Married By The Sea

‘He likes to eat early these days, so I’ll be leaving here at six.’

With a nod, he was gone.

Ben stood in the dark garden, adrift between Meg’s house and Elsie’s.

He’d wandered over to Meg’s tonight because he couldn’t have stood another ten minutes in Elsie’s company, but…

He scratched a hand back through his hair. He hadn’t expected to be confronted with his own inadequacies. With his selfishness.

He threw his head back to glare at the stars. He dragged cleansing breaths into his lungs. No wonder Meg didn’t believe he’d see this fatherhood gig through.

He rested his hands against his knees and swore. He had to start pulling his weight. Meg was pregnant. She should be focussing on things like getting ready for the baby. Resting.

While he’d been off seeing the world Meg had been taking care of everyone. He straightened. Well, her days of being a drudge were over. He’d see to that.

He glanced at his grandmother’s house. Shoving his shoulders back, he set off towards it.

He found Elsie at the kitchen table, playing Solitaire—just as she’d been doing when he’d left. The radio crooned songs from the 1950s.

‘Drink?’ he offered, going to the fridge.

‘No, thank you.’

She didn’t so much as glance at him. He grabbed a beer…

stopped…set it back down again and seized a can of soda instead. The silence pressed down like a blanket of cold snow. He shot a glance towards the living room and the promised distraction of the television.

You turn back into a sullen ten-year-old.

He pulled out a chair and sat at the table with Elsie—something he hadn’t done since he’d returned home—and watched as she finished her game. She glanced at him and then in the wink of an eye, almost as if she were afraid he’d change his mind, she dealt them both out seven cards each.

‘Can you play rummy?’

‘Sure I can.’

‘Laurie taught me.’

His skin tightened. He rolled his shoulders. So far this was the longest conversation they’d had all week. ‘I…uh…when he was recuperating and you visited?’

‘That’s right.’

He wanted to get up from the table and flee. It all felt so wrong. But he remembered Meg’s crack about him reverting to a sullen ten-year-old and swallowed. ‘When I was in Alaska

I played a form of rummy with the guys off the fishing trawlers. Those guys were ruthless.’

But Elsie, it seemed, had clammed up again, and Ben wondered if it was something he’d said.

They played cards for a bit. Finally he broke the silence. ‘Meg’s looking great. Pregnancy obviously agrees with her.’

Nothing.

‘She’s crocheting this thing—a baby shawl, I think she said. Looks hard, and progress is looking slow.’ He picked up the three of spades Elsie had discarded. She still didn’t say anything. He ground back a sigh. ‘Can you crochet?’

‘Yep.’

She could? He stared at her for a moment, trying not to rock back on his chair. ‘You should ask her to bring this shawl over to show you. In fact, you should make something for the baby too.’

She didn’t look up from her cards. ‘Me?’

He frowned. ‘And so should I.’

‘You?’ A snort accompanied the single syllable.

He cracked his knuckles. ‘I might not be able to knit or sew, but travelling in the remote parts of the world forces a guy to become pretty handy.’

Handy? Ha! He could fashion a makeshift compass, build a temporary shelter and sterilise water, but what on earth could he make for the baby that would be useful? And beautiful. Because he’d want it to be beautiful too. An heirloom.

‘A crib.’ As the idea occurred to him he said it out loud. He knew a bit about carpentry. ‘I’ll build a crib for the baby.’ He laid out his trio of threes, a trio of jacks and placed his final card on Elsie’s sevens. ‘Gin.’

Elsie threw her cards down with a sniff.

‘Best of three,’ Ben announced. ‘You’re rusty. You need the practice. Though it’s got to be said those Alaskan fisherman took no prisoners.’

Elsie picked up her second hand without a word. Ben mentally rolled his eyes. Meg was right. This was hard work. But he found a certain grim enjoyment in needling Elsie too.

As they played he found himself taking note of Elsie’s movements. Her hands were steady and she held herself stiffly erect. No signs of a debilitating disease there as far as he could see. When she won the game in three moves he had to conclude that, while she didn’t say much, her mind was razor-sharp.

‘Gin!’ There was no mistaking her triumph, but she still didn’t crack a smile.

He snorted. ‘I went easy on you.’

Her chin came up a notch. Her eyes narrowed.

