Relief underlined his next question. ‘Your appetite’s back?’
‘With a vengeance. Think I had emotion overload last night.’ And just like that, the tears spurted down her cheeks. A vision of Grace filled her head, held by a glowing Abbie, Callum watching on in awe. Picture perfect. Lots of love in the air when she and Rosie had dropped into Abbie’s apartment. Really beautiful. Sniff. Her boobs hurt. Her heart was heavy. ‘Got to go. See you later.’
‘Emma, wait. Are you sure you’re all right?’ Nixon’s concern spilled from the phone.
‘Just having a moment. A good one.’ Liar. ‘Promise. Bye.’ Bigger liar. She tapped ‘off’ before he could ask any more telling questions. ‘Right, missy, let’s get you to school.’ She pulled out into the traffic, wiping the back of her hand across her cheeks. Rosie didn’t need to see her mother’s meltdown when she got out of the car.
‘Mrs Watson showed us how to draw a cat yesterday. Can I have a cat, Mummy?’
Last week it’d been a puppy. ‘No, darling, we’re not having any pets.’ So Nixon was leaving work during the day to drop by her place. He wasn’t walking away from their friendship now that she no longer feared not being able to hand the baby over. Cool. She didn’t want him gone out of her life. She loved hearing him laugh, the way he talked with his hands, how his eyes widened when he got all thoughtful, those long legs. Ouch. Friends, remember? Yeah, but seeing Abbie so happy she was fast moving on and wanting more in her life.
‘But I want a cat. Why can’t I?’
Reality moment. Talking about a pet was what was important right now. Why couldn’t they have a cat? It would be good for Rosie and less work than a dog. ‘We’ll talk about it another day. Here’s school.’ She swung into a park outside the main gate.
‘Mummy, there’s Colleen,’ Rosie shrieked. Her finger was jabbing the window in the direction of the gathering of excited kids.
Colleen and Rosie had become inseparable since starting school, and Emma hoped her daughter had found her Abbie.
Undoing Rosie’s seat belt, Emma lifted her out of the car seat and handed over her bag. ‘There you go, young lady. Does Mummy get a kiss first?’
‘Yes, but hurry. I have to see Colleen.’
Blasted tears threatened again. Crouching down, she wrapped her arms around Rosie. ‘Love you, darling. Have a good morning.’
‘Mummy, hurry up. I want to tell Colleen about the baby.’
Here we go. People would be watching, talking about her—good and bad. She’d cope. As long as those who mattered to her were onside it didn’t matter. Nixon’s support and friendship being the benchmark. Friendship. That blasted word again. She needed to look it up in the dictionary and check that it didn’t include hot zaps of need and heart-melting longing for a man.
Watching Rosie race up the path to her friend, Emma slashed away the tears on her cheeks. ‘Sod off, mood. I’m happy with my lot.’
Had she been like this last time she’d had a baby? Absolutely. But there’d also been the Alvin factor thrown into the mix. He might’ve been gone for three months by then but she’d lived with a deep dread he’d turn up and demand to see his daughter, or snatch her away. It hadn’t happened, but it wasn’t until the police had arrived on her doorstep two years ago to tell her that her husband had died as the result of a fight that she’d fully relaxed the crippling fear.
‘Jingle Bells’ blared again. ‘Nixon, did you forget you just rang me?’ she choked.
‘That’s better. You’re not crying.’
How wrong could he be? ‘You rang because I sniffed a couple of times?’
‘Just checking. See you later.’ Gone.
Leaving her smiling and pinching herself. What was going on here? Would this feeling of excitement crash and burn as her hormones settled back in their cave? Had post-birth hormones temporarily heightened her awareness of Nixon as a man; a hot man? She stared around the car park, up at the sky, over at the main school building. There were no answers waiting to drop on her. She’d have to play the waiting game, to see the hormonal rush through to its end and look at what was left afterwards.
*
Nixon sauntered up Emma’s path and raised his hand to knock but the door opened before he had a chance. Loud music spilled out. ‘You’re a rocker?’
