Chapter 10
William
William knocked on the door of Juniper’s little cottage.
They hadn’t seen each other since their date to the butterfly enclosure, because he’d been caught up with work and Billy had been unwell.
He felt a surge of anticipation at seeing her again, at maybe sneaking in an opportunity to kiss her.
She hadn’t answered the door, so he knocked again, then frowned as he heard shuffling around inside, a violent sneeze, then an irritable Juniper saying to Billy, “Baby, don’t do that, please.
” She opened the door and he realized straight away that there would be no kissing today.
She looked like death, warmed up, pale and bedraggled, still in her pajamas.
“William!” Her voice was husky and she coughed on the word. “I’m so sorry. I completely forgot we were catching up today.”
“William! I’m playing with playdough!” Billy appeared at Juniper’s side and grabbed William’s hand, trying to pull him through the doorway.
“I’m not sure you want to come in here. It’s a den of sickness.” As if to prove her words, Juniper turned away to sneeze into a tissue.
“That’s okay, I never get sick.”
“Enter at your own risk then.”
She stood back to allow him to enter before moving to the overstuffed armchair near the window and curling into it, leaning her head back and closing her eyes. She looked absolutely miserable. “Why don’t you go and have a lie down?”
“Can’t. Billy.”
“I can watch him for a bit.”
It said something about how terrible she must be feeling that she didn’t protest, just got up and walked into the bedroom with a mumbled, “thanks so much,” and closed the door.
William turned to Billy, ensconced at the dining room table with piles of playdough and cutouts spread across the top. “It’s just you and me then, buddy. What are we gonna do?” Billy held up dinosaur shaped cookie cutters in response. “Okay then, playdough it is.”
They passed a good twenty minutes with William passing Billy the tools he needed to make his playdough dinosaur park but then the little boy started getting rowdy, making dinosaur noises as he played and smashing the plastic molds around.
No amount of protest from William to keep the noise down made any difference.
Billy would settle down for a little while, then the game would get too much for him and he’d get louder and louder.
As if to prove William’s point, Juniper came out of her room, shuffling slowly to the kitchen.
William pushed to his feet, hurrying to the sink to get her a drink.
She smiled her thanks as she took it, sipping tentatively.
“God, my throat feels like it’s on fire.” She put the glass down and just stood there, swaying slightly. William took a half step forward and pulled her against him, gently rubbing her back. She let her head fall on his chest with a sigh.
“I thought I could get Billy out of the house for a few hours. Maybe take him to the beach so you can get a proper rest?” He asked softly so that Billy couldn’t hear.
She pulled back, managing a small smile. “Sexier words have never been spoken.”
“Hey, mate, you wanna go to the beach?” Billy indicated strongly in the affirmative by clapping his hands loudly and dashing off to his room to get his hat. Juniper moved to follow him, but William grabbed her arm and steered her towards her bedroom. “I can get everything he needs.”
“Okay. His bag’s in the wardrobe, sandals on his shoe shelf and the sunscreen is in the side pocket of his bag. He can get his drink bottle himself. Just make him go to the toilet before you head out.”
They were out the door in under five minutes. William hustled to keep up with Billy as he raced across the lawn towards the gate.
“Take it easy, mate. You gotta hold my hand until we get to the beach.” William only felt slightly ridiculous strolling down the street with a Bluey backpack slung over his shoulder. Honestly, the things a man was prepared to do for the woman he…liked. A lot.
The first hour of play went pretty well.
The day was warm without being too hot, the sky clear and bright.
Being a weekday, the beach wasn’t too crowded, the seagulls being the main occupants.
William was helping Billy pile damp sand as high as it could go when Billy suddenly pushed to his feet, with a mulish frown on his face, and kicked the top off the sandcastle.
“Hey!” William exclaimed, brushing sand off his shorts. Billy kicked again then jumped on the castle, flattening it. “What are you doing?”
“Sandcastles are stupid!”
“Well, you could have said that before we spent the better part of an hour building one!” William was confused. It seemed so out of character for Billy to throw a tantrum and as far as he could tell, it had come entirely out of the blue. “Stop doing that!”
“You can’t tell me what to do!” Billy replied, giving the sand a hard kick in William’s direction.
“Yes, I can!”
“Just coz you love Mummy, doesn’t mean you’re the boss of me!”
William was struck speechless. He sputtered; his mind was absolutely blank. All he could manage was, “What are you talking about?”
“I can see it in your colors.” Billy plopped down on his bottom, crossed his arms and glared at William, his angelic face a picture of obstinacy.
William pushed his fingers through his hair, more than a little overwhelmed. “What would you know about it, you’re not even three years old.”
They had a stare off for a long moment, William totally clueless on what he should do next. Then to his relief, Billy’s face crumpled, and he looked down at his feet. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.
“Okay.”
Billy looked up through his lashes, tears welling in his eyes. “Don’t be cross.”
“I’m not cross.”
“Yes, you are.”
“Maybe a little. Come here.”
Billy scrambled to his feet and jumped forward, throwing himself into William’s arms.
“You know what we need?”
“What?” The boy asked, his face pressed against William’s neck.
“Ice cream.”
“Oooh yeah!” Billy jumped to his feet, grabbed his sun hat and jammed it on his blonde curls. “Let’s go.”
“Hey, what are the rules?”
“I gotta hold your hand.”
“That’s right, so wait up.”
Harmony restored, they walked across the footpath and over the road, but instead of heading up the Main Street, Billy pulled William’s hand.
