Chapter 25
Rhian rubbed her eyes and tried to focus on the weather report on her tablet. The storm that had kept them all inside for the past three days was still blowing and looked set to remain for at least another three. She’d missed seeing Jayden the day before but admitted to herself it was probably a good thing. She’d barely slept since their pizza dinner, and the thought of seeing Jayden again in front of everyone, pretending in front of everyone, twisted her stomach into knots. She lifted her coffee cup, only to find it empty. She tutted and went to get another cup, hoping this one would be more successful at removing the sandpaper from her eyelids.
Oskar pulled out the seat next to her, a wide grin on his face. She rested her cheek on her hand, elbow on the table, and waited and watched.
“You look lonely over here, boss lady. Wanna hit the wall with a few of us?” he offered.
She smiled ruefully. The indoor climbing gym was the best offer she’d had all day. “Wish I could. I’m afraid I’ve got boring work to do, though. Instead of lightening my workload, the weather adds to it.”
He nodded. “Shame. You look like you could use a break.”
“You saying I look like shit?”
He chuckled. “Wouldn’t dare.” He rapped his hands on the table like a drum roll and stood. “Catch ya later, then.”
“Later.” She waved him off, turned back to her tablet, and opened her e-mail program. She scanned the contents of a report from Rachel declaring Luiji and Oskar “the bomb”, then shook her head and sniggered. She could just picture Rachel in her black suit and red blouse, dark hair piled up on her head, her glasses perched on her nose as she mouthed the words in her office, trying out the phrase beforehand.
Rhian sent her a quick reply, asking if she had counted the number of times she’d practiced saying “the bomb” while writing that e-mail and hit send.
There was another e-mail in her inbox. One she wasn’t expecting. She held her breath as she clicked on it and read:
My darling daughter Rhian,
“Like I believe that shit.”
I know things between us have been difficult, and I accept that that is my fault. Entirely. I do not blame you for refusing my calls. I can’t. Not anymore. Not now that I have seen what I did to you.
Rachel showed me the video.
“Rachel, I’m gonna fucking kill you.” She wanted to just press delete, the same way she did on her answering machine on those few occasions he’d left her a message telling her to call him. Not asking. Telling. Her hand hovered over the red cross, but she couldn’t bring herself to push the button. The tone of this was so different to those demanding messages, so conciliatory, so apologetic, so…not her dad, that she couldn’t stop herself from reading on.
There was a time, when you were a little girl, that I put myself above what was best for you. I betrayed you and my duty as your father by turning my back on you and leaving to live my life with Rachel. I can’t honestly say that I would change that if I could, but I do regret what it did to you—to us. But you were a kind-hearted child, and you forgave me, a miracle I have always been grateful for. And when you came to live with us after your mother passed away, I swore I would never let you down again.
And then I let you down again.
I can’t honestly tell you what it was that I had such a problem with. But if you’ll indulge me here a little, I will try to explain what I can.
I have homosexual friends. I’ve worked with many more over the years too. And it has never affected me. When you told us that you were a lesbian, it was as though I stopped seeing you for a moment. I stopped seeing the little girl I helped to create, that I raised, that I loved, and instead I saw this amalgamation of every bad stereotype and crass porn film ever created to objectify and marginalise lesbians in our society.
And it made me afraid.
It made me afraid of you. Of seeing you and not being able to separate those dreadful images from the reality that is you.
But worst of all, it made me afraid for you.
It made me afraid of all the things you would miss without having a normal life. And yes, I do know, intellectually, that there is nothing abnormal about the life you’ve chosen or who you’ve found yourself to be. I am merely trying to explain what went through my head in those terrible few minutes. So please, bear with me and try to hear me out before you judge a foolish old man.
As a father, I always wanted you to have the best of everything I could possibly give you. I wanted you to succeed where I had failed, to love where I could not, and to have all the things that I’d wanted for myself at your fingertips. To find out that you didn’t even want those same things hurt. And the hurt drove my fear to anger.
When you were born, your mother and I vowed we would never use violence when we raised you. And neither of us ever did.
Until that night.
I am so sorry, Rhian.
I have never been able to forgive myself for raising my hand to you, so I blocked it out. I refused to let myself remember what I did. It was easier to blame you for the distance between us. It was your unnatural ways that had driven the wedge into our relationship, not my own idiocy.
