Just for Fun (7 page)

Keep plugging away. Do what she had to do, right now. That
was all she could do. All she’d ever been able to do.

“Mum!” Zack burst in through the front door. “It was
brilliant!” He kicked his shoes off impatiently, dropped his rugby boots next
to them before struggling out of his jacket. Nic followed him in, grabbed the
jacket and hung it on the brightly painted rack next to the door when Zack
would have dropped it on the floor.

Emma reached out for a hug that, Nic saw, the boy was still
willing to give his mother, at least here at home. Her eyes met Nic’s as she looked
over her son’s head. How did she always look so soft? So . . . pettable? She
was wearing another sweater, that was all, he told his troublesome libido.
Another light, lacy one, prettily trimmed once again. A pale pink cardigan with
pearly shell buttons, edged in cream, over a long stretchy top and leggings. She
looked like an invitation to cuddle. Like the best blankie ever.

“Can Nic stay for dinner, Mum?” Zack asked excitedly,
offering a welcome distraction from his wayward train of thought. “He could
help me tell you all the things we did. We’re having spaghetti!” he told Nic.
“It’s really good.”

“Can’t, mate. Sorry,” Nic put in hastily at Emma’s
instinctive shake of the head. “But I’ll have a glass of water, if one’s on
offer.”

“Sit down,” Emma told him. “Please.”

Nic slipped off his own shoes before heading to the couch
with Zack. “Cheers,” he said as she came back from the kitchen to hand each of
them a glass, then took her own seat in a small armchair next to the couch, the
only other option the little room offered.

“You look tired,” she said abruptly. “And bruised. Are you
OK?”

“Just a bit confused on the sleep schedule, still,” Nic
admitted. “I took a wee pill on the flight home, but it never works that well.”

“It’s a long way, Mum,” Zack put in. “South Africa’s really
far.”

Nic took a long drink of the cold water, looked around for
something to set the glass on. “Coaster?”

“Just put it down,” Emma told him.

“Don’t want to spoil this,” he said, looking more closely at
the coffee table. The simple rectangle had been transformed into a forest of
ferns, with native birds peeping out from underneath fronds, perched in trees.
The parson-throated tui making a meal of red fruit, the colorful, stumpy takahe
on the forest floor, tiny fantails darting overhead.

“You can’t,” Emma assured him. “It’s all enamels. Everything
in this house is pretty indestructible.”

“Did you find the ruru yet?” Zack asked him, leaning
forward.

“Don’t tell me,” Nic said. “Let me look.” Zack watched him
eagerly as he searched and finally pointed triumphantly to a notch in a tree
where the owl blended into the bark. “There.”

“You did this too, eh,” he asked Emma. “Nice.”

“I did everything. That’s my decorating theme. Things I
made.”

“I like it,” he said. The warm colors of the lounge seemed
to cocoon them. Two walls were a rich caramel, the others a warm yellow. She
didn’t even paint every wall in a room the same color, he realized. Well, at
least in the kitchen it was all the same. Purple. He wondered what color her
bedroom was. How it looked. And found himself wishing, against every better
impulse, that he could see it.

“So did you kick?” she interrupted his thoughts to ask her
son. “Did you get your practice?”

“Yeh.” Zack’s smile was enormous. “And Nic explained, what I
told you. About when he kicks it back. So I can do it, when I’m nine. And I got
better already, Mum! He said!”

 “He needs better boots, though,” Nic remarked. “Where’d you
get those?”

“Trade Me. But they’re Pumas,” she hastened to add. “They
don’t have any holes or anything. And they’re the right size.”

“I know they’re Pumas. But they’re worn down.”

“Go wash your hands, sweetie,” she told Zack. “Bath can wait
till after dinner.”

“OK.” He bounced up, still buoyed by the excitement of the
afternoon. She watched him go, then turned back to Nic.

“Don’t tell me what he needs in front of him,” she said levelly.
“He doesn’t need to feel . . . deprived.”

“He’s not going to be deprived anymore,” Nic said in
frustration. “I’ll buy him new boots.”

“Don’t promise him that,” she said sharply. “It’s too soon.”

He didn’t answer her directly. “Blood test Wednesday,” he
reminded her. “Five. D’you need me to collect him? Because I can.”

“No. I’ll meet you there.”

