TERRY

Uma.  Pregnant.  Even just the possibility of it was enough to knock me off my stride.  Not that I'd exactly been tripping along with any sort of grace after the bombshell my son had dropped at lunch today.  And as if that wasn't enough.... Christ.  Uma.  Pregnant... 

Shifting to fifth gear, I sped along even faster, wishing away the fine German engineering in favor of one that would give a more satisfactory roar when I put my foot down.  The gray of the buildings became a monotonous blur; like the silence... a neutral backdrop to my swirling thoughts that were anything but neutral. 

I felt like doing something physical.  Get pissed.  Pick a fight so I could burn away this frustration by taking a swing at some unlucky tosspot in a backwater pub.  Thankfully, I'm a bit more mature than that these days.  Most of the time, anyway.  I sent that swath of unfocused energy inward instead.  It blew through the little compartments inside me where I keep my feelings neatly locked away.  Anger.  Frustration.  Irritation.  Fear.  Pride.  Confusion.  Indecision.

It was a jumble of contrasting feelings that were all the more sharp for my little talk with Henry.  I had foolishly thought I was mature enough to be well past finding myself in his position.  I should have known better than to tempt fate.  Suddenly running away and living the hippy existence didn't seem like such a bad option. 

I can't say it's all bad.  I'd be lying if I said I hadn't experienced a flare of.... something... that felt remarkably like pride at the thought of Uma's slender body again carrying the weight of my child.  Of course, the sickening sense of impending horror as the reality of what she was telling me sunk in pushed out any sense of misplaced pride in my own virility.  Add to that volatile cocktail a healthy dose of worry about Uma's health (emotional and otherwise), and concern over how Maia would have to adjust... and then there was what this would mean for our lives... the changes....

On the other hand, I wasn't sure how to weigh all of that against the possible emotional ramifications of what the other decision might do to us.  I am not sure Uma is strong enough to survive another abortion.  Her heart is too tender.  I'm not sure I could stand by and let some faceless man in scrubs kill a life we made together.  I'm also not sure what we've built together could stand the stress of another child.  Not with our history.  Not with my job. 

I sunk deeper and deeper into my head.  Pity I had to slow the car down.  Damned London traffic.  It gave me something to do while I did some heavy thinking, though.  I hate feeling like this; being at odds with her.  She is my little girl.  They both are.  And I am utterly lost without them.  It's a particularly painful sort of agony to have such a row with the one person who can make me feel safe when the world is falling down around my ears.  I wanted to crawl up and hide inside her.  I also wanted to wring her bloody neck. 

The real thing?  

It doesn't get any more real than this, mate.    

I'm not sure how long I drove.  Not even sure I knew where I was going.  I just needed time to think.  I can't even really say when I started noticing the world outside the car again.  So much for Captain Fantastic, hey?  I'm lucky I didn't drive straight into a pit somewhere.  Where the bloody hell was I, anyway?  I looked about to get my bearings.  That's when I saw it.  Her.  Or rather when I saw a woman make a sensual gesture with her hand in a certain way that just struck something inside me.  Resonated.  A memory.  A pleasant memory.  Heather?

I looked closer.  It was her.  What the devil was she doing here?  I attempted to shake the erotic memory away - there was no place for that sort of thinking anymore, nor any desire for it - only to realize she was staring into a jeweller's case.  At a string of pearls.  I had little doubt of what was in her mind.  It was the same as in my own.  She stroked her neck with a fingertip.  The familiar gesture called up a rush of vivid erotic memories I'd long forgotten.   

I pulled over.  Took a few prana breaths whilst rubbing at my eyebrow.  Bit awkward this, but I couldn't very well drive past, now could I?  I shoved open the door.  She was still touching her neck with a dreamy faraway expression.  I pulled a face.  And loosened my tie.  Called her name.  No response.  Most of me was glad.  I ignored the small stick of masculine satisfaction.  Regardless of his current situation, conformation a man has left such a memorable mark on a past lover is never wholly unwelcome.  And to be perfectly candid, it was a pleasant bolster to my low spirits.  I called her name again.

This time she turned her head.  For a brief moment, I saw our shared memory there in her eyes.  She flushed pink and dropped her hand.  I shuffled about, more than a bit off my game already and the warmth of that memory certainly didn't help matters... but when have you ever known me to resist a woman in need?  I wonder what that says about me? 

"Give you a lift, love?"  

I thought for a moment she might resist.  I think she wanted to.  Knowing what I now know, I bloody wish she had.  

"Terry!"  She seemed embarrassed by the initial welcome in her voice.  Her next words were softer.  More measured.  "What are you doing here?"

I felt like saying 'running away, wanna come?'  Call me a chauvinist if you will.  Even my hippy utopia has women.  I reckon all the versions in my mind do.  Like I'd ever be happy looking after myself now that Uma has spoiled me?  Not sure how I ever managed by myself for so long.

I shrugged off her question.  We had a bit of a chat there on the sidewalk, my car door dinging away annoyingly in the background whilst I said hello to 'Stan the Man and determined that they were in fact on their way home and in need of transportation. "Hey... jump in... let me help you with the stroller... just shove him in the baby seat."

She still resisted a bit.  

"Is there a secret to this or should I just use brute force?"

"Still bouncing back and forth between the White Knight and the Black one, I see."  More like an applesauce smeared knight these days.  She looked into my back seat and smiled.  She seemed a bit surprised to find the baby seat back there.  "A baby seat?  In this car?" 

"What's so funny?  Some smooth operator with a telltale baby seat?  I'm undercover... great disguise..."

She lifted an eyebrow.  "You don't fool me."

While she tucked Tristan into the seat I wrestled the stroller into the boot.  A few moment later we were off.  "Home, Cinders?"

