Trina
THE EARLY-MORNING SUNBEAM poked Trina in the eye with an unfamiliar exuberance and she groaned and threw her hand up to cover her face. Who left the curtains open? Only one answer to that. The twinge of morning memory and loss made her breath hitch and she forced herself to breathe calmly.
Saturday morning. Scuba lesson. She groaned again and all the doubts and fears from last week came rushing back to twist her stomach. Why had she said she wanted to do this again? Why the need to push herself to extremes she didn’t feel comfortable with?
She flung the bedclothes back and swung her legs. The floor was warmed a little under her feet from the sun. That too seemed different.
Okay. Why was she fighting this? This was a new chapter in her life. Same book. She wasn’t removing any of the pages—just going forward.
She squinted at the morning beams painting the inside of her one-room croft in golden stripes and decided they were quite lovely. Not worth groaning about at all.
She padded across to the uncurtained double doors looking out over the ocean and decided the light streaming in shone still a little too bright until she’d made an Earl Grey to start the day and turned her back.
As she busied herself in the tiny kitchen nook, she pondered on yesterday and the advances she’d made towards holding a sensible conversation with an eligible male. Though technically she guessed he wasn’t eligible. But probably safe to practise on, as long as he was okay with it.
Not that she had any long-term intentions but she’d done all right. Beaten the bogeyman, and so had he. That made it a little easier. And no doubt different for him, as his wife had chosen to go. How on earth could a woman leave her baby? And why would she leave Finlay? That too was a teensy worry.
Trina thought back to where she’d been a year ago. Still in a black fog with a bright shiny mask on her face for work.
She didn’t believe that time healed all wounds, but maybe it scabbed over some of the deeper lacerations. The problem with losing your true love was they were never really gone, always hovering, a comfort, and an ache that flared into pain that burned right through you.
Boy, did she recognise the symptoms of reluctantly dipping a toe into the real world after the misty haze of deep grief. There were some aspects of her loss of Ed that would never disappear but in other ways she could, and would, live a happy life. She didn’t think that Finlay Foley had reached that stage yet. Which was a tiny shame.
But she’d better get on and prepare for her scuba lesson. She’d eat when she came back.
By the time Trina left her croft on the cliff she knew she’d be late if she didn’t hurry and her steps skipped as she descended to the beach with her towel and specially fitted snorkelling mask. That was one good thing about living right on the beach—she didn’t need to carry much because home was always a few steps away.
The path stopped at the sand and Trina began walking quickly around the headland. She’d glanced once towards the curve of the bay but no Finlay and Piper there, no sign of him, so tall and broad and unmistakable, so no golden-haired Piper on his back either, and fancifully it felt strange to be hurrying away without seeing them.
She forced herself to look forward again and concentrated on the scuba lessons she’d learnt last week from old Tom, running through the procedures.
‘Nice even breathing through the mouthpiece; no holding your breath. This is how to replace a regulator in your mouth if it gets knocked out. This is how to control the speed of your ascent and descent by letting air in and out via the buoyancy control, so your ears don’t hurt. Nothing to be nervous about. We’ll go as slow as you need.’
Two hours later as she walked home in a much more desultory fashion a glow of pride warmed her as she remembered old Tom’s quiet pleasure in her. ‘You’re a natural,’ he’d told her.
A natural scuba diver? Who would have known? But today he’d taken her to the little island just off the beach and they’d dived slowly around the tiny inlets and rocks and seen colourful fish, delicate submarine plant life that swayed with the rhythm of the ocean, once a small stingray and one slightly larger shark, and it had all been Technicolor brilliant. Exciting. And, to her absolute delight, she’d loved it.
Her mind danced with snapshots of the morning and she didn’t see the man and little girl sitting in a shallow rock pool under the cliff until she was almost upon them.
‘Oh. You. Hello,’ she stammered as she was jerked out of her happy reveries.
‘Good morning, Catrina,’ Finlay said. Though how on earth he could remain nonchalant while sitting in a sandy-bottom indent in the rock where the water barely covered his outstretched legs, she had no idea. ‘You look very pleased with yourself.’
She regarded them. She liked the way they looked—so calm and happy, Piper dressed in her frilly pink swimsuit that covered her arms and legs. And she liked the way he called her Catrina. Ed had always called her Trina and she wasn’t ready for another man to shorten her name. ‘Good morning to you, Finlay.’