He nodded, stood to leave as Zack came back into the room.
“Got to go have my own tea. See you in a couple days, mate.”

“Really?” Zack asked.

“I’m going to meet you and your mum. We’re going to see a
doctor,” Nic told him. “All together.” He looked across at Emma again.

“A doctor? I’m not ill. I don’t have to get a jab, do I?”
Zack asked in sudden alarm. 

“Why? D’you mind jabs?”

“I hate them.” Zack looked worried. “Mum. Do I have to get a
jab? I just
got
them.”

“A bit like that,” Emma admitted.

“We’ll do it together,” Nic said. “I’ll go first, and then
you. It won’t be so bad, I promise.”

“Really?” Zack looked at him doubtfully.

“Word of honor. And then we’ll have dinner, all together,”
Nic told him.

“We didn’t talk about that,” Emma protested.

“Hamburgers?” Zack asked, ignoring his mother.

“If you like. Hamburgers,” Nic agreed.

The drive back to Narrow
Neck again, his mind still back in the cozy lounge. The flat might not be
flash, but she’d made it into a home, he had to admit. And with all the money
he and Claudia
had spent, could he say that? He’d liked the sleek
modernity in their decoration of the big house, the black leather couches and white
walls, the recessed lighting and splashes of color that came from the modern
paintings that hung here and there, the dark wood pieces and gleaming hardwood
floors. He still liked it. But maybe it could use a bit of warming up.
Something. Some . . . touches. He shook his head. He wouldn’t have a clue how
to do that. Maybe he could ask Claudia.

But first, he had to get this over with. He felt the fatigue
overcoming him again at the thought. Maybe he could get some rest first. But
no. If he were going to get blood tests with Zack and Emma on Wednesday, he
needed to tell Claudia first. It was only fair. And it would be a long training
session tomorrow, followed by an endorsement obligation with Cooper’s. He had to
turn up, do a video session at their new bakery. And then he’d be telling
himself he was too tired again.

Harden up. Do it now. He pulled into the garage, walked
through the connecting door into the house without wasting any more time
thinking about it.

“Hello, darling. You’ve been awhile.” Claudia came into the entryway
where he was shedding shoes and jumper. “I was just about to eat without you.”

“Sorry,” he answered automatically. “What is there?”

“Steak,” she said. “Rose marinated it, fixed a salad and
some vegies too. All we have to do is grill it.”

“Give me a few minutes to take a shower, OK?”

“All right. But be quick, will you? I’ll get the steak
started.”

The warm water helped revive him. She was opening a bottle
of wine as he came downstairs again. “Want one?”

“Just a small one. Still a bit knackered from the time
change. I’ll fall asleep if I drink much. And be rubbish tomorrow.”

“Where did you get off to tonight, anyway?” she asked him as
they finished their dinner. She’d just wound up a long work story, with the
upshot that the long-sought, much-anticipated partnership looked to be within
her grasp. They sat at the sleek dark wood table, eating from heavy, square
white plates set on woven mats along with chunky cutlery and glassware. The
modern furnishings gave a stylish effect to the greenhouse-style dining room
that protruded from the back of the house, offering the feeling of eating in a
forest of the native plantings that surrounded it on three sides. Artfully
placed lights glowed amidst the fern trees, allowing them to appreciate the
greenery even at night. This was his favorite part of the house. A good place
to talk.

“Doing a bit of training with a kid,” he said, setting his
fork down and looking at Claudia. As flawless as always, her perfection
matching the room. Dark hair falling in a straight, glossy curtain to just
below her shoulders, makeup light but precise, defining her elegant features.
Her beautiful figure was, as ever, casually chic in slim jeans and a
deceptively simple heavy cotton shirt that hadn’t, he thought suddenly, come
from Trade Me or any Op Shop on the planet. He looked at her as if seeing her
for the first time. The last time, before he changed everything.

She looked up at him, took another dainty bite of salad and chewed
it carefully. Wiped her mouth. “What kid? Somebody’s son?”

He took a deep breath. Prepared for it. “My son.”

Her fork stayed in the air for a long moment as she stared
across at him, before she set it down with deliberate care. “I think you’d
better explain.” She was still calm, still collected, he saw. Irrationally, the
quality he’d always admired in her now annoyed him. What on earth
would
rattle
her?

