Chapter 29Janie

Chapter 29 Janie

He looked so tall and broad-shouldered, yet small. Stooped. My lovely 13-year-old baby boy stood under the pale security light, a big bag at his feet, eyes on his phone.

I didn’t bother driving to the parking bay. I simply stopped in front of the door, startling him. Casting a quick look at Emir, I scrambled out of the car. He understood, hanging back as I rushed to my boy and hugged him.

Hug first, questions later. That’d been my philosophy all these years, and Josh knew it. I hit my forehead on his sharp collarbone, but I didn’t care.

He sniffed. “Mom. I tried to call you. You weren’t home and I… panicked.”

“Oh, my God! My phone must be still silent. We were filming earlier, and…”

My phone was mostly silent. I hated its sound. I hadn’t checked it for hours, too preoccupied with my dinner with Emir. “How did you get here? Is it just you?”

“I took the bus, then Uber.”

“It’s not school holidays yet.” I drew back to study his drawn face. “What happened?”

His chin jutted forward, green eyes almost black in the low light, voice wavering. “Can I live here?”

I felt air leaving my lungs, deflating like a punctured tire.

“Yes, of course. But why? Do you not like the school? Are you having problems?”

“No. I just don’t want to live there anymore.”

“With Dad?”

“With Dad and Kelly. ” He bit out the name like it tasted vile. “I don’t want to be there anymore.”

“Okay.” I unlocked the door, taking a tad longer with my brand-new key, then led him inside the house. “I’ll be right with you, and we’ll talk this through, but I have someone in the car. He’s a friend of a friend who’s been staying here, helping on the farm. You know my colleague, Aria? I’m hosting her engagement party in a few days, and this is her fiancé’s brother.” I took a breath, feeling like I was babbling.

“What? Who?” His brow wrinkled. The low lighting threw shadows under his sulking eyes, making him look simultaneously younger and older.

“His name is Emir. He’s Turkish. I like him.” I sucked in my lips, waiting for his reaction.

His lips puckered defiantly. “Don’t tell me you’re having a baby and starting a new family, too?”

“Dear Lord. No.” I patted his arm. “I’m just saying… he’s my friend, so be nice.” I tried to smile instead of wincing. There was no way to save this, probably. I could have been hosting Santa Claus and Josh would still be wary of the other guy in the house. He’d come here for his mom and didn’t want to share. “Why don’t you take your bags to your room and get settled. I’ll make us all some tea. Then Emir can go to bed, and we’ll talk.”

I looked at him until he nodded, took his bags and dragged them down the hallway. I ran back outside and found Emir leaning on the car door, browsing his phone. He looked up, worried. “What happened?”

I lifted my shoulders. “Not sure. But it sounds like he needs some Mom time.”

“Of course.”

“I told me I’d make us some tea and then have a chat with him.”

“I don’t need tea. Don’t worry about me. Go talk to him.”

He gave me a look full of compassion and something in my chest tugged, hard.

“I’m… sorry.” I turned around, but he grabbed my arm, forcing me to turn back.

“You’re not sorry. I’m not sorry. We both have lives. We both have… non-negotiable responsibilities. That’s no reason to back down. We deal with it.”

“Like adults, you mean?”

“Yeah.”

“I hate adulting.” I made a face and laughed a little. He didn’t join me but nodded in confirmation.

Giving him a grateful smile, I slipped back inside. I found Josh in his room, lying face down on his bed spread, with Gru nuzzled by his side.

“Hey, Josh.” I guided the dog on the other side and sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing his shoulder.

He turned his head enough to allow for some red-rimmed eye contact. The crescent moon shaped night light cast a glow over his face.

“Dad doesn’t see me anymore. It’s just baby this, baby that. And Kelly… she’s buying and buying these… baby things. I can’t even walk through the house anymore; I stumble over all this sh… crap.”

I nodded. “Well, she’s pregnant. It’s called nesting.”

“What, like a bird?”

“Yeah, like a bird.” I bit my lip.

“Well, if she’s a bird then she’s a big, fat, dumb… chicken.”

I had to a smile at his sulky pout. “Chickens are not that dumb. Mine are hiding the eggs so well I think I miss half of them.”

“I’ll help you find them, Mom. Just let me stay.”

I sighed. “We need to sort things out with your school. You can’t just disappear. Does your dad know where you are right now?”

“I left a note.”

I reached into the handbag still perched on my hip and plucked out my phone. Five missed calls from Josh, none from my ex-husband.

