26. Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Four

Lara was not having a good week. Crystal Berry had marched into her store at barely nine a.m. on Tuesday morning, shouting at her, convinced she was the reason her husband had stayed out late on Saturday night and had recently changed the passcode on his phone. Lara had made it abundantly clear that she wouldn’t touch Crystal’s egotistical, chauvinist, boring husband with a barge pole and now Crystal was mad about that too.

“You’ve always thought you were too good for everyone around here!” Crystal had thumped her hand on the shop counter.

Lara had let her eyes get as steely and hard as they ever did.

“Which one is it, Crystal? Are you mad because you think I fucked your husband or you’re mad because I never would? Make up your damn mind! ”

There’d been an accident blocking traffic coming up the hill and apparently her delivery driver had decided that made the whole trip not worth it and wouldn’t reschedule for two days, which left her completely out of fresh fruit and dairy. Meanwhile her chooks were off the lay - Lara suspected something was bothering them, either a competitive brush turkey or a lurking carpet python - so she’d had to put in an egg order as well.

Tilly had quickly moved past the cute, snuggly bonding stage of getting her period and straight into the cranky, annoyed and put out by absolutely everything about her mother stage. It was a constant pitched battle to get her to put her clothes on for school, pick up after herself, or do her homework and Lara was exhausted by it.

“Why do we have to eat this?” Tilly stared at her plate with dismay after Lara had forced herself to cook something nutritious and flavourful after a very long day. “I don’t feel like it. Can’t I just have chips?”

Can’t you just be grateful? Lara cried internally. Can’t you see how hard I work for you? How well I provide as a single parent? Do you want to know what kind of food I had to eat at your age? How desperately I longed for a mother who’d cook a lovingly prepared meal for me?

“No sweetheart,” she said instead. “This is what’s for dinner. You don’t have to love it but if you’re hungry that’s what’s on offer. ”

Surprisingly, this wasn’t the end of the argument.

She didn’t want to be the mother who used guilt to motivate her child. She didn’t want her daughter to ever have to understand that Lara was already trying to figure out how to cook at Tilly’s age, just so someone in her household would make a hot meal once in a while. It went in cycles. Sometimes her dad got off the booze, remembered he had a child and the house would be clean, the clothes laundered, the meals perfunctory but edible. And then he’d fall off the wagon.

She’d forgiven her dad a long time ago. He’d done the best he could with what he’d had, but what he’d had wasn’t much. It was hard not to forgive him when she visited him every Monday lunchtime, to see him at only sixty-seven, doddery and frail beyond his years. He had all his meals taken care of in the Silverbloom nursing home now, his brain so pickled by the years of booze that no one had ever tried to dry him out. Instead he had glasses of box wine measured out by the care staff over the day. It kept him mellow and happy enough. He always had an improbable story to tell her, about his week or about her childhood, most of which was almost certainly made up to try to cover for the fact he couldn’t remember anything much of anything at all.

The home had called her twice this week, once to tell her he’d had a fall and given himself a black eye, and once to remind her about a bill she’d forgotten to pay. That was unlike her; Lara was hyper-organised about her life admin, having learned the hard way from her husband what happened when you buried your head in the sand. Of course, she’d been more than a little distracted lately .

Which was the other thing. Was she fucking this up with Ollie? Because for crying out loud, Lara, have even a little bit of chill. First, the sex was so goddamn hot that Lara had not a single chance of hiding how absolutely swept off her feet she was, practically drowning in a puddle of orgasms every time Ollie looked at her, longing for more, drifting through her days thinking of those devastatingly beautiful fingers, Ollie’s smug mouth and burning hot gaze. It was like she just couldn’t bring herself to say no, couldn’t stop herself from inviting Ollie over, couldn’t even turn down confusing invitations like dinner with her family because she just wanted more.

Then she went a whole step further - a hundred miles further - way outside her comfort zone and found herself letting Ollie into her daughter’s life - letting her damn guard down, crying on her - and then worst of all, inviting Ollie into her bed for no gain to Ollie except to hold a clothed, raw, emotional woman all night long. What had she been thinking? Nothing, Lara had been thinking nothing , just letting herself get sideswiped by the feeling of pure safety and comfort that she gained from Ollie’s warm arms and soft voice.