‘Finn. Please. I’m usually Finn. Don’t know why I was so formal yesterday.’
‘Finn.’ She nodded and smiled down at Piper. ‘Hello, Piper. What can you see in the rock pool?’
The little girl turned her big green eyes back to the water. Pointed one plump finger. ‘Fiss,’ Piper said and Finn’s eyes widened.
His mouth opened and closed just like the word his daughter had almost mouthed.
‘She said fish!’ His eyes were alight with wonder and the huge smile on his face made Trina want to hug him to celebrate the moment of pure joy untinged by bitterness. ‘I can’t believe she said fish.’
‘Clever girl,’ Trina said and battled not to laugh out loud. She’d thought it had been more like a mumbled fiss. But she was sure her father knew better. Her mouth struggled to remain serious. In the end she giggled. Giggled? Again? What the heck?
She’d never been a giggler but this guy made her smiles turn into noises she cringed at.
To hide her idiotic response she said, ‘I’ve seen fish too, Piper.’
Finn glanced at her mask. ‘You’ve been snorkelling?’
Trina spread her arms and said with solemn pride, almost dramatically, ‘I have been scuba diving.’
‘Have you? Go you. I used to love to scuba.’ He glanced around. ‘Would you like to join us in our pool? There’s no lifeguard except me but if you promise not to run or dive we’ll let you share.’
Trina scanned the area too. Nobody she knew. She’d look ridiculous, though a voice inside her head said he looked anything but ridiculous in his skin-tight blue rash shirt and board shorts that left not one gorgeous muscle top or bottom unaccounted for.
She put down her mask and the sandals she carried, folded her towel to sit on, hiked up her sundress so it didn’t drag in the water and eased herself down at the edge of the pool and put her feet in. The water felt deliciously cool against her suddenly warmer skin.
Finn watched her and she tried not to be aware of that. Then Piper splashed him and the mood broke into something more relaxed. ‘So where did you go to scuba?’
She glanced the way she’d come. ‘Have you been around the headland?’
He nodded. ‘Around the next two until Piper started to feel like a bag of cement on my back.’
Trina laughed. She could so imagine that. She smiled at him. ‘The next bay is called Island Bay and the little rocky island that’s about four hundred metres out is called Bay Island.’
He laughed. ‘Creative people around here.’
She pretended to frown at him. ‘I like to think of it as being whimsical.’
‘Whimsical. Right.’
She nodded at him. ‘Thank you. So, Bay Island is where I did this morning’s lesson. Old Tom takes beginners out.’
Piper sat between Finn’s legs and he had his big brown long-fingered hands around her tiny waist so she couldn’t slip. She was splashing with her starfish hands and silver droplets of water dripped in chasing drops down her father’s chest. An unexpected melancholy overwhelmed Trina because the picture made her ache for lost opportunities she should have had with Ed. Opportunities Finn should have had with his wife. She wondered when these thoughts would stop colouring her every experience.
Finn smiled. ‘Let me guess. His business is called Old Tom’s Dive Shop.’
She jerked back to the present. Her brows crinkled in mock disbelief and she drew the sentence out slowly. ‘How did you know that?’
‘I’m psychic.’ His expression remained serious.
‘Really?’ She tried for serious too but he was doing it again and her mouth twitched.
‘Mmm-hmm. True story.’
‘Wow.’ She noted the little girl had found a treasure. ‘So you can see your daughter is about to put a shell in her mouth?’
Without taking his eyes off Trina’s face, his hand came up gently and directed Piper’s hand away from her lips. Brushed her fingers open until she dropped the shell and bent down and kissed the little fingers. ‘Absolutely.’
‘That’s fascinating.’ And it was. Watching this big bronzed man being so gentle and connected to this tiny girl-child. The bond between them made tears sting Trina’s eyes and she pretended she’d splashed water in them. Until she felt, and heard, her tummy rumble with sullen emptiness and seized on the excuse.
‘Well, as lovely as your private ocean pool is, I need to have food. I missed breakfast and I’m starving.’
‘Ah. So that’s what the noise was,’ he teased. ‘I thought it was an outboard motor.’
She flicked tiny droplets from her damp fingers at him. ‘Too rude.’
He rolled his eyes at her, then shifted Piper from between his legs to sit in the shallow pool and stood up easily. He leant down to offer her his hand. ‘Piper’s hungry. I should feed her too.’