"That would be so nice.  Thank you."  I wonder why she had a flicker of a grimace on her face just then?  Am I such bad company?  Or was it something else?

She gave me one of her searching looks.  "What are you doing here?  Really?"

"Me?  Just driving."  I shrugged off her attempts to worm her way under my walls.  It wasn't hard.  Apparently I seemed to have lost whatever unexplainable spark I once had that made it strangely easy to speak openly with her about my private self.       

Her brow furrowed.  "Driving?  Coming or going?"  She gave me a look.  "Or some of both?"  I suppose just because I wasn't willing to be as forthcoming didn't mean she couldn't read me at least a little. 

"Something like that.  Where you been?  Shopping?"  I rolled my eyes.  "I do not know what the attraction is..."

There was a ghost of a wry smile clinging to her lips.  "No.  Playing in the park with Tristan."  She smiled then, widely.  She looked tired.  Or maybe it was just the fading light?

"A much more pleasant way to spend an afternoon."  At least I thought so.  I don't know too many men who would disagree with me there.  My banal comments sounded strange to my ear.  There was an awkwardness between us that there really hadn't even been before... not even back in-  No, Terry.  Do not go there. 

"Lucky for you a day in the park has worn him out.  We might even get a few moments of quiet...."  She was right.  I looked in the rear view mirror.  He looked like a beautiful little cherub; round pink cheeks, floppy curls, red lips in a little pout as he slept. 

It made me smile despite the maelstrom of emotions swirling around inside me.  "How is my little mate anyway?"  Her smile softened, became more maternal in away that resonated deeply with me.  I liked seeing it there.  I have always been drawn to that particular softness, even in my salad days when a child was the very last thing I wanted from a woman. 

"Tris?  He had the best time.  Got dirty....tried to drown himself... eat rocks... bugs...."

"What every boy likes best."  Good onya, mate.

"And I am not sure but he might have swallowed a spider..."  She wrinkled her nose.

I grimaced.  "Well, don't let him throw up on me then."  The only thing worse than live spiders was a regurgitated one. 

She laughed at my teasing.  "He couldn't be happier..." her face became thoughtful.  "It sure doesn't take much, does it?"  

"No.  Lucky bugger."

And with that, our stilted conversation came to an end.  The resulting lull was tense and awkward.  I didn't like it.  All of us hadn't really seen much of each other since we came to this place, but surely I'd have noticed something like this?  I suddenly realized I'd never really been alone with her.  I searched my memory.  We hadn't been alone since... Scotland.  I shut that memory down straight away.  She stared out the window.  I drove on in silence. 

"You'll have to point me from here... not familiar with this area."  I'd only been to their flat once, long ago.  Had it really been almost a year already?  She gave me a few directions and fell silent again.

More awkward quiet.  This time it was her who broke it.  

"It's good to see you."  She did not look away from the window.

"Yeah... good to see you too.  Been awhile."

She turned her head and looked at me then in a way that she hadn't in a long time.  Not sexually.  In this way that reminded me she'd once been good at reading me.  Better than I would have liked, anyway.  "You look good..... harassed a bit... but still good."  Her eyes were warm and some of the awkwardness melted away.  "Tough client?"

"You could say that."  The toughest, actually.  I clammed up again.  She fell silent again too, almost seeming to shrink in her seat a bit as we got closer to her flat.  Which was a pretty good trick, I have to say.  She was smaller than I remembered.  Less.... bright somehow.  Like a dull penny.  I wondered if it was because people tend to remember things a bit more rosily than they actually had been, or if there was something else here that I was missing. 

I frowned as I pulled up to her flat.  I'd forgotten how dodgy the place was.  Or maybe I just hadn't taken proper notice as busy as I was settling my own family in at the time.  It made me feel guilty.  And that made me feel annoyed.  It wasn't my job to be responsible for her... it was Curry's.  Pity that fact did fuck all to explain the current feelings running round my chest. 

She'd been my lover once.  Nothing anyone could do would ever erase that.  I'm not sure I wanted it to.  But that was old news, water that had long passed under that old bridge.  She wasn't my lover anymore... she was simply a dear friend.  Surely there is no harm in helping out an old friend, now is there....?

HEATHER

We sat at the curb a moment.  Lachlan wasn't home.  I hadn't expected him to be.  Dread felt like a stone in my stomach.  Shame was a worse ache than even the sharpest hunger.  I did not want Terry to come inside.  I did not want him to see how we lived.  My mind whirled, frantically desperate to find some way to keep him from coming in.  Maybe I'd get lucky and he'd just let me off at the door?  I tried to make an excuse and jump out.  He was having none of it.

"Here we are, love.  Let me help you up...."  

I handed Tristan out to him instead on the off chance I could just take Tris from Terry's arms and we could leave it at that.  "Here you go."  I passed over Tristan's body.  He was so heavy when he was dead weight... but even heavier when he started squirming.  Tristan knew in an instant it wasn't his father holding him and pushed at Terry's chest with his arms, his little lip quivering. 

"Bloody hell... he's a lump... solid as a rock."

"He's a Curry alright."  

Terry smiled but I did not miss his shrewd look around.  Crap.  "He'd make two of Maia."

"He would.  She's so gorgeous and delicate."

"Yeah?  You think I'm the father?"  Bit of a rueful comment in the current climate, don't you think?  It brought us both up short.  

My eyes darted to his.  I felt a blush rise.  He looked away.  But then it suddenly seemed funny in an odd sort of way.  "Of course you are... I've heard her shriek.  That is pure Terry."  My smile was cheeky.  "You are so lucky, you know?  Some women have an aversion to elevators.  You'd have never gotten me in there...."