‘I’ll turn it down.’ Emma lurched forward as if she was about to plant a kiss on his cheek, then as rapidly she pulled back, her face burning.
His face untouched.
‘Emma?’ He followed her through the apartment to the small but neat lounge where she killed the volume.
Her shoulders were tense, her neck stiff, and her hands now fists at her sides. ‘Sorry about that.’ She looked—fragile. Yes, definitely delicate. As if she didn’t know if she was coming or going. Not surprising. The birth must’ve caught up in full force. ‘I was trying to block out stuff.’
‘Baby crying next door stuff?’
An abrupt nod. ‘I’m probably adding to the problem as Grace won’t be able to sleep. But I’m going up the walls and had to do something, and going for a run is not an option.’ Emma’s bottom lip quivered.
Nixon wanted to hug her, to send that crying packing, but sensed a hug might make things worse. He swung the paper bag he held in one hand. ‘I got pastries from the French patisserie. That okay?’
Her lips softened, a small smile creeping in. ‘I got some ciabatta from the bakery and ham from the superette. I thought we could sit on the deck.’ She stared around the room as if it were foreign to her.
‘Perfect.’ Hopefully it would be further away from the baby’s cries if they happened again. ‘Emma, look at me.’
Her reluctance stabbed him in the chest. He shouldn’t have come. She didn’t want him here. But then she said, ‘Take no notice of me. I’m all mixed up.’ She drew a breath. ‘I’m glad you came. I need sane and sensible at the moment.’
So he wasn’t about to be kicked out. He wasn’t sure he liked being labelled sane and sensible but if that was what she wanted then that was what she’d get. But as she headed into the kitchen his gaze scoped her body and that thick, wavy copper hair falling down her back, causing a pang of need to slide under his skin. Emma was beautiful. Alluring. What? Nixon tensed. What was that? Emma was captivating? Yes, she was, but he wasn’t going anywhere with this. He recognised that she was attractive, but he wasn’t admitting to wanting to follow through on that. Not likely. Oh, man, he was an expert in caution so what had gone wrong that his gut had tightened when he’d looked at his friend? Better get back on track with why he was here. ‘About coming back to work. Don’t rush it. We can cope.’ She really was exhausted and would need time to recuperate.
‘I know, but it’s a bit confronting being this close to the baby so you’ll probably see me sooner than later.’ Emma sort of laughed. Strained
and unhappy laughter.
It wasn’t up to him. ‘Why not move in with your parents for a few days? I know Kathy would love to spoil you.’
‘And Rosie.’ Emma sighed. ‘It’s like my family have always got my back and this time I want to be strong. I chose to have a baby for Abbie, and I need to see it through to the point I’m past these annoying hormones and accepting that I don’t have another baby to raise.’
‘I think I can understand that. But don’t feel you’re on your own. I’m here if you need a punching bag.’
Emma winced.
Wrong term given her history. ‘You know what I meant. Come on. Let’s eat.’ He took her arm to lead her outside. ‘You can fill me in on how you’re really managing now that you’ve come back to earth. With a thud, I’d say, if those dark shadows under your eyes are any indicator.’
She swayed towards him. Where was this going? The scent of strawberries reached him. Her shampoo? Then she placed a hand on his arm and gave a gentle squeeze. ‘What do you want to drink?’
‘Water’s good. Unless you’ve got a commercial coffee machine?’ Strong black coffee was his weakness.
At last a full smile, aimed at him what was more, turning his toes and filling him with warmth. ‘You see the size of my kitchen?’
He gave a perfunctory glance around. ‘If you got rid of the toaster and kettle, put the tea, instant coffee and sugar containers away, we could make one fit. Just.’
‘You’re going to be visiting that often?’ Those stunning eyes filled with happiness and laughter.
He shrugged up a smile for her. ‘Who knows? Come on, let’s go eat.’ Before I say something like, ‘Hell, yes, I want to call in every day.’ He waved the pastries in front of her. ‘You told me you’re starving, remember?’