Chapter Six
“What a lovely idea,” Pat gushed as she embraced Jo at the garden-center cafe. “Meeting here to celebrate, just us two girls. You know I’ve been meaning to phone and congratulate you but it’s all been so confusing. On, then off, then on again.”
“Relax,” said Jo. “I’m not marrying your son.”
The older woman sank into an wrought-iron chair. “Thank God.”
“Ouch.” Jo took her own seat. “Maybe I do prefer it when you pretend to like me.”
Pat recovered. “It’s not that I don’t like you… For heaven’s sake, Jo, do you have to be so…so challenging all the time?”
“I’m sorry, I was brought up to be honest. From your reaction, I guess I’m not the only one wondering if Dan’s sudden obsession with marrying me is a little odd.”
The waitress arrived. “Can I take your order?”
“Cappuccino, skinny milk please, caffeine-free.” Pat scanned the luscious cake selection in the cabinet behind them. “Nothing to eat for me.”
Jo admired self-control but Pat’s bordered on self-flagellation. She reminded Jo of a Victorian missionary who persisted in wearing corsets in the tropics.
“Espresso and a piece of chocolate gateau please.” Jo glanced mischievously at Pat. “Two forks.”
“One,” Pat corrected. As usual they were off to a great start.
Jo stuck to what they had in common. “How has Dan acted since he got home?”
“Herman says half the work’s done by the time he gets to the farm every morning, which means Danny’s still not sleeping.” Their order arrived as she told Jo about Dan’s insomnia.
Absently, Pat sipped her cappuccino. “I wondered if it was some kind of post traumatic stress disorder, except, as Danny pointed out, he wasn’t on patrol.”
“But he was on the retrieval crew,” said Jo slowly. She couldn’t imagine what that had been like.
“And let’s face it,” said Pat, “he can’t be in his right mind if he wants to—” She stopped, embarrassed.
Amusement pierced Jo’s growing disquiet. “Marry me?”
“—proceed with this wedding against your wishes. Don’t put words in my mouth.”
“Sorry,” Jo said meekly.
“All I’m saying is don’t accept him if you have doubts. Marriage is hard work and you need one hundred percent commitment from the start. Even with commitment, there are no guarantees.” She sounded disheartened. Jo proffered her a fork and, rolling the glazed cherry to the side of the plate, Pat dug into the chilled frosting.
“Well, you can relax about the marriage thing. I’m shunning Dan until he comes to his senses.”
She’d expected approval; instead Pat looked up horrified. “You can’t do that, you’re the only one he’s likely to open up to. He’s not talking to Herman about it and God knows,” she added bitterly, “he refuses to confide in me.”
Dismayed, Jo picked up her fork. “I hadn’t thought of that.” In silence, the two women shared the gateau. When the last crumb had gone, Pat dabbed at her mouth to remove the evidence and gave Jo a pleading look.
“I wouldn’t ask if I weren’t worried sick about him…”
“Okay,” Jo said, feeling trapped. “I won’t shut him out completely.”
* * *
A ute she didn’t recognize was parked in the driveway when Jo got home in the deep twilight. And the light was on in the parlor, the formal living room where Nan had once entertained her many visitors. Jo couldn’t remember seeing anything in her grandmother’s diary, but given the chaos of the past few days, she could have missed it.
In the garage, she turned off the headlights and sat for a moment in the dark. Then hauling her heavy briefcase from the passenger seat, she entered the house.
Perry Como crooned from the CD player and her mood lifted. Nan always played him when she was feeling well. Dumping her briefcase, she strolled into the parlor and stopped dead.
“Darling,” said Nan. “We were just talking about you.”
Dan filled another glass with champagne. “Tough day?”
“You could say that,” she returned evenly, glaring at him. Accepting the glass, she turned to Nan, trying to recall how alcohol affected her medication. “Should you be drinking?”
“Pooh, one won’t kill me.” Her grandmother toasted Dan. “Besides, we’re closing a deal.”
Perry warbled that everyone knew where this was heading.
“What deal?”
“Daniel has offered to prune the hedges this weekend.”
“He has enough to do on the farm.” Despite her promise to Pat, Jo couldn’t keep the sharpness out of her voice. He was boxing her in, closing off all escape routes.
Nan’s smile faltered. “Oh, dear, why didn’t I think of that?”
