Something About Joe (23 page)

Today she’d
actually called in sick to the bank, something she’d normally never
do. But in the state she was in, she knew she wouldn’t be able to
work. Mitchell was off with Katie at playgroup. She needed time to
think things through, or she felt she’d go crazy.

So why was
she now walking to her bedroom, and picking up his jacket? She had
to give it back. She had no right to keep it here. She could mail
it, of course, but it was bulky and it was a nuisance to get to the
post office.

Who did she
think she was kidding? Allison knew she really wanted to see Joe.
If she took the jacket back she might see him, maybe work things
out. Explain. She sighed. Now she really knew she was kidding
herself.

She’d take
his jacket down to his house at Avalon on the Northern Beaches now.
She hadn’t been there, but she knew the address. It was the middle
of the day. He was unlikely to be home. She’d leave the jacket by
the front door. By returning this last link with him, maybe she’d
feel some sort of closure.

It was all she thought about during the hour
it took to drive away from the city center, through the bushland of
the Wakehurst Parkway, and then past a string of headlands and
sandy beaches she rarely found time to visit, to the beachside
suburb where Joe lived.

But as she
walked up the pathway to Joe’s front door, she saw his Harley
parked in the driveway. She stopped dead, feeling as though her
feet were frozen to the paving stones.

Her heart
thudded so quickly and so violently she gasped for air. Nausea rose
in her throat.

She couldn’t face him.

But it was over. She understood that. She
could just give him the jacket and go.

Her first knock was so weak no one could
have heard it. She steeled herself to knock again, rather than turn
tail and run back down the path to her car.

She knocked so hard the second time she
recoiled at the harsh sound of it.

D
on’t let him answer the door,
she prayed—at the same time hoping he would.

But it was red-haired Lindy-Bear who
answered Joe’s door. Jealousy seared through her. Why was Lindy so
at home at Joe’s house? Joe had said they were just friends.

Lindy looked surprised to see her. “Hi,” she
said. She opened the door wider. “Come in.”

Allison had to force herself not to peer
over the younger woman’s shoulder to see if Joe was there. She
started to speak but had to cough to clear her throat. “I won’t,
thank you.”

“Joe’s not here,” said Lindy.

Allison’s head automatically turned to where
the polished black metal and chrome of the Harley glinted in the
sunlight.

Lindy
followed her gaze. “He’s gone off in the truck with Greg—you know
Greg-Bear—to sort out some band business.”

Allison felt
as though her whole body sagged visibly with the weight of her
disappointment. “I wasn’t expecting him to be here. I came to give
something back.”

She burrowed
in the tote bag that contained Joe’s leather jacket. But she was so
flustered a flurry of papers, tissues and chocolate-bar wrappers
flew out and drifted to the ground.

S
he sank to her knees to retrieve
them. What was wrong with her? All she could think about was Joe
and Lindy. Joe and Lindy together. Please don’t let her cry in
front of this girl.

S
he pushed the stuff into the bag
and got up. “Joe left this at my house.”

She handed
the jacket to Lindy who accepted it without really looking at it.
Allison was stunned at the warm understanding in her
eyes.

“You don’t want to wait for Joe? He
shouldn’t be long.”

“No,” Allison blurted out. “He doesn’t want
to see me.”

“
Are you
sure about that?”

Allison
nodded
. Tears smarted her eyes and she
blinked down hard to suppress them.

“I think you’d better come in, have a
drink.”

Allison
wavered on the threshold.

Lindy
smiled. “It’s not what you think. Joe and I are buddies. We’ve been
friends since we were kids. I’ve landed on him here while I look
for a new apartment.”

Relief so
intense washed over Allison her knees threatened to buckle. “I...I
would like a drink, thanks. Just water would be fine.”

“
Hot tea, I
think,” Lindy said. “Come on.”

Allison
followed her into Joe’s house. It was old and a little shabby but
as she walked into the living room she gasped at the view of the
sea.

“
This is
amazing.”

“
Isn’t it?
Come onto the veranda. The view’s even better there.” The veranda
was supported by high poles. Below, the garden stretched to trees,
then the beach and a wider view of the ocean.

Allison
nearly tripped over the large black labrador who lay on the veranda
just outside the sliding glass doors.

“Just step over him,” said Lindy. “This is
Wilbur, Joe’s dog. Lazy old thing.” At her affectionate tone,
Wilbur thumped his tail on the wooden floor.

Allison
ducked down and held out her hand for Wilbur to sniff. He licked it
in friendly greeting and thumped his tail again. She petted him.
Joe’s dog. He’d told her about him when she’d asked about the doggy
smell in the car. She loved dogs. Wanted Mitchell to grow up with
one.

Tears of
bitter regret stung her. If only things had worked out differently.
She sniffed back the tears.

“
I’ll
ge
t the tea,” said Lindy.

Allison sat
on one of the wooden chairs pulled up to a wooden outdoor table.
Curious about Joe’s house, she ached to go inside and look around.
She’d love to see his bedroom, his bed…

Lindy
brought the tea back to the veranda. Allison sipped it gratefully,
welcoming its soothing warmth. She’d gotten into a tea-drinking
habit since living in Australia.

“
So what
happened with you guys?” Lindy asked. “Joe’s been hell to live
with.”

“
We
broke up.”

“So? Why don’t you get back together again?
You look as miserable as he does.”

“
He
said not…not to crawl back to him.”

“
That’s
typical of him. He’s as stubborn as hell. Has been since he was in
kindergarten.”

“
So...
you don’t think there’s a
chance of him unbending?”

Lindy shrugged. “He doesn’t give second
chances, never has. But you can try. Why not? I’ve never seen him
as keen on a woman as he was on you.”