When Rachel showed me the video of that man striking you…two things happened at the same moment. I felt a rage and the desire to protect you more fiercely than I have since you were a babe in arms, and the deepest sense of revulsion at myself than I could ever have believed possible. I wanted to destroy the man who hurt you.
Then I realised that I was the man who had hurt you the most. The blow that despicable idiot struck was nothing compared to the blow I dealt you, was it?
Tears rolled down Rhian’s face and blurred the screen in front of her. She swiped at them and carried on reading.
I can’t ask you to forgive me. I won’t. I know what I did was unforgivable. Yet, your forgiveness is truly my deepest wish.
I know it is a lot to ask, but would you allow me to join Rachel on one of the Skype calls? Please. Just so I can see you’re all right. If you don’t want to see me again after that, I promise I will abide by your wishes. I will truly do whatever you ask, my darling Rhian. I have so much to make up for. We have lost so much because of my foolishness.
Please.
Your father
Rhian wiped her face and read the missive again, trying to absorb all the details. Trying to determine the truth in them. She could picture him sitting behind his computer, tapping away at the keys with two fingers, and searching for just the right words. Words that would get him what he wanted without having to divulge too much of himself. At least that was the way it was before. But this was different. There seemed to be no hiding behind fancy words. Or attempts to confuse her with defying twists of logic. He was accepting fault. He was apologising, and he was begging her for something. Something that was tiny in the grand scheme of things. He just wanted her to let him see her face on a computer screen. But in the scheme of their things—of their relationship—this was a huge moment.
Should she agree?
Could she?
What reason did she have to believe what he was saying? Love was supposed to be unconditional, not just until you got scared or something changed and made it uncomfortable. He’d told her he would always love her. He’d also called her a disgusting pervert who he never wanted to see again.
Which was the real truth?
“Morning.”
Rhian dropped her tablet to the table when she looked up, and her fingers twitched. Jayden was smiling at her and putting two cups of coffee on the table before she sat down.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” She paused. “What’s up?”
Rhian swallowed and shook her head. “Nothing. I was just surprised. I wasn’t expecting you. I thought everyone had gone out.”
“I saw Luiji and most of the guys heading to the wall. I think there’s only Brooke and Sky not going over there.”
“How come?”
“Kimi said Sky’s picked up a stomach thing, and no one knows what’s going on with Brooke. They’re ignoring her, and she’s doing the same to them.” She slid one of the cups in front of Rhian. “Milk, no sugar, right?”
“Thanks,” Rhian said quietly. “Just the way I like it.”
Jayden shrugged the comment off and tapped the tablet. “More bad news from Rachel?”
Rhian sipped her coffee and frowned. “What? No. Why?”
“I wondered if that’s why you looked so upset.”
“I’m not upset.”
Jayden cocked an eyebrow but didn’t say anything.
Rhian sighed. “I’m fine. Honestly. And no, there’s been nothing bad from Rachel. Quite the contrary actually. Everything’s going well on their side, so she’s happy.”
“And if she’s happy, we’re all happy, right?”
“Right.”
“So why are your eyes all red? And I can see tear tracks down your cheeks.”
Rhian quickly wiped her face and shook her head slowly. “It’s nothing.”
Jayden took hold of her hand and slid their fingers together. “If it made you cry, it’s not nothing.” She squeezed Rhian’s fingers gently. “If you don’t want to tell me, I understand. But please don’t tell me it’s nothing when it clearly is.”
The look of gentle concern on Jayden’s face was enough to make the tears well in her eyes again, but she blinked them away, determined not to cry in front of her, yet desperately craving Jayden’s arms about her to chase away the questions spinning around in her head. But she could no more ask for Jayden’s embrace than she could trust what her father had written. The further away from reading that letter she got, the more convinced she became that it was a ploy. Perhaps Rachel was giving him more grief about their estrangement, and after sending that message, he could always throw it back at her that he’d tried. He probably figured Rhian wouldn’t answer his request. After all, she hadn’t before.
She shook her head again. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
Jayden squeezed her fingers again. “Okay.” She smiled. “You know where I am if you change your mind.”
Rhian nodded, pulled her hand from Jayden’s, and clasped them together on the table. “Thanks, but I’ll be fine.”
Jayden paused and swallowed before she asked, “So what’s on your agenda today?”
