Chapter 25
TEETERING ON THE EDGE
It was exactly one week later, and exactly one day before they flew home and the holiday was over.
Oh, and exactly six hours before tonight’s All Blacks match.
Which would be held right here, in Wellington.
Zane would be skipper again. He’d also be leading the haka again, and this time, she’d be watching in person.
Just the thought of him pacing between the rows of men, calling out the challenge, was enough to give her gooseflesh.
And, yes, she wanted to see him slapping a hand against a flexed, tattooed bicep while his entire body radiated that ferocious determination.
Of course she did. Anybody with estrogen in her body would want to see that.
So, yes, tonight. But meanwhile, there was today, and by the time the third argument had broken out, she’d had enough. She shut her laptop, where she’d been checking on any last-minute changes for the new term, and announced, “Everybody get their things together. We’re going to Te Papa.”
“What?” Scarlett said. “We’ve already been twice this holidays, and it’s Dad’s match tonight!”
“Against Ireland, Mum,” Finlay said. “They barely lost against France in the Six Nations, and the All Blacks beat France last week, but they barely did, and Ireland has their good winger back again now, so they’ll be better on attack than they were then, and the All Blacks aren’t—”
Scarlett said, “Other people besides you know about rugby, you realize.”
“My mum doesn’t,” Finlay said. “I’m explaining to her that it’s a very important match, that’s all.”
Skylar didn’t say, “I do so know about rugby,” because (a), she really didn’t, and (b), that wasn’t the point. She said, “Yes, it’s an important match, which is why we’re probably all a bit on edge, waiting for it.” And waiting for Zane, she didn’t say.
Because … yeh.
What exactly had happened during the previous week?
Well, first, there’d been Sunday, which had started out in a pattern that was becoming annoyingly familiar.
As in, a slightly bleary-eyed Skylar had cooked breakfast for all six kids and told herself, Not the nanny.
A guest. A guest who happens to be acting like a nanny.
And then, of course, Why are you whinging?
You’re on holiday with your three kids, staying in a beautiful house in one of the most expensive cities in New Zealand, and doing all these activities for free!
Unfortunately, she couldn’t quite shut out the “nanny” idea.
She’d swim one last time after the match tonight, she vowed, tired as she felt just now.
Nannies didn’t take lovely moonlit swims in the family’s beautifully heated swimming pool, did they?
No, they did not. It was all in how you looked at it.
She was being so determinedly positive that when Granddad and Maureen waltzed in at nine forty-five, she put down her book—which she was reading while stretched out on an extremely luxurious leather chair in this lovely house in this lovely city, again in an un-nanny-like fashion, while the little kids played outside and the older ones played cards in Scarlett and Olive’s room—and smiled.
Yes, she smiled. Welcomingly. For bonus karma points, she said, “Welcome back. Have you had breakfast yet? I made French toast with crispy bacon and stewed apples, and there’s extra in the fridge. ” Gratitude was an attitude, after all.
Granddad was about to answer when Zane turned up, her first sight of him this morning. In rugby shorts and T-shirt, his bronzed skin showing scraped spots on an arm and a calf, and with bruising around one eye that had come out since last night. He said, “Sounds good to me.”
She got up out of her chair, thought again, Gratitude, and said, “I’ll heat it up for you, then.”
“Nah,” he said. “I’ll do it myself.” And fixed his grandmother with an … interesting sort of look, even as she came forward to kiss his cheek. “But I’ll have a chat with Nan while I do it. The kids are busy, eh. Perfect timing. Busy doing what?”
“In a couple of cases,” Skylar said, “I imagine they’re busy nursing their grudges against the two of us.” And smiled. Not the nanny.
Zane laughed. “Probably, yeh.” Granddad had taken the suitcases back to his and Maureen’s bedroom, possibly prudently, because there was something in Zane’s tone despite the laughter.
He said, “Let’s have that chat, Nan, but first …
Skylar, you and I could go for a walk in a bit, once I get outside of all that brekkie, and get a coffee.
You could even get a mimosa, since I know you like champagne.
Or we could take a bushwalk, even better.
The Mt. Kaukau Summit Track, maybe. Best views in Wellington. ”
She squinted at him and said, “‘Summit’ sounds decidedly ominous. Are you going to be running up this thing while I puff along humiliatingly, kilometers back?”
He laughed. “A bit of a puff, maybe, but not too bad. Five kilometers, that’s all, and you’re pretty fit.
A couple of hours, and it’ll give us something to look at while we have some time to ourselves.
I’m not interested in setting any land speed records today, but I am interested in working the soreness out of the legs and decompressing a bit.
With you, for preference. We could go for a late lunch and a glass of wine afterward.
” His eyes were so warm, not at all as if he were regretting anything about last night.
“Scarlett won’t be happy,” she said. Stalling, of course. “None of your kids will be all that happy, as I’m sure you’re meant to be spending time with them. Also, didn’t you run about fifteen kilometers just last night, and make about twenty tackles?”
“More like five kilometers and twelve tackles. And I’ll have a couple of hours with the kids once we get home, before I head back to the training center for a massage and dinner with the boys. I’ll be here all day Tuesday, too, ready to take them to … wherever.”
