tossed the chicken pieces into the stock to cook.

Peter’s knock on the
bedroom door and shout of “Want me to wash those difficult-to-reach places?”
was met with a muffled screech and the sounds of a splattering shower.

Minutes later, a
completely different Jennifer sat staring at the huge bowl of steaming Pho Ga
(Vietnamese Chicken Noodle Soup) that he placed before her.

Peter laughed at her
confusion but soon they were both eating, enjoying his cooking.

“This is a Vietnamese
breakfast - I do hope you're enjoying it,” was Peter’s comment as he fished for
compliments.

“You can cook,”
Jennifer seemed surprised, “I didn’t know how hungry I was. This is truly
delicious.”

The faintest of
make-up highlighted her delicate features and her eyes sparkled. Her blouse and
skirt, although more casual than her suit of the previous night, were just as
tasteful but today she appeared so young and so carefree.

Studying her, Peter
ate slowly, busily thinking how he would like to taste her shoulders. Pho lost
its attraction in comparison to the delights she could offer.

At last, Jennifer sat
back. “I couldn’t eat another thing.”  Then becoming intense, she stared into
Peter’s eyes as if demanding the truth. She blushed as she asked, “Who or what
is ‘The Little One’?”

Peter’s eyes did not
waver as his bamboo curtain slid unbidden over his face. His poker face did not
betray a thing. “What a strange expression?  Where did you hear that?”

“Last night one of
the waiters remarked ‘The Little One is here’.”

“I'm sorry. You will
have to ask the waiter.”  Peter’s oriental mask slipped into place so that his
inner turmoil was not showing.

“Cook doesn’t wash up
so get busy,” Peter enjoyed bossing her about, “but I’ll wipe.”

“You give as many
orders as my brother,” her eyes crinkled as she thought of home, “he’s a beast
too.”

Jennifer tried to
stop her mind from wandering but thoughts crowded in on her. ‘What is it about
this man?  I treated him shamefully when he arrived and he became angry at my
accusations. Then our disagreement passed over and it is as if it had never
happened. He can cook and he can laugh but why,’ gulping she admitted her need,
‘why hasn’t he attempted to touch me or to kiss me?  He shows such
consideration and such thought yet nothing physical.

‘He has to be gay,
but I dare not ask him. Having a gay friend could be enjoyable but I want more
than a friendship.’

The morning flowed
smoothly but, far too quickly, it passed into the afternoon. Terrified that he
might do something to offend her, Peter fought any desire to put his arm around
Jennifer’s waist or to hold her hand. His euphoria at being with her kept his
conversation flowing easily and she seemed to relax.

She didn’t even
demure when he dragged her into a milk bar. Demanding she perch on a stool and
suck her milk shake as noisily as possible, he ordered for them.

“I haven’t done that
for ages. Mum used to rouse on us when we were little for making sucking
noises.”  Her face broke into a happy smile. “Just as well she didn’t hear us
then. Wasn’t the shopkeeper surprised?”

Jennifer stopped as
she forced herself to put an end to her feelings for this man. She knew that he
was getting to her. She wanted more than a friendship with a gay. She could not
afford to fall in love with this man. It must stop.

“Oh, dear, look at
the time. I must fly. Come on, we must get back.”

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