“Have you—” Skylar began, then stopped. “I’m sorry. That’s inappropriate.”
“No,” Zora said, “it’s why I came. So you could talk a bit. When I heard you were alone with the kids, I thought you might need somebody. Somebody who’d understand, but somebody you wouldn’t worry by talking about it. And, no, I haven’t lost a pregnancy. I lost my husband, though, and Rhys and I had some struggles before we had our daughter. She’s two now, and she’s wonderful, but it took almost a year for me to get pregnant. It was such a sadness every month, and it wasn’t even a loss.”
“It was a loss of your dream, though,” Skylar said.
“Yes. Exactly. And that kind of loss hurts.”
“I’m a widow myself,” Skylar said. “It’s a … a thicket of complication, isn’t it? Blending families, too, if you did that.”
“Yes,” Zora said. “‘Complication’ is the right word there. The hardest thing wasn’t the kids, though. It was trusting in love again. Trusting my judgment. Of course, that’s a bit more complicated when the new man is your brother-in-law and everyone knows it. But it was Rhys, so …” She smiled. “He’s a pretty convincing fella. And a brilliant dad. Worth the risk, eh.”
“What made you decide?” Skylar asked. “If you don’t mind my asking? This has been … it’s gone sofast.Not really, you could think, because we started in April, but he’s been gone so much, so I keep wondering, when he’s only home sometimes, is that just a honeymoon period? Would he be driving me mad if he were around every day?”
“Well,” Zora said, “you could probably solve that one by actually having him around every day and seeing how you go. Offseason begins in December. And to answer your question … That I couldn’t live without him, I guess, and he couldn’t live without me. That’s what it came down to. He was exciting—so exciting—but he was safe, too. My heart felt safe with him. Partly because he wanted me, I meanreallywanted me. And I finally started to believe in that.”
“Scary, maybe,” Skylar said. “Sorting all that out.”
“Always,” Zora said. “But every time I tried to hold back—well, there he was, being Rhys. Being honest. Being dependable. And so bloodymanly.”She smiled, and Skylar smiled back, because how could you not?
Skylar said, “Yes, but is some of that just … well, lust? I mean, the rugby and all? And how they look? Like a … a crush?”
“My first husband, Rhys’s brother, was a rugby player too,” Zora said. “And exciting. More exciting than Rhys, I probably thought then. Dylan was … mercurial is probably the word. Fun. The life of every party. And Rhys is a serious man. Exciting, but in a completely different way. A grown-man way, but I’m sure some women would think he was dull. Disciplined. Responsible. Tough.”
“That’s it,” Skylar said. “Exactly. In the earthquake, down in Wellington, all I wanted was for Zane to come, and I knew hewouldcome. I knew he’d move heaven and earth to get to us. My first husband wasn’t that man at all, though I shouldn’t say it, as he’s dead.”
“Well, considering that I just told you the same thing,” Zora said, “I’d say that your secret is safe with me.” She stood up. “And I’d better get back. But, Skylar?”
“Yes?” Skylar asked, standing herself.
“Give it time,” Zora said. “On both things. And see.”
53
THE GOLDEN RETRIEVER DROPS THE BALL
It was so much better to go back to work.
Was she still a little under the weather, physically and emotionally? Yes, she was. Did she feel too busy almost every day? Definitely. But did she enjoy her snatched moments of leisure, like those twenty minutes of reading in bed before your eyes drifted shut of their own accord? Oh, how much more than she’d enjoyed the endless days of recovery. Sitting around and mentally spinning your wheels had to be about the most depressing activity in the world.
Being tired after work, though, and coming home to a house where six children continued—more or less—to do their chores, so you weren’t on that treadmill for hours every day? That was pretty bloody nice. So nice, in fact, that she told Maureen, at the end of Week One of the new term, “I can do the dinners this next week, if you and Granddad would like a wee holiday. Well, a partial holiday, as you’ll still be walking the kids to and from school.”
Maureen looked at her measuringly, then said, “If you’d rather.” Which forced Skylar to ask herself whether she thought sheshouldmake those dinners, or whether sheactually wantedto make them. A question she hadn’t often contemplated, because normally, she just did what she had to do.
“You know,” she said, “I believe Iwouldrather. The kids and I enjoyed Cooking School, and Scarlett and Finlay have mentioned taking turns being my sous chef. Seems I can’t get enough of teaching, eh.” There you were. Lightening it up. Easy-breezy. Face it, Maureen made her nervous.
“Ah,” Maureen said. “So this would be for next week, then, while Zane’s busy with the Bledisloe Cup. And when he has that week off after he comes home.”
“Yes,” Skylar said. “That’s what he and I discussed. After that, the kids and I will move back home, but I’ll do the weekends again while he’s off to Europe for the Nations Championship. That’s what we talked about, anyway. If that sounds good to you, of course.” She’d never been able to tell how Maureen felt about her. The woman wore her dignity like a feather cloak. It was impressive. It was also intimidating.
“Why wouldn’t that sound good to me?” Maureen asked.
“Oh. I suppose—if you wanted the time with your whanau. With your mokopuna. If you wanted dominion over your kitchen. That last one was a joke,” she hurried to add.
“I have my own kitchen,” Maureen said. “Or Geoffrey and I do. As long as I can cook here for all of them when the chance presents, I’m happy enough to leave it to you.”
“And you’d no doubt rather the kids and I not be here at those times,” Skylar said. Yes, it was daring, but didn’t she need to say it? “In December, for example, when the rugby’s done.”
“Cup of tea, I think,” Maureen said, and went to make it. “Let’s sit a minute.”