‘Oh, and by the way, we’re having dinner with Meg and her father tomorrow evening at the club. I said we’d be ready at six.’

‘Right.’

They played in silence for several moments, and then all in a rush it suddenly occurred to Ben that he might be cramping the older couple’s style. He cleared his throat. It wasn’t easy imagining Elsie and Mr Parrish wanting—needing—privacy. But that didn’t change the fact that they were engaged.

‘Do you mind me staying here while I’m in town?’

‘No.’

‘Look, if it’s not convenient I can arrange alternative accommodation. I might be staying a bit longer than usual.’

‘How long?’

‘I’m not sure yet.’

Oh, he was sure, all right. He was staying for good. Meg should be the first to know that, though. ‘I’d certainly understand it if you’d like me to find somewhere else to stay.’

‘No.’

He stared at her. She didn’t say any more. ‘Did my mother really never contact you, not even once, after she left me here?’

The question shocked him as much as it probably shocked Elsie. He hadn’t known it had been hovering on his lips, waiting to pounce. He hadn’t known he still even cared what the answer to the damn question might be.

Elsie folded her cards up as tight as her face and dropped them to the table. ‘No.’

Without another word she rose and left the room.

‘Goodnight, Ben,’ he muttered under his breath. ‘Goodnight, Elsie,’ he forced himself to call out. ‘Thanks for the card game.’

Ben and Elsie strolled across to Meg’s the next evening at six on the dot. At least Ben strolled. Elsie never did anything quite so relaxed as stroll. Her gait was midway between a trudge and a march.

They waited while Meg reversed her car—a perky blue station wagon—out of the garage, and then Ben leant forward and opened the front passenger door for Elsie.

‘I insist,’ he said with a sweep of his arm when she started to back away. He blocked her path. Her choices were to plough through him or to subside into the front seat. She chose the latter.

‘Hey, Meg.’ He settled into the back seat.

‘Hey, Ben.’ She glanced at Elsie. ‘Hello, Elsie.’

‘Hello.’

He didn’t need to see Elsie to know the precise way she’d just folded her hands in her lap.

‘How was work?’ he asked Meg as she turned the car in the direction of Nelson Bay. He was determined to hold up his end of the conversation this evening.

‘Hectic…Fun.’ she told them a silly story about one of the children there and then flicked a glance at Elsie. ‘How was your day?’

‘Fine.’

‘What did you get up to?’

‘Nothing new.’

In the rear vision mirror she caught Ben’s glance and rolled her eyes.

‘Though I did come across a recipe that I thought I might try. It’s Indian. I’ve not tried Indian before.’

Silence—a stunned and at a loss silence—filled the car. Meg cleared her throat. ‘Sounds…uh…great.’ She glanced in the mirror again and Ben could almost see her mental shrug. She swallowed. ‘What did you do today, Ben?’

‘I bought some wood.’

She blinked as she stared at the road in front of her. ‘Wood?’

‘That’s right. But don’t ask me what it’s for. It’s a surprise.’

She glanced at Elsie. ‘What’s he up to? Is he building you a veggie patch?’

‘Unlikely. But if he does it’ll be his veggie patch.’

In the mirror Meg raised an eyebrow at him and he could read her mind. They were having a conversation like normal people—him, her and Elsie. He couldn’t blame her for wondering if the sky was falling in.

‘I’ll tell you something that’s surprised the pants off of me,’ he said, as smoothly as he could.

In the mirror he watched her swallow. ‘Don’t keep me in suspense.’

‘Elsie plays a mean hand of rummy.’

Meg glanced at her. ‘You play rummy?’

‘Yes, your father taught me.’

Just for a moment Meg’s shoulders tightened, but then she rolled them and shrugged. ‘Rummy is fun, but I prefer poker. Dad plays a mean hand of poker too.’

Did he? Ben wondered if he’d ever played a hand or two with his daughter.

‘So Elsie kicked your butt, huh?’

‘We’re a game apiece. The tie-break’s tonight.’

‘Well, now.’ Meg pulled the car to a halt in the RSL Club’s parking lot. ‘I expect to hear all about it tomorrow.’

‘If she beats me, I’m making it the best of five.’

Elsie snorted. ‘If you come to dinner next Wednesday, Meg, you can join in the fun.’

He wasn’t sure who was more stunned by that offer—him, Meg or Elsie.