“He hasn’t called.”

“He won’t notice until it’s bedtime and he comes to check that I’m not on my screen.” Josh’s resigned voice made me shiver.

“What?”

“Yeah, he’s too busy with work and Kelly and the baby.”

“What about Alex? Does he check on him?”

“No. Alex loves that. They got him a tiny house in the backyard so he can listen to his music as loud as he wants. The neighbors called noise control once.”

Alex was eighteen and enjoying his freedom. But Josh… Josh was my baby, and my heart went out to him. Nearly five years younger, he’d always been the baby. And now, he was having a little sister or brother. I’d barely processed the news of my ex-husband’s new family. I hadn’t even thought about what it meant for my boys. The last time I’d talked to Alex and Josh, both had been playing it cool. But how much could you expect to get out of teenagers via text messaging? If I called, they always sounded distracted, probably playing a game on the laptop as they offered one-word answers to my prying questions.

As I listened to Josh’s words, I felt grateful he could confide in me, yet increasingly upset. I knew Shaun’s shiny new thing syndrome, but I’d never thought it would extend to his children. The whole thing made me sizzle with anger, yet inexplicably sad, like I’d accidentally jumped to the end of a book, skipping something important. My story with Emir was only beginning. And now, reality came crashing down, washing away the dreams, leaving only responsibilities.

“I should call him,” I said, but my fingers made no effort to dial.

I didn’t want to talk to Shaun.

“Where did you leave the note? What if they haven’t found it? They might have already called the police.”

“Well, then the police will come into my bedroom and find the giant piece of paper I left on the bed.”

“But if you didn’t make the bed, it might be obscured by the sheets—”

“Mom! I made the bed. There’s nothing but a giant note on it.”

The phone rang in my hand. Shaun. I took a deep breath. “Hi Shaun.”

“Is he there? Is Josh there?” He sounded out of breath. Irritated.

“Yes.”

“Well, send him back, will you? He’s got school tomorrow.”

“It’s late. Let’s discuss this tomorrow, okay?”

“There’s nothing to discuss. We agreed the boys go to Auckland Grammar.”

“Shaun. He’s here. He was unhappy enough to spend seven hours on a bus. Let’s discuss this tomorrow.”

“What are you trying to pull? You’re not in zone for anything out there! There’s no plan B.”

I felt like protesting, but I knew Shaun didn’t count Napier’s schools as contenders. Not when he had access to the one with the highest grade average, the one that had produced the most All Blacks in the country. Shaun considered his house in the Grammar zone as one of his best assets. Kelly probably agreed and had gotten pregnant just to access that damn school.

“I’m not trying to pull anything. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

I ended the call and turned off my phone. There.

“It’s okay. We’ll figure it out,” I told Josh.

“Dad will never let me switch schools,” he whined. “But I hate it there. Everyone’s flexing about their iPhones and gaming setups and birthday trips to California.”

“California? Dear Lord.” I shook my head.

I knew the school was elitist, but I’d chosen to focus on the opportunities and resources it offered. When would I learn to look reality in the eye? I was way too old to be this naive. Just like I was far too old to fall for a Turkish man and imagine that things would somehow magically work out.

Josh hung his head. “I can’t ask anyone over to our house because it’s full of baby stuff and dad won’t get me a new computer and we only have Netflix and none of the others like Callum and Logan have. And if I go visit them, they want to come visit and I’ll be so embarrassed. Our house is so small!”

“It’s huge,” I argued. “You have your own room.”

But I knew what he meant. When you hung out with the rich kids, the bar was so much higher. I didn’t want that for him. That constant comparison, perpetual feeling of inadequacy. It had followed me in Auckland like a bad smell. Poor Josh was only thirteen. He didn’t have the maturity to look at the big picture. At that age, your friends were your world.

“Having a bigger house or better computers won’t fix anything. You know why?”

“Why?’ He rolled his eyes.

“Because it’s a game you can’t win. Someone will always have something bigger or better. If you hang out with people who measure your worth in that way, you’re not with true friends.”

“I miss Benji. I want to go back to Napier Intermediate.”

I patted his arm and laughed. “You can’t go backwards. And I’m pretty sure Benji is in high school now too.”

His eyes lit up. “He’s at Colenso! Can I go there?”

I sighed. “I don’t know.”

