Just for Now (31 page)

Jenna sat down with them, began to nibble a dry piece of
toast, took a sip from her cup of ginger tea to settle her ever-queasy stomach.
“Sometimes, when we have bad dreams, that can help. It makes their power go
away. I think it might make that taniwha go away too.”

“I remember now,” Harry said firmly. “Daddy’s going to tell
the taniwha not to come any more.”

“That’s right. We’ll do that after school,” Jenna promised. “Sophie,
would you like to send your Dad something too? A story, or a picture?”

“Both,” Sophie said immediately. “Can we get some new
stickers?”

“Of course we can,” Jenna assured her. “We’ll stop at the
shop after school, and then you can draw him something really special. He’d
love that.”

“Cheers for the parcel,” Finn told her a few days later. “I
was never happier to open an envelope.”

“Hang on a minute. I’m going to put you on speakerphone.”
Jenna pressed the button, then hung up the receiver.

“Is everybody there?” Finn’s gravelly voice came through the
speaker.

“Yeh, Daddy. We’re here,” Sophie answered.

“Sophie Bee. Thanks for your picture. It’s on the wall above
my bed right now. It’s very, very pretty. Prettiest thing in my room. Heaps
prettier than my roomie, I’ll tell you that.”

“What about my picture?” Harry demanded. “It’s a taniwha,
did you know that?”

“I did,” Finn told him. “It looks very scary.”

“He’ll be scared of you, though, Dad. Jenna said.”

“She said you’d been dreaming about that taniwha again,” he
agreed.

“Not since I made the picture,” Harry informed him. “Jenna
said that would make him go away, and she was right. But can you tell him too?
Just in case?”

“I’ll tell him,” Finn promised.

“Where are you, Dad?” Sophie chimed in.

“About to get on the bus to go to practice. We’ve got some
work to do before the game on Saturday. We were looking a bit rusty after the
layoff. But no worries, we’ll get that sorted.”

“Too right, Dad,” Sophie told him stoutly. “The Irish aren’t
going to be able to beat you.”

“Not if we can help it. We don’t mean to be the first ABs
squad to lose to them. Not after 108 years. You’ll have to tell me what you
think, Sophie. Give me a critique of my performance. I need to go, though. Just
wanted to wish you good night.”

“Goodnight, Dad,” Harry said.

“No taniwha tonight,” Finn told him seriously.

“Nah. You’ve scared it away. I can tell.”

“Goodnight, Sophie Bee.”

“Night, Dad.”

“Loading up. Bye.” He hung up, and Jenna wished she could
have said goodnight too. She hoped she’d get her own call soon.

It came as she was finishing the washing-up the following
morning.

“Wanted to thank you again for sending that envelope,” he
told her. “I really do have the pictures above my bed. The boys are giving me
stick about my artwork. Especially Sophie’s. It’s all those flowers and
stickers, maybe. Not to mention the pink paper.”

Jenna laughed. “A little girly for an All Black bedroom?”

“This is one All Black who likes his bedroom as girly as
possible,” he assured her. “In fact, it could use a girl in it about now.”

“My bedroom’s a bit short on testosterone too,” she
admitted. “I miss you.”

“Miss you too. But the note helped. Seeing your handwriting,
somehow.”

“It did?” she asked, pleased. “I don’t want to tell you how
much it cost to send that envelope to Ireland.”

“Worth every penny.”

“Then I’ll have them do more,” she decided. “It helps them,
too. Makes them feel closer to you. Not to mention scaring away the taniwha.”

She wished she had someone to scare off her own taniwha as
she lay on the table the next day while the doctor did her exam. Her lost
pregnancy hung over her like a shadow, making her breath come short as she
awaited the verdict.

“We’ll do a blood test,” the doctor said, straightening up
and snapping off her gloves, rolling her stool closer to Jenna’s head. “But there’s
no doubt about it. You’re pregnant.”

“Does everything look . . . all right?” Jenna asked.

“Just the way it should,” the doctor reassured her. “Now, do
you have a midwife you’re planning on using? Or do you want a recommendation?”

“I need a recommendation.” She didn’t know whom to ask
anyway. She couldn’t tell Natalie, or Siobhan. Not when Finn didn’t know yet.  

The doctor wrote a name and phone number on a prescription
pad as Jenna sat up and draped the sheet over herself.