It wasn’t until she’d woken up the next day in a fluster, raced her daughter off to school and came home to find Ollie still damn asleep that the vulnerability hangover had truly kicked in. She’d slipped out of her clothes and into the sheets, Ollie waking up fast when her hands discovered bare skin, Lara being thoroughly sure to more than make it up to her.

“Oh fuck, Lara- ” Ollie had been startled but adamantly not complaining when Lara went down on her a second time in short succession. Or, at least, at first she wasn’t. “Oh… god, mmmm, not that I’m complaining, but - ah! - is this, are you - oh my god - is this because we didn’t have sex last night?”

Lara ignored her; her mouth was busy after all, and oh fuck she enjoyed this, the hungry jerk of Ollie’s hips, her taste, her helpless gasp. Ollie though, had other ideas.

“ Lara, ” she pushed her head back. “Come here a second.”

“I’m extremely happy where I am.” Lara raised her eyebrows, propping her chin up on her hand. “Are you not going to let me have what I want?” She let her voice go sultry, biting her lip and Ollie groaned.

“You don’t owe me anything,” she managed, her eyes not leaving Lara’s. “There’s no making up to do here, you know that right?”

Lara huffed. It was annoying as hell how accurately Ollie kept reading her.

“Are you finished?” She licked her lip slowly. “Because I really want you on my tongue right now.”

Ollie drew in a sharp breath.

“ Come here, ” she said firmly and Lara sighed.

She moved up Ollie’s body and then frowned as Ollie pushed her up and grabbed her hips to turn her. She squeaked slightly, as Ollie tugged her thighs back until they were either side of Ollie’s head.

“Okay,” Ollie said lightly. “You can lick me now, if you want.” She tugged Lara down and set to work, giving her a whole new view of Ollie’s competitive side.

So, okay, Lara had all up recovered things pretty well from her vulnerability slip-up, but it haunted her, despite Ollie’s longing goodbye kiss at the door later that morning. Because she didn’t do this. She was self-reliant, she was an excellent mama, she handled her own damn emotions, dealt with her own fucking trauma, held herself together in her bed on a bad night. She’d had some kind of a moment - a lapse - seemingly driven mad by Ollie’s frustrating goodness. Ollie’s care, her easy competence with Tilly where Lara had fallen down, her unfazed but warm response to Lara’s tears would have been a lot for anyone to resist. Lara would adamantly not mess up like that again.

Maybe she should lay off on the Gabrielli family dinners.

They didn’t see each other all week. Lara’s life was busy - and honestly a mess this week - and Ollie had a day in Brisbane catching up with an old friend from med school, then her grandmother had a couple of alert days and she wanted to stick around home during the daylight hours .

They texted, Ollie’s messages reassuringly full of heat and hungry threats, Lara’s all denials and teasing. It felt far more comfortable all of a sudden, to revert back to Ollie in pursuit and Lara just a step out of reach.

No convenient sleepovers for Tilly this week?

Sorry. Single mothers are such a bummer to sleep with

The truth was that Sadie had offered and Lara had made herself say no. She needed a minute just to gather herself. Besides, better to be unavailable than to be… clingy. Lara winced at herself. God, how embarrassing.

That’s true. I sleep with so many of them. It’s a nightmare trying to find babysitters this week.

Hard life you lead

Lara refused to take the bait, though the thought hit her exactly how many mothers - single or not - had probably gotten weak-kneed and starry-eyed over Dr. Gabrielli swooping in competently to save their child. She thought of Ollie, sweeping her giggling daughter through Woolworths, her eyes sparkling, making everything normal and right. God help her, Lara would definitely be that single mother.

Lara. I’m pretty sure you don’t know this, but you’re fucking beautiful. If it turns out you’re not free for the next six months just text me the minute you are and I will jump on a plane in a heartbeat

Ugh. The feeling that hit was deeply bittersweet. For once, Lara actually cared that someone thought she was beautiful. It felt different now, Ollie kissing the silver stretch marks on her abdomen and the fine lines around her eyes, that look on her face when she said the word that made it adamantly clear she meant far more than just the way Lara looked. And then… the plane reminder.

Lara had to get her shit together. She did not want to blink and miss this.