Chapter Twenty-One
Joel
Zoe’s quiet on the plane on the way back to Wellington.
I’m not surprised. After she revealed that she told Charlemagne her big secret—and that the idiot dumped her afterward—it all began to make sense. She’s convinced I’m not going to want her when she tells me because that’s what history has shown her, never mind that I like to think I’m ten times the man he was.
But there’s no point in browbeating her to tell me. She has to believe that I won’t abandon her first.
I need to give her time, and I know as well that she wants to see her family, so I leave her to her thoughts and spend the flight writing up my notes about the excavation. I’m disappointed that we weren’t able to find the Mair Necklace for her, but we both knew it was a long shot. We still recovered some terrific items from there, including the spectacles she found. I make sketches of them in Procreate and add the drawings to the file, ready to print out when I get back.
Before long, we’re landing at Wellington. We make our way out of the airport and head toward the taxi rank.
Then we stop, and I pull her into my arms for a hug.
“Good luck with your family,” I say to her. “I’m going to suggest you fly down to Christchurch on Sunday morning, say, ten a.m.? I’ll organize the flight for you. But I’ll confirm it with you tomorrow, obviously.”
She nods. “Okay.”
I kiss the top of her head. Then I move back a little, take her face in my hands, and kiss her properly. “Thank you for the last few days,” I say softly. “It’s been a rollercoaster, but I have enjoyed our time together.”
Her lips curve up a little. “So have I, I swear.”
I hesitate. I have the horrible feeling she’s slipping away from me. And as determined as I am to make this work, I can’t force her to be with me. “It was fun, wasn’t it?”
“It was, if somewhat terrifying.”
“But sunlight is always brighter when it’s contrasted with shadow, right?”
She gives a short laugh, recognizing her own words. “Yeah.”
My gaze caresses her face as I stroke her cheeks with my thumbs. It’s a beautiful, blustery day here in Wellington, and her hair dances around her face. She’s so fucking beautiful. I don’t want to let her go.
“I want to be with you,” I murmur. “I want to get to know you properly, Zoe. I want to take you out for dinner, and to the cinema, and to the theater, and take you back to my place afterward and make love to you all night. I want to sleep next to you and wake up next to you. What we shared—beneath the ocean, and in the storm—it’s no small thing. So tell me you’ll think about it. Please.”
“I will,” she says. “I promise.”
“All right.” Reluctantly, I release her. “I’ll speak to you tomorrow.”
“Okay. See you soon.” Pulling her case, she heads off to the nearest taxi.
Sighing, I go to the one behind her, put my case in the back, and get in. Her taxi heads off into the traffic, and mine joins it before eventually heading in the opposite direction toward the flat that I share with Fraser when I’m in Wellington.
It’s over in the suburb of Brooklyn, high on the hills surrounding the city. The taxi drops me off outside, and I go down the steps and let myself in.
The place is large for Wellington. A big living room leads onto an impressive deck with a terrific view across the city to the harbor beyond. There’s a substantial kitchen and a dining room that doubles as an office for both of us, three good-sized bedrooms, and two bathrooms, which helped when Elora lived with us.
Fraser is at work, so I’m not surprised to find the apartment empty. I drop my bags in the doorway and walk through to the kitchen, open the fridge, and help myself to a bottle of water. I unscrew the lid and have a couple of mouthfuls.
Then I stop and lower the bottle, and stare at the bar stool tucked under the breakfast bar. Hanging over the back of it is a navy-blue jacket.
I put down the bottle and pick the item up. It’s not Fraser’s. Clearly, it’s a women’s jacket. I’ve never seen Elora in it, but I’m pretty sure it looks like the one Hallie was wearing last time I saw her.
My lips curve up, and I replace the jacket on the stool. Did she come over as a friend? Was it a one-night stand? Or something more? There’s no point in asking him; he’s a private guy, even with me, and he’d never admit how he felt about her.
I pick up the bottle of water, go over to the sliding doors and open them, and walk out onto the deck.
I’m away so often that it hasn’t made sense to rent an apartment of my own before. I spend all my time traveling around the North Island from office to office and excavation to excavation, and I’m only in Wellington maybe one week in ten or twelve. Sharing worked well when Elora was with us as Fraser and I could both keep an eye on her. But I guess deep down we both knew the situation would change eventually.