He laughed.  "Oh... I can be very persuasive when I want to be."  This time his smile was charmingly flirtatious.  I could have kissed him for it, too.  Not because he showed a faint flicker of interest but because I think it was probably the first time since he'd bumped into me on the street that he'd dropped his game face and just given me a genuine answer instead of a carefully measured banal comment. 

But regardless of that wonderful glimpse of memory lane, I still didn't want him coming inside.  I tried to get the stroller from the trunk but even carrying Tristan, Terry waved me away and got it with no problem.  "I can manage..."

It looked like he'd had a lot of practice.  I just waited there, digging in my purse for my keys, hoping to get this over with as quickly as possible.

"I'll just see you in."

Damn it.

I resisted to the last possible moment... but what can you do?  He was a man on a mission.  Tristan started crying and he passed him over, smoothly taking the keys from me and carrying in the stroller while I struggled with Tristan.  He was a little unsure of Terry and he was hungry, pulling at my dress with his little hands and rubbing his face against my shoulder.

"You can just drop that over there... never mind the mess."  Actually, there wasn't much of a mess at all.  We didn't own enough things to make a mess.  And it had gotten worse this winter.  The boiler had gone out.  We'd sold some things to pay for the repairs.  Like the TV.  And most of the furniture.  I turned away and busied myself with Tristan because I am a coward.  I didn't want to see Terry's face. 

Tristan squirmed harder.  "I'm just going to go get him sorted...."  

"No worries.... you see to Stan."  I practically flew to the bedroom we shared with our son.  I set Tristan down on the bed and shrugged out of my sweater, mechanically unbuttoning my dress.  I would feel so much better if I could just change into something more comfortable and give him a good feeding....  I wouldn't mind a cuddle either.  I sure could use one.  I think he could too...

"Hey?  You want a cuppa?"  I heard the door creak.  Terry had followed me through to ask, probably thinking I was in here just changing a diaper.  I whirled around with a gasp and held my dress to my chest but it was too late.  He'd already seen me... well my naked back anyway.  Which meant he'd have seen every last rib.  I knew what I looked like.  A skeleton.  Especially from that angle.  His chin came up and his lips were thin and tight.  "Sorry."  His voice was clipped.  "I'll be out here when you're ready...."

I couldn't look at him.  I didn't want to see the pity in his eyes.  He left silently.  I gathered Tristan into my arms and fed him.  

Living this existence was hard enough.  The only thing that was worse was sharing it with an outsider... because until that moment you can still delude yourself.  The moment you share the experience with someone outside of it, it becomes real.

I was ashamed and embarrassed and sad... and certainly not above feeling sorry for myself and our circumstances.  I've never been a wonder woman.  I'm not particularly strong.  Just stubborn.  And I do have my pride.  Or at least I did until just now.

Come out when I was ready?  I wasn't sure I ever would be.      

TERRY

I sat there on the sofa for a few minutes, stunned by what I had seen.  How could I have missed that?  The answer was simple.  I'd been too caught up in my own life, my own problems to take much notice of anyone else.  I was noticing now though.  My critical eye passed over the place again.  It was different than I remembered.  Things were missing.  Sold, I realized.  I twiddled my thumbs, thinking.  Pursed my lips as my mind turned over all the pieces and started putting them together.

The picture wasn't pretty.  I got up.  Checked to be sure the bedroom door was closed and wandered about, opening cupboards- nearly empty, checked the fridge- the same, flicked through a pile of bills- unpaid, unpaid, final notice......  I felt.... angry.  Curry hadn't said one word about this.  Not a bloody word. 

I wound up by the window, staring out at the urban scene as I worked it all out.  The view was so different than the one from our home.  Little snippets of memories started falling into place.  They'd meant nothing out of context... but now....  Now I knew why they'd cried off so many times when Uma extended an invitation to go out for dinner.  I suddenly recalled how many evenings Curry had shrugged off an invite for a pint or had laughed off my comments about the training agreeing with him.  He wasn't getting into top shape for his coming position with our company.  He didn't have any bloody food.

Stan the Man was the very picture of a botticelli baby, round and pink.  And obviously still nursing.... Christ, no wonder his mum looked like she did.  Part of me was horrified by all of it.  Another part of me was almost glad in a strange sort of way.  At the moment, my life was careening out of control.  This was one concrete problem that I could fix. 

At the sound of the bedroom door opening, I turned.  This time when I looked, I missed nothing.  All the signs were there for me to read.  I gave her a searching look.  She'd been crying.  She was hiding herself away in a bulky gray jumper and jeans.  She looked young.  And much too thin.  I knew from a lifetime of experience with women on the edge that if I held her or comforted her that she'd crumble.  She might have needed the support but she needed a meal a damn sight more. 

I took Stan and put him in the carrier.  "Get your coat... we're going out to eat.  And don't say anything... just do it."

"Terry...."

"Coat.  Now."  She complied without protest.  I occasionally wonder if Uma was born without that gene.  "I think we need to have a little talk."         

I took Tristan from her without even thinking, and with a hand at her back led her outside.  She was demure and quiet.  Uma wouldn't have shut up.  She would have duked it out to the end.  The thought annoyed me.  So why was I smiling? 

We got down to the car.  There were some young thugs hanging about the high performance vehicle.  Whistling.  Showboating.  Loitering.  I chased them off and settled in the cargo.  I do women in distress quite well.  Not to mention I think I needed to be someone's White Knight for a bit.

She gave me a watery smile and put her hand on my arm as she murmured a soft thanks.  I patted her hand.  "We wanted to tell you.... we just...."  She sniffed again. 

I stopped her.  "Let's go eat first.  You'll feel better then."  Off we went.  "Then we can talk... sort this mess out."

"Good thinking."  There was a bit of a smile on her face.  "You done this before?"

