Zane: The Wild One. BRONWYN JAMESON
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you had company earlier.” Her lips pursed on the word company, giving Julia enough time to think, Uh-oh. “If I’m not mistaken, it was that wild O’Sullivan boy.”
Boy? Julia didn’t think that tag quite fit her visitor, unless defined by the word bad.
“Back in town to visit with his sister, is he?”
“Yes, and—”
“He’s a bad egg, that one. Do you think it’s wise to have him in your yard, dear? I doubt your parents would approve. Your mother won’t have forgotten that window he broke in her office.”
“He’s grown up since then,” Julia pointed out, but Mrs. H. was in full flight.
Graffiti, vandalism, theft, arson—in her mind all Plenty’s crime of the past twenty years could be laid at the feet of “That wild O’Sullivan boy.” It was really too much, even for Mrs. H.
“Mrs. Hertzig? Mrs. Hertzig!” she tried a little more firmly. “Zane didn’t even live in Plenty when Larbett’s was broken into.”
“He can drive, can’t he?” And she was off again.
Julia frowned, disturbed by a side of Plenty gossip she had never considered. Then she heard the faint burr of a ringing phone.
“Excuse me, Mrs. Hertzig, but that sounds like my telephone. I’d best run and see if I can catch it.”
She felt Mrs. H.’s affronted glare boring into her back as she trotted off but couldn’t summon any guilt. Not even for denying her neighbour one of her few pleasures—someone to talk to, or at least to listen to her.
As Kree would likely be home by now, and if not the answering machine would pick up, there was no need to chase after the ringing phone. Except she did not want to hear any more stories about Zane’s wild youth, especially those she knew had been stretched and embellished until they bore no resemblance to the truth.
As she stepped onto the veranda, the phone stopped mid-ring. She opened the front door and called, “If that’s for me, I’m home.”
Kree’s head—an extraordinary shade of strawberry-blonde this week—appeared from the living room doorway. “Chantal,” she mouthed.
Since Julia’s dinner party no-show, her sister had been very cool. She would turn even frostier when she found out Julia had passed on dating Dan.
“I’ll take Mac,” Kree offered as she handed the receiver over; then she winked cheekily. “Don’t say anything I wouldn’t say.”
Which left plenty of leeway. Julia settled into the nearest armchair and put the receiver to her ear. “Hello, sis. What’s new?”
She hadn’t moved when Kree returned sometime later.
“That dog is such a guy. You know what he—” She came to an abrupt halt when she saw Julia’s face. “Hey, what’s up? Is it your parents? Has there been an accident?”
“No. It’s nothing like that.” Julia’s attempt at a reassuring smile failed badly, so she focused on the pattern in her Axminster rug as she struggled to put the crux of the phone call into words. “You know Paul’s cousin-in-law who works at Chantal’s law firm?”
“Janet Harrington?”
“She told Chantal that Paul is having a baby.”
“Wow.” Kree raked both hands through her short spiky hair. “How did that happen!”
“In the usual fashion, I should expect.”
Kree didn’t laugh at her attempted humor, but then it wasn’t a particularly funny attempt. Instead her eyes clouded with concern as she peered into Julia’s face. “How do you feel about it?”
“I’m still working on that one. I mean, how should I feel? He’s not my husband anymore. He has a new wife and obviously they’ve decided to start a family.”
“Doesn’t mean you can’t feel something.”
“Okay, so maybe I feel a little… I don’t know…”
“Heck, Jules, you were married to the schmuck for six years and he didn’t give you a thing worth keeping. She’s married to him six minutes and she gets a baby. You’ve a right to feel cheated.”
Cheated. Did that describe how she felt? Did it explain the strange sense of hollowness, the emotional black hole where her reaction should reside? Perhaps she should feel cheated by her seeming lack of emotion. Something more palpable, like the sharp spike of jealousy or the bitter taste of regret, would make more sense.
A baby was the one thing she had wanted, desperately, from her marriage, but Paul had wanted to wait a few more years. Paul had insisted they wait. And now she was fast approaching thirty, with no prospect of ever experiencing the joy of carrying a baby, of childbirth and motherhood.
“What if I can’t have one, Kree? What if I never do?”
Her voice sounded as empty as she felt, but there must have been something in her eyes, a trace of pain or the hint of a plea, because Kree sank down onto the arm of her chair.
“Oh, honey, there’s no need to think like that, not when you’ve never even tried.”
“By the time I do try, my ovaries will be all shriveled up.”
“Probably.” But there was compassion in her smile, and in her spontaneous hug. “But, hey, why do you need a baby? You have me to look after, and God knows I can be pretty immature.”
Julia couldn’t help but smile.
“And if you think not having a baby’s tragic, imagine if you had had one with Paul Petulant. What if the kid was just like daddy? Can you picture a two-year-old version of your ex-husband? The tantrums?” Kree gave a melodramatic shudder. “Honestly, Jules, you did not want that man’s child!”
She squeezed a little tighter before letting go and springing to her feet. Sitting still was not in Kree’s nature. Nor was dwelling on an issue.
“Enough of the sappy stuff—I feel like a drink. You gonna join me?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Come on,” she cajoled. “Let’s mix up something exotic, and then we can discuss your sex life.”
Julia rolled her eyes.
“Oh, that’s right. You don’t have a sex life, a small matter which will need remedying if you’re ever going to have that baby you yearn for.”
“I’m not about to go out and pick someone up just to get pregnant, if that’s what you’re implying. You know that’s not what I want.”
“Yeah, I know. All I’m saying is how do you expect to find this prince you so desperately want to marry and make babies with, when you spend half your life sitting around here? You need to get out more, have some fun, kiss a few frogs.”
“I’ve been meeting plenty of frogs.” I just haven’t been kissing any of them.
“Yes, well, your sister does seem to know her fair share.”
With the mood successfully lightened, Kree leaned down and tweaked Julia’s ponytail. “If you won’t try a new cocktail, how about trying a new colour?”
Julia started to shake her head.
“Oh, come on, Jules, this is exactly what you need. I could do you tomorrow after work. A decent cut, some red highlights—you’d be a new woman by nightfall.”
It wasn’t the first time Kree had begged to be let loose on Julia’s hair, but it was the first time Julia had been tempted. A new woman by nightfall. She liked the sound of that.
Sensing capitulation, Kree danced around the chair, talking colours and styles. All excited animation, she dragged her fingers through