He’s had a few girlfriends over the years, including a semi long term one called Ginger over a year ago, but he spent most of his time at her place, and never talked about her moving in with him. It’s going to happen, though, whether it ends up being Hallie or someone else.
If I get the Director of Operations gig, I’ll be spending more time in Wellington anyway, and if this thing with Zoe works out, maybe it’s time for me to start putting down roots. Get my own place. Settle down. That’s what my dad keeps telling me, anyway.
I close my eyes as the breeze blows over me. My stomach flips at the sensation of change in the air. Am I ready for it? I love my current job. I like the traveling, the diving, the excavations. It’s what I’m good at. I get twitchy when I’m behind a desk. But everyone has to grow up at some point, right? And I don’t want to start dating Zoe and then be away from her for eleven weeks out of twelve.
I sigh and lean on the barrier. Nothing’s ever easy. We all have to make sacrifices, and I’m prepared to do that, to get the woman I love.
*
I keep busy for the rest of the day. I have chores to do like washing my clothes and getting some food in from the supermarket, and then I spend the rest of the afternoon working on the excavation notes. Soon, I need to start work on preparing for my interview on Monday. But for now I concentrate on my current job, catching up on the stuff I’ve missed while I’ve been away.
Fraser comes home around six thirty. I’m sitting at the dining room table, surrounded by my laptop and papers, and I hear the front door open and close, then his keys land on the breakfast bar.
I rise and say, “Hey,” as he comes into the dining room.
He walks up to me, and we exchange a big bearhug. “Good to see you,” he says. “You know, not in a coffin.”
I laugh. “Thanks. It was touch and go there for a while.”
“Want a beer?”
“Yeah, go on then.” I follow him out to the kitchen. He retrieves two beers from the fridge, cracks them open, and offers me one.
“How’s Zoe?” he asks, leaning against the breakfast bar.
I draw up a stool. “She’s okay. It’s been a rollercoaster week for her.” I tell him about her regulator malfunctioning, and then explain a little about our adventure on the boat.
“She’s really been through it,” he says. “And so have you.”
“Yeah, there have been a few scares, I have to admit.”
“Are you seeing her again?” he asks.
“I’m working on it.” I hesitate. We’re guys, so we don’t tend to talk much about deep and meaningful things, and Fraser especially isn’t particularly forthcoming about his emotions or his love life. But equally, Elora’s experience brought us all closer together. I know he’d never reveal anything I told him. So I say, “In the midst of the storm, she confided in me that she’s unable to have kids.”
His eyebrows rise a fraction. “Oh?”
“She got pregnant when she was young, had a uterine rupture, and had to have a hysterectomy.”
“Jesus.”
“Yeah. There’s other stuff surrounding it that I haven’t quite figured out yet. But obviously she can’t have kids, and she’s not keen on adopting either.”
His calm gaze assesses me. “Do you want kids?”
“I was thinking about it earlier today. I don’t think I’m that bothered if I don’t have them.”
I suppose I was interested in his reaction, to see whether he would admonish me that it was a ridiculous conclusion, and that I’d regret it eventually. But he just says, “Yeah, I get that.”
“You don’t think I’m being crazy if I give up the chance of having a family?”
“I think society declares that’s the only path to happiness, and insinuates there’s something wrong with you if you don’t want to walk that road. There are a hundred reasons why a couple choose not to have children, and they’re all valid.” He cocks his head at me. “Are you thinking about what Dad would say?”
I study my beer bottle. I can hear Dad now, quoting Psalm 127:3: “Children are a gift from the Lord; they are a reward from him.” He believes that after God, family—and especially children—are the most important thing in the world, the reason for existence, if you will. It’s why he dedicated his life to helping young people. So he would never understand a man making the choice to give up a chance to have a family. He would laugh if I said it was because I loved Zoe more than I loved the idea of having children. He would tell me to pull on my big girl pants, grow up, and go out and find a wife who could give me the five kids I deserve.
Yeah, sometimes he’s incredibly Old Testament.
“Fuck him,” Fraser says.
My eyebrows rise. It’s very unusual for my brother to say anything against our father. I rarely do either, for that matter. Respect for our parents was drilled into us at an early age, and rebellion against authority has never been something either of us is comfortable with.
“Wow,” I say.
“You’re twenty-eight,” Fraser states. “And I’m thirty. Even Elora’s twenty-four now. Don’t you think it’s time we all started making our choices about what we want to do with our lives?” His voice holds an uncharacteristic touch of bitterness.