"Once or twice..."  I smiled back.  "So what's your preference?  Chinese?  Italian?  Maybe just a good old burger?"  Her stomach growled and her eyes glassed over a little. 

"I could kill for some Italian.  Pasta with heavy cream sauce.... tiramisu...."

"Your wish is my command.  I think I know just the place."

"In this neighborhood?"  She wrinkled up her nose.  "Good luck!"

"No, it is a little way out..."  I grinned and put my foot down.  "Hang on to your hats..."

I accelerated away and drove purposefully.  It was nice.  Heater on.  Warm.  Cozy.  Sleepy baby in the back.  A bit awkward still but we were doing better than before.  She reached out to flick on the radio.  Music filled the car.  I winced.  It was a wholly inappropriate song, all things considered.

I walk along the city streets you used to walk along with me
And every step I take reminds me of just how we used to be
Well, how can I forget you, girl?
When there is always something there to remind me
Always something there to remind me....

I squirmed a bit.  Rubbed at my eyebrow.  Raked a hand through my hair and finally admitted to myself that there was a pleasant color in her cheeks.  Even if she was looking out the window and I was pretending not to notice it. 

It was a long time before she spoke into the quiet that had only been broken by the hum of the radio.  "I couldn't believe my eyes when I saw you there this afternoon.... like I con-" 

She broke off, blushing.  But I finished the thought in my head.  'Like I conjured you from my thoughts.'  

"Never mind me.... I don't know what I'm saying..."

I bit my bottom lip and looked across meaningfully.  "Yeah well, memory's like that... triggers...."

"Yeah.... funny how things work out, isn't it?"

I pulled a face.  "Not sure 'funny' is the word I was looking for."

"No?"  She was looking at me through her lashes, curious.  "What word then?"

I didn't offer an answer at first.  Then when I did, it came out on a sigh.  "Don't take any notice.  It's been a bitch of a day."

"Was it?  What happened?"  

I considered - and discarded - the idea of confession.  She definitely did not need my burden on her slender shoulders.  Especially now.  Nor did I particularly feel like giving it.  "Hey, you don't want to know...."  She squeezed my hand.  "Believe me, you do not want to know."

"I always want to know, Charlie."  Her use of that old intimate nickname made me feel uneasy.  Probably because I liked hearing it... but also because I knew she'd already spoken with Uma.  She knew more than she was letting on.  "Good friends are hard to find." 

I let my irritation show through.  "Yeah... but bad ones just never give you a thought even when all the signs are staring them in the face."  I turned the conversation away from me to her.  And she let me even though she was shrewd enough to be aware of what I was doing.

She just shrugged.  "It's okay.... if you need an ear though... you know?"

Time to turn this definitively.  Besides, I'd worked up a pretty good head of anger over it anyway.  I thumped the wheel in temper.  "He should have come to me!"

She looked away.  "Maybe..."

"Don't give me that 'he has his pride crap'.  Let him eat his fucking pride."  I was fuming.  Her eyes flashed.  She did not like me talking about him like that.  Well too fucking bad.

"Like you'd have done any different?"  She was going to defend this?  To me of all people?

"Hey, this is his family.  You do anything for them."

"You think he hasn't?"  Her color was high and she was breathing hard.

"It's none of my business.... but you should not be living like that."  I knew I could get away with saying that to her just now.  She's got too much pride to lay into me for that when we are in my nice warm car, driving to a dinner which will be paid for by my bank balance.  I knew it.  And I used it to my advantage. 

"Nobody should... but it's not for much longer, Terry.  Lach has his final interviews with TOL in a few weeks."

I could not let it go.  "All the more reason for him to have had a quiet word.  Jesus Christ!  Since he's in he'll earn it.  I'll make sure he does."

I did not like the way she turned away just then.  It got me thinking.  So did her next words.  "You've had enough on your plate lately without us to worry about."

"Yeah, well... maybe I could do with someone else to think about for a change," I snapped.

It came to me then.  Lachlan had approached me one afternoon not too long before all hell broke loose with that bitch Dorema.  He had been a bit distracted.  Uneasy.  Standoffish, even.  At the time I'd chalked it up to him wanting to maintain a certain distance with me at the office.  Nobody wanted to be the bloke who got in cos he was related (however loosely) to the management. 

I tried to recall what we'd talked about that arvo.  I remember trying to break the ice.  Some mindless joke about Tink's shopping habits.... Christ.  Then it hit me.  I'd gone on about how she had nearly broken the bank.  'Bleeding me dry as a fucking bone' were my exact words, come to think of it.  It was only a joke for Christ's sake.  She hasn't been shopping for herself in months.  But that's when Lachlan had started getting edgy and then when an associate had interrupted us, he'd quietly slipped out.  Had he been working up the nerve to ask for money?  If he had, I can see why he'd changed his mind.  It did not do much for my current mood.  

I was annoyed with myself for missing it.  And with Dino for not letting on.  Surely he knew about their situation.  It had been his team watching them while they were under threat from the stalker.  I cursed inwardly.  I'd overlooked the evidence in the photos she took of them as well.  Not that they showed much besides Curry's equipment.  I'm not one to shirk anything, but clearly my mind hadn't been focused then.  Another lump of blame laid squarely at my feet?  Probably.  But hey, I am used to it by now.  Rather made a career of it, you might say.

Her touch on my arm was soft, shaking me from my musings.  I realized we had arrived at the restaurant.  Spooky.  Car on autopilot again, hey?  "Well, I can't promise anything for tomorrow... but I think Tristan is about to give you something else to think about, for tonight, anyway."  Her tone seemed to imply that he was going to be difficult.  That makes sense.  Not like he'd have much experience eating out with his parents, now would he?  Her smile was back.  "I suppose it's only fair we provide the entertainment... seeing as how you are treating us to dinner..."

