Just For You (Escape to New Zealand), page 6
“Why not?” Aaron asked, lifting his foot to the bench to lace his shoe. “It’s going to be an awesome night. Best one yet. Damn, I’m good at this. I should go into business. Party planning.” He chuckled.
“Yeh, well,” Hemi said. “There’s a word for that.”
“You saying I’m a pimp?” Aaron laughed again. “Could be, mate. Could be. Wait till you see Mandy. Let’s say she’s got some talents her parents probably don’t know about, and a fair few friends who are as hot as she is—and just about as inhibited. She told me the Blues are their very favorite team, and you know how those girls love to support the team. Heaps of the other boys are coming. We got the win, time to celebrate.”
“In preseason,” Hemi pointed out. “Which means just about nothing.”
“You get religion, these past weeks? No fun at all, are you. Is it that girl? The one in Russell?”
“Yeh,” Hemi said. “Maybe it is. Or could be it’s all just getting a bit old.”
“A bit old?” Aaron asked in astonishment. “What, footy, beer, sex? Yeh, some of my least favorite things, aren’t they. You’re whipped, is what it is. A couple days with one girl, and I’ve lost my wingman.”
“I’m not your wingman.” Hemi got his own shoes on and started to pack up his kit.
“All right,” Aaron said. “I’m your wingman. I’ve lost my…wingmaster.” He laughed again, because seriousness wasn’t Aaron’s strong suit. “Come on. You can spend the night staring disapprovingly at the rest of us if you like, while we take advantage of what’s on offer. But I told Mandy you’d be there, and she’s got a couple of friends who’re dying to meet you. You’ll ruin my party before it starts if you aren’t there. Don’t let me down, I’m begging you, because that girl’s got a mouth like a hoover.”
“Aw, that’s some class,” Hemi said.
“Come on,” Aaron urged. “Help a mate out. What are you going to do otherwise?”
“Dunno. Early night?” At Aaron’s snort, he added piously, “My body is a temple.”
“Yeh, right. A temple you could find a girl or two to worship at tonight. I know that’s my plan. Come on. It’ll be good. You’ll see.”
Aaron was right, Hemi decided. Where was the harm? It was just a party. No harm in going to a party. Not like he had anything else to do.
It was, he had to admit a couple hours later, one of Aaron’s better efforts. The music was loud, the girls weren’t bad at all, and Aaron had a pretty sweet setup in the house he was renting in Newmarket. Every randy teenage boy’s dream, in fact. Hemi chalked the cue, lined up his shot, and sent another ball into the side pocket, then stood up, grabbed his beer, and took a long pull as he checked out the table.
He heard the shriek and stood, cue in one hand, his beer forgotten halfway to his lips, as the blonde at the air hockey table across from him lunged ineffectually after the caroming puck that crashed into its slot. She threw down her mallet in exaggerated despair, did some pouting, and flounced around a bit, which was all a pretty entertaining sight.
And then it got better, because she heaved a mighty sigh, crossed her arms over her chest and shimmied the tight, low-cut black top up past the black bra with its red lace trim that Hemi had been catching glimpses of all evening, and there was no chance he was going to stop looking now. She tossed it to one side, leaving her clad only in the bra, a little plaid pleated skirt that had clearly been designed with a naughty schoolgirl vibe in mind, and black over-the-knee stockings that were doing the business as well. Hemi had a feeling they’d be seeing whatever was under the skirt pretty soon, because she was fairly well away, and she didn’t seem to be trying that hard to win.
“I’m so terrible,” she wailed, an expression of comical distress twisting her bee-stung lips.
“Nah, darling,” Nikau said soothingly from opposite her, not bothering to hide his grin. “Good as gold. You just keep on playing. You’re distracting me so well, I’m bound to start losing any time now, have to start getting my own kit off, tragic as the idea is. I hate to lose, all of us boys do. That’s the competitive fire in us. When we do, it’s a sad, sad experience. Think you can help me out with that, if it happens? Because that’s what I’m counting on.”
