Just for Fun (15 page)

“Emma,” Nic told her, coming forward at last. “Stop. Please.
You’re freezing, and you’re too upset. Come on in, and we’ll talk.”

“No,” she sobbed. “I don’t want to talk to you. I changed my
mind. Just . . . go
away.
Leave us
alone.
”

“Come on,” he urged again. “You’re here to tell me. But
you’re too cold, and too wet. Come inside and talk to me. I stuffed up, and I
know it. Come in so we can find a way to make it better. For Zack’s sake.”

 That snapped her out of it, he saw. She nodded reluctantly,
sniffed, wiped her hand across her face. He handed her the towel. “Come into
the kitchen, have a cuppa. Warm up.” He took her beyond the dividing pillar and
into the great room, across the expanse of wood floor to the breakfast bar.
“Sit and dry off,” he told her. He put the electric jug on, then had another
thought. “Hang on a tick.” He ran upstairs, came back with a charcoal gray fleece
dressing gown, tossed it to her. “Put that on.”

She pulled it around herself, too cold to protest. She
really had the shakes now. She huddled in his dressing gown, rubbed the towel
over her hair and face, attempted to blot the water from her sodden sweater and
jeans while he made the tea.

He waited until she had both hands around the mug and was
sipping the hot beverage, and he saw the shivers dying down. Though she
wouldn’t be really warm, he knew, until she got out of those wet things. He
couldn’t suggest that. “I’m sorry,” he said again. “I stuffed up, I know it.
And let my dad say some things—” He broke off. “But I’ll make it better.”

“How?” she demanded. “How are you going to make it better?”

“Where is he now?”

“At home.”

“Alone?”

“No. Of course not. What kind of mother do you think I am?
My landlady’s there with him.”

“I’ll come home with you now,” he decided. “Talk to him.”

“You can’t. He’ll be asleep.”

He shrugged in frustration. “Tomorrow, then. Bugger. I have
a sponsorship commitment after training. But I’ll come after that, in the
evening. Take him to dinner, talk to him.”

“No. Not alone.”

“What, then?”

“Come to dinner,” she said reluctantly. “So I can be there,
hear what you say. Help him.”

“Right. I’ll be there. Six? Want me to bring a takeaway?”

“Yeah. Because I don’t feel like cooking for you. But
shouldn’t you ask Claudia first? I don’t think she’ll be thrilled.”

“I’ll tell her. I don’t keep secrets from Claudia.”

 “So,” Nic said to Zack the following night. The three of
them were sitting around the little table, working on the Thai food Nic had
brought. Not too spicy, per Emma’s strictures. “Our camping trip wasn’t one for
the books, eh. Didn’t work out quite as well as we’d planned.”

Zack looked up at him warily, but didn’t answer. “Pity it
rained,” Nic went on. “That didn’t help. And that you got sick. Not your fault,”
he went on hastily. “Can’t help it when your tummy decides to go crook like
that.”

“And we had to stop too much, and come back in the boat,”
Zack volunteered at last. “That made your dad really angry.”

“Aw. He gets angry anyway. Nothing new there.”

“He didn’t like me, though,” Zack said, his voice small. “He
said I had to harden up.”

“Know how many times he’s told me to harden up?” Nic asked.
“Heaps. That’s how many.”

“But you’re strong. You’re a grown-up.”

“I wasn’t always. I was a kid, just like you.”

“You prob’ly didn’t ever cry, though,” Zack said, making a
little pile of rice with his fork, then aimlessly stabbing at bits of meat.

“Yeh, I did,” Nic corrected him. “Not in front of my dad,
it’s true. But in our room, mine and Dan’s? Heaps of times.”

“Really?” Zack asked, eyes wide.

“Just ask Dan. He’ll tell you all my guilty secrets. Anyway,
camping’s bound to be a bit rough the first time. Specially if it rains. And
you’ve never fished before.”

“Specially if you spew,” Zack said.

“Yeh. Specially if you spew.”

“I was thinking we could try again,” Nic told Emma later,
after Zack was safely in bed. “Not fishing,” he went on hastily. “Or camping.
But what would you think about my taking Zack to the beach next Saturday? I
asked Claudia to come along as well, so there’d be a female influence. Thought that
might ease your mind.”

Emma’s brief experience of Claudia left her unconvinced. “I
don’t want you to take him without me,” she said. “Not till I see for myself
that things are better.”

“Right,” he sighed. “Come with us, then.”

