Instant Family (29 page)

She missed playing. The guitar vibrated with passion in her
hands, sang to her, interpreted her feelings the way nothing else
could, expressed her emotions better than words. It was also her
refuge. She hugged the instrument to her, waiting for Seb to state his
business.

"Have you spoken to Alex since... you know?" he asked, keeping his voice low. He stepped into the room and closed the door.

"No." Chloe ran her hand up and down the fingerboard, silently
practicing the pattern she'd been working on when he came in. Her
index finger was stiff and unwieldy, still painful, and some positions
were impossible.

"Are you going to call him?"

"I don't know. No, I don't think so." She stared at the piece on the
music stand, then turned the page, even though she hadn't finished
that section.

"Can I?"

"Don't interfere in this, Seb!" She glared at him so fiercely, he
held his palms up to ward off her anger.

"I'm not. I won't say anything about you. But I don't see why I
shouldn't see him. He was my friend first."

Chloe strummed a chord. She adjusted the tuning, strummed
again. "Fine."

"Good." He hesitated with his hand on the doorknob. "What will
I say if he asks about you?"

Chloe shrugged. "Whatever you like."

Seb heaved a sigh of total exasperation and opened the door. She
resumed her practice.

The phone was ringing when Alex came home after dropping
Steffie at Lucy's. He didn't rush to answer it, allowing the machine
to do its job while he removed his jacket and went to the kitchen to
make coffee. He couldn't be bothered talking to anyone, didn't feel
like going out, didn't want to stay home, didn't want to work. Steffie
had roused him from his torpor briefly, but with school resuming tomorrow, she'd gone home earlier than usual.

"Hi, Alex" Seb's voice floated into the room, and Alex raced to
snatch up the receiver. A lifeline. A link to his love, albeit secondhand. He'd thought, in his deepest depression, she might forbid the
boys any contact, and that pained him on a whole other level.

"G'day mate. How are you?"

"Fine. School starts tomorrow." Glum.

"I know. Steffie wasn't happy about it either. What have you been
up to?"

"Not much. I wanted to call you before, but I wasn't sure if I
should."

"You can call me anytime, Seb. I told you that"

"I know, but...

"Did Chloe tell you not to call me?"

"No! Why would she do that?" Too fast, that reply. Too anxious to
reassure. Did Seb know about the proposal and its aftermath? How
much did the Gardiners confide in each other?

"What, then?"

"I didn't know if you'd want me to. You didn't say good-bye."

Alex smacked himself on the forehead. So that was it! Dope! That
last night he'd charged off without so much as a yelled good night to
the boys. "Sorry, Seb. I left in a bit of a rush. I've been away for a few
days, and I turned the cell off-didn't want to be bugged by work stuff.
Nothing to do with you." He gave an unconvincing-sounding laugh.
"How's Chloe's finger?"

"Getting better. She played today for the first time." To his relief
Seb's voice lightened, the excuse for his rudeness accepted.

"Good.,,

"She's not very happy, though." It was said in a stiff, awkward
way, as though he'd prepared the words carefully before delivery.
Why did he feel there was a subtext here? That Seb was working
toward something? Warily, like a stalking cat.

"Why do you say that?" Equally awkward, equally stiff.

"She hardly says anything. And she hasn't smiled for ages. She's
like a zombie," he added.

That made two of them. Two miserable people in love with each
other. Apart, when they should be together. He'd never considered
that she might be feeling the same way. She'd seemed completely in
control, her green eyes flinty. She'd seemed to know exactly what
she wanted, and it wasn't him.

Was she having second thoughts? He certainly was. The grand gesture of denial, of martyring himself and his love to her wishes, was far
more difficult than he'd imagined when he dashed off that spontaneous note and stuck it into her screen door. It was downright impossible. By the second day he'd begun to suffer withdrawal symptoms.

"What can I do?"

"I dunno. Come and see her. Talk to her or something. Bring her
flowers again. She liked the flowers."

Red roses to symbolize true and lasting love. A simplistic solution
to a complex problem. To a fourteen-year-old it would all appear
quite straightforward.

