Just for Now (5 page)

“Not much of a guilty pleasure.” He looked her over. “Pretty
tame evening, I’d say.”

“Glass of wine,
Jane Eyre,
in my dressing gown,
”
she
agreed. “That’s about the size of it.”

“May have been more entertaining than mine, at that,” he
told her, starting to laugh. “Couldn’t quite get over those naff pressies.”

Jenna couldn’t resist a chuckle of her own. “I thought the
kids did all right, after the initial shock. But yeah, she couldn’t have chosen
much worse. Poor Ashley. She must not know them very well.”

“I’ve talked to her about them, though,” he said
thoughtfully. “I’m sure I’ve told her that Harry doesn’t care for sport, and
Sophie does.”

“Adults without kids can make assumptions,” she said.
“Sometimes even adults
with
kids. They tend to think that kids will like
whatever they themselves liked when they were young. They don’t realize that
children are individuals, just as much as adults are.”

“You realize it, though. And you don’t have any.”

Jenna flushed, felt the familiar stab of pain. “No. But I’ve
been a teacher for six years. When you have a classroom full of five-year-olds,
believe me, you understand pretty quickly that they’re all different. You can
say, for example, that boys in general are more active and noisier. But even
there, you’re just generalizing. Look at Harry and Sophie. Harry doesn’t care
about sport, and Sophie loves it. When we watched your game last night, Sophie
was explaining the penalties and the tactics to me. I hate to tell you, but
Harry was back to looking at the new dinosaur book we got from the library well
before the break.”

He smiled. “My son isn’t my biggest fan.”

“You’re wrong,” she corrected gently. “He
is
your
biggest fan. One of the two, anyway. Just not your biggest rugby fan. That
would be Sophie.”

“Why
do
you like kids so much, though, and understand
them so well?” he asked her. “Even before you took this job, you’d got to know
the kids. Why? It wasn’t to meet me. I’ve been put right on that. And most
people don’t pay any attention to other people’s kids.”

“I don’t know.” She shrugged, a little embarrassed. “I like
kids better than adults, to tell you the truth. I relate to them better, I
suppose. Kids are honest. You know what they’re really thinking. They’re going
to tell you the truth.”

He looked at her more sharply. “As opposed to who? Your
ex-husband?”

“What? Why do you think I was married?”

“Pretty obvious. You listed another name on your CV. You
either got married since you stopped teaching, which doesn’t seem likely, or
you were married before. He lied, eh.”

“Yeah. But hey, if we’re going to tell sad marriage stories,
we could be here all night. And it’s past my bedtime.” She stood and picked up
her empty wine glass, gathered up his dishes. “See you in the morning.”

He watched her go, sorry he’d brought it up. That had
cleared the room in a hurry. Pity. Chatting with her had been the most fun he’d
had all evening.

 “Wanted to tell you, you can start your time off earlier
than I originally said, this week,” Finn said over a late breakfast the
following Saturday.  

“Oh?” Jenna turned from the stove to slide another tall stack
of pancakes onto his plate. Good thing she’d doubled the recipe. She averted
her eyes to avoid a closeup view of the line of stitches along his eyebrow and
the bruise that had formed around them. “When do you mean?”

“Ashley’s coming by to cook dinner tonight,” he told her,
pouring syrup liberally over the multigrain pancakes and topping the stack with
a heaping spoonful of chopped oranges and kiwifruit and a dollop of vanilla
yoghurt. “So you’re free to go out.”

 “What will we do?” Sophie asked. “Do we get to go with
Jenna?”

“Nah,” he frowned at her. “That’s the point, eh. Ashley
wants to make dinner for all of us.”

“Jenna too?” Harry piped up.

“No,” Jenna put in, as she saw Finn looking uncomfortable.
“Just you two and your dad. That’s nice of her, isn’t it? It’s nice for me too.
I’ll get to go out on Saturday night. Do you need another pancake, Sophie? And
Finn, want another egg or two to go with those?”

“No, thanks,” Sophie said. Finn nodded, though, and Jenna
cracked a final three eggs onto the griddle together with her own pancakes.

“What time does this cooking extravaganza begin?” she asked.
“So I can make sure everything’s ready. Does she need anything special?
Groceries?”

“No groceries. She’s bringing them. And she said five. But
you don’t have to leave straight away,” he hastened to assure her.