“Well…” A saucy smile curved her pretty mouth, and the wicked gleam in her blue eyes told Hemi that she had plans of her own for this party. She picked up her mallet again. “We’ll see. And you shouldn’t have told me that. Now I’ve got a psychological advantage.”
“Oh, sweetheart,” Nikau said, “you’ve had that from the start.”
She laughed, tossed her head of streaked blonde hair a bit, and cast a coy glance over her shoulder at the pool table, because Hemi and Nikau weren’t the only ones looking at her. “Is that right? You’d better look out, then, because I’m coming after you. I’m going to win, and then maybe, if you ask me very nicely, I’ll see what I can do about your sad experience.”
“You playing pool, mate,” Drew Callahan said opposite Hemi, amusement lurking in the gray eyes, “or watching?”
Hemi grinned back at his skipper, appointed only this season and already looking like he’d been born into the job. Not looking a bit pissed, either, whereas the three or four beers Hemi had had, on top of the tough match, were already having their effect. “Call it a break,” he suggested.
“Yeh,” Drew said. “Break’s over. Play pool.”
Hemi lost, not that it was a big surprise. Because the girl—Lexi, he thought her name was—was bad at air hockey, and before long, the skirt had joined the shirt, and it was just bra, undies, and those over-the-knee black stockings, and, well, he’d just say it was a good look on her.
Nikau had lost his own shirt, but Hemi wouldn’t have said he’d been trying as hard as he could have. More being efficient, getting his kit off ahead of time. The music was pumping, his teammates were wandering in and out, accompanied by what Hemi was beginning to suspect was half the off-duty personnel of the local Showgirls franchise and a fair few of their friends, just as Aaron had promised. Plenty of entertainment for just about every unpartnered member of the Blues squad, most of whom were here tonight.
“Another game?” Drew asked. Still annoyingly sober, Hemi realized through the haze of his own beer goggles. Good for a beer and a laugh and not much more, not when anybody was there to watch. Hemi knew that Drew had his own wild side—and a real weakness for blondes, because Hemi hadn’t been the only one looking. But whatever Drew got up to, he was always discreet.
“Nah.” Hemi set his cue back in the rack with some effort. “I’ve had a skinful. Going to call it a night. You?” He nodded in Lexi’s direction. “Don’t want to…party?”
Drew’s lips twisted. “Let’s say I’m more about exclusivity. Didn’t know you were, though.”
“Yeh, well.” Hemi shrugged. “I’m done for tonight, anyway.”
Drew looked at him dubiously. “Need a lift?”
“Nah. I’ll just have a bit of a lie-down.”
Drew hesitated a moment, and Hemi could almost read his thoughts. “No worries,” he told his skipper. “It’s all ka pai.”
Well, maybe not all. There was a couple on the couch doing some fairly serious snogging, a few more doing some very dirty dancing in the lounge, and Lexi had just missed another shot that had whizzed straight under the toned body she’d flung forward in her attempt to block it, leaving her perched on her tiptoes and sprawled across the table in her heels and very little else, because she’d lost both stockings, and what was coming off next was going to be pretty interesting. In short, things were looking like being out of control at this party in a hurry.
A year ago, Hemi’d have been right in there with the rest of them. Now…well, he was watching, couldn’t help that. But that seemed to be all he was doing.
He wandered out into the passage, eventually, finishing off his latest beer along the way, found the stairs, and lifted his feet with care onto each riser. Geez, he was pissed. He opened the door to a bedroom and shut it again pretty smartly. Whoops. Eventually, though, he found an empty room and collapsed on the bed without bothering with the covers.
Somebody ought to turn the music down before the neighbors rang the police, he thought fuzzily, and that was about the last thing he did think. For a while.
Until the girls turned up.
“Thanks for coming,” Ana said on Sunday afternoon, opening the door to Reka’s knock with Tamati over her shoulder, looking back the other way. “Tai! Stop it!”
“Thought Auntie Kiri was taking the kids,” Reka said.
“Yeh.” It was a sigh. “She had to go over to the Vortex. Somebody didn’t come in. Again.”