“You and Claudia, and Zack and me,” she said dubiously.
“Just one big happy family.”

“Well, yeh.” He smiled suddenly. “Or a double date. Think of
it as neutral territory,” he coaxed. “May be for the best, don’t you think? For
everyone to get to know each other?”

“Where would we go?” she asked, wavering.

“I was thinking Piha. Only an hour or so from here. If it
doesn’t rain, that is. A few hours, that’s all.
With
a carsickness
tablet,” he added. “And no fishing. And nobody has to harden up.”

She smiled back reluctantly. “OK. A few hours at the beach. No
fishing. No camping.”

 “Zack and I’ve decided we like footy best anyway. We’ll stick
with that.”

“Where’s Claudia?” Emma asked in surprise when they got
to the Toyota late Saturday morning. “I thought she was coming.”

“Couldn’t do it after all,” Nic said, opening the door for
Zack to clamber into the back seat and tossing Emma’s beach bag in after him.

“Zack’s going to wonder if she’s real,” Emma told him as she
climbed into the passenger seat. “She doesn’t seem too excited about getting to
know us.”

Nic shut her door after her, walked around and swung into
the driver’s side. “Yeh,” he admitted as he put the ute in gear and pulled away
from the curb. “She’s having a bit of trouble with that.”

They didn’t talk about it more on the drive to Piha, mindful
of Zack in the back seat. Instead, Nic good-humoredly answered Zack’s questions
about the training the team was doing for the semifinal. No stops despite the
winding road, thanks to that tablet. Soon enough, they were driving slowly
through the tiny town and ending up at the large Piha Beach carpark, sparsely
populated today. No rain, just puffy white clouds and a brisk sea breeze.

“Let’s go in the water!” Zack urged as they stepped over the
berm and onto the wide beach.

“A bit cold,” Nic said dubiously. “For you
and
your
Mum. I’ll go with you.”

“I’ll come too,” Emma said. “For a bit, anyway. Till I
freeze.”

It
was
cold, she found. Frigid, in fact. Nic did stay
with Zack, to her relief, braving the waves and allowing her to retreat to the
shallow water near the shore. A few minutes, though, were enough for all of
them. Emma ran for the beach bag she’d stashed at the edge of the high-tide
mark, pulled out a big towel and rubbed Zack down, shivering herself. Wrestled
his warmest jumper over his head.

“There. That’ll warm you up,” she told him.

“Do we have hot chocolate?” Zack asked.

“Luckily, yes.” She reached to the bottom of the bag for the
thermos.

Nic took it from her. “I’ll pour it. Dry yourself off, get
something on before you get hypothermia.”

She took his advice. It might be best to cover up anyway.
She’d wished this morning that she had a one-piece to wear. But she only had
one costume, and it was a bikini, so that was that. Well, at least she wasn’t
shivering under a layer of cold, wet fabric. That was the upside. And it wasn’t
like Nic had never seen her body before.

She saw him staring at her, thermos in hand but hot
chocolate forgotten, as she rubbed at the skimpy costume in an attempt to dry
it. Whoops. She hadn’t been to the beach with a man in too long. And maybe Nic
having seen her body wasn’t such a good thing after all. Just like it wasn’t
great that she’d seen his. She’d been right—he
had
added some muscle.
And it looked terrific.

She wrenched her gaze away from the solid bulk of his
shoulders, only to find herself captivated by the sight of the drops of water
sliding slowly down his well-defined pectoral muscles toward the ridges of his
abdomen, disappearing into his low-slung swim trunks. The extra weight in his
chest and shoulders only set off his trim waist and narrow hips more, and there
was just way too much of him on display, looking way too good, for her peace of
mind. She forced herself to look away, dropped the towel and hastily pulled on
her skirt, the heavy lace knit of cream-colored wool warming her. Drew the
ribbon drawstring tight and tied it in a bow, then wrapped herself in her pale
pink cardigan before she found her comb and began working on her matted curls.

Nic finally looked back down at the thermos and cup in his
hands. “Right. Hot chocolate.” He poured it out, handed the metal cup to Zack,
whose shaking hands promptly spilled half of it.

“Better to pour it halfway,” Emma suggested.

“I see that,” Nic said ruefully. “Hand me that towel.” He
rubbed hot chocolate off Zack’s sweater, then used the towel on himself. And
Emma figured out why he’d been staring at her. Because the sight of him drying
off that broad chest, the play of muscle as he lifted his arms to work the
towel over his back, had her watching again despite her best intentions. She
was half-relieved, half-disappointed when he pulled his shirt and hoodie out of
his day pack and tugged them over his still-damp torso.

