Just for Now (6 page)

“Very disgusting, is what it was,” Finn said. “A whole
colony of them. These gloves are useless. I can’t even get them on.”

Jenna looked over and laughed at the sight of him trying to
force the gloves over his huge hands. “I don’t think they make them in Rugby
Forward Size. And that cleaner is caustic. Let me finish wiping it out, then
you can do the rest, once I’ve got rid of the bad stuff.” She took the gloves
from Finn again, put them on, and dove into the oven once more.

“Jenna, you know what?” Harry said from behind her. “You
have a bottom like a wombat!”

Jenna nearly hit her head on the oven ceiling as she pulled
it out and sat back on her heels. “What?” she asked, staring at Harry.

“Harry!” Finn barked at his son. “That was dead rude.
Apologize to Jenna.”

“Sorry, Jenna,” Harry said, his lip trembling at his
father’s tone. “I didn’t know I shouldn’t say.”

“I forgive you,” Jenna told him. “But it isn’t polite to
talk to ladies about their bottoms. It isn’t polite to say things about how
people look anyway, unless you’re saying something very nice, like, “Your dress
is pretty.”

“But I
am
saying something very nice,” Harry argued,
anxious to explain himself. “Wombats have special bottoms. Their bottoms are
their superpowers!”

“Remember, Sophie?” he appealed to his sister. “When Dad
took us to Aussie, and we saw them?”

“Hmm? Yeh,” Sophie agreed, looking up from her book. “They
looked funny, I thought.”

“You see, Jenna,” Harry went on earnestly, “wombats dig
tunnels. They have very powerful legs for digging. And if a dingo comes to try
to get into the tunnel, the wombat can back up. It blocks the tunnel with its
bottom. The dingo tries to get its face around the wombat. Then the wombat squeezes
with its bottom, and it squishes the dingo!”

“Ah,” Jenna said, trying not to laugh. “Superpower bottoms.
I see.”

“Even though wombat bottoms may be nice,” Finn put in, a
smile attempting to escape his own stern expression, “we still don’t talk about
ladies’ bottoms. Not ever.”

“Sorry, Jenna,” Harry said again, looking worried. “Are you
angry?”

Jenna reached out to give him a hug, then remembered the
rubber gloves. “No. Of course not. Your dad told you, and now you know.” She
turned back to the oven again, then stopped. It
had
been kind of funny,
but she wasn’t about to offer Finn another view of her Wombat Bottom.

“Ah . . .” she looked around. “Why don’t you let me finish
up in here? The fumes,” she realized with relief. “I’ll come tell you, Finn,
when I’ve got most of the oven cleaner wiped out and you can get in there with
the elbow grease.”

“Course. Let’s go,” he told the kids. “Leave Jenna to get on
with it.”

He didn’t know much about wombats, Finn thought as he
shepherded Harry and Sophie out of the kitchen. He knew a thing or two about
ladies’ bottoms, though. Jenna’s may or may not have been able to squish a
dingo’s face. But it definitely had some superpowers.

“Explain this loose forward thing to me,” Jenna told Sophie
as they watched the telecast of the Blues’ game against the Brumbies in
Canberra on Saturday evening. “Why are they loose?”

“We have to wait for a scrum,” Sophie said. “Then I’ll
explain.”

“OK,” she said a few minutes later. “The Brumbies just
knocked on, and now our team gets a scrum. Look at how the forwards are lined
up. The tight five, the first rowers and the ones just behind them, see how
they’re hanging on to each other? That’s why they’re tight. The six and seven in
the second row, they’re pushing too, but they’re at the edges. That’s why they’re
loosies.”

“I get it. And your dad’s at the back. He’s pushing too. But
he’s not . . . attached. So he’s loose too.”

“Right. He’s a forward, but he kind of works between the
forwards and the backs. He works in the scrum and the ruck, and he jumps during
the lineouts too. Because he’s so tall,” Sophie said proudly. “But he carries
the ball as well. And he’ll help get it to the backs so they can run with it.
Daddy has to be strong
and
fast. He has to understand the game plan too,
and what the other team’s likely to do. He has to study heaps.”

Sophie leaned forward as Finn delivered the ball and the
group of backs began to run and pass, working toward the Brumbies try line.
“Come
on,
” she urged.
“Go.”
She leaped up as the ball carrier
went to the ground. “High tackle!” she shouted angrily. “Get him, Dad!”