“Training café,” Reka said. “Training them to show up, more like. Or trying to.” She reached for the baby, jogged him up and down in her arms, saw his little face light up with the beauty of his smile. Oh, how she’d miss her nephews when they left. Her heart twisted at the thought of it.
“Uncle Matiu said he’d take them,” Ana went on, “but I’m waiting till Tamati goes down for his nap. He can’t handle both.”
“Well, then,” Reka said, “want me to pack, or mind kids?”
“Pack, please,” Ana said. “It’s just…so much. I weeded down, and weeded down, and I can’t see how we still have so much. Most of it’s rubbish, I know that, but not rubbish I can afford to buy all over again. And how’re we going to fit it all into the flat?”
“Easy as,” Reka said bracingly as they moved into the jungle of pasteboard boxes and piles of gear, with Tai bang in the middle of it all. He’d dumped a pile of mini racecars out of a plastic bag, was sending them on a noisy journey around a pile of his baby brother’s clothes and up onto a stack of books.
Reka left him to it. He had to do something, and this was less destructive than some games he could be playing. She dropped to her knees and began to sort the haphazard piles into reasonable categories. “You’ve had most of their things in two rooms of the house,” she told her cousin as she did it, “and you’re moving into a two-bedroom flat. Same space. It just looks bad because you don’t have it shoved into drawers, that’s all. Got a marker for these boxes?”
“Um…” Ana looked around vaguely. “Desk, maybe.”
Reka didn’t waste any more time, just got stuck in. Ana’s man Joseph had insisted, on hearing the news about Tai’s near escape, that it was time for the family to be together again, and Ana, despite her doubts and fears about leaving her native country, had acquiesced.
“Wish we didn’t have to go,” she sighed now, sitting cross-legged on the floor and beginning to feed Tamati. “But it’s too hard, being alone. Even though I’m not alone, because I’m with Mum and Uncle Matiu, and you, and all the cousins, and there I’ll just be with Joseph. Am I doing the right thing, d’you think?”
“Just with Joseph, and the kids, and half the rest of En Zed,” Reka reminded her. “Everyone’ll be in the same boat, surely. Missing the whanau, helping each other out. They’re still Maori, aren’t they. You’ll be having a hangi before you know it. Roast kangaroo.” She grinned at her cousin. “I hear it tastes like chicken.”
“Doesn’t,” Ana said with a reluctant smile. “More like venison, if anything.”
“There you go.” Reka had found the marker, was filling a box with books and toys. This wouldn’t be too bad, not really. A couple hours, and she’d have Ana sorted. It was a good move. Families were meant to be together.
Ana finished feeding the baby, put him down for his nap, and Uncle Matiu came in from his garden and took Tai back to the bedroom, and it went faster with the two of them working, though Ana was still quiet, subdued. Overwhelmed, Reka thought.
“Need to tell you something,” Ana said abruptly when they were nearly finished.
“Tell ahead.” She hoped Ana wasn’t going to confess something Reka didn’t need to hear.
“It’s about Hemi.”
“Hemi?” Reka sat back on her heels, her box forgotten.
“You know he had a game last night.”
“Yeh. I saw it, at the Duke. Much as I could.” Because she’d had a shift, and the bar had been busy. “They won. Preseason, though, doesn’t mean much, he said.”
“Well…” Ana was fussing unnecessarily with a pile of baby onesies. “You know my cousin Joann, on my dad’s side.”
“Not so much.” Now Reka was confused.
Ana waved a hand. “Yeh. Third cousin, I guess she is. Well, she’s got a friend from school days, a bit of a party girl. Joann rang me today from Auckland, told me her friend was meant to meet her for breakfast this morning, and begged off. Said she was out late at a party last night. Quite the piss-up, she said.”
“Uh-huh,” Reka said. “And this is about Hemi how?”
“It was a party with some of the Blues,” Ana said, still not looking her in the eye. “After the match, and Hemi was one of them. Joann was just telling me, you know, the way you do. Chatting. Gossip.”
“Oh.” Reka forced herself to start her packing again. “Well, I guess they do have some parties.”
“I hate to tell you this,” Ana said. “Been asking myself over and over what the best thing is. But if it were me, if it were Joseph…And knowing what happened before.”