Dan leaned forward and chinked his glass to Rosemary’s. “Because you know I’ll always make time for my favorite women,” he returned gallantly.
“Poppycock,” Nan retorted, but she was smiling again. The three of them together was almost like old times. Almost. Jo sipped the champagne, holding the bubbles on her tongue before swallowing. Well, if the mountain thought coming to Mohammad would further its cause, the mountain thought wrong. “How about we go for a drive in the morning, Nan? Get out of Dan’s way.”
His eyes gleamed appreciatively.
Nan looked appalled. “You can’t leave a man alone with a chainsaw, Jocelyn.”
“Anyway, your part of the deal is to supply lunch,” Dan said smoothly. He turned to Nan. “But if you feel I’m intruding…”
“Nonsense,” protested Rosemary, “you’re practically family.”
Perry crooned about two hearts forever linked. Jo gulped her champagne. “Where’s Polly?” she asked her grandmother.
Dan answered. “The housekeeper? She’s making dinner.”
“Jocelyn, we’ve had such fun talking about when you two were children,” said Rosemary. The more her grandmother lost of the present, the sharper the past seemed to become. “Tell me, Daniel, are you still intending to join the army?”
He looked puzzled, and Jo’s fingers tightened on the stem of her glass.
“You mean rejoin the army?” he asked. “No, my resignation’s permanent. And I’m home to take over the farm from Herman, remember?”
Nan settled in the armchair and played with her pearls. “Oh, yes, of course.” She sought out Jo, no longer a grande dame but a confused child.
“We like this tune,” Jo reminded her as another old-timer, Vince Bugatti, began to croon. “You know I’ll never leave you,” she sang softly.
Nan’s expression cleared. “No one cares like I do,” she finished in a sweet contralto. “Vince Bugatti.” Confidence restored, she turned to Dan. “You grew up extremely handsome, Daniel. In fact, you have quite the look of my Graham, don’t you think, Jocelyn?”
Instinctively Jo exchanged a smile with Dan. “I think Pops was a little rounder.”
“And balder,” said Dan.
“Not when I married him.” Nan’s brow furrowed. “Someone else is getting married soon.”
Jo stiffened. “No, they’re not.”
“I’m sure they are.” Her grandmother’s voice was querulous again. She rummaged through her black handbag. “I write things down,” she said to Dan. “Because of my memory… Jocelyn, what have you done with my notebook?” Her tone accusatory, Nan tipped the contents of her bag on the coffee table. Loose paper fluttered to the floor, along with four spoons, two potatoes and a dirty gardening trowel. “Have you been stealing from me?”
“Now, Nan,” Jo cajoled, kneeling to collect the debris. “You know I’d never touch your notebook without permission.”
Every night, she emptied the handbag of oddities Nan had squirreled away, but the notebook was sacrosanct.
“I don’t believe you,” Rosemary’s voice rose hysterically. “I know you sneak into my—”
“Is this it?” Dan asked calmly. Coming forward, he slid a hand down the side of the chair, pulled out the notebook and placed it into Nan’s shaking hands, then cupped them in reassurance.
The angry color left Rosemary’s cheeks. In a normal voice, she said, “Yes, thank you, Daniel.”
“My pleasure.” He returned to his chair. Jo concentrated on picking up the last couple of fallen items. When she turned around, she saw he’d topped up her glass. She sipped it and felt her nerves steady.
Nan was busy looking through her notebook. “I knew it,” she said triumphantly. “You’re marrying my granddaughter.”
Tension locked Jo’s spine.
“I want to,” said Dan. “She hasn’t agreed yet.”
“Making him wait, eh? I led your grandfather a merry dance, too.” Rosemary’s gaze fell on the clock. “Oh, my goodness, look at the time. He’ll be home soon from the paper and I haven’t started dinner.” She bustled to her feet. “Jocelyn will look after you, Daniel, but no more picking my raspberries, you rascals. I want them for jam.” Putting her empty champagne glass in her handbag she left the room.
In her wake there was complete silence. Even Vince had run out of croon. “So,” Jo said, “still want to get hitched?”
* * *
Dan took a moment to collect himself. “I had no idea she’d gotten this bad.”
“Nan was always very clear that she didn’t want her deterioration broadcast.” Jo put her glass on the mantel. “Only close friends know.”
That stung. “I’m a close friend.”
“You stopped being a confidante when you started trying to bulldoze me into marriage.”
