Erin heard a car pull up outside and put down the pen she’d been making notes with, walking to the door to see who had arrived.
It had been two days since she’d last seen him and she didn’t like the surge of joy his appearance caused. It was confusion she didn’t want right now but it was becoming harder to keep pushing aside.
‘How was the sale?’ she called as he got closer. His jeans and checked shirt were reasonably clean, which was unusual because he’d normally have been out working. She dragged her gaze from the strong, tanned forearms exposed where the sleeves of his shirt were rolled up.
‘Not bad. Just got back,’ he said, coming to a stop at the bottom of the steps. ‘I had to stay overnight and drive home early today.’
‘Didn’t think you looked dirty enough to have been working.’
‘We can’t all go to work in suits,’ he said. ‘How are you doing?’
Erin suspected he was having a dig at Phillip, but let it go. She really didn’t have the heart to engage in their usual banter, and even less enthusiasm to bother defending her soon-to-be ex-husband. ‘Fine,’ she replied.
‘Really?’ he asked, attempting to hold her fleeting glance.
Erin shrugged. ‘I don’t know what I feel. Sad mostly. But a little bit relieved too.’ She wasn’t sure why she’d admitted that out loud, it was something she’d been feeling terrible about.
‘Me too.’ He held her reluctant look. ‘I really hated visiting her in that place. At least she’s not trapped in that damn bed any more.’
Erin swallowed over her tight throat and nodded. ‘She was miserable when I saw her that first day . . . and then she just kind of gave up.’
A sad silence fell between them and Erin stared out over the tall treetops in the distance.
‘Mum said she and Dad were over earlier today.’
‘Yeah. They dropped by to see if I needed any help.’
‘So they mentioned. They also said you told them you didn’t,’ he said in a droll tone. ‘You know, you don’t have to do everything alone. They want to help.’
‘I know they do, but there’s just nothing to help with,’ she said and nodded across to a black leather-bound diary sitting on the table.
‘The little black book?’ he asked.
Gran had always made sure those closest to her knew about her little black book. It wasn’t a book of old flames; it was the book where she kept all her important information. She’d paid for her funeral plot and all the burial arrangements decades ago when Pop had passed away; she’d written down exactly how she wanted her service, complete with hymns and music, flowers for the church and readings she wanted. There was really nothing much left to do except notify the relevant places and instigate her pre-organised requests.
‘You know Gran,’ she said sadly. ‘She had everything organised. Cuppa?’ she asked as she turned to walk inside.
‘She only did it because she hated the thought of being a burden on anyone, you know that, right?’ he said gently.
His softer side caught her off guard for a moment. ‘Yes, I know,’ she replied.
A comfortable silence fell between them as she fixed their coffee and reached for the Tupperware container of biscuits, before handing him his mug and taking a seat at the kitchen table.
Erin passed the biscuits to Jamie and watched him take two large jam drops. He closed his eyes and gave a small moan of appreciation after biting into the first one. ‘Gran makes the best jam drops.’
Made. Erin corrected silently. She made the best jam drops. These were the last of the batch Gran had stockpiled in the freezer. Her throat tightened at the thought. After this there would never be any more.
‘Did you manage to get hold of your mum?’ he asked.
‘No, but I left a message with the airline. I didn’t want her arriving without knowing.’
He nodded and they let the conversation drop.
‘I know it’s the neighbourly thing to do, but you don’t have to keep checking on me, you know,’ she said after a while. ‘I’m okay.’
‘You think I’m only doing it to be neighbourly?’ he asked, his eyes fixed on the mug before him.
‘Well, yes. I know our families go back a long way and everything.’
‘We go back a long way,’ he said, lifting his gaze and holding hers steadily.
‘Yes. We do,’ she said, clearing her throat. ‘All I’m saying is you don’t have to feel obligated—’
‘It’s not an obligation.’
Erin fiddled with the handle of her cup. She wasn’t entirely sure what she could add. His tone suggested she’d offended him, but his expression remained outwardly calm. It was strange having known someone as a child, yet time and distance making them relative strangers.
Downing the remainder of her coffee, Erin stood and crossed the kitchen to place her cup in the sink. She heard Jamie behind her and turned to accept the plate he was holding. Something about seeing that empty plate triggered an unexpected reaction. Only a few crumbs remained on the pretty pale pink plate. Gone. Empty. She turned abruptly to add the plate to the dishes in the sink.
A pair of strong hands rested on her shoulders and she blinked hard. Heat shot through her body, the warmth spreading from the hands against her skin, igniting something dormant inside her. Without conscious thought, she turned slowly, keeping her gaze firmly fixed on the front of his shirt.
His hands slid slowly from her shoulders down her arms, to her hands, which he held loosely. Erin felt his gaze on her, watching, waiting for a response. If she looked at him, she knew she would be lost. In her present state of mind, it would be all too easy to give in to whatever this lingering thing was between them. She was lonely, damn it. The need for physical contact, to feel desired after having been rejected by her husband, was a powerful force.
He was waiting, she could feel his gaze burning into her flesh, but he made no movement, just stood there like he was built of rock.
Was it fair to use Jamie as a balm for her wounded pride? Would she like to be used that way by him? The thought was enough to instantly strengthen her wavering willpower.
Erin took a sideways step and Jamie released her hands without comment.
After a brief silence, he spoke and his tone sounded surprisingly normal, as though the moment had never even happened. ‘There’s a bit of a gathering happening at Mum and Dad’s tonight. It’s nothing fancy, just a barbie and a few beers if you’re up to it.’
Up until now she had been somewhat of a hermit, and quite frankly it would be nice to get out of the house for a while. She found herself nodding in agreement. ‘What time?’
‘Six-thirty, seven, whenever you get there.’
‘Okay. Thanks. I guess I’ll see you tonight.’
He was already at the screen door when he sent her a wave, but she saw him pause briefly at the threshold.
Erin held her breath, but the moment passed and he obviously changed his mind about whatever it was he had been about to say.
Long after the sound of his vehicle had faded, Erin stood in the doorway looking out. She hadn’t counted on anything like this happening. It had been the last thing on her mind when she’d left Sydney, but as hard as she tried to ignore it, something was still there between her and Jamie. Maybe staying on after the funeral for a while wasn’t such a great idea after all. Then again, the thought of leaving didn’t hold much relief either.
She wasn’t entirely sure she was strong enough to keep being the one to step back from the edge every time. Not when a small part of her was urging her to jump.