"I don't think I can help you this time, Seb. I don't think she
wants to see me."

"Don't take any notice of her." It was said with such disdain, Alex
smiled despite the ache in his chest. "We reckon you and Chloe
should get together."

A huge weight was lifted from his chest. He had reinforcements,
spies on the inside. He could mount a campaign, a siege. Think it
through this time. Plan. "Would you like that?"

"Yeah, it's obvious."

"I think so too. Chloe doesn't."

"She's just scared."

That jolted through him like a shock from a cattle prod. "What
of? Me?"

"No. Not you. Maybe because her dad left our mother, and that
dropkick Lachlan dumped her too."

"I think it's more complicated than that, Seb." If only it were simply a case of untrustworthy men in her life. He'd proven his worth;
he was sure of it. She'd accepted and forgiven the misjudgments
over Seb. She'd been amazed that he'd ditch the HIA awards to
take her to the doctor, when in truth he hadn't hesitated. She knew
he was willing to take on the children. It wasn't lack of trust in him
that scared her now. It was commitment. The sacrifice of her potential freedom, as she saw it. Ironic, really. That had been his stance,
initially.

"I just think you should come over"

"I'll see." Into the disappointed silence from the other end of
the line he said, "What about you? We could get in an hour or so at the
basketball courts before dark."

"Sure" The change of mood was astounding. Seb positively bubbled with enthusiasm.

"Meet you at the school in ten minutes."

"Great!"

Chloe could only nod her approval when Seb and Julian told
her they were meeting Alex. It was easy for them. They could call
him anytime they liked, whereas she, who adored him, couldn't.
He wouldn't welcome contact from her. She'd thrown his proposal into his face and, together with that, his passion, told himridiculously and stupidly beyond imagining-that she didn't want
to see him again.

What had she been thinking?

He was a proud man, an attractive, popular, successful, busy man.
He wouldn't be wasting any more of his time on such an idiot; he'd
made that clear in his note. If she went to him and begged forgiveness, what else would he say other than, "Sorry. I've had enough."

Simone had told her in no uncertain terms not to fool around and
play games with a man's heart. She'd meant in relation to using Brent
Burrows to make Alex jealous. Chloe hadn't meant to play games, but
she had. And she'd lost.

She'd had a week to regret her foolishness, and she had, during
every tortured, sleepless moment. Experience had taught her that
the sharp edge of pain dulls in time. The sense of loss doesn't go
away, but it can be lived with, covered and obscured by other things, mundane things that take up the days and prevent one from sinking
into a morass of destructive self-pity.

Five years ago the children had been her savior; they would be
again. She had no time to wallow in her misery. Her guilty conscience would have to fend for itself.

The boys returned an hour later, bursting with surplus energy and
starving. Chloe, peeling potatoes in the kitchen with Katy, strained
her ears as they crashed in through the front door. Three voices? No,
only two. Alex wouldn't come home with them. Not anymore.

"What's for dinner?" called Julian as he passed on his way to his
room.

"Bangers and mash," yelled Katy.

"Good"

Seb appeared and headed for the fridge. "Have fun?" Chloe
asked.

"Yeah." He held the door open while considering his options.

"Get the carrots while you're there. Don't eat anything."

He dumped carrots onto the counter. "Alex asked how your finger
was"

"It's better."

"That's what I told him."

Chloe picked up the knife. Seb moved across and took it from her.

"Don't want you to amputate any more fingers," he said. He began cutting the potatoes into cubes. "Alex went to Sydney for a few
days." Chloe busied herself with a carrot and the peeler. "He doesn't
think you want to see him again."

"Why not?" asked Katy. "I like him."

"Don't interfere, Seb."

"I'm not. I didn't say a word."

"What are you talking about?" demanded Katy.

"Nothing." Chloe threw down the peeler. "You can finish doing
this, Seb"

"You should talk to him," he yelled as she strode from the room.
"You're both being stupid."

Talk to him? When she talked to Alex, she said the wrong things.
Things that weren't in her heart but in the dark recesses of her mind.
They got mixed up with the purity of her love for him. Confused and
fouled by doubts and hidden fears she wasn't even sure of and didn't know she had until they emerged as hurtful arrows, aimed at the one
person she wanted above all to love her.