"Good.  Suits me."  I handed them in easily enough, smiling as the smell of fresh bread and garlic wafted over us.  I got us a cozy table for two.  And a highchair.  Not quite how it had been in the old days, but it would do for tonight.  "He like pasta?"  Tristan was busy watching some colorful fish in a nearby tank and alternately scribbling on a paper menu with a red crayon.  "Reckon he eats anything by the look of him."

She laughed.  "Oh yeah.  He likes everything.... but then again, he also eats spiders... so that's not saying much."

"His daddy's son." I snorted.  

"Yeah... you can say that again."

I was not quite sure why she scowled at my mention of Lachlan.  She'd certainly defended him avidly enough before.  I left the subject alone.  By the time we'd finished the appetizers, Tristan was rubbing his eyes.  She plonked him down in his carrier. 

"Past his bedtime?"  I checked my watch.  "Maia is usually tucked up by seven.  I'm usually home by eight."  It seems I was up for a bit of confession after all.

"I know that routine.  Actually he's going down earlier than usual... we had a long day at the park."

I nodded.  "Fresh air... nothing like it for knocking a boy out."

"He's a bit of a night owl, actually.  Sometimes I feel so guilty for it, but he's often still up at midnight.  Our hours are shifted.  But at least he's awake when Lach comes home on occasion."

"Maia must wonder who I am sometimes... I've been so busy recently.  Beginning to fall into a familiar pattern..."

"That's got to be hard."

"Story of my life."  I smiled at her.  "You want wine?" She did not look convinced.  "Let's have a bottle."  I gave her my best grin.  "You know me and women...."

"Still plying them with alcohol in the hopes of getting lucky, huh?" She laughed.  I did too.  I'd missed her teasing.  Her laughter quieted and she grew more serious.  "I shouldn't...."

"That is exactly when you should."  I knew she was worried about it affecting her milk.  "He's already eaten half a plate of appetizers... besides... so he gets his milk laced?  Won't do him any harm.  Surprised you're still feeding...."  My voice trailed off as her smile faded.  I worked it out.  Breastfeeding was free.  "Forget I said that.  None of my business...."

"No, it's okay."  I think that was the moment she finally stopped making excuses, both to me and to herself.  "The truth is it is cheaper..... but he's also not quite ready to stop.  Six of one, half a dozen of another, you know?" 

I wondered what it cost her to say that.  

The wine arrived along with the food.  I filled her glass and raised my own.  "To memories, hey?"

She raised hers.  "To memories..."  We both drank deeply.  "There were some good ones in there, weren't there?"

"All good."  I smiled.  "Now start eating.  Talk later."

Her grin was genuine.  "Yes, sir."

I pushed the food around on my plate while she tucked in with gusto.  She got full fast.  I thought that might happen.  We talked for a bit while she nibbled.  I learned about how they'd gotten into such a jam; about how the classes Curry was taking had wound up being more expensive because he wasn't a British citizen.  How they'd had a run of bad luck with regular every day things, including a boiler that had turned out to be a moneypit.  Even how Lachlan had taken her bracelet because he found out she'd sold one of the charms off it, though I can't really fault him here.  I'd have done the same thing.  So would Uma.  She'd have sold anything to take care of us.  Sometimes it amazes me how alike two such different women can be.

I think Heather almost had an orgasm over the tiramisu.  She's always had a thing sweet desserts that are much too heavy for my tastes, but I enjoyed her enjoyment of it.  Simple things, hey? 

She gave me a look.  I hadn't ordered any.  Just coffee.  "You not hungry?"

"I ate lunch.  It is still stuck in my craw."

"That bad?"

"That bad."

I think she was beginning to realize this was not just about Uma.  I think I was feeling more like talking about it now that we'd sort of settled back into that old rhythm; that old intimate rhythm, lubricated by wine and the warmth of old memories.  I was aware it was happening.  Not sure if she was, but I knew that as long as I kept things within a certain range I might be treading on dangerous ground... but it was nothing I couldn't handle.  Or so I thought at the time.      

"You going to dance around it all night, Terry?  Or are you going to spit it out?"  She touched my hand affectionately.  "Safe harbor, remember?"  Her voice was soft.

"I saw my son today.  With his girlfriend, the inimitable Imogen."

"Really?  How was it?"

"Unpleasant."

"Now there's a word for you."

"She's pregnant."

"There's another."

I pulled a face.  Well, 'pregnant' was more of an appropriate word than 'funny' or 'unpleasant', all things considered.  "He's dropping out.  Probably going to live in some cult."

"Oh, Terry..."  Her eyes went soft and her hand stroked my back gently.  It felt good.  "They sprung that on you at lunch today?"

"Yeah.  Puts you off your steak."  I took a sip of espresso.  "And then Penny found out I knew and she didn't.... and that is somehow my fault as well."

"That's one negotiation I wouldn't want a part of, even with your training."

Her gentle teasing made me smile.  "Negotiation?"  I snorted.  "I just gave in, mate.  Or gave up more like... Let Penny tell me what a selfish immature bastard I was."  Wow.  For someone who didn't want to talk about himself, I was on a roll.  It felt good.  And it was easier than I had imagined it would be once I'd gotten started.  But then isn't that how it always goes?  One slide down that slippery slope and you are gone....

"You know that isn't true."  I liked how emphatic she was in defending me, even to myself.  I knew I'd always been a bit of the hero to her.  She'd always been good for my ego that way, probably because she'd always had a somewhat idealized view of the man I was under the mask.  She was also loyal... and honest.  Two attributes I hold dear to my heart.

"It's one point of view," I allowed.

She ignored me.  "What are they going to do?  What are you going to do?"