“Ice cream shop’s up here, buddy.”
“I don’t feel like ice cream.”
“Really? Because two minutes ago you couldn’t get enough of the idea.”
Billy shrugged and tugged on William’s hand.
Curious to see where they were headed and figuring the longer they spent out of the house, the more chance Juniper had to rest, William allowed Billy to lead the way.
They turned left into the next street off Beach Road, then took the second street on the right.
William looked around. He couldn’t figure out where they were going, until Billy stopped in front of a two-story red brick home with a large front yard and a long driveway that led back to an enormous shed.
“Nora has cookies.”
“You little brat! I’m not knocking on Nora’s door demanding cookies. I barely know her.”
“She’ll make you tea and then you know her.”
Well, that was a point that was hard to argue against. But still. “No, buddy. Let’s go and have ice cream.” Just as Billy’s shoulders were slumping and his lip beginning to wobble, John came out to the door of the shed and called out.
“Hey, young fella. What’re you doing here?”
“Nora has cookies,” he stated, walking down the drive toward John.
“That she does. If you ask real nice, and use your manners, she might give you one.”
Billy looked up at William triumphantly. “See!” he whispered in a loud aside.
“You’re a scoundrel.”
Billy grinned, delighted at the insult. Then he walked off, hands in his pockets, saying “scoundrel, scoooundrel, scoundrelll” to himself as he climbed the back steps and reached up on tiptoes to pull on the door handle. “Nora! I’m a scoundrel!” he shouted as he went inside.
“I’ve often said that,” William heard Nora call back then both men smiled as Billy’s giggle floated on the air.
William briefly explained how they’d ended up on John’s doorstep demanding cookies, much to John’s amusement. “He sure is a scallywag, but we wouldn’t have him any other way.”
“True.” William followed John as he went back into the shed, dropping Billy’s backpack onto the wide workbench. “This is a great setup you’ve got here.”
“Yeah, it does the job. Cuppa?”
“Sure, thanks.”
John moved to a bench against the back wall. Filling the kettle up at the sink, he said, “So, Juniper’s not well?”
“No. She’s caught what Billy had, apparently.”
As the kettle boiled, John turned and leaned back against the counter, surveying William. There was an unmistakably parental glint in his eye that had William swallowing convulsively. “And you’re just looking out for her, are you?”
“Something like that.”
John watched him a moment longer then turned to get mugs from the cupboard. “Good,” was all he said. The screen door into the house crashed open, and the sound of Billy’s sandals slapping on the pavement could be heard. Then Billy appeared, hugging a Tupperware container to his chest.
“I got cookies, but Nora said you can only have two.” He studiously handed the container to John, watching as he removed four cookies and put them on a plate, placing the lid back on the container.
Satisfied that Nora’s dictum was being adhered to, Billy moved to a low table that was covered in plastic tools.
He plonked himself down in the chair and picked up a toy drill.
“I’ve gotta finish making the house.” It was abundantly clear that he spent a lot of time here and thoroughly enjoyed himself.
John made the tea, then took his, saying, “I just have to make a quick phone call. You’re okay here?”
“Sure.”
With Billy settled at his own little workbench, William was left to wander around at will.
There was a large bin full of wooden offcuts from John’s latest project.
William picked up a small piece, weighed it in his hand, discarded it, reached for another.
Once he found the right piece, he looked around and sure enough, on the shelf attached to the wall, there was a set of wood cutting knives.
He picked up a whittling knife and, moving back to Billy’s side of the shed, he leaned against the wall and, crossing one foot in front of the other, started working at the block of wood.
He kept one ear cocked for Billy’s chatter but as he sliced the knife into the wood, shaving away at it here and there, working the wood around in his hand.
He focused as the shape in his mind emerged in the wood, and the rest of the world faded away.
John returned just as he’d finished. “You a whittler?”
William shrugged. “Used to be. Don’t have much time for it now.”
John looked from the turtle he’d just whittled to William and back again. “Well, you’re damn good at it.”
William squirmed self-consciously. “Ah, thanks. Here you go, buddy.” He held out the little wooden turtle to Billy, who glanced up from his very busy work. His eyes fell on the turtle and widened.
“For me?”
“Sure.”
“You made me a turtle?” Billy reached for it, holding it in his hands reverently. “John, William made me a turtle!”
“I can see that. You look after it now.”
“I will! It’s the best turtle I’ve ever seen! Can you make me a frog?”
“I don’t think John wants us using up all his tools and stuff on that sort of thing.”
“On the contrary, John would really like to see how you did that. Help yourself.” He waved his arm expansively.
More than a little self-conscious now but figuring it would look stupid to make a fuss by refusing, William moved over to the bin of offcuts, testing a few before he found one that was the right size and weight.
Then he sat down on a stool and set to work.
As he worked at shaping the wood, narrowing his focus until everything else melted into the background, he was unaware of John watching him.
When he’d finished, he surveyed his work.
A bit rough, but no doubt the kid would be happy.
“There you go, mate,” he looked up to see Billy staring at him.
“Your colors got so white,” he whispered wonderingly, taking the carved frog from William and clutching it to his chest.
“That’s quite a talent you’ve got there, son.”
William shrugged as he turned his attention to John. “It’s just a hobby I used to muck around with when I was a teenager.”
John shrugged in return, clearly realizing the conversation was making William uncomfortable. “If you say so.”
“Well, we’d better head home. Thanks for the cuppa.”
“Any time.”