Colenso was a good enough school, an easy choice that wasn’t too far. If I could somehow get Shaun onboard, maybe Josh could finish high school in Napier. Small town schooling wouldn’t open every door, but he’d still have a life ahead of him. And maybe a happier last year of his childhood.

I’d fight for it. I had to.

“Are you hungry?” I asked.

Josh nodded and followed me into the kitchen.

“What’s that?”

Josh pointed at the dining table, and I did a double take. A tray filled with nuts, dried fruit and small sandwiches sat in the middle next to a pot of steaming tea.

“Oh. Emir must have made these.”

“For you?”

“For us.”

Josh stared at me, then the table again. “Is he like a butler or something?”

I burst out laughing and somehow got tears in my eyes. “He’s just very considerate.”

“Sweet.” Josh sat down, filled a plate and tucked in.

“Should I get him? I should introduce you guys since he’s staying here. It’ll be less awkward.”

Josh shrugged, his expression non-plussed, which was teenage speak for enthusiastic agreement.

I found Emir in the guest room, sitting in the corner, reading the thriller he’d picked up the previous night.

I stood in the open doorway, waiting for him to notice me. I loved that he’d left the door open but retreated to the far corner of the room. For someone scathingly honest who never sugarcoated his words, Emir seemed to consider others in a way not many people did. It was easy to be offended by his manner and words and miss those actions. The more time spent with him, the louder they seemed. Much louder than the words.

“Janie. Are you okay? Is your son okay?” He stuck something between the pages and dropped the book on the nightstand.

“Yes. Josh is a bit upset but he’ll be fine. Thank you for the snacks you made. Have you eaten? Come join us. I’ll introduce you.”

He stood up, but hesitated. “Introduce me as…”

The question hung in the air as his eyes implored me.

“A… friend?”

He looked a little defeated but nodded. “Okay.”

As we reached the dining room, Josh looked up, eyes wide. He blinked a couple of times, mouth ajar.

I introduced them, and I urged Josh to get up and offer his hand. Emir shook it, then popped into the kitchen to fetch a teacup.

“Is he in the mafia or something?” Josh asked under his breath.

“No. He just looks like he is.” I bit back my smile, sliding into the seat next to my son. “To my knowledge, he’s not involved in anything illegal.”

Emir returned to the table and poured himself a cup of tea. He gave Josh a look, as if assessing his mood, then turned to me. “I have something to tell you, Janie. But I want you to not worry, because it’ll be alright.”

My breath seized. “What?”

“I went outside but couldn’t find Molly. I checked the stables, and walked around and called for her, but it’s so dark out there I may have missed her. We have to wait until it’s light outside.”

I opened my mouth to protest, then closed it again. It was my fault. I’d been too preoccupied to even check on my poor horse. “She usually comes back to the stables for the night, even if I let her stay out.”

Emir nodded. “And she usually comes when I whistle. Not this time.”

“Maybe she’s hiding?” I swallowed a lump of fear.

“We’ll go first thing in the morning. Josh can come with me. He’s young and fit and Molly knows him, right?”

Josh nodded. “Don’t worry, Mom. We’ll find her.”

I didn’t miss the sharp focus in his eyes. Emir had given my son a purpose.

“What time is sunrise?”

“6.25 a.m.” Emir answered, looking at his phone.

“I’ll set my alarm for 6 a.m.” Josh said, getting to his feet. “I better get some sleep.”

He followed Emir to the kitchen and stacked his plate and cup in the dishwasher. I watched in awe as he said good night and retreated to his room.

Worried that he was putting on an act for the sake of our house guest, I trailed him to his room. “Hey, Josh.” I stopped at his doorway.

“What?” He stood in the middle of his room and stared at me; eyebrows raised.

“I wanted to check you’re okay. I know it’s weird that there’s someone else here. Had I known you were coming…”

Would I have sent Emir away? I wasn’t sure of anything anymore, but the situation felt forced. I wasn’t ready to introduce Emir to anyone, yet I wanted to hold onto him. I was such a mess.

“Is he your boyfriend?”

He looked me straight in the eye and I gave the slightest of nods.

“Okay.” Josh unzipped his bag and dug through it, pulling out wrinkled T-shirts and underwear.

“Just, okay?”

“Yeah. I mean, he seems okay. If you say he’s not a mafioso, I guess I’ll have to believe you.”

“I appreciate that.” I pulled a face, watching him gather his toiletries and shuffle to the bathroom.

I left him to it and popped my head into the guest room, where I found Emir holding a toothbrush.