“Are you talking about Elora and Linc?”
“Partly. If they want to have a fling while they’re away, why shouldn’t they? She’s old enough now to make that decision, and to understand that he’s flying out on Monday. She’s not stupid; I don’t think she’s expecting to drive off into the sunset with him.”
“Who are you and what have you done with my brother?”
He gives me a wry look. “Let’s just say my perspective has changed recently.”
“Oh yes…” I turn around and gesture at the jacket hanging over the back of my stool. “While the cat’s been away… what has the mouse been up to?”
“Discovering a very tasty piece of Camembert,” he says.
I laugh. “I’m guessing Hallie’s over Ian, then?”
“Let’s just say I’ve done my best to distract her from her breakup.”
I smile, knowing him better than to believe his flippancy. “Is it serious?”
“I’m working on it.”
He’s echoing my own words, and I chuckle.
“Seriously, though,” he says, “I didn’t know that you thought Dad blamed you for what happened to Elora. It’s unfair for him to lay any of the blame at your feet, and it’s wrong for you to believe him.”
I sigh. “I hate how we can make decisions when we’re young that resonate like a bell through the rest of our lives.”
“It makes me angry that, of all people, Dad is so critical of others and judges them so harshly. What does Luke say? ‘Do not judge, and you will not be judged. Do not condemn, and you will not be condemned. Forgive, and you will be forgiven’? He conveniently forgets the quotes that don’t suit him at the time.”
A summer breeze blows in through the open sliding doors, bringing with it the scent of the jasmine that grows near the steps. Once again, I feel the sensation of change in the air. Fraser, Elora, and I have lived under our father’s shadow for far too long. Elora has suffered most, I think, stifled by his care and concern; I’ve struggled with wanting acceptance and approval that’s never going to come; and Fraser… maybe Fraser’s suffered more than I realized from being the eldest. I’ve always thought of him as the golden boy, the one who could do no wrong. But his bitterness when he mentioned making our own choices surprised me.
“I’ll cook dinner tonight,” he says. “Fancy a steak?”
“Yeah.”
“I’ve got a couple of sirloins in the fridge. I might start it soon—I’m starving.”
We eat dinner together on the deck, talking about the Relentless and the excavation, and about Fraser’s plans for the Museum going forward. Afterward, he puts a Miles Davis album on the record player, and I work in the dining room while he reads in the living room for a few hours.
When we’re done, we pour ourselves a whiskey each and decide to watch a movie, choosing Master and Commander , even though we’ve watched it a dozen times already.
It’s close to midnight, and we’re nearing the end of the movie when my phone buzzes with a text. I pick it up, my heart lifting at the thought that it might be Zoe, as I haven’t heard from her all day. But it’s not from her.
“I’ve got a text from Linc,” I say.
Fraser pauses the movie. “Oh?”
“It says, ‘Don’t suppose you’ve got time for a chat?’” I text back, Yeah, sure, everything all right? and read it out to Fraser as I send it.
Linc: Yeah, we’re fine. Is Fraser with you?
Me: Yes .
Linc: Okay, good.
A few seconds later, my phone rings, and I answer it.
“Hey,” I say. “You’re on speakerphone, and Fraser’s here.”
“Hey, Fraser,” Linc says.
“Hi,” Fraser replies. “How are you doing?”
“Yeah, good. We’re staying the night in Milford Sound.”
“You’ve finished the cruise?” I ask.
“Yes, all done. It was cool. You’d have liked the archaeology conference. Lots of great people there. And it’s been good to see New Zealand again. It’s put on a great face for us.”
“Did you catch up with your sister in Dunedin?” I ask. Linc has recently discovered that the man he thought was his dad wasn’t in fact his birth father, as his mother had an affair with a man named Edmund. Linc and Elora met Edmund and one of his daughters—Linc’s half-sister—in Queenstown, and Edmund pointed out that his other daughter lived in Dunedin.
“Yes, Claire. It went really well. Odd though, to discover you have a whole family you didn’t know about.”
“True,” Fraser says. “How’s Elora?”
“She’s good.” The smile in his voice is evident. “She’s asleep at the moment. She’s the reason I’m calling. Look… I know it’s short notice, but I was wondering whether the two of you might be able to fly down to Hanmer Springs tomorrow.”
Fraser and I exchange glances. “I was planning to come down anyway,” I reply. “Have you got anything on?” I ask my brother.