I shrugged.  "What I can.  But it will cost them.  I am not seeing him throw his career away over this maneater."

"That old piper again, hey?  He never plays for free, does he?"

"Why change a habit of a lifetime?  My son may hate me, but he will have to play by my rules....."  

I kept confessing and she just let me talk.  I ordered some dessert just so it was there on the table.  She ate half.  We must have talked for an hour.  Frankly, I was surprised how much came pouring out when the floodgate opened.  Not sure if she was or not.  I have a hard time reading her.  Always have.  And there are times I like that very much. 

"So..... looks like I'm not going to be a granddad after all.  Just yet, anyway."

"You reading my mind now before I can even get the question out?"  She toyed with her wineglass.  "You okay with that?  It's a part of you in a way."

"Not sure.... it is still my grandchild, you know?  Flesh and blood."  I sighed.  "Kids... what do they know?"  

Her expression was wry.  "I am not sure that's just limited to kids."

"Well, I know a woman who would agree with you there.  Two actually.  And both have something in common."

"And that is?"

"Me."

She smiled.  "That's not such a bad thing to have in common, now is it?  It could be worse..."

"I am not sure they would agree."  I called for the check.  "There is no more tiramisu this side of Roma...."  She flushed at my teasing. 

"I'd eat it all over again if I could.  It was so good.  Thank you."

"You might regret that later.... but I am too much of a gentleman to go into details."

She grinned at me.  "You are not....  if memory serves...."  She was veering onto some pretty dangerous ground... but then again, so was I.  I headed for the gents with Stan the Man (and a smile on my face) and she excused herself to the ladies.  We were waiting when she got back.  The wine had put a rosy glow in her pale face and I piled them both into the car with a grin.  She was a little loose and Tristan had woken up and was pretty bouncy, playing and making noises to himself in the back seat. 

All of us seemed to be more comfortable with each other.  She was even pretty easy when Stan announced his rumbling tummy with a pitiful little cry.  I know just how you feel, mate.  This time she just smiled a little shyly at me.  "Do you mind?"

I shook my head and she climbed into the back seat and fed him.  I wasn't above looking in the rearview mirror at the intimate act.  I felt a loosening inside me at the sight of his little head cradled against the exposed skin of her breast.  Our eyes met in the mirror.  She did not hide herself from me.  And I did not look away.  So much for being able to negotiate dangerous ground without taking a tumble down that slippery slope.

I was surprised by how long it took for him to get his fill.  Maia never took that long with Uma.  I reckon he was just there for a bit of a comfort suck as well.  Can't really blame him for that, now can I?  Being wrapped up safe and warm and content in a woman's arms was one of the best things that could happen to a bloke, big or small. 

She was just fixing her jumper when I pulled into the little 24 hour superstore.

"Terry?"

I grinned.  "I need to buy some groceries.  You don't mind?"  I handed them both out with ease.  

"Oh you do, do you?"  She had me sussed, but it's not like I made any effort to hide it.  And I wasn't taking no for an answer.  I had the means.  She didn't right now.  That's what you do for people you care about.

"I do indeed.  Trouble is... I just do not know what an average family needs... you wouldn't mind filling a trolley for me?"

"Terry... Dinner was one thing... but-"

I would not have it.  "Just call it breakfast."  I tucked a strand of her flyaway hair behind her ear.  I always did like her hair, so long and thick... I shook myself.  "I always used to provide both, didn't I?"

She laughed and punched me.  "No, you didn't.  You promised me eggs in bed and we never-"  She suddenly realized what she'd just said and clammed straight up. 

I had won.  "Why you arguing then?  This is my chance to put it right."  

She'd have jumped at any excuse just then, flustered as she was.  "Sorry!  The wine... It's been a while..."  I followed behind her, smiling at her back.  A man is less embarrassed by such things.  Especially when the memories are pleasant. 

Shopping with them was strangely domestic.  Enjoyable all the more for the novelty of it.  I do not typically shop with Uma.  Somewhere it registered in my mind that it was playing with fire this way; to appear like some normal family just out for a late night shopping trip.  It was even more dangerous to enjoy it.  Mostly I just trailed along behind them, let her fill the trolley.  I felt for her as I realized the extent of their need.  Not just food, but toiletries too. 

I can't pretend it was a totally selfless act, however.  Especially after I tossed a pregnancy test in the trolley.  I knew Heather knew.  Uma had told me as much.  What was the point of dancing round it any longer?  I gave her a 'don't you dare give me any' look, even though I clearly expected this topic to have come up already this evening.  Maybe it was my way of letting her know I was annoyed that she hadn't yet let on she knew about it.  I was also aware I wouldn't have been as open about it if I hadn't wanted to talk about it at some point.  It still didn't keep me from giving her a sharp look though.

She just smiled.  "Hey, for the record... I've gotten good at dodging that kind of dagger."

"Don't get too cocky, love.  I was aiming to miss."

"Yeah?  That how you got into this situation?"  

"Funny.  But true."  I'd forgotten how quick she could be.  I think she thought she might have offended me.  Instead her comment amused me.  I could see the absurd side of it all and despite having one hell of a day, I found myself laughing in the feminine hygeiene aisle of a superstore in a dodgy neighborhood.  Crazy.   

Heather laughed too.  "I missed that, you know?"  

She missed my laugh?  

I was surprised.  And pleased.  But she didn't linger there.  "And whatever the test says, Terry.  It's not the end of the world, you know?"

"I know that."  My comment was a bit more terse than I'd intended.  We were at the tills.  Speaking to her about my private life in low tones was one thing.  Speaking about it in front of an eavesdropping cashier was another matter entirely.