“Don’t give me that,” he said harshly. “This must have been going on for months.”
Jo hesitated. “I figured you had enough on your plate this past year,” she admitted.
No wonder she was looking so goddamn tired. Dan stood up and opened his arms. “Come here.” When she shook her head, he added, “For ten minutes we’ll revert to friends.”
She looked as though she wanted nothing more than to lay her head on his shoulder, but Jo shook her head again. “Thanks, but I’ll wait until normal service is resumed.”
A thought occurred to him. “Is this why you won’t marry me? You know I’ll do anything for Nan.”
“Stop,” she said in exasperation. “I’m not marrying you because we don’t love each other, remember?”
“Yeah, we do, and before you get hung up on the hearts and flowers and starry-eyed bullshit that burns out in a couple of months, answer me this. Has any romantic relationship come close to what we’ve got? Seriously, Jo, what other guy could understand you better than I do?”
“That used to be true,” she said dryly. “Before this week. Now I’m thinking we’ve mostly lived in different places for ten years, and you don’t know me at all.”
God, he loved a challenge. “Yeah? Take a seat, Ms. Swann, because this is your life.”
“Go ahead,” Jo sat down and crossed her legs. “Amaze me.”
“I know at thirteen you loved New Kids on the Block and had a crush on Donnie Wahlberg. And now you’ve ditched him for his actor brother, Mark.” As her lips curved he added, “And that the easiest way to defuse an argument is to make you smile.”
She pursed her lips.
“I know that you thrive on opposition, believe politics should be clean, the world just and the environment protected.”
“All public knowledge,” she countered. “Especially Mark Wahlberg.”
Dan leaned forward. “I know the Chronicle is your pride and joy but sometimes it feels like an albatross around your neck.” She blinked. “I know you want kids because you grew up without siblings, and for some reason you’re now pretending you don’t.” Jo shifted in her chair. “I know it’s not commitment that scares you, but claustrophobia because I feel the same way. And that we’re friends because we give each other room to breathe.”
Her eyes widened and he felt equally surprised. Some of this was news to him, too. “I know,” he said slowly, “you wonder if your relationships fail because you’re too independent. But it’s because you’ve been dating the wrong guys. The ones who act tough but whose masculinity is threatened by a woman who can take care of herself.” They stared at each other. Dan tried to remember where he was going with this. That’s right, talking her into marrying him.
“All that makes you a good friend,” said Jo, “but there’s no spark, Dan. I didn’t feel anything when I kissed you in Auckland and neither did you. You were horrified.”
“Because I was getting a hard-on with someone I’d only ever thought of as a friend,” he said bluntly.
“You were as relieved as hell when I said it wasn’t about you.”
“I was shipping out the next night. I didn’t have time to deal with it.”
“Be honest, none of this would have come up again if you hadn’t been through a tragedy.”
He frowned. “Does it matter how we got here? You say you didn’t feel a spark when we kissed. Let’s verify that.”
She swallowed. “You mean kiss?”
He remembered that night in Auckland. Her breasts, the see-through top, remembered her bold tongue. “Unless you’ve got a better offer?”
She ignored that. “And if there’s no spark on my side, you’ll call off this wedding?”
“Yes.” He hadn’t participated in that kiss; this one he was definitely getting involved. And Dan knew how to please women.
“Fine.” She stood up, gestured for him to do the same. Before he’d fully straightened, she’d pressed a quick kiss on his lips and stepped clear. “Like I said, nothing.”
“Nice try, Swannie.”
She sighed. “You mean a kiss kiss?”
He knew not to smile. “I mean a kiss kiss.”
“No groping…we’re talking first base.”
He ran teasing fingers over her forearm. “Just to be clear on the green zones. This okay?”
She frowned. “Quit making fun and let’s get this over with.”
His fingers continued stroking up the angora sleeve, over her shoulder and closed around the bare nape of her neck.
As he bent closer, Jo’s eyes grew wary. Nervously, she closed them and braced herself. Dan kissed her, angling his mouth over hers with gentle pressure. Her lips tightened. Under his hand, her neck tensed. Dammit, he needed this to work. Cupping her face with his free hand, he coaxed her resistant lips apart with his tongue. She tasted good, smelled good…if only she’d relax into it. But Jo remained wooden in his arms.
Now he knew how she’d felt kissing him.