“Janie.” He paused, toothbrush in midair, kindness and pain in his eyes. “How is he?”

“He… he wants to live here, with me.”

“What happened?”

“I’m not sure. I think he feels neglected, with the baby coming. And the new school is a bit prestigious.”

“You mean elitist?”

I smiled. “Yeah.”

“Sounds like he needs you.”

It wasn’t a question, just a simple statement. A statement that sealed our fate. I swallowed and nodded.

“Good night. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“You okay to sleep alone in there?” He half-whispered, nodding towards the other end of the house.

I didn’t feel great about it, but I had to stop leaning on Emir. The guest room was right across the hallway from Josh’s bedroom. He may have known we were an item, but I couldn’t risk him hearing us. “I’ll be fine.”

“If you feel unsafe… if you need anything, text me.” He gestured at his phone on the nightstand.

“Thank you.”

I glanced over my shoulder. Josh was still in the bathroom. I heard the shower running and tiptoed to Emir. He opened his arms, and I snuck in. One last hug, I told myself. Those strong arms snapped around me and he kissed my forehead. “I’ll follow your lead, Janie. Whatever you need.”

A giant lump rose into my throat, and I sniffed into his shirt. “I told him we’re… together. I don’t want to hide. The little time we have left—”

“Time is a creation. We don’t have to accept it.”

“Really? How do I reject it? Because I’m sick of the minutes and hours and days marching forward.”

He stroked my hair, his warm breath landing on the top of my head. “First of all, we can agree to not measure the experience of us, together, using units of time.”

“So, we haven’t had a two-week relationship?” I said to humor him.

We had a few minutes, whether we measured them or not. Josh would step out of the shower, and I’d be forced to move away.

“No. We’ve had an intensive education on each other. A thousand moments.”

“A thousand?”

“I used to waste time. I think I lost a year at some point, just working. Like I wasn’t even there. But I’m here now, with you, and everything counts. Time isn’t linear. It stretches and contracts and bends.”

I couldn’t stop the glow that spread across my chest, like I’d been plugged in. “I’m starting to think you’ve been fooling me and you’re actually very good with words.”

“I’m honest. Sometimes, that works out.”

My eyes burst full of tears. “I want this to work out, so badly. But—”

“Let me love you… just let me, Janie. I know life is complicated. I know you’re scared. But we can figure it out. If you feel anything for me, anything at all—”

My heart leapt from my chest, and words out of my mouth. “I love you more than I know what to do with, you fucking idiot!” As my brain processed the runaway truth, I recoiled, stumbling backwards. I couldn’t take it back.

“Janie.” His eyes were the warmest I’d ever seen, voice gentle.

I heard the bathroom door. My arms flailed about, gesturing at the exit I had to take.

“It’s okay. Go.”

Clamping my mouth shut and all but swallowing both lips so that nothing else escaped, I ran off, all the way to my own bedroom. I closed the door and leaned against it, heaving deep breaths. I was developing feelings that were harder and harder to dismiss, or even contain. They were spilling over, and what was worse, they were spilling all over him. Emir. The man who didn’t do casual. The man who’d already decided to marry me, or something equally dramatic and ridiculous and impractical.

I’d only just gotten divorced, and it hadn’t even been my decision. I wasn’t ready for this. Shaun must have been planning his exit for a while, I knew that now. He’d been ready to move on and build a brand-new life the minute he returned to Auckland, while I’d been desperately clinging onto our old life. I’d sold him the dream of country living, but it had been a second-hand dream for him. Easy to let go, especially when the reality of it slapped us both in the face.

Gru jumped into my bed, burrowing under the blankets. I hugged him, grateful for his eternal clinginess.

As much as I wanted to reject the concept of time and measure our relationship in thousands of moments, I couldn’t. Timing sucked. This couldn’t be more than a fling. I had to talk to someone and clear my head. Tomorrow would be Monday—the day known for its ability to whip you with reality. But it also meant returning to the office.

I texted Aria.

Janie: Are you coming to the office tomorrow? I need to talk to you. In person.

Did it sound too ominous?

Aria: I’ll be in around 9. Coffees at the Pier?

Janie: Perfect.

I’d deal with it all tomorrow. The runaway horse, work, emails, the feelings. It was all an unholy mess, yet I felt blessed. Someone loved me. I imagined the energy of it, like radioactive waves permeating every wall between us. His attention on me, mine on him. It was beautiful, scary and intense, and I wouldn’t let anyone tell me otherwise.