If only she could speak to him without words. He knew how she
felt when she kissed him, but she couldn't knock on his door and
throw herself on him without warning. She had to let him know she
was sorry for trampling on his proposal and let him see she'd changed
her mind. Beyond that it was up to him. Her conscience, at least,
would be clear. In time she might even sleep peacefully again.

That night when the children were in bed, Chloe tapped on Seb's
door. He shifted so she could sit on the edge of his bed.

"Do you think I should go to see him?"

"Yes."

"What would I say?"

"Tell him you've changed your mind."

"He might have changed his."

"He hasn't."

"How do you know?"

"I can tell." He stared at her with a confident smirk.

Chloe held her hands to her head and screwed up her face.
Aaaargh. I don't know what I'm doing anymore," she wailed softly.
"Taking romantic advice from a fourteen-year-old." But she tempered
the groan with an anguished smile. "Thanks, Seb."

He picked up his book. "No problem. Just get it sorted out, will
you? The sooner the better for all of us."

Too early for bed. Not that sleep would come any more easily this
night. Chloe went to her music room and opened the guitar case.
She couldn't express in words what was in her heart, but she could
play it and sing it. She sat down and began softly strumming chords
and humming. Amanda had done clever arrangements for the duo,
making the most of the lush chords and beautiful melodies of jazz
standards. The lyrics of those old tunes were fantastic, so poetic and
emotional. Fitting perfectly with the melodic line. So expressive.

"I've Got You Under My Skin" said it all. This version was slow.
The drawn-out phrasing emphasized the pathos of the words, the
hopeless, captured, lovelorn state of the singer. Exactly how she was
at the moment.

Chloe stopped mid-bar. Maybe she should play to Alex. Sing. Not
"I've Got You Under my Skin" but a different song. She frowned. Something that said I love you very clearly. She flipped through the
folder of tunes. Stopped. A favorite. Van Morrison. "Have I Told You
Lately That I Love You?" Perfect! It said everything she wanted to
say in a far better way than she could. She glanced at her watch.
Now? Ten past eleven. Not too late. She stood up.

Sat down.

Stood up. If she didn't act immediately, she wouldn't be brave
enough.

Go.

She packed her guitar into its case and snapped the catches. Seb
was still reading when she peeked into his room.

"Turn out that light," she said. "I'm popping out for a few minutes."

"Alex?"

She nodded. "Wish me luck."

"You won't need it," he said, and he switched off the light.

At first she thought Alex must be in bed, because all the windows
were dark, but as she approached the house, walking carefully up the
driveway, a dull glow showed through the living-room curtain. The
sensor lights came on, illuminating the path to the door. The path to
her future? Happiness?

Her gloved fingers clutched the handle of the guitar case. Her insides writhed. This was worse than any recital she'd done, worse than
performance exams. Worse than Seb in court. What if he laughed at
her choice of song? Or at her voice? Maybe she should just play instead. But if he didn't know the words, the whole thing would be
meaningless. What would he think of her coming around in the middle of the night to play some tune he'd never heard? Another ridiculous act on the part of Chloe Gardiner.

She extended a finger to the doorbell. Withdrew it.

No.

Go home. This is insane. She backed away slowly. Turned and took
a shaky step down. Her stomach churned. She might be sick.

The front door opened.

"Chloe?"

She froze.

Alex's heart thudded like a pile driver as he stepped outside. Was
it really her, here on his porch in the middle of the night? She half
turned.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you." Her expression was blank,
her mouth tight.

"You didn't. Come inside. It's cold."

He extended his arm, and she hesitated, then stepped up and into
the house. What was she doing here? His amazed gaze dropped to
her guitar. On the way home from a gig? Come to ask him not to encourage the boys, perhaps? His jaw tightened. Not fair if that were
the case. He closed the door and followed her into the living room.

Chloe held up a gloved hand. "Please. Don't say anything." She
glanced around helplessly. "Sit down."