“You should begin taking prenatal vitamins as well, if you
haven’t already,” the woman said. “No alcohol, no caffeine. And what about the
dad? Is he in the picture?”

“I don’t know,” Jenna forced herself to answer honestly. “He
doesn’t know yet.”

“Sooner rather than later would be good,” the doctor
advised. “In my experience.”

Thud.
Jenna whirled just in time to watch the three-liter
container of milk begin to spill out over the kitchen floor. A lake of white
swiftly covered the tiles, to the accompaniment of Harry’s wailing cry. She
stepped across, unable to avoid the mess, and grabbed the jug before it could spill
any more. Not enough left, she saw with dismay, to avoid a trip to the dairy
this afternoon. And she’d just bought groceries that morning. Setting the
depleted jug down on the kitchen bench, she grabbed three tea towels from the
drawer, tossed one each to Harry and Sophie.

“OK, guys. Not a disaster. Help me wipe this up. Harry,
please stop crying. It was an accident.”

“Why do I have to help?” Sophie complained from her spot at
the kitchen table. “I didn’t spill it. And I’m reading.”

“Because we’re all cleaning up,” Jenna snapped. “Get up and
help.”

She regretted her tone as she saw Sophie’s face grow
mutinous, Harry continuing to sob quietly. She crouched down to begin wiping up
the mess, glad to see Sophie rising reluctantly to obey. The movement, and the
smell of the milk, brought nausea in its wake. She’d never thought of milk as having
a smell, she thought irrelevantly, trying to push the sickness away. Harry was
wiping willingly, if inexpertly, Sophie was helping now too, and the lake was
becoming a puddle.

“OK.” She got up, had to steady herself against the fridge
door, give herself a moment. “Go sit at the table, both of you, out of the way.
I’ll mop the rest of it.”

“My feet are all milky,” Harry sniffed.

“I’ll clean them in a minute. Go sit down.”

Sophie protested again at the trip to the dairy. “I have
homework. Can’t I stay home?”

“You aren’t old enough,” Jenna told her. “Come on. We’ll
call it a walk.”

“Why can’t we drive?” Sophie complained. “We’ve walked
enough today. Courtney’s mum drives her to school. Why do we always have to
walk?”

“Because it’s six blocks. And only four blocks to the
dairy,” Jenna told her. “I am not driving four blocks. Get your shoes on.”

She could hear Sophie muttering as she stomped off. She was
clearly having a bad day, and Jenna would need to get to the bottom of that
later, she thought wearily. They were well into their third week without Finn,
and the strain was showing on both children, especially Sophie. And on herself,
she admitted.

The smell of roasting chicken in the dairy’s tiny rotisserie
assaulted her before they stepped through the door. She took a deep breath of
outside air, tried to hold it as she walked past the prepared food area and
made her way to the chiller case. No queue, she saw with relief. She’d pay
fast, and get out of here before she was sick.

“Can we get Tim Tams?” Sophie was in front of her, holding
out the package of chocolate biscuits.

“No. Put them back, please.” Jenna held onto her patience with
an effort, set the milk on the counter. “We have biscuits at home.”

“Only digestives,” Sophie complained. “I hate digestives. I
want Tim Tams.”

Jenna swiped her card to pay for the milk, took the plastic
bag with a word of thanks. “Put it back, Sophie. We’re going.” She had to get
out of here, she thought desperately.

Sophie stomped over, threw the packet back on the shelf.
Jenna grabbed Harry’s hand and headed for the door, Sophie following
thunderously behind.

“Why are you so
mean?”
Sophie burst out from behind
her before they’d even gone a block. “You never let me have anything I want!
Daddy
would let me have Tim Tams!
Nyree
would let me!”

“Nyree isn’t here, though.” She was snapping again, Jenna
knew, but she couldn’t seem to help herself. She’d been sicker than ever,
today. Had spent thirty minutes in the bathroom after walking the kids to
school. She’d thought that was the low point. Unless she got home and sat down,
though, she was going to be sick again. She reached for a digestive from her
purse, bit off a piece and chewed it slowly.

“You’re
eating biscuits,” Sophie accused. “Why do you
get what you want, and I don’t? You’re not our mum! You
work
for us! You’re
just a nanny!”

Jenna stopped dead. Turned to glare down at Sophie. The
little girl looked up at her defiantly, but Jenna could see the trepidation in
her eyes. It didn’t matter, though. Because it was all too much.