‘Uh, right,’ Meg managed. ‘I’ll look forward to it.’

Elsie’s efforts at hospitality and conversation had thrown him as much as they’d obviously thrown Meg, but as Ben climbed out of the car he couldn’t help wondering when he’d fallen into being so monosyllabic around his grandmother. Especially as he prided himself on being good company everywhere else.

He frowned and shook his head. He’d never been anything but monosyllabic around Elsie. It was a habit. One he hadn’t even considered breaking until Meg had sent out the challenge.

He glanced at the older woman. When had she got into the habit? Maybe nobody had ever challenged her, and—

Holy crap!

Ben’s jaw dropped and his skin tightened when Meg rounded the car to join them. His chest expanded. It was as if he didn’t fit his body properly any more.

Holy mackerel!

She wore a short blue skirt that stopped a good three inches above her knees and swished and danced about flirty thighs.

Man, Meg had great legs!

He managed to lift a hand to swipe it across his chin. No drool. He didn’t do drool. Though, that said, until this week he’d have said he didn’t do ogling Meg either.

Now it seemed he couldn’t do anything else.

She had legs that went on for ever. The illusion was aided and abetted by the four-inch wedge heels she wore, the same caramel colour as her blouse. He toenails were painted a sparkly dark brown.

She nudged him in the ribs. ‘What’s with you?’

‘I…um…’ He coughed. Elsie raised an eyebrow and for the first time in his life he saw her actually smile. Oh, brilliant! She’d seen the lot and knew the effect Meg was having on him.

‘I…um…’ He cleared his throat and pointed to Meg’s feet. ‘Those shoes should come with a warning sign. Are you sure pregnant women are allowed to wear those things?’

She snorted. ‘Just watch me, buster.’

He didn’t have any other choice.

‘I’ve given up caffeine, alcohol, salami and Camembert, but I’m not giving up my sexy sandals.’

She and Elsie set off for the club’s entrance. He trailed after, mesmerised by the way Meg’s hips swayed with hypnotic temptation.

How had he never noticed that before?

He swallowed. He had a feeling he was in for a long night.

CHAPTER SEVEN

MEG GLANCED AT Ben sitting at the table next to her in the club, and then away again before anyone could accuse her of having an unhealthy fixation with her best friend.

But tonight he’d amazed her. He not only made an effort to take part in the conversation, he actively promoted it. He quizzed her father on the key differences between five-card draw poker, stud poker and Texas hold ’em. She hadn’t seen her father so animated in a long time. And Elsie listened in with a greedy avidity that made Meg blink.

The more she watched, the more she realised how good the older couple were for each other.

She bit her lip and glanced around the crowded dining room. She wanted to be happy for her father and Elsie. She gritted her teeth. She was happy for them. But their newfound vim made her chafe and burn. It made her hands clench.

Ben trailed a finger across one of her fists, leaving a burning path of awareness in his wake. She promptly unclenched it. He sent her a smile filled with so much understanding she wanted to lay her head on his shoulder and bawl her eyes out.

Pregnancy hormones.

Do you mean to use that as an excuse for every uncomfortable emotion that pummels you at the moment?

It might not explain her unexpected resentment towards the older couple, but it was absolutely positively the reason her pulse quickened and her skin prickled at the mere sight of Ben. It had to be. and it was absolutely positively the reason her stomach clenched when his scent slugged into her—that peculiar but evocative mixture of leather and Scotch whisky.

For pity’s sake, he wasn’t even wearing leather or drinking whisky.

Her lips twisted. He couldn’t help it. He smelled like a bad boy—all illicit temptation and promises he wouldn’t keep. That grin and his free and easy swagger promised heaven. For one night. She didn’t doubt for a moment that he’d deliver on that particular promise either.

And darn it all if she didn’t want a piece of that!

She swallowed. She didn’t just want it. She craved it. Her skin, her lungs, even her fingers ached with it.

Pregnancy hormones. It had to be.

Just her luck. Why couldn’t she be like other women who became nauseous at the smell of frying bacon? That would be far preferable to feeling like this when Ben’s scent hit her.

Her fingers curled into her palms. She had to find a way to resist all that seductive bad-boyness. For the sake of their friendship. And for the sake of her baby.