Jenna laughed. “Somehow, I think Ashley’d prefer it, though.
That’s fine. Do you need an icepack for your face, while I’m up?”

“Thanks.”

“Daddy, I thought that was a deliberate sprig,” Sophie said
with concern as Finn put the cold pack to his eye, continuing to eat bacon and
pancakes with the other hand. “Why wasn’t Nick Holmes sent off?”

“What’s a sprig?” Jenna asked curiously, serving Finn his
final eggs and bringing over her own plate of breakfast.

“Aw, got to expect a few sprig marks now and then at the
bottom of the ruck,” Finn shrugged. “No worries. And the sprigs are the spikes
in rugby boots,” he explained to Jenna. “My protective daughter thinks Nick
sprigged me deliberately last night.”

“I still think he did,” Sophie argued.

“If the refs started citing us all for a bit of carelessness
with our boots, I’d be in as much trouble as anyone,” he told her. “Got to have
a bit of mongrel in your game when you’re a loosie. Sorry, darling.”

“You’re not a dirty player, Dad,” Sophie said, shocked. “You’re
a hard man. That’s different.”

He smiled. “Reckon that depends on who you talk to. But I
hope not.”

“What’s a loosie?” Jenna asked. “Sophie, Harry, if you’re
finished, please put your dishes in the dishwasher.”

“Loose forward. Six, seven, eight,” he explained.  

“You’re eight, I know that,” Jenna said. “Have you always
played that position?”

“Yeh,” Sophie broke in. “Dad’s been the best No. 8 in New
Zealand for ages. Loads of people think he’s the best in the world,” she
announced proudly. “That’s why he’s always selected for the All Blacks, since
before I was born.”

“Aw, you’ll make me blush,” Finn told her, reaching over to
pull her close to him and give her a kiss. “Some of the young boys are nipping
at my heels now. Hoping to hang onto that starting spot for another couple
years, though. One more World Cup, anyway, next year. It’d be choice to repeat
as world champions. Specially since nobody’s done it yet.”

“Nobody’s won two in a row?” Jenna asked in surprise.

He looked at her, amused. “You didn’t happen to hear that,
last time around? It was only three years ago, and I know you were here then. You
may recall that we won. It made a wee bit of a splash at the time.”

“Sorry. My rugby indoctrination’s been minimal. My hu—  My
friends were never interested in rugby, and it barely exists in the U.S. Good
thing I have Sophie to educate me now.” Jenna smiled affectionately at the
little girl as she got up to clear her plate and Finn’s own, moved to the sink
to start the dishes.

“I’ll help you, Jenna.” Harry picked up the syrup carefully
and brought it to the kitchen island.

“Thanks, buddy. How about if we go to the library after
this, guys, let your dad rest?”

“Need a little time in the spa,” Finn admitted.

“Can we come in with you?” Harry asked.

“For a bit,” he agreed. “Help Jenna first, both of you, then
get your togs on.”

“Go on and do your run once you’re done here, if you like,
before the library,” he told Jenna. “I’ll be around anyway.”

“Thanks. I’ve missed a couple days.”

“Thought so. School holidays make it tough. You need to ring
Nyree’s cousin, set something up for next week. She can come in and help out a
couple days, give you a break.”

“Miriam’s nice,” Harry agreed, carefully putting the carton
of eggs back into the fridge. “Not as nice as you, though, Jenna.”

“Don’t tell Miriam that, when she comes,” Finn admonished
his son. “You’ll hurt her feelings.”

“Well. Wasn’t that fun?” Ashley asked brightly as Finn
finished the last bite and set his napkin on the table. “I enjoy cooking so
much.”

Finn couldn’t suppress a little smile. Ashley’s cooking was
definitely on the low-calorie side, which his children had been decidedly
unenthusiastic about. Almost as unenthusiastic, he admitted, as he was himself.
Skinless, boneless chicken breasts, a green salad, and steamed broccoli had
obviously done yeoman service in maintaining Ashley’s slim figure, but he found
himself hoping that there was still some of Jenna’s lamb and roasted vegies in
the fridge for a late-night snack. And maybe the vanilla slice she’d made the
other day for pudding. He thought there was a bit of that left.

“Thank you, Ashley. That was delicious,” he told her. He
fixed his children with his best reminding stare until they echoed his thanks.
“Let’s all help clean up. Get it done quicker,” he suggested.

“Can’t we leave it for . . . Jane?” Ashley asked. “Isn’t she
the housekeeper?”