It got worse when the young woman picked the test up and ran it over the scanner, giving us both a look.  I just gave her a stony stare, daring her to say something.  Daring anyone to say something.  I should have known better.

Heather flashed her eyes at me.  "Well, we've always wanted more....."  That comment had the ring of truth to it.  I suddenly wondered why she'd gone out of her way to avoid talking about Lachlan all night long.  The cashier misunderstood... but I did not.

And I was up for her little game.  "Well, we planned on one."  Fired that one straight back.  Your move, darlin'.

"More to love," she shot back.

The cashier was watching our exchange intently as I swiped my card.  I was getting tired of it.  Especially when I saw her look to see if we were wearing rings.  I addressed her directly.  "She lives with my younger brother.  We like to keep it in the family," I said tartly, watching with satisfaction as the cashier's eyes widened and she sputtered. 

Heather kicked me.  "Older brother."  The look she gave me brought me out of the realm of total annoyance to something closer to amused irritation.  I was done talking about it in public though.  I shoved the card into my wallet, grabbed the receipt, scribbled my name and all but dragged them out of there without a single care for how it looked to anyone.  She stopped me by the car.

"So what are you going to do if it is positive?"

I leaned back and blew out.  God, I could use a fag.  "I think I still got a few rounds in my Sig Sauer."

"You are as bad as she is!"

I rounded on her.  "So, you are admitting that you talked about it."

"Yeah."  She looked guilty.  "And as it turns out, I am a pretty bad friend.  Gave her some rotten advice."

"You did?  Like get a test and stop whining?  Sounds like the right way to me."  I know it sounded harsh, but I knew she could deal with the real me when I dropped the mask, even if I think she did still tend to see me with rose colored glasses even then.

I was wrong about that.  "No.  More along the lines of you dancing with joy at the idea of being a father again."  I could tell she was in a tough spot, beholden to me for the groceries but still not willing to sugar coat it when I pressed her.

"So, you know where my balls are as well, hey?"

Silence.

"Yes."  I was not expecting that answer.  It wasn't clever or smart or nasty.  It was just honest.  And it made me mad.

"Look... I'm a man... I don't have a week out of four to excuse me for being irrational... nor do I have a couple of days to adjust.  She just comes right out of the blue and tells me.  I was thrown a curve-"

She interrupted.  "No, you just conveniently think with your other head whenever the spirit moves you."  I had the impression she was speaking about someone else.  Or that she hadn't meant just me.  I was mad enough not to care.

"So you're ready to blame me as well?  Don't women have any part to play in the love game?  I don't see much sign of any of you saying no at the time...  The spirit moved me.  And it would appear I wasn't the only one- or I wouldn't be in this mess."

I saw her wince and heard her gasp.  "Blame you?  I'm not blaming anyone.  Which is more than I can say for you."

I probably deserved that.  I can be brutal when attacked.  And I argue well, turning it back easily, especially with someone like her who argues emotionally rather than logically.  "You also know what I said to her?  You got some magic powers I don't know about?"  I pulled away and slammed the trunk before getting in the car aggressively.

She crossed her arms and glared at me from the passenger's seat.  "Yeah.  It's called intuition.  It comes along with that week where we get to 'excuse' ourselves for being irrational...."  She looked over at me.  "What's your excuse?"  Her chest was rising and falling in temper and then suddenly the wind went out of her sails as she realized exactly what my excuse was.  Henry.  The abortion of my grandchild. 

"I am sorry.  This is not the time for gender insults.  But if you must know, I'm irrational all the fucking time, okay?"

"Terry...."  She put one hand on my keys.  The other wormed behind me to rub my back soothingly.  It was human contact, and at the moment, I needed it.  "You talked with Uma after Henry dropped the bomb on you at lunch, didn't you?"

I gave her a curt nod but my chin still came up.  Whatever I am, I am still a tough soldier.  

"That must have been awful."  

"Found her crying in the bathroom.  I was a shit, Heather.  A complete bastard."  She hugged me then, an instinctive notion, and I let her draw me in.  Sometimes I got bloody sick of swallowing the blame every fucking time.

"I don't think either of you were in the best frame of mind."  She stroked my hair.  "It's not your fault... or hers... it's just life...."  We broke the embrace and moved apart.  "It sure is pretty real in this place, isn't it?"

"As real as it gets.  As you both know."  I started the engine and sighed.  Enough confessing.  For now.  "Let's get you and sleeping beauty home."  Thankfully, Tristan had slept through most of our row.  It's a good job I encouraged her to have a little wine with dinner. 

She laughed.  "Yeah.  Good thinking.  I'm going to turn back into a pumpkin here any minute anyway."

That made me smile.  She's a bit rusty but still good at drawing me from my moods.  "I always preferred my princesses in the scullery anyway.  There is something about a girl with cinders on her face."

"Dirty boy."  Her laugh was soft and warm.  "More like you preferred having 'cinders' on your face."

I grinned at her and put my foot down.  The superstore and our bad feelings both disappeared into the night.  "Now you are really giving me dirty thoughts.  Change the subject quick or I shall be crude."

She snorted.  "Like that ever stopped you before?"

Interesting.  I doubted she had any idea what was in my mind.  She was probably thinking of when we played dirty scrabble or something.  I was thinking about something far more explicit.  "You daring me?"  

"Always.  You know me... I like to live on the edge."

"Move over.  There's room for two."

Her eyebrow went up.  "So, you're coming back from the other side then?"  I got the sense she was only half joking.

"What am I?  A fucking vampire?"

She burst out laughing and then covered her mouth.  "Sorry!  I had this vision of you as Lestat.  Long hair.... frilly clothes....fangs....."

I snorted.  "Watch your neck, love... the sun is going down."  I ran a hand through my hair.  "And I am the short haired variety, if you must know."  She should not be playing this game with me.  I should not be playing this game with me.  But I was.  And it was fun.  I grinned wickedly at her.  "But I do bite..." 