“Just clearing a bunch of e-mails and checking on a few important logistical things. You?”
“Killing time, really, but I’ve got a couple of ideas I’d like to run by you. Challenge stuff. Any chance you could come by Adventure Trekkers this afternoon? We could grab some lunch while we talk.”
Rhian nodded as she sipped her hot coffee. It really was just exactly the way she liked it. “Okay, sure. That will give me time to finish up these e-mails.”
“And it gives me time to scoot to the market and pick up some groceries. Mark seems to only have frozen pizza in the house.”
“And there’s only so much pizza a girl can eat, right?” I certainly seem to have lost my appetite for it.
“Exactly.” Jayden finished her coffee and stood. “See you at noon?”
Rhian nodded.
Jayden reached out and gently squeezed her shoulder, bent forward, and placed a kiss on her cheek. Rhian closed her eyes to savour the contact and ignore whoever must be watching, to pretend they were alone and that Jayden offered the kiss just to her—not to whoever was standing behind her.
The scent of Jayden’s perfume lingered long after she had gone, and whoever Jayden had seen, whatever it was that had made her initiate that kiss, never bothered to show themselves to Rhian. She was glad—relieved. She wasn’t sure she could have hidden the tear that traced its winding path down her cheek when Jayden walked away.
Four and a half months. How am I going to make it through lunch, never mind four and a half months? Somehow, knowing that Jayden wasn’t attracted to her didn’t help. She’d hoped it would. She’d hoped that finding out she was on her own in this thing would get her brain together and snap her out of it. Or was it her heart that was in control?
Either way, it didn’t seem to matter.
Jayden took the hamper from Isabella. “You’re sure these are her favourites?”
“Sí. Is what I make every time Carlos bring her to dinner. She say several time this her favourite.”
“Okay, cool.” She fished in her pocket and pulled out a wad of cash, peeled off a hundred-peso bill, and handed it to Isabella.
Isabella held up her hand. “No, no, no. I no take your money.”
Jayden grabbed her hand and pressed the bill in. “To cover expenses. I can’t let you cook and pay for the groceries, Isabella. Please.”
“Is too much.”
“Then I’m in credit for next time.” Jayden smiled.
Isabella sighed heavily. “For next three times.”
“Fine. Now what do I need to do?”
“You want her think you cook it?”
Jayden thought about and quickly rejected the idea. “No, then I’d have to live up to that. And you and I both know that the limit of my cooking ability is frozen pizza.”
“Ay, ay, ay.” She pulled out a covered plastic dish. “Is ravioli. Boil pan of water, add salt, little oil, and add pasta to water for five minutes.”
“Five minutes? Is that all? You sure?”
“Sí. Five minutes. Or will be ruined.
“Okay, five minutes. Got it. Then what do I do?”
“Drain pasta and put it back in the pan. This”—she pulled out another dish—“is pesto sauce. Pour it over the pasta, stir, and serve.”
“That’s it?”
“Is easy, no?”
“Sounds it.” She looked at the packages.
“Okay, I must go now. Carlos is going to the airport this afternoon. I want to give him his lunch before he leave.” She wiggled her fingers in Jayden’s direction and let the door close loudly behind her.
“Okay, sounds simple enough. I climb mountains, I can boil water, surely.”
“Do you always talk to yourself?”
Jayden looked up at the sound of Rhian’s voice. The discomfort in it was so clear that Jayden wondered for just a second if this was a good idea. But she didn’t have time to dwell on the thought. In her startled moment, she knocked the pesto sauce tub off the counter. She tried to catch it, managing to tip one corner with her fingers before it crashed to the ground. The lid pinged off, and the dark green, nutty sauce splattered across the floor.
“Shit.”
Rhian’s hand covered her mouth a she tried desperately not to laugh. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry.” She rushed forward, giggling as she did so, and grabbed a roll of kitchen towels, tearing sheets off to mop up the mess. She handed several to Jayden and pointed to her pants. “You should get those pants in the wash quickly before the basil stains. That beige is a great colour on you, but it won’t look good with little green stains all around your ankles.”
“Doesn’t matter about my pants,” Jayden said, relieved that the fit of giggles seemed to have jumped Rhian out of her discomfort and the morose mood she’d been in earlier. Jayden smiled. Then I don’t care if the pants are totally ruined. It was worth it just to see that smile again. “Be careful you don’t get any on your jeans, then.”