“Jenna,” Finn corrected with a frown. “And it’s her day off
tomorrow.”

“Right.” Ashley sighed. “Though I don’t understand the point
of hiring help if they won’t, you know,
help
you. Surely she could do a
bit of washing-up before she started her day off.”

“Jenna helps all the time,” Harry said, outraged. “She cooks,
and she washes up, and she washes our clothes.”

“And she takes us to school, and drives us,” Sophie added,
springing to Jenna’s defense in her turn. “And helps with homework, and
everything.”

“Well, since Jenna helps us so much,” Finn pointed out,
anxious to placate an increasingly ruffled-looking Ashley, “Let’s help her by
doing the washing-up, eh.”

He looked around in shock upon entering the kitchen. The
family normally ate at the table set at one end of the big room, but Ashley had
insisted on setting an elegant dining room table, including tablecloth and candles.
And had excluded him from the kitchen while she “worked her magic.” If “magic”
meant “destruction,” she’d worked it, right enough. Every utensil and pan she
had used was scattered around, and the stovetop and benches were a sticky mess.
How had she managed all this, with her limited menu?

“Right,” he decided. “If you kids can clear the plates,
we’ll get started here.”

Jenna shivered as she ran the last couple blocks from the
bus stop. She’d enjoyed her evening out with Natalie, but the rain had started
in earnest after the movie had let out. She hadn’t wanted to come back in the
middle of the evening, try to steal off to her own room without the kids seeing
her. It was after eleven now, though. She was tired and wet, and ready to be
home.

She used her key to enter the quiet house, slipped off her
soaked boots and coat in the entryway. Finn appeared in the doorway to the
lounge, frowning at the sight of her dripping hair. His eyes traveled down to the
wet jersey clinging to her body, lingered there for a moment before he brought
them hurriedly back up to her face again.

“Forget your umbrella?”

“Blew inside out in the middle of Queen Street,” she told
him ruefully. She was surprised to see Ashley appear and slip an arm through
Finn’s.

“Don’t let me disturb you,” Jenna told the two of them. “I’m
headed to bed anyway, once I wring myself out.”

“I was a bit concerned about you when it started raining so
hard,” Finn said. “Next time, you should take a car.”

“I was fine,” she assured him, seeing the impatience on
Ashley’s face. “Off to bed now, though. Nice to see you again, Ashley.”

The other woman nodded briefly. “Come on, darling,” she
urged, taking Finn’s hand to pull him back into the lounge.

He gave one last look over his shoulder at Jenna, then let
Ashley lead him off.

“Jenna!” Harry called out, coming in the front door late the
following morning. “Are you home?”

“Jenna’s day off.” Finn pulled his son back when he would
have dashed ahead. “If she’s here, we need to leave her alone. You can say
hello. But then we’re having Dad Time.”

 “Jenna!” Harry called out as he ran. “We went to the museum!
We saw the moa again! And cockroaches! They were really alive!”

Finn caught up with Harry at the kitchen doorway, then
stopped at the sight of Jenna on her knees, halfway inside the oven, the racks
leaning against the wall next to her. “What are you doing?”

“Oh.” She shrugged, backing out and pushing her hair back
with one rubber-gloved hand. “Just taking care of a spill.”

“The oven.” Finn exchanged a glance with Sophie. “We didn’t
think of that.”

“Ashley’s messy,” Sophie explained. “We tried to clean up.
But we forgot about the oven.”

“Why are you cleaning it, though?” Finn asked.

“I didn’t want to leave it till tomorrow,” Jenna explained.
“As soon as anyone turned the oven on, that spill would’ve become even harder
to get off. I wish New Zealand had entered the Age of the Self-Cleaning Oven,
but I’ve never even seen one here.”

“Why didn’t you wait for me, or leave a note?” Finn
demanded. “I’d have cleaned it. Would’ve cleaned it last night, except I didn’t
realize Ashley’d managed to . . . that there’d been a spill.”

“All right,” Jenna said, surprised but agreeable. “I’m
letting you know now. Finn, there’s a bad spill in the oven.” She stripped off
her rubber gloves and slapped them into his palm with a smile. “Be my guest.”

He laughed. “That’s told me.”

“Since I’m a lady of leisure, then,” Jenna said to Harry,
“I’m going to make a cup of tea and ask about the museum. You guys saw live
cockroaches? That sounds very interesting.”