"I remember."

"Now that's what I call a memory, hey?"  I looked over at her meaningfully, aware it was bound to make her a bit confused.  Possibly a bit aroused as well.  She didn't say anything but she nodded and her hand crept up to touch her neck.  I knew exactly what she was thinking of... because I remember too. 

This time when I flicked on the stereo I deliberately chose music that was inappropriate. 

So put me on a highway 
And show me a sign 
And take it to the limit one more time 

You can spend all your time making money 
You can spend all your love making time 
If it all fell to pieces tomorrow 
Would you still be mine? 

She listened and I caught her looking over at me, not quite sure if it was an accident or if I'd done it on purpose.

By the time we got back to her flat, Tristan was out for the count.  I brought him in followed by the groceries.  This time there was still tension, but no awkwardness.  Just that exciting spark of awareness.  I watched her move about in the small kitchen, putting things away and decided to lend a helping hand.  It was a tight fit.  We were brushing up against each other more and more. 

It started out innocent enough but quickly got out of hand.  She stepped on my foot.  I laughed and caught her up.  Righted her only for us both to reach in a sack and have our fingers brush when we grabbed for the same item.  It progressed.  Her breast against my arm.  My hand on her hip, steadying her as she stood on tiptoe to push something into a cupboard overhead.  I leaned in tight behind her, my hand covering hers as I shoved the item to the back of the shelf. 

She was so thin and slight.  I know it's probably wrong, but that almost impossible etherealness compared to my larger frame only made it more exciting.  The smile she gave me when she discovered the bottle of lavender lotion I'd tucked in there without her noticing was even better.

"My favorite!"  She opened the cap and smelled it.  The pleasurable sound she made in her throat was tortuously erotic.

I took it from her and poured a little bit out into my palm.  "Come here, lassie..."  It was the first time I'd allowed myself to use the name I'd been calling her in my head since dinner.  My private name for her.  And being her bonny Prince right now felt pretty damned good.

She moved closer.  I turned her and pushed the long dark fall of her hair out of the way.  The scooped neck of her jumper gave me access to her slender neck and the smooth skin of her upper back.  She felt delicate under my fingers, fragile and feminine and touching her felt so good, made me feel like a man, strong and in control.  The scent alone was enough to bring a thousand memories rushing back.  I anointed her neck and rubbed in the creamy lotion.  And I kept touching her even after it was gone and I wasn't using my hand to massage anymore, but to caress her. 

"Mmmm....."

She turned in my arms, soft and warm and feminine.  I put my hands on her hips and pulled her closer.  I knew she could feel my erection.  She was moving against it lightly.

"The scent always reminds me of you."  I leaned in to smell her neck and pressed in close, dropping my hands to her arse and kneading.  I felt the tip of her nose on the skin of my throat.  A breath.  A nuzzle that trailed up my neck and then to the underside of my jaw... up and up until her soft dry lips finally brushed over mine from left to right and back again.  It was not a kiss.  It was only the lightest touch.  Her mouth was open.  So was mine.  We were sharing the same breath.  My heart was beating so fast and I could feel the blood pooling between my legs getting heavier and heavier. 

My lips hovered over hers.  I could feel the warmth of her breath on my cheek and feel the erratic beating of her heart.  She shifted against me subtly. 

"Terry....."  That was when I felt it; that moment when a woman capitulates and gives herself over completely.

Fuck.  FUCK!  What the fuck was I doing?  My jaw shot up and I stepped back, trying to cover my embarrassment with talk.  With anything.  But what could I say standing there in her kitchen, still sporting an impressive erection and a guilty flush?

"Yeah... well.... I think I've kept you late enough...."  I checked my watch.  "That the time?  Lachlan will be in any minute wanting his dinner.... won't want to find me here like some gooseberry...."

I thought for a moment she was going to cry but she stiffened at my deliberate mention of Curry.  Good.  Aw, fuck!  How could I have let this happen?  She might have been giving out signals but I'm not entirely convinced she knew what she was about.  I sure as hell did though. 

She hung her head.  Her cheeks were scarlet.  "I'm sorry... I'm so sorry...."

I backed away.  "Thank you for the company... and the talk...."  It sounded too formal even to my own burning ears.  

Her head snapped up and her eyes flashed.  "I'll send you my bill."  Her answer was tart.

"I think it's even."  I turned to go and she grabbed my hand again and then dropped it with a gasp, as if she'd suddenly realized how often she'd done that tonight. 

"I'm sorry... I didn't mean... I wouldn't...."  

"I know."  Her eyes were nervously darting about as if she expected Curry to swoop down on us both at any moment.  I bloody well intended to be gone before that happened.  She ran back to the kitchen and then caught me at the door, pressing the pregnancy test into my hands.  "Go talk to her," she managed to mumble.  She looked like she was on the verge of tears.  Bloody perfect. 

I nodded.  "I think you and Lachlan need a talk."  She hadn't once brought him up tonight and I knew her well enough to know exactly what that meant.  "I'll be in touch... let's see if we can't arrange something in the interim with regard to your situation here."  I winced, aware it sounded too businesslike, but hey- that is me under pressure.  The face I hide behind.  "And whatever is going on with you two- I am not the answer... I would be the mistake."

I knew I was leaving her at the worst possible time.  She wasn't just open and receptive to me physically, but emotionally as well.  I was leaving her high and dry in more ways than one, but I was not the one she needed to be sharing with.  And she was not my safe harbor.  Not anymore. 

Someday she would thank me for it.  

But not today.

And for the second time today I tucked tail and ran.... Leaving a weepy emotion woman to face her demons alone.