“Really?” Allison’s heart flipped over.

Lindy
nodded. “Really. And I’ve seen some girlfriends come and go, I can
tell you.”

“
You...
you and he...you
never...?”

Lindy
laughed. “I was in love with him when we were six years old—all the
girls were—but he was never interested in me as anything but a
friend.” Her face softened. “He’s a really great guy. Such a big
heart. Has he told you about his school?”

“No.”

“
He wants to
set up a school to teach kids with special needs through music.
It’s been a dream of his for years.” She laughed again. “Once we’ve
had as much fun, and made as much money as we can from the band, of
course!”

Allison bit
down so hard on her lower lip she feared it would bleed. She wanted
to be discussing Joe’s hopes and dreams with Joe, not his friend
Lindy, nice as she was. But Joe was no longer part of her life.
Being in his house, with his dog and his possessions around her,
only pointed out to her that she didn’t have any right to be
here.

A
pair of Joe’s boots sat by the door; they were
molded to the shape of his feet, and the way they were placed
echoed the way he stood. A book lay face down on the table in the
living room. Had he put it down when someone interrupted
him?

Joe had a
life quite apart from her, and there was no room for her and
Mitchell in it. It was too painful to for her to sit here, knowing
she’d blown any chance of sharing his life.

Despite what Lindy had said, Allison wasn’t
going to hang around hoping for a chance to throw herself at him.
She had more pride than that.

She had to get out of here, as quickly as
she politely could. Forcing a smile, she thanked Lindy for the tea
and left Joe’s house without looking back.

The tears
started as she pulled away from his driveway—painful, burning
tears. She had to pull over just up the road and, her head resting
in despair on the steering wheel, let her sobs subside. Never had
she felt such an agony of loss.

She scarcely
knew where she was driving, but when she got home she knew she
couldn’t face the empty house. Mitchell was out with Katie until
after lunch.

She drove down to the park at the end of
Blues Point Road. She sat on the same bench where Joe had sat
reading a book the day she’d virtually accused him of letting
Mitchell get kidnapped. She imagined she could still feel the
warmth of his body on the wooden seat.

She stared unseeing at the magnificent view
of Sydney harbor, dominated by the arch of the bridge and the
graceful white sails of the Opera House. The view became hazy
through a mist of tears.

Joe.
Her heart felt as if it were
bleeding it hurt so much. How could she wake, morning after
morning, to the agonizing realization that he wasn’t there? Would
never be there. Could her body, awakened so gloriously by Joe, ever
be satisfied by anyone else?

Allison took
a deep, steadying breath and tried to think positively. Work, at
least, was going well. She’d decided to accept the offer from one
of the visiting bankers, who had been so impressed by her work on
her big deal he had poached her. He wanted her to take a big role
in his bank’s new operation in Sydney. He’d been prepared to
negotiate flexible, child-friendly hours. Bill and Nancy had said
they would help her settle Peter’s gambling debts, removing much of
that pressure from her. Things were looking good, she should be
happy. But how could she be without Joe?

Seagulls wheeled and squawked around her,
their harsh cries as mournful as her mood. She stared ahead,
steeped in misery, lost to time and place, the sea breeze whipping
her hair into a salty tangle.

She didn’t
know how long she’d been sitting there, when she felt someone sit
down on the bench beside her. Automatically, she shuffled away from
them. She should go. Must go.

She felt the
person next to her moving closer. Panic cut through her trance and
she turned, ready to flee.

To see Joe next to her.

His face
looked as weary as hers. Shadows darkened his eyes, and it seemed
that lines of pain were etched deep into his face. His hair was
wild and unkempt and his jaw shadowed.

He gazed at
her
, as if he’d been starved of the sight
of her. He looked deep into her eyes.

“
Allison,”
he said, in that familiar husky voice that sent her heart singing,
“won’t you give me a second chance?”

J
oe held his breath a painfully
long time for Allison’s answer. But she didn’t say anything. She
reached out and tentatively touched his face, as if to assure
herself he was real.

Then it was
as if a light was illuminating her from within. Her eyes shone and
danced with a joyous emotion that made his heart leap and
twist.

Then she
whispered his name as she moved into his arms.

He pulled
her to him and held her as closely as he could. He could feel her
breath on his face and her heart beating against his chest. He
breathed in the perfume of her hair and rejoiced in her warmth and
softness of her. And the overwhelming relief of her
return.

He pushed
her hair away from her face. Then he kissed her, fiercely,
hungrily, caressing her trembling lips with his mouth, to urge her
to understand how much he wanted and needed her. He rejoiced in her
passionate response; in her joyous murmur that set his heart
beating in exultation.

How could he ever have risked losing
her?

He kissed
her for a time, measured only by the beating of their hearts, until
they pulled away and searched each other’s faces.

Joe
swallowed hard.
Say it. Come
on. Say it.
Why was it so hard to force a
few little words from a suddenly constricted throat?

Then she
smiled, and the magic of it made everything seem so
easy.

He reached
out and traced the delicate outline of her mouth with one
finger.

“I love you, Ally,” he said.

“I love you, too,” she replied
unhesitatingly, her eyes dancing.

He found he
was grinning and he couldn’t stop. “I love you, I love you, I love
you!” He wanted to climb to the top of the Sydney Harbour Bridge
and shout it to the world.

But he kissed her again.

She gave a
little sigh of joy as her lips parted under his, and he thought the
simple sound was surely the most wonderful he’d ever
heard.

She wound
her arms around his neck and her fingers through his hair. Desire
coursed through him as she pressed her curves to him, and he felt
her nipples harden through the filmy fabric of her
dress.