She dragged in a breath. She’d seen smart, sensible women make absolute fools of themselves over Ben and she had no intention of joining their ranks. She could not let lust deflect her from the important issue—ensuring her baby had the best possible life that she could give it. She could do that and save her friendship with Ben.

But not if she slept with him.

She ground her teeth together. Why had nobody warned her that being pregnant would make her…horny?

She shifted on her chair. Horny was the perfect description. There was nothing dignified and elegant or slow and easy in what she felt for Ben.

She risked a glance at him. Her blood Mexican-waved in her veins. Heat pounded through her and she squeezed her thighs tightly together. What she felt for Ben—her best friend—was hot and carnal, primal and urgent.

And it had to be denied.

she dragged her gaze away and fiddled with her cutlery.

Ben nudged her and she could have groaned out loud as a fresh wave of leather and whisky slammed into her. But it occurred to her then that she’d left the entire running of the conversation up to him so far. He probably thought she was doing it to punish him, or to prove some stupid point, when the real reason was she simply couldn’t string two thoughts let alone two sentences together in a coherent fashion.

‘Sorry, I was a million miles away.’ She made herself smile around the table. ‘My girlfriends have warned me about baby brain.’

Ben cocked an eyebrow. He grinned that slow and easy grin that could reduce a woman to the consistency of warm honey, inch by delicious inch.

She swallowed and forced her spine to straighten. ‘Basically it means my brain will turn to mush and I won’t be able to verbalise anything but nonsense for days at a time.’

She glanced at Elsie. ‘Do you remember that when you were pregnant?’

Elsie drew back, paled, and Meg tried not to wince. She’d never asked Elsie about pregnancy or motherhood before and it was obviously a touchy subject. She hadn’t meant to be insensitive.

In an effort to remove attention from Elsie, she swung to her father. ‘Or can you remember Mum having baby brain when she was pregnant with me?’

An ugly red flushed his cheeks. As if she’d reached across and slapped him across the face. Twice.

Oh, great. Another no-go zone, huh?

She wanted nothing more than to lay her head on the table, close her eyes and rest for a while.

‘And what a sterling example of baby brain in action,’ Ben murmured in her ear, and she found herself coughing back a laugh instead.

‘I guess that’s a no on both counts,’ she managed, deciding to brazen it out, hoping it would make it less awkward all round. She glanced around the crowded dining room. ‘There’s a good crowd in but, man, I’m hungry. I wonder when our food will be ready?’

On cue, their table buzzer rang. Ben and her father shot to their feet. ‘I’ll get yours,’ Ben told her, placing a hand on her shoulder to keep her in her seat.

Elsie watched as the two men walked towards the bistro counter where their plates waited. Meg made herself smile. ‘Well, this is nice, isn’t it?’

‘You shouldn’t have mentioned your mother.’

Meg blinked. ‘Why ever not?’

Elsie pressed her lips primly together. ‘He doesn’t like to talk about her.’

Wasn’t that the truth? ‘And yet she was my mother and I do. Why should my needs be subordinate to his?’

‘That’s a selfish way to look at it.’

Interesting…Elsie was prepared to go into battle for her father. Something in Meg’s heart lifted.

But something else didn’t. ‘Maybe I’m tired of stepping on eggshells and being self-sacrificing.’

Elsie paled. ‘Meg, I—’

The men chose that moment to return with the food and Elsie broke off. Meg couldn’t help but be relieved.

Ben glanced at Elsie and then whispered to Meg, ‘More baby brain?’

‘“Curiouser and curiouser,” said Alice,’ she returned.

He grinned. She grinned back. And for a moment everything was right again—she and Ben against the world…or at least against Elsie and Laurie, who’d been the world when she and Ben had been ten-year-olds.

They ate, and her father and Elsie reverted to their customary silence. Between them Meg and Ben managed to keep up a steady flow of chatter, but Meg couldn’t help wondering if the older couple heard a word they said.

When they were finished, their plates removed and drinks replenished, Meg clapped her hands. ‘Okay, I want to talk about the wedding for a moment.’

Her father scowled. ‘I don’t want a damn circus, Megan.’

‘It’s not going to be a circus. It’s going to be a simple celebration. A celebration of the love you and Elsie share.’ She folded her arms. ‘And if you can’t muster the courtesy to give each other that much respect then you shouldn’t be getting married in the first place.’