“Nobody talks to me like that,” she told Sophie furiously.
“I’m a
person.
I deserve to be treated with respect.” She couldn’t help
the tears that began to spill over. “I know you’ve had a bad day, and you know
what? I’m sorry, but I’ve had a bad day too!” She could feel her voice rising,
found herself unable to control it. “I’m sick, and I’m tired, and I’ve had just
about enough of you! You’re acting like a spoilt brat, and I am
sick
of
it!”

She was sobbing now as she held the bag of milk with one
hand, Harry’s hand with the other. “And I don’t want to hear
anything
else.
We’re going home, and I don’t want to hear another word out of you till we get
there, do you understand?”

Both children were crying now as well. Somehow, they made it
the final three blocks home, Jenna grabbing Sophie’s hand at the corners,
ignoring her attempts to pull away. When they reached the house again, Jenna
kicked her shoes off, shoved the milk into the fridge. Grabbed three paper
towels and handed one each to Sophie and Harry, wiped her own face with the
third.

She took a deep breath. “We are all going to our rooms now,”
she said, keeping her voice calm with an effort. “We’re going to have some
quiet time. And then we’re going to have a talk.”

“I didn’t
do
anything, though,” Harry sobbed. “Why’re
you angry at me?”

“I’m not angry at anyone now,” Jenna promised. “And you
didn’t do anything, Harry. But I’m tired, and I feel sick, and we all need to
be quiet for a few minutes. Can you go play with your animals, please?”

To her relief, Harry nodded and made his subdued way to his
bedroom. Sophie gave her a scared look and followed suit. She should talk to her
now, Jenna knew. But she couldn’t. She’d lost it, and she couldn’t even care.
She went to her own room, shut the door, and lay face-down on the bed, finally
giving in to the sobs that overcame her.

It wasn’t fair. She was doing her best, she was sick, she
was alone, and nobody cared. She knew in one part of her brain that she was
overreacting, that she was worn out, hormonal, and overemotional, but she was
past being rational. She sobbed until she’d cried herself out, then sat on the
bed, wiping her face and blowing her nose, trying to get herself back under
control.

She left her bedroom at last, spent another five minutes in
the bathroom with a cold cloth on her face. Finally went next door to Harry’s
room. He was sitting on the floor, surrounded by dinosaurs, softly narrating a
scene as he moved Tyrannosaurus closer to a herd of plant-eaters.

“Hey, buddy.” Jenna dropped to the floor and put a hand on
the back of his neck. “How’re you doing?”

Harry looked up at her cautiously. “Are you done being
angry?”

“I’m done,” she promised. “I’m sorry if I scared you.” She
reached out to hug him, and he came gratefully into her arms.

“I don’t like yelling,” he told her. “It hurts my ears, and
it makes me sad.”

“I don’t like it either,” Jenna agreed. “I hate losing my
temper, in fact. But I guess Sophie had a bad day, and I did too. I lost my
patience, and then I lost my temper. I’m sorry about that, and I’ll bet
Sophie’s sorry, too. We’re going to have a nice quiet evening. We’ll have
dinner, and if you both get yourselves ready for bed, we’ll watch a DVD
together.”

“
The Lion King?”
he asked eagerly.

Jenna smiled. “I think maybe not
The Lion King.”
That
would be all Sophie needed. Watching Mufasa being killed was guaranteed to set
her off again. Too bad they’d watched
Finding Nemo
so recently. That
would have been perfect. “We’ll choose something good. I’m going to go talk to
Sophie now. And then I’ll start fixing tea.”

He nodded and went back to his dinosaurs. One down. And the
tricky one still to go.

She tapped on the closed door of Sophie’s room. “Come in,”
came the muffled voice.

Jenna stepped inside cautiously, saw Sophie stretched out on
her bed, face buried in the pillow. Exactly as she herself had looked, fifteen
minutes earlier. She sat down on the bed next to the still form. “Hey,” she
said softly. Reached out a hand and stroked Sophie’s hair. “How’re you doing?”

Sophie rolled over, lifted a swollen, tear-stained face. “Do
you hate me?”

“Oh, sweetie. Of course I don’t hate you.”

Sophie’s tears started again. “I didn’t mean to be spoilt
and . . . and mean. I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” she sobbed.

“Hey, now.” Jenna lifted Sophie to sit next to her, reached
for a tissue to clean her up. “I’m sorry too. I lost my temper. We both had a
bad day, and we said some things that came out of those bad feelings.”