Frustrated, he broke contact. “This only counts if you kiss me too.”
They tried again. Reluctantly her tongue touched his, withdrew, then touched again, tentative and sweet. Vulnerable in a way he’d never associated with her. It caught him off guard. Made him feel—
Jo broke free. “Dan, I’m sorry.” She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “But this is too weird.”
Stunned, he removed his hand from the nape of her neck. “In that case,” he rasped and she glanced up hopefully. Dan stopped. Her irises were like thin bands of predawn gray around a black horizon.
He stroked his thumb along that stubborn jawbone and Jo’s pupils flared wider. “Nothing, huh?”
“Not a thing.”
“Your pupils are dilated,” he said.
“What?”
“It’s an involuntary sexual response.”
Her lashes fell and she moved away. “That’s one reason pupils dilate. There must be others.”
Dan followed her. “Well, yeah, you could be a drug addict or have accidentally ingested jet fuel or contracted rabies.”
She turned on him. “Look, this is ridiculous, I don’t fancy you. End of story. Now call off the bloody wedding.”
Something didn’t add up. “Why are you so resistant?”
“I had coffee with your Mum today. She’s worried about you.”
Dan tried not to stiffen. “It’s one of her hobbies.”
“I’m worried about you. Pat said you’re not sleeping, working too hard—”
“For the last time, I have not got post-traumatic stress disorder.”
“No, you haven’t,” she agreed.
He eyed his best friend warily. “But?”
“But you’re still grieving and you’ve got it into your head that marrying me is the way through it.”
“That’s bullshit. I’m prioritizing what’s important to me and—”
“Hear me out. Please.” Jo took his hands, her expression serious. “You and I have been friends forever, it’s natural we rely on each other in hard times. Maybe make more of our friendship than we should. But your grief will pass, Dan, and so will these feelings for me. Then we’ll be friends again.” She smiled. “And you’ll meet someone you really want to marry, have multiple children and I will dance at your wedding.”
“To what?”
“Excuse me?”
“What song are you dancing to?” he inquired. “When you’re imagining my wedding to someone else?”
Her smile faded. “Let’s stick to the point.”
“Humor me.”
Jo’s eyes narrowed. “The chicken dance.”
He smiled. “I’ll make sure it’s on our playlist.”
She dropped his hands. “Think about it, Dan. The other day you said you wanted to live big for Steve and Lee—shouldn’t this be about us?”
“You’re right.” He managed to keep his tone even. “That’s why I’ll be seeing you in the morning.”
Jo saw by his face that she’d struck a nerve so she didn’t argue. Instead she closed the door quietly behind him and rested her forehead against it. With her whole heart she wanted to give Dan the comfort he needed, but that wasn’t in either of their best interests right now.
Especially given her unexpected response to his kiss. It had taken everything she had not to kiss him back. God, no, she thought despairingly. Why did she have to want him now?
At the sound of approaching footsteps she straightened. When Polly entered the room, Jo was clearing the champagne flutes.
“Rosemary’s settled in the conservatory with her jam-making recipes,” said the nurse. “There’s a shepherd’s pie in the oven for dinner.”
“Thanks, Pol, I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“He asked me how I knew you.”
Jo paused. “What did you say?”
“I made something up. Jo, why did you never tell him the truth?”
With a sigh, Jo gestured to a chair and Polly sat down. Pouring the nurse a glass of champagne, she picked up her own but didn’t drink, absently watching the bubbles rise through the pale straw-colored liquid. “He’d take Nan on in a heartbeat, you know that? He didn’t even flinch. But then Dan’s always shouldered more than his fair share of responsibility. Walking his little sisters to school, minding them at home. He was always the go-to guy for our friends. He said to me once, ‘You’re the only person I never worry about, do you know how restful that is?’”
“And if you told him that will change?”
She said slowly, “I think if I saw pity in his eyes I’d shoot him and then myself.” Jo put down her glass. “I know it’s not rational, but I’ve always needed him to see me as someone as strong as he is. It got me through a lot this year.” She shrugged. “Something has to stay the same, you know?”
The other woman nodded, sympathy in her gaze and Jo looked away. “Anyway, this isn’t about me. Dan lost two of his mates last year…. I think this is really about coming to terms with his mortality.”
Polly winced.
“Exactly,” said Jo and stood up. “So, shepherd’s pie you say?”