She was jumping up and down now in her excitement, and Harry
looked up from the puzzle he was working on. Jenna watched in confusion as Finn
waded through the ruck to grab a Brumbies player by the jersey, pull him
roughly to his feet. She could see Finn’s mouth working as he held on, shoving
the other man, pushing him back. Several other Blues pulled Finn off, held him as
the trainer ran onto the field with his medical bag.

“Wait, wait. What’s going on?” Jenna asked. She watched with
relief as the injured player got up with the trainer’s help and walked to the
sideline, and the referee held up a yellow card.

“Sent off,” Sophie said with satisfaction as play resumed
and Harry went back to his puzzle, unimpressed. “Did you see how that player
wrapped his arm around Koti James’s neck when he tackled him? That’s a high
tackle. It can be really dangerous. That’s why the ref sinbinned him.”

“But what was your dad doing in there?” Jenna asked.

“I told you,” Sophie replied matter-of-factly. “He’s the
hard man.”

“He fights?” Jenna asked, appalled.

“Not
fights,”
Sophie clarified. “He didn’t punch him.
Then
he
would’ve been sent off. But if somebody needs sorting, Daddy’ll
do it.”

“He doesn’t need to do that, surely,” Jenna protested. “That
guy got sent off anyway. He got penalized for what he did.”

Sophie looked at her pityingly. “The ref doesn’t always
see
.
But Daddy always does.”

“Oh. Wow,” Jenna said blankly. “Hard man. Got it.”

“Wish we didn’t have to go back to school tomorrow,” Sophie
sighed the next morning over breakfast. “This holidays was too short.”

“Sounds like we’d better do something fun today, then,”
Jenna said. “We’re not going to mope around all day thinking about it.”

“Dad’s coming home from Aussie, though,” Sophie said
dubiously.

“Not till later this afternoon,” Jenna reminded her. “I
know. We’ll go to Parakai Springs. I’ve been wanting to take you two there
anyway. Today sounds like the perfect time.”

“What’s that?” Harry asked.

“A great big thermal pool,” Jenna explained. “Thermal means
that the water’s heated by geothermal forces under the earth. The same kind of
forces that produce volcanoes. What we saw in the museum, remember?”

“Yeh. Because the lava comes up between the plates,” Harry
said.

“That’s it. You know how hot lava is, so you can see why it
warms up the water. And it isn’t only warm water. They have water slides and a
fountain, too, that you can play in. Your dad said that you two swim pretty
well. I’d like to see that for myself.”

“Isn’t it too cold for swimming?” Sophie wondered.

“Nope. It’s just right. The warm water is going to feel so
good. Go on and find your togs and jandals, and I’ll get some towels and snacks
for us.”

“What if Daddy comes home and we aren’t here, though?” Sophie
worried again when she came back into the kitchen holding her swimming costume
and flip-flops.

“I’ve written him a note,” Jenna promised. “Telling him where
we are, and that we’ll be back soon.”

“Swim to me,” Jenna encouraged Harry as Sophie watched. “You’re
doing great.”

“Dad!” Sophie cried, launching herself through the water. Harry
reached Jenna, looked up, and was hard on his sister’s heels.

Jenna turned in surprise to see Finn wading across the pool,
picking up a child in each arm along the way.
Wow.
That was the only
word that came to mind. Despite their close quarters, she’d never seen him this
closely without his shirt before. There was a lot of chest and shoulder there.
A whole lot. He held both children easily, biceps and forearms bulging with
their weight, thighs flexing beneath his swim trunks as he moved through the
water. As he reached her, though, her attention shifted to the liberal pattern
of bruises and scrapes showing clearly even through the light furring of hair
on arms and chest.

“Hi.” He set the kids down, watched them heading for the
side of the pool and hopping out again. “Thought I’d join you. Bit cold for
swimming, isn’t it?”

“Maybe for you and me,” she agreed. “But the kids are moving
around so much, they’re fine. They needed to get out, and I thought you’d be
home later. Were you upset not to find us there when you got in?”

“Nah. I got an earlier flight. No worries.”

“Watch me, Dad!” Harry called from the top of a slide.

“Watching,” Finn called back. He glanced at Jenna again.
Looked away and cleared his throat. “Are you sure that costume is . . . right
for you? For here, I mean.”

“What?” Jenna stared at him in shock. Turned back hastily to
check on the kids. “Sophie! Walk walk walk.” Even as she called out, she felt
the slow burn starting.