“Just tell me,” Reka said, the cold beginning to seep in. “Come on.”
“She said, Joann said her mate said, that it was late, and she thought Hemi’d gone. And then she was upstairs, in the toilet, and two girls came out of a bedroom. Half-dressed, she said. Talking about him. About…being with him, in there.”
“Two girls,” Reka said, her hands still moving mechanically, heedless of the ice that had gripped her heart. “Not even one.”
“Yeh. Well, he’s a sportsman,” Ana said. “Worse, he’s an All Black. Could be they all do it. Could be their partners just put up with it, who knows. But I thought you should know. I thought I should tell you. I’ll never forget how he saved Tai, and I’ll always be grateful to him for that. But…”
“Yeh. Thanks.” Reka turned away, pulled another box towards her, and set her chin. “Let’s finish this. I have work tomorrow.”
“And Hemi coming, don’t you?” Ana asked tentatively. “What are you going to say to him?”
“Dunno. But I’m sure I’ll think of something.”
She’d done it again, she raged at herself as she walked home across the garden, when she permitted herself the luxury of thinking about it, and wished she hadn’t. Let herself fall, just like the last time, just like she’d done so many times, and how stupid was she, to keep making the same mistake over and over and over again? Falling for a handsome face and a fit body, mistaking heat for warmth, urgency for connection, and paying the price. Always paying the price, because that was what happened when you led with your heart instead of your head.
She went to work the next morning as usual, put what she’d heard, what she knew, what she’d lost into the back of her mind, because her kids needed her. But by the time she walked home at four, the effort it had taken not to fall apart all day had taken its toll, feet felt leaden, and the thought of seeing Hemi, of telling him what she knew, saying what she knew she had to say, made her heart hurt with a pain so strong, she had all she could do not to clutch at her chest with it. And that made her even angrier. At him, and at herself.
She considered getting made up for him, but what was the point? She changed into a sundress, because it was warm, left her hair in its knot, her feet bare. And when he knocked on the door, she opened it, and the anger and sorrow and trepidation over what was coming just about knocked her down.
The broad smile that met her turned cautious as he read her expression. “Something wrong?” he hazarded. “Something happen? Your family?”
“Something’s wrong,” she said, stepping back to let him come inside, wishing that he weren’t so big, that he weren’t so strong, that he didn’t look so good to her, that she didn’t wish she could fling herself into his arms and have none of this be true. She didn’t want to have this conversation, she wanted it to be the way she’d dreamed it would be, and yet she wanted to tell him, to fling the words at him like spears. She wanted to wound him the way he’d wounded her. “But it’s not my family,” she told him. “You thought I wouldn’t know. Do you think because I don’t know, it’s all right? It’s not all right. It’s. Not. All. Right.”
“What’s not?” he asked, standing still, barely inside her doorway and looking nothing but confused. “What’s not all right? What the hell are you talking about?”
“That you’ve been telling me all this, about how you feel about me, being so special, all that, then going off and shagging somebody else. Whoever you can find. Whoever’s there,” she spat, heedless of the tears in her eyes. “Just like before. Just like always. You told me you’ve changed, and you haven’t. How stupid do you think I am? How bloody stupid?”
“Right now,” he said, and his face was grim, set, nothing like the cheerful, charming Hemi she’d known, “I think you’re pretty stupid. Because you’re talking rubbish. I haven’t been shagging anybody, and I’d like to know why you think I have.”
“Nobody you thought I’d find out about. You didn’t know that one of the girls at that party last night was Ana’s cousin’s friend, did you? You didn’t know I’d hear. You thought I would never know, and that made it all right?”
“Whose friend? What?”
“My cousin. Ana. Her cousin Joann has a friend, and the friend was there, one of those girls at that party with you. And she told Joann about those girls in that bedroom with you. And what I want to know,” Reka said, not able to help the anguish in her voice, “is why? Why tell me you cared? Why make me believe, if you didn’t mean it? Why hurt me like this?” She was crying now, and she was raging, and she couldn’t help any of it. “Why, Hemi? Why?”