“Drink up, mate,” he told Zack, digging for the rugby ball
he’d thrown in earlier. “We need to do a bit of running, get you warm again. We’ll
practice passing in the wind. Need that skill often enough.”

Emma pulled a chunky black knit cap onto Zack’s shaggy blond
head. “This’ll help too,” she said.  

“I like that,” Nic commented. “Got the silver fern on
there.”

“It’s not the real one,” Zack told him. “It doesn’t say All
Blacks. Mum just put the fern on herself.”

“Better,” Nic said firmly. “Made just for you.”

“Yeah, sweetie. Better watch it, or I’ll embroider a flower instead
of a fern on yours next time. Make it pretty, like mine,” Emma told Zack with a
smile, pulling on her own hat. Pink, with a delicate, multipetaled knitted white
flower on the side, pearly beads adorning its center. Completely frivolous and
girly. And more importantly right now, nice and warm.

“Did you make that one too?” Nic asked.

“Yeah. Everything I have on, I made. Except the bikini. I bought
that.”

“You still like pink, I notice.”

“I enjoy being a girl,” she said, adjusting her hat so the
flower sat just over one ear.

“Yeh. Noticed that too.” He looked away, slung the pack over
his shoulders, spun the rugby ball, tossing it back and forth in one hand in a
complicated series of moves. “Ready, mate?”

“Yeh!” Zack said, handing his mother the thermos cup.

Emma followed behind as the two of them ran down the beach
together, passing the ball back and forth. Nic sometimes had to lunge for
Zack’s passes when they went a bit wild, but her son wasn’t too bad, she
thought with pride. Nic had Zack run farther along, then kicked the ball to
him, shouting in approval when Zack caught it. Then encouraged Zack to kick it
back, an attempt that went sadly awry. The ball sailed into the sea, and Nic
had to wade out for it.

“Sorry,” Zack called. Nic just waved at him, kicked it back.
“Try again,” he shouted. Zack’s second attempt was a bit more accurate, and Nic
made a ridiculously athletic leaping catch, pulling the ball in somehow with
one big hand.

“Mum!” Zack came running to her some time later, Nic
following behind, doing that flicking thing with the ball again, rolling it
from wrist to elbow and back. Zack’s cheeks were red with exertion and
excitement, brown eyes alive with the joy of the day. “Did you see me kick?”

“I did,” Emma told him with pride. “You did great.”

“Well, not always,” Zack said honestly. “Nic had to go back
into the water a couple times to get it.”

“Nah,” Nic said, resting a hand on Zack’s head, giving it a gentle
shake. “Getting used to kicking it barefoot, that’s all. Bit different.”

“But Mum,” Zack said, squirming. “I need to pee. Really bad.
And I don’t know where the toilets are.”

“Oh.” Emma looked back in the direction they had come.

Nic laughed. “That’s the best part of being a bloke. The
world’s your toilet.”

“Really? I can just go? What if somebody sees, though?” Zack
looked around worriedly.

“Well, if it were a bit warmer, we’d just walk you out into
the sea,” Nic said. “Nobody about anyway, though. Come on. Over here, by this bit
of rock.”

They were back a couple minutes later. “Nic says it’s OK,
Mum,” Zack told Emma earnestly.

“If he says so,” Emma smiled at him, “I suppose it is.” She
pulled out a water bottle, ran it over his hands. “You still have to wash your
hands, though. Rub. And then I’ll give you a sammie.”

They spread out another big towel, perched on it while Nic
and Zack devoured the ham-and-cheese sandwiches Emma had prepared. She handed
them each an apple, took one for herself. Wrapped an arm around her knees to
warm herself, looked out at the breaking waves, her ears full of their dull
roar. She took in a deep breath of salty air and knew that this was the best
day she’d had in a long time. Seeing Zack so happy, after last weekend’s misery.
And being with Nic, with his obvious enjoyment of their company, their
surroundings, the day. He had always had it, this quality of living in the
moment, taking every bit of pleasure from it.

Just now, he was picking up a small stone, rubbing it
between his fingers. “Look at this,” he told Zack. “What does it look like to
you?”

“A rugby ball!”

“Yeh. Exactly, doesn’t it? It’s even white, with a bit of
green. Just like the real thing.” Nic passed the elliptical shape to Zack.
“Smooth, too. That’s spent a fair bit of time in the water, I reckon. Feel it.”