Chapter Twenty-One
Clara
The bowling alley in Perth buzzed with the sound of crashing pins and excited chatter as Clara entered her name onto the electronic scoring screen.
Kaleb and Jacob were already selecting balls and pretending they were going to drop the heaviest one on each other’s feet.
Sam stood behind them, watching with his hands in his back pockets. ‘Are you two ready?’
‘Yeah.’ Kaleb lifted a ball and made a practice swing that also seemed to involve shaking his head so that his long curly fringe swung out of his eyes.
‘Then let’s get the ball rolling.’ Sam rubbed his hands together.
Jacob and Kaleb groaned.
‘Do not start with the dad jokes.’ Kaleb pulled a face.
‘You love it.’ Sam gave him a little nudge.
‘You wish.’ Kaleb turned to Clara. ‘Does he do this to you too, or is it just us?’
‘Oh, definitely to me too… and everyone.’ Clara smiled at him, then shot Sam a teasing look.
He grinned back at her. Even in this neon lit hall, his blue eyes glinted like jewels.
She’d only known Kaleb and Jacob for about half an hour, but already she felt at ease with them – very like the way she’d felt when she first met Sam.
They may not look like him with their darker hair and brown eyes, but their warm personalities had clearly been shaped by him.
‘Yeah,’ Jacob piped up, still choosing which ball he liked best. ‘But Kaleb does it himself. His jokes are so cringe.’
‘Seriously, bro.’ Kaleb narrowed his eyes at his younger brother.
‘Why did the bowler bring a ladder to the game?’ Sam said, leaning on Kaleb’s shoulder.
Kaleb groaned, covering his face with his long, thin fingers. ‘No, no—’
‘To reach the high scores.’ Sam held out his hands. ‘They’re not going to get any better.’
Clara snorted despite herself. ‘Ok, that’s terrible.’
‘What?’ Sam winked at her. ‘I’m misunderstood by my own people. The kids at school love them.’
‘Bet they don’t,’ Kaleb mumbled to Clara, raising an eyebrow so it disappeared into his hair.
‘Oh, I don’t know.’ Clara lifted a bowling ball. ‘He’s very popular.’
‘Thanks.’ Sam moved up beside her to choose a ball.
‘You’re up first.’ Jacob tapped her on the arm, grinning broadly. Freckles covered his nose and cheeks, which had cute little dimples. His hair was a similar sandy brown to his brother, but cut shorter.
‘Me? Am I? Eek.’ Clara lined up her shot, ignoring the commentary from the boys behind her. She wasn’t bad at bowling, but it had to be about ten years since she’d done it. The ball rolled straight for the gutter before she even had a chance to hope.
‘Uh-oh,’ Kaleb said dramatically. ‘Gutterball on the first go? That’s harsh.’
‘You jinxed me.’ Clara turned back to him and raised an eyebrow.
‘Me?’ Kaleb feigned innocence. ‘Wouldn’t dream of it.’
Jacob was up next, swinging his arm back and forward. He bowled a slow, wobbly shot that somehow knocked down six pins.
‘Yes!’ He fist-pumped, turning to Kaleb. ‘Beat that.’
‘Easy.’ Kaleb grabbed his ball with exaggerated confidence, rubbing it in his hands as he sized up his shot.
Sam shook his head at Clara. ‘This could get very competitive.’
‘And are you the worst for that, by any chance?’
‘Probably.’ He glanced at his feet with a caught-out smile.
‘Clara,’ Kaleb said as they waited for their turn, ‘do you know why bowling is Dad’s favourite sport?’
‘I’m afraid to ask.’ Clara raised an eyebrow at Sam.
Kaleb smirked. ‘Because it’s right up his alley.’
‘That’s my joke!’ Sam put his hands on his hips.
‘You’re rubbing off on me.’ Kaleb nudged him.
‘It’s a slippery slope.’ Clara gave him a commiserating look. ‘Next thing you know, you’ll be wearing his clothes.’
‘I already am.’ Kaleb pulled up his trouser leg at the ankle. ‘These are his socks. I couldn’t find any of mine.’
Sam took his turn, looking annoyingly good as he hammered the ball dead centre. Clara was determined to make her next one count. No way was he beating her that easily. She launched her next ball with full strength, taking out all but one pin on the first go.
‘Not bad.’ Sam rubbed his hands together and nodded.
‘Girl’s got the range,’ she whispered to Sam after hitting the loose pin on her second go, remembering what they’d been doing the last time he’d said that to her.
He flicked her the briefest wink. ‘Not half.’
The game carried on, filled with more bad jokes, lots of laughs, and the occasional strike that earned over-the-top celebrations. By the end, Clara couldn’t remember the last time she’d laughed so much in one afternoon.
‘You’ve actually done pretty well for someone who hasn’t bowled for ten years.’ Sam eyed the scoreboard.
‘I couldn’t have the boys running away with all the spoils. Especially you.’ She prodded him.
‘I’m used to losing.’ He threw her a look.
‘You lose on purpose, don’t you?’
He gave a little shrug. ‘It’s good for their confidence.’