Rhian carried on soaking up the mess. “It’s okay. I’m fine.” She smiled over at Jayden and nodded to her legs. “Go get cleaned up. I’ve got this.”
Jayden climbed the ladder to the loft and changed as quickly as she could. “Stupid fucking moron. So much for making a good impression,” she muttered under her breath. She grabbed the nearest pair of pants she could find—a pair of skinny-fit jeans—and poured herself into them before descending the ladder again. “Sorry about that.”
She stopped dead in her tracks. Rhian was on her hands and knees, cleaning up the last of the pesto sauce. At the sound of her voice, Rhian turned to look at Jayden over her shoulder, and Jayden was bombarded with the fantasy image of seeing Rhian just like that, but naked—and wanting her.
Jayden’s brain slowed to a stop and desire flooded her blood…and parts south of the border as she held back the ache in her body to kneel behind Rhian and let her hands explore, to discover every dip and curve, every secret place that made Rhian squirm and writhe and call her name—
“You okay?” Rhian asked. A frown slid in place of that gentle smile.
Jayden nodded and spurred herself forward, berating herself for letting her imagination get the better of her. And worse still, letting Rhian catch her at it. She didn’t want Rhian to slip back and seem as uncomfortable with her as she had been earlier…as she’d seemed in that second when she walked in. No. Something told her that Rhian really needed to relax right now. “I’m really sorry about that. I’m not normally so clumsy.”
“It’s my fault. I startled you.” She straightened up, got to her knees, and stretched to dump the soiled paper towels in the bin. “Let me knock up a sauce to make it up to you.”
“You cook?”
“I’ve been known to.” Rhian’s frown deepened as she put her hands on her hips and cocked her head to the side. “Why do you look so surprised?”
Jayden shrugged. “Probably because I can’t. And anyone who can do things I can’t amazes me.”
Rhian stood and looked at the box, still intact. “What’s in your pasta?”
“Spinach and ricotta.”
Now Rhian’s eyes lit up, and a smile spread across her lips. “Yum. My favourite.” She pointed over her shoulder with her thumb, the other hand tapping her fingernails on the top of the pasta container. “Mind if I raid your cupboards and see what I can make to go with it?”
She only does that stuff when she’s nervous. Jayden waved her hand. “Help yourself.” She pulled a stool away from the small breakfast bar. “I’ll just sit here and watch you work.”
“Hm. I’m seeing how this works, Ms Harris.” She opened the fridge and then a couple of cupboards, lifting things out, putting some back, smelling some tomatoes and a lump of cheese.
“And how’s that?”
“Invite me over for lunch, then get me to cook it for you.” She smiled as she plopped a carton of milk, butter, flour, and the lump of cheese onto the breakfast bar.
Jayden caught her hand. “That wasn’t the plan.” She ran her thumb against the back of Rhian’s hand, unable to stop herself. Then she let go quickly and coughed to clear her throat. “Though I have to admit, it is working out rather nicely.”
Rhian turned back to the fridge and returned with a package of bacon. “Well, since this whole lunch thing was your plan to begin with, the least you can do is help with the prep work.”
Jayden grinned, crossed her wrists, and offered them as though to be shackled. “I am yours to command.”
Rhian laughed and turned her face away. Had Jayden just seen the beginnings of a blush? “Yeah, yeah.” She passed her the bacon slices and a chopping board. “Dice those and an onion, please.”
“Dice?”
Rhian cocked her head to one side. “Yes. As in little squares.”
“Okay.” Jayden worked methodically, watching as Rhian grated the cheese, located the pans she wanted, set the water for the pasta to boil, and picked up the bacon from the board before throwing it into a large frying pan. She tossed the contents of the pan when she added the onion. Her movements were hypnotic, and Jayden stood next to her watching her work with the fluid grace of a dancer. “Did Rachel teach you to cook?”
Rhian laughed. “Not on this planet. Rachel’s the queen of takeaways and restaurants.” She transferred the contents of the pan to a bowl and dumped a few tablespoons of butter into it. “When I was at uni, I was addicted to cooking shows. Jamie Oliver, MasterChef, you name it. I got tons of ideas, and my housemates were always very appreciative of my efforts.” She spooned two tablespoons of flour into the melted butter and stirred it together.