“Sorry I don’t look like Ashley,” she snapped as anger and
humiliation warred for pride of place within her. She pushed the humiliation
aside, focused on the anger. “This is how a real woman looks, one who actually
eats and has a normal body type. You don’t have any right to criticize my
costume, or my body. I don’t get paid enough to put up with that.”

She moved away from him. “Come on, Harry. Show me your
crawl. Swim to me.”

“Hang on,” Finn protested. “That wasn’t what I meant.”

“Did you see me, Dad?” Harry asked eagerly. “Were you
watching me swim?”

“Well done, mate,” Finn told him. “Can you swim back?”

“Aw, geez. Did you think I was saying you were fat?” he
asked Jenna as they watched Harry make his way back to the edge of the pool.

“Of course I did. Because that’s exactly what you were
saying.”

“Nah. It wasn’t. Not at all.”

“What, then?” Her eyes narrowed as she looked at him
suspiciously.

He gestured at her bikini top and
the boy short-style bottoms. “It’s a bit sexy, isn’t it?”

She looked down at herself. “This? Next to all these teenage
girls in their tiny bikinis? I don’t think so. Nobody’s looking at me.”

“You’re joking. It’s . . . the way you fill it out. You must
know that. Look at that poor bloke.” He gestured in the direction of the
teenage lifeguard. “Hope nobody drowns anytime soon, because he’s bloody
useless, the way he’s staring at you. If he has to get down off that stand,
he’s going to embarrass himself.”

“Really?” She turned to look, gave the boy a wave, watched
him turn hastily away. “Wow. Cool. Although actually, you know, he’s probably a
rugby fan, looking at you.”

Finn laughed. “Trust me. He wasn’t looking at me. I don’t
have what he likes. And you do. So much of it, too.”

“Again, inappropriate. Not as bad as I originally thought,”
she admitted. “But still. And I’m not going to wear some matronly one-piece
with a skirt, just because you think I have too much . . .” She broke off.

“Too much going on,” he said helpfully, trying hard not to stare
at her breasts. “No, not too much,” he corrected. “Just . . .
so
much. You’re
right, though. Stupid thing to say, and I shouldn’t be talking to you about it
anyway. I never realized, that’s all. You wear your clothes so loose.”

“I do? Are my clothes too big?”

He smiled. “Well, yeh, a bit. Unless you really are trying
to hide how you look.”

“Thanks for telling me. I was heavier,” she said
self-consciously. “I lost about fifteen kilos a year or two ago. And
transformed my body some, I guess.”

“All the running,” he guessed.

“Yeah. And strength training too. But I’m not used to
thinking I look OK. Buying this costume was a big step. I wasn’t sure. And then
when you said . . .”

“Sorry,” he said hastily. “But trust me, you look OK. More
than OK.”

“You, on the other hand, look battered,” she told him, eager
to change the subject. “It did look like a tough game. Sorry you lost.”

He grimaced. “Yeh, nah, we were pretty gutted. We weren’t the
form team last night, that was clear. Couldn’t do the business in the end, even
with that yellow card.”

“I saw. Sophie explained the penalty to me, luckily, or I’d
have been completely confused about what was going on. But do you always get that
beat up? All those bruises?”

“That’s the job, eh. My possie too. My position,” he
explained. “Offense and defense. Tackling, and getting tackled. I hit the
ground a fair few times in eighty minutes.”

“Then you should go sit in the spa pool,” she suggested.
“Soak some of that out. Wouldn’t that feel better than standing here in the
cold air?”

But the cold air was doing so much for her, he thought, keeping
his eyes on her face with an effort.
Quit perving,
he scolded himself.
Hard not to, though. When he’d first seen her with the kids, he’d been
gobsmacked. The way her backside filled out those little purple shorts, their
low rise showing off the curve of her hips. And when she’d turned around and he’d
had a squiz at the front view, it had fair taken his breath away. Maybe she
shouldn’t wear her clothes any tighter, he decided. Because he had to live in
the same house with her. That was going to be a bit of a challenge, now that he
had the full picture.

“Why don’t we all go over there?” he asked. “You must be
getting cold yourself.”

“It’s probably time. Harry! Sophie!” she called. “Come on.”

“Wow,” Harry breathed, watching from the spa pool as a
teenaged boy dove from the higher of the pool’s two diving boards. “Cool.”