Clara glanced up at him. He was watching the boys with an expression she couldn’t quite read. When he turned to her, he smiled, and warmth settled deep in her chest, along with that deep-rooted sense of being completely and utterly safe.
‘Shall we head out for some lunch?’ he said. ‘I’ve got tennis rackets in the back of the car. We could knock a ball about after.’
‘Haven’t we bashed enough balls this morning?’ Kaleb made an over-exaggerated wincing movement.
Sam rolled his eyes. ‘Sorry,’ he said to Clara. ‘This is hashtag life-with-boys, I’m afraid.’
‘But you are one, Dad.’ Jacob gave him a look, his little nose scrunched up in a very cute way.
‘I think I graduated from boy to man some time ago.’
‘Or he likes to think so,’ Kaleb added.
‘Oh, ha-ha.’ Sam threw him an unimpressed look.
‘You lot are hilarious.’ Clara clapped Sam on the back as they headed out into the sunshine.
‘Aren’t we just?’
Near the bowling alley was a small park, and it had a good wide open grassy space for a picnic. Sam tossed the tartan blanket out and let it float down. They all sat on it, and Sam unpacked the picnic bag.
‘Ok, I made some sandwiches, and we’ve got raspberries, strawberries, and drinks.’ He placed some containers on the blanket as he spoke. ‘No dates,’ he said aside to Clara, ‘fake or otherwise.’
‘What did you say was fake?’ Kaleb asked.
‘Um… Just wondering what you call a fake noodle.’
‘Eh? What do you call a fake noodle?’ Kaleb pulled a face like he didn’t have a clue what Sam was on about, and Clara wasn’t sure either.
‘An impasta!’ Sam winked at him, and Jacob giggled.
Clara found herself chuckling too despite the groan-worthy pun.
‘Ugh.’ Kaleb threw back his head dramatically, so that his hair fell back like a mop head. ‘That is so cringe.’
Sam was still smiling as he handed around the box of sandwiches. ‘Sorry, these aren’t as nice as the ones we got at Winterbury Abbey. I’m afraid my sandwich making skills aren’t up to much.’
‘They look fine to me.’ Clara caught his eye, and her heart gave a funny little wobble. He looked fine too. Very fine indeed.
‘Do you do a lot of sports?’ Clara asked the boys.
‘I don’t.’ Jacob munched a sandwich. ‘But I like riding my bike.’
‘I do some sports,’ Kaleb said. ‘Like I scored a totally epic goal at my last football practice.’
Sam ruffled Kaleb’s hair. ‘That’s my boy.’
‘Dad. You nutter. I’m thirteen, not three.’
Sam laughed. ‘Fooled us all.’
Jacob jumped and let out a cry as juice squirted down his bright orange anime t-shirt.
‘Don’t worry. It’ll dry soon enough. It’s a hot day. Flap it about a bit.’ Sam reached over and moved the upturned juice carton.
When the boys finished eating, they ran off to grab the tennis rackets.
‘Jacob gets a bit panicky if he makes a mess. His mum likes them to keep their clothes clean, which is completely impossible. She’s a bit OCD.’
Clara watched him for a moment as he packed away the empty containers. Why hadn’t he and his ex had more children? Maybe they hadn’t wanted to. Or was it possible that, like her, he couldn’t?
The thought sent a pang through her chest, and she wanted to reach out and hug him, but perhaps that wasn’t something he’d want in front of the boys. But she knew all too well the ache of wanting something that was out of reach.
‘Are you ok?’ Sam’s voice broke through her reverie.
She smiled and gave him a little pat on the arm. ‘Yeah, fine. Just happy being here with you all. They’re good kids.’
‘Yeah, they are.’ Sam looked over at them as they returned from the car with the racquets.
‘Do they ever see the… the biological dad?’
‘Nope.’ Sam shook his head. ‘They know he exists, but he’s never even seen Jacob. He wasn’t interested in staying in touch with them, and Olive was happy to get rid of him, though she could have forced him to pay. But she didn’t want anything else to do with him.’
‘I see.’
The boys bounded over, tennis rackets in hand and a canister of neon yellow balls tucked under Kaleb’s arm.
‘Right, let’s see what you’ve got.’ Sam pushed himself up from the blanket, brushing grass from his jeans. ‘Adults versus kids?’
‘You’re going down, old man.’ Kaleb twirled his racket with a flourish.
‘This old man’s still got it.’ Sam flexed a bicep.
How right was he? Clara watched him with hungry eyes. He was buff and looked jacked next to the two scrawny teenagers.
She accepted his offered hand as she stood. ‘I haven’t played tennis in ages either,’ she admitted. ‘Go easy on me, or I’ll be the one going down.’
‘Together, we’ll ace it.’
‘Was that a pun too?’ She raised an eyebrow.
‘Actually, no. But it appears I do it without thinking these days.’
They made their way further onto the grass and took their positions. Clara’s eyes were heavily distracted by Sam. Those forearms were so hot. He twirled his racket like a pro, glancing over and smiling at her.
‘This’ll be a cinch.’ He winked.
‘Aren’t you going to give them a chance this time?’
‘I’m joking. We’re just playing for fun. No scoring.’