He explained how he’d seen Zack at Rob’s camp. Then Emma. “I
checked his birthday. And I knew,” he finished. “And then I went to see her,
and she admitted it.”

“When was this?” she asked.

“Just before I left for Safa. Last Monday.”

“And you saw them again tonight.”

“Yeh. Took him out. He’s really good. Burning to play.”

She brushed that aside as the irrelevancy it was. “How do
you know? That he’s yours?”

“No proof yet,” he admitted. “We’re doing that on Wednesday.
And then I’ll make it official, do the legal things.”

“So you
don’t
really know,” she pointed out. “What
makes you think she’s telling the truth? That she isn’t just trying to trap
you? So you slept with her. So what? Who knows who else she was sleeping with
at the time, somebody like that?”

“I know. We were together. Trust me, there wasn’t anybody
else. It wasn’t like that anyway. And why would she agree to the blood test,
otherwise? Anyway, he looks like me. Got my eyes. When you see him, you’ll know
too. I don’t need a test to be sure.”

“But you’re getting one. You have that much sense, at least.
What does she expect? What’s she looking for?”

“She’s not looking for anything,” he protested. “She wasn’t
too keen on my being there at all.”

“Right.” She was clearly unconvinced. “She wasn’t happy that
a meal ticket fell at her feet. How do you know she didn’t do the whole thing
on purpose?”

“That was her strategic plan?” He was getting angry now.
“She’s a bloody bad schemer, then, isn’t she? Took about seven years to pay
off.”

“So it didn’t work out the way she was hoping. That doesn’t
mean she didn’t plan it.”

“This doesn’t matter anyway,” he said with exasperation.
“He’s here, and he’s mine. He’s in our life now, no matter how it started out.”

“
Our
life? How? What is she expecting?” Claudia asked
again.

“She’s not expecting anything. I told you. What
I’m
expecting is that I’ll pay the maintenance. And work out some kind of
visitation.”

“What kind of maintenance?” she asked in alarm. “What have
you said to her? You shouldn’t be having any kind of conversation like that.
Let your lawyer handle it, with hers. What were you thinking?”

“She doesn’t have a lawyer,” he said impatiently. “Can’t
afford one, I’m sure. They’re living in a tiny flat. It’s not hard to suss out,
anyway. There’s a formula. I checked already.”

“You checked. With Oliver?” she asked, referring to his
attorney. “Well, thank goodness for that. What did he say?”

“About the money? There’s a formula,” he repeated. “Simple
enough.”

“How much money are we talking about?” she demanded.

“Fifteen hundred a month,” he admitted. “That’s the top
bracket. If she has him all the time.”

She drew in her breath with a hiss. “Not like we can’t
afford it,” he pointed out.

“Now
we can. What about when you’re done playing,
though? This is our time to lay down a foundation for the future. We’ve
discussed that. Rugby isn’t forever.”

“He’s part of the future too,” Nic said angrily. “He’s my
son,
Claud. Not some . . . some disaster. A collapsed roof or something.”

“And what about our own children, when we have them? What
are you taking away from them?”

He’d never seen this side of her before, not in their
personal life. He’d known she could be ruthless at work—that was why that
partnership was looking so promising—but whatever he’d expected when he told
her, it wasn’t this.

“I’ll be as concerned for their welfare as I am for Zack’s,”
he said, his own voice hardening. “And that’s his name, by the way. Even though
you didn’t ask. Zack. Zachary, I guess. I don’t even know,” he realized. “I’ll
have to get the birth certificate sorted, too. So there isn’t an empty space
there.”

“She must feel like Christmas has come early,” she said
sarcastically. “Already planning the big move, I’m sure. On our money.”

“Nah. She hasn’t said a word about it. Hasn’t talked to me
about money at all. We’ve hardly had a chance. Barely had a conversation. She doesn’t
even want me to tell him yet, not till we’ve got to know each other a bit. But
yeh, I’d like them to move. The neighborhood’s good enough, but the flat’s
pretty dodgy. I’m thinking some kind of settlement, for the back support. What
I’d have been paying if I’d known.”

“What?
You have no legal obligation, Nic. Surely
Oliver explained that. I’ve barely touched on family law myself, thank God, but
even I know that. There’s no obligation until maintenance is ordered. You’d
better not have mentioned
that
to her. I’ll ring Oliver tomorrow,” she
decided. “Find out what the process is, what our options are.”