“Zealandia,” she said. “That’s the plan, if you want to join in.”
“Birds, eh. Well, I’ve looked at worse things. I selfishly hope you’re coming, too.”
“Yes, I am. As I’m not going to saddle you with all my kids as well as your own.”
“Oh?” The dark brows rose. “Even though you’ve been saddled with mine all week? And don’t say the thing about money again. The money isn’t the point.”
“Possibly easy to say,” she said, “when you have plenty of it.”
“True,” he said. “We’ll put it this way. If you’d like to see Zealandia, I’d like to take you. Relaxing, you could call it. Or boring, of course, but we’ll say ‘relaxing.’”
“Oh.” She knew she was turning red. “Well, yes, I would. I was planning to anyway, as … ah, as Granddad and Maureen weren’t as interested.”
“We went ourselves last week,” Maureen said, with utter composure.
“You did, eh.” Zane had that harder expression again.
“Yes,” she said. “Lovely spot, as always, and Geoffrey wanted to go.”
“Yeh,” Zane said. “About that. Let’s have that chat.”
She didn’t know what Zane said to his grandmother, or what she said in return.
She didn’t ask. None of her business—but that wasn’t true, was it?
It was her business that she’d mostly had the kids all this time, when that hadn’t been the plan.
No business she was comfortable asking him to rehash, was more like it.
But the bushwalk was spectacular. They walked through dense green areas of mossy trees and ferns, through grass-covered hills, up so many steep steps, where he walked behind her “so we can go at your pace. Also possibly so I can look at your lovely bum.” Said with a grin, which made her laugh and just … like him.
He didn’t light up the day with his wit and charm, the way …
well, the way she’d thought was exciting and romantic in her past life.
He didn’t exclaim over the 360-degree views from the summit over rugged hills, city, and harbor, spectacular as they were.
He was just there with her, solid and strong and steady, taking it all in—the melodious songs of tui and bellbird; the fluttering wings of the curious, fearless little fantail that darted around them, eager for the insects their feet stirred up; the wind at the summit that tried to tug her curls out of their knot; the kiss of the sun on their faces; the endless variegated blues of the sea.
It was peaceful, it was lovely, and they were sharing it.
And whenever the track allowed it, he held her hand.
That may have been the loveliest thing of all.
So, yes, that had been a good day. Zealandia, too, watching him let his kids point out the birds and tell him about them, and even more surprisingly, watching him let her kids do it.
That would mostly be Olive, who’d read every sign.
But the most touching thing of all was watching him with her little George.
George, who’d never had a dad, or even a stepdad.
Who looked at Zane with eyes both shy and worshipful, hung close to him, and asked for no attention at all.
But near the end of the day, after Zane had carried Georgia on his shoulders for a fair while, he swung her down and asked George, “Want a turn up here, bro? You can see more from up high, eh.”
“Yes, please,” George said, shyer than ever.
“Then here we go,” Zane said, and lifted him overhead like he weighed nothing.
George didn’t know what to do with his hands.
You could see it. His face was aglow with delight, but his hands hovered just above Zane’s head until Zane said, “Grab hold up there, bro. Can’t have you falling off the bucking bronco.
” And when George did it, and Zane pointed to a bird, asked George a question, gave him all that focus?
Well, she was a mum, that was all. And how could a mum resist?
She was teetering on the edge, was what it was. She knew she should take a step back. But oh, how she wanted to fall.
Oh, wait. Where was she? That’s right. Talking about going to Te Papa. Before they went and watched the All Blacks.
And Zane.
“We’re a bit grumpy, maybe, because it’s so windy right now,” Duncan was explaining, “so we can’t really swim. We could swim anyway, I guess, and then we’d be more cheerful.”
“The wind’s going to die down by tonight,” Scarlett said. “For the match.”
“I know,” Duncan said. “I was talking about swimming.”
Scarlett gave a sigh, and Skylar said, “Here we are, last day before we have to leave, so let’s wring the last bit out of our holiday.
We’ll do everybody’s favorite things at Te Papa, and then—” She put up a hand as Scarlett opened her mouth to object, “and then we’ll get a bite to eat at a café before we head over to the Cake Tin for the match.
In fact, let’s walk there. That’ll be a fun adventure.
” She was quite proud of herself for tossing off the stadium’s nickname so lightly, although that wasn’t exactly a PhD level of cultural literacy in New Zealand.
“Why would we walk,” Finlay said, “if we can drive?”
“Because walking will be much more fun,” Skylar said.
“So many other people will be walking, too. Like a parade. Like a celebration.” Also because she didn’t want to maneuver the enormous people-mover through the crowds of pedestrians and cars, or attempt to find the VIP parking area in the dark.
How much easier just to walk? She’d bet it would even be faster, especially getting out after the match.
“Go find Olive and George and Georgia,” she told Finlay, “and tell them to get ready, please. Everybody use the toilet first, also. We’ll meet back here in fifteen minutes. ”
She heard Scarlett say to Finlay, on their way out, “Your mum’s really bossy.” Finlay, for once, didn’t get into a barney about it, but answered, “Well, so’s your dad. He’s bossy and scary. At least Mum’s just bossy.”
She’d take that. She guessed.