Elsie and Laurie stared at her in shock. Ben let forth with a low whistle.

‘Elsie—not this Saturday but the one after you and I are going shopping for your outfit.’

‘Oh, but I don’t need anything new.’

‘Yes, you do. And so do I.’ Her father had multiple suits, but… She turned to Ben. ‘You’ll need a suit.’

He saluted. ‘I’m onto it.’

She turned back to the older couple. ‘And you will both need an attendant. Who would you like as your bridesmaid and best man?’

Nobody said anything for a moment. She heaved back a sigh. ‘Who were you going to have as your witnesses?’

‘You and Ben,’ her father muttered.

‘Fine. I’ll be your best man, but I’ll be wearing a dress.’

‘And I’ll be bridesmaid in a suit,’ Ben said to Elsie.

He said it without rancour and without wincing. He even said it with a grin on his face. Meg could have hugged him.

‘Now, Elsie, do you want someone to give you away?’

‘Of course not! Who on earth would I ask to do that?’

Meg leant back. She stared at the ceiling and counted to three. ‘I’d have thought Ben would be the logical choice.’

The other woman’s chin shot up. ‘Ben? Do you really expect him to still be here in six weeks’ time?’

‘If he says he will, then, yes.’

‘Give me away?’ Her face darkened as she glared at Ben. ‘Oh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you? You’d love to give me away and be done with me for ever.’

Meg took one look at her best friend’s ashen face and a scorching red-hot savagery shook through her. She leant forward, acid burning her throat and a rank taste filling her mouth. ‘And who could blame him? I don’t know why he even bothers with you at all. What the hell have you ever given him that he couldn’t have got from strangers? You never show the slightest interest in his life, never show him the slightest affection—not even a tiny bit of warmth. you have no right to criticise him. None!’

‘Meg.’

Ben’s voice burned low but she couldn’t stop. Even if she’d wanted to, she couldn’t have. And she didn’t want to. ‘It was your job to show him love and security when he was just a little boy, but did you ever once hug him or tell him you were glad he’d come to stay with you? No, not once. Why not? He was a great kid and you…you’re nothing but a—’

‘Megan, that’s enough! You will not speak to my intended like that.’

‘Or what?’ she shot straight back at her father. ‘You’ll never speak to me again? Well, seeing as you barely speak to me now, I can hardly see that’d be any great loss.’

Even as the words ripped out of her she couldn’t believe she was uttering them. But she meant them. Every single one of them. And the red mist held her too much in its sway for her to regret them.

She might never regret them, but if she remained here she would say things she would regret—mean, bitter things just for the sake of it. She pushed out of her seat and walked away, walked right out of the club. She tramped the two blocks down to the water’s edge to sit on a bench overlooking the bay as the sun sank in the west.

The walking had helped work off some of her anger. The warm air caressed the bare skin of her neck and legs, and the late evening light was as soothing as the ebb and flow of the water.

‘Are you okay?’

Ben. And his voice was as soothing as the water too. But it made her eyes prickle and sting. She nodded.

‘Do you mind if I join you?’

She shook her head and gestured for him to take the seat beside her.

‘What happened back there?’ he finally asked. ‘Baby brain?’

She didn’t know if he was trying to make her laugh or if he was as honest-to-God puzzled as he sounded. She dragged in a breath that made her whole body shudder. ‘That was honest, true-blue emotion, not baby brain. I’ve never told either one of them how I feel about our childhoods.’

‘Well, you left them in no doubt about your feelings on the subject tonight.’

She glanced at him. ‘I don’t particularly feel bad about it.’ Did that make her an awful person? ‘I don’t want revenge, and I don’t want to ruin their happiness, but neither one of them has the right to criticise you or me for being unsupportive. Especially when we’re bending over backwards for them.’

He rested his elbows on his knees and then glanced up at her. ‘You’ve bottled that up for a long time. Why spill it now?’

She stared out at the water. The sky was quickly darkening now that the sun had gone down. The burning started behind her eyes again. ‘Now that I’m pregnant and expecting a child of my own, their emotional abandonment of us seems so much more unforgivable to me.’

He straightened and she turned to him.

‘Ben, I can’t imagine not making every effort for my child, regardless of what else is happening in my life. I love it so much already and it makes me see…’