He hesitates, and I realize he might have something planned with Hallie, but he says, “Nothing I can’t move. Why, what’s going on?”
“We fly up to Christchurch tomorrow,” Linc says. “And I was thinking of hiring a car and driving up to Greenfield.”
“For what purpose?” Fraser asks.
“To see your parents. I know Clemmie’s been unwell, and I’d love to see her again. And I’d like to see Atticus as well.”
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” Fraser says cautiously. “He hasn’t changed his opinion of you.”
“I know. But I have something important I need to ask him.”
Fraser’s eyes meet mine, and our eyebrows slowly rise.
“No…” Fraser says somewhat comically, drawing out the word.
I give a short laugh. “You’re kidding me?”
“You’ve only been here a week,” Fraser says. “Any chance you’re being a tad hasty?”
“Guys,” Linc says, “There’s something you should know. Back when we were at Greenfield… I was planning to propose to Elora when she turned sixteen.”
My jaw drops, and so does Fraser’s.
“That was always the plan,” Linc continues. “My intentions were always honorable. I loved her. And all these years… she’s always been the only girl for me. I realize that now. When I saw her at the museum, it was as if we’d never been apart. I’m obsessed with her. I want to marry her.”
“Jesus,” I say. “Wow.”
“I’m going to ask Atticus’s permission,” Linc continues. “I don’t need it, not really, not in this day and age. And I don’t expect to get it. But I’m going to ask.” He speaks with his usual bravado, but then he says, “I could do with some moral support, though.”
Fraser’s lips curve up. “Sure. We’ll fly down in the morning.”
“Really?” Linc sounds surprised, as if he didn’t expect us to agree. “I know you’re not my biggest fan.”
“I thought you were going to go back to the UK on Monday and break her heart,” Fraser says. “I didn’t realize you were interested in making an honest woman out of her.”
“Christ,” I say, “why do you always sound as if you’ve stepped out of the eighteenth century?”
Linc laughs. “Well, I am. So I can count on you two tomorrow?”
“For what it’s worth,” I say. “Obviously you know us being there isn’t going to change Dad’s mind?”
“Yeah. But if all goes well, it’d be nice if you were there when I proposed. I think she’d like that.”
Secretly, I’m impressed at his courage. It wouldn’t surprise me if Dad chased him off the grounds with a shotgun. The fact that he’s even bothering to ask for Dad’s permission has to count for something, surely? I don’t know if Dad will see it that way, though.
But he knows the risks, and there’s no point in being purposefully negative. Linc has always had the gift of the gab, and there is a chance, I guess, that he’ll be able to convince Dad that his feelings for Elora are real.
“All right,” Linc says, “well I’d better get some sleep. I’ll see you guys tomorrow, then?”
“Yeah, safe journey,” Fraser says, and I end the call.
The two of us sit and stare at each other, then start laughing.
“Jesus,” he says, “can you believe it?”
“I didn’t expect that,” I admit. I give him an appraising look. “I didn’t think you’d be so forgiving.”
“Love has a way of making you look at things differently,” he admits.
“Love?” My lips curve up.
“Fuck off.” He presses play on the remote, and I chuckle.
We finish the movie, then both walk out onto the deck to finish off our whiskeys.
“I’m pleased for Elora,” I admit as we look up at the waxing moon.
Fraser sips his drink. “You realize if Dad refuses to give his permission, it’s going to make it a much harder decision for her to agree to marry Linc?”
I nod slowly. Dad might refuse to allow Linc to visit Greenfield. What would Elora do then? Presumably she’d have to visit our parents alone, which would mean her visits would be a lot less frequent.
“I didn’t think to ask,” I say, “do you think he means to move back to New Zealand? Or is he hoping she’ll go with him to the UK?”
Fraser thinks about it. “I don’t know,” he says eventually. “That’ll be tough on her and us.”
“It might do her good, though. Let her stretch her legs a bit.”
He doesn’t reply. He finishes off his drink, then says, “All right, see you in the morning. You’ve already booked a flight, right?”
“Yeah, ten a.m.”
“Okay. ’Night.”
“’Night.”
He goes inside and heads off to his room.
I sit in one of the chairs, though, sipping the rest of my drink. Linc’s courage has impressed me. His decision to propose is fraught with problems, but he’s going to do it anyway.
Inhaling the scent of the jasmine, I continue to sit there as the moon rises slowly in the sky, painting all the bushes and trees with silver.