“You cooked for them all?” Jayden was determined to keep up the simple questions. She wasn’t sure if it was the easy topics or the seemingly familiar task of cooking that was helping Rhian relax, but whatever was responsible, it was working. She was talking to her normally, her busy hands were constructive rather than fidgeting, and her smile was easy and no longer forced. The banter that had been missing since their pizza disaster was back, and Jayden was glad to see it slowly returning. So far, so good.
“Yup. They had to do cleanup and pay towards groceries, but I did the cooking. It was the only way to make sure I didn’t die of scurvy or get bowed legs.” She poured milk into the mixture and stirred slowly.
Jayden chuckled. “I lived on pot noodles and tins of soup through uni.”
Rhian pointed the spoon at her legs. “How are they still straight?”
Jayden barked a laugh. “Who says they are?”
Rhian groaned and added cheese to the pan.
“That wasn’t that bad.”
“No?”
“I can do worse.”
Rhian chuckled and added more cheese. “I’m sure you could, sweetheart, but let’s not, okay?”
She said sweetheart again. “Okay.” And there ain’t nobody here but little ol’ me. Jayden grinned.
“What’s that look for?”
“What look?”
“The shit-eating grin on your face.”
“This is just my face.”
“Right,” Rhian drawled. “And I’m the queen of Sheba.” She poured the ravioli into the boiling water and put the bacon and onion back into the pan, glancing up at the clock as she did. “So want to tell me about these ideas you’ve had?”
“Later. Let’s just enjoy a nice lunch together first.” She smiled, hoping Rhian would relax a little and enjoy herself. Enjoy being here, with her. Rather than looking as though she wanted to escape at the first opportunity.
Rhian stared at her as though trying to decide what was going on…or maybe if she was going to roll with whatever was going on. Then she smiled, the shy kind of smile Jayden had seen when they’d kissed on the glacier, then nodded.
“If that’s what you want.” She edged a bit closer to Jayden. Was that a coincidence? She didn’t see a functional need for Rhian to do that, or for the furtive but probing glance she had just flashed at her.
Perhaps a test was in order. “Can I get you a drink?” Jayden asked.
“Water will be fine, thanks.”
“No problem.” She touched Rhian’s arm as she reached over her to get glasses from the cupboard and smiled widely at her sharp intake of breath. “Sorry,” she whispered just by Rhian’s ear.
“It’s okay. Do you need me to move?” she mumbled.
“No, it’s fine.” She brushed a little closer to grab the second glass, her breasts pressing against Rhian’s back for the briefest of moments before she pulled away and went to the sink. The smooth movement of Rhian’s hands had become a little jerky, and her back was rigid. Jayden hoped she hadn’t pushed too far too soon.
She heard Rhian swallow. Saw her shake her head and move to the sink herself where she drained the pasta, then added it to the sauce in her other pan. Her cheeks were pink when she turned to the breakfast bar and quickly served it onto the two plates Jayden had set out for her.
Jayden pulled out a second stool and waved Rhian onto it with a theatrical bow before sitting opposite her and picking up her fork. “This looks even better than the pesto sauce.”
“Hm. Well, it’s less green.” Rhian sawed one of the pasta parcels in half with her fork.
“And much less stainy,” Jayden said as she wiped a spilt drop from her jeans.
“Stainy? That’s not a real word.”
Jayden shrugged. “Maybe not, but you knew exactly what I meant by it.”
Rhian rolled her eyes but just kept eating.
“Tastes even better than it looks,” Jayden said quietly.
Rhian’s cheeks coloured again. She fidgeted with her fork. “Thanks.”
Jayden waited until Rhian’s gaze flicked up to meet hers before she said, “No, no, no. Thank you.” She hoped Rhian could see beyond the simple words to everything she truly meant. She hoped Rhian could see in her eyes what she was really trying to say to her. Thank you for giving me a chance. Thank you for giving me the way back to myself. Thank you for showing me a future I want to be a part of.
Rhian shrugged and took a bite. After she swallowed she said, “It’s just a cheese sauce. No big deal.”
The strained notes of discomfort and distance echoed through those words, and Jayden swallowed around the lump in her throat. If Rhian couldn’t see what Jayden wished she could… Well, she just didn’t want to.