She barely heard him. His so casually offered fingers were a stumbling block and she hesitated. Piper splashed and she knew she was holding them up. Reluctantly she put out her hand to his and his strong brown fingers closed over hers to lift her smoothly. Way too easily. But the touch of his fingers on hers created such a vibration between them that their eyes met. One pair as startled as the other.
When she was standing he let go quickly and bent down to hoist his daughter into his arms. His face stayed hidden as he tickled her and Trina straightened her own shocked features into a mask of politeness as Piper giggled.
‘Well,’ she said awkwardly, still rocked by the frisson of awareness that had warmed her whole hand. Her whole arm really. ‘Thanks for the swim.’
‘Can we walk back with you?’
No, she thought. ‘Of course,’ she said. And resisted the urge to hold her tingling hand in the other. She bent down and picked up her sandals and mask, slung her towel over her shoulder and resolutely faced the bay until they began walking beside her.
‘Would you like to have lunch with us?’
No, she thought. I can’t. I don’t know what I’m feeling and it’s making me more nervous than scuba diving ever did. But that was the idea of these new challenges. To challenge things that seemed daunting. And Finn was safe. It took her a long time to answer but strangely she didn’t feel pressured to make that snap decision. So she thought about it some more. It was just an impromptu lunch. And Piper made it much easier than if there were just the two of them. ‘Okay. Where?’
‘How about the beach shop? They have a closed-in play area that Piper loves to crawl around. It’s shady and the breeze is always good there.’
‘Sounds easy. But how about I meet you there? I didn’t bring my purse. I can just run up to the croft and get it.’
He looked a little crestfallen. ‘Piper may not last that long. She’s nearly ready for her sleep. I could shout you. You could pay for ice creams or something next time?’
Next time? They hadn’t tried this time yet. This was all happening way too fast. And wasn’t he having as much trouble as she was, putting a toe in the water of opposite sex conversation? Panic built like a wave rising from the ocean to her left. She tried to ride it and not be dumped.
He must have seen the indecision on her face because his features softened in understanding. ‘It’s okay. We can do a rain-check for another day.’
Disappointment dipped in her stomach. Did she want that? Why was everything so hard? ‘No. Let’s not. Thank you. I’ll just buy the next one, if that’s okay. A quick bite would be nice with company.’
They sat under the umbrellas and watched Piper play with a stand of coloured balls, then crawl importantly to steer a pretend ship with a bright blue Captain’s wheel. Every time the conversation flagged, Piper sparked a new discussion with some cute little parody of life in her determination to experience all that the colourful play area offered.
Trina could do with her enthusiasm. Considered that fact. ‘Babies should be compulsory on all outings. You could watch her all day.’
Finn laughed. Then, more seriously, said, ‘I do. She keeps me sane. Makes me get out of bed in the morning.’
Trina knew that feeling. ‘Well, you’ve certainly been busy since you got here. Your cottage is pretty in pink.’
‘Piper chose the colour,’ he said and then looked at her as if expecting her to laugh.
‘So she’s a pink girl. I can believe that. It looks good on her.’ Trina rested her cheek on her hand to watch his face, trying to understand why he should be so wary. ‘How did you get her to choose?’
‘I gave her swatches. I was hoping for blue but she took the pink every time.’
Too funny. Trina laughed. ‘Great idea. I can see that too.’ She looked at his face and his beautiful smile. She shook her head. ‘Her decision. You were stuck with it. Nothing you can do about that, then.’
He shrugged, his expression light and relaxed. It made her warm that he could be that way around her. ‘I’m used to it now. I’ve been learning to be a handyman. And quite enjoying the challenge.’
Handyman. Or woman. The bane of her life. She rolled her eyes. ‘Boy, have I had some repair challenges in the last two years? I’ve had to learn that too. Maybe I should paint my croft. Just yesterday I was thinking it looks very dark inside.’ She shut her mouth. Now, why did she say that? Almost an invitation for help.
Finn’s voice was light—lighter than her thoughts. ‘I can send Piper up if you like. To talk colours with you.’
Trina felt herself relax. He got it. Her expression had probably telegraphed the message that she’d regretted being so open. ‘I might take you up on that one day.’ She could hear the relief in her voice. Hoped he couldn’t.
They’d finished their roast beef sandwiches and iced coffee and Trina desperately needed some distance to think about the morning with Finn but the moment passed.
A commotion at the next table made them both turn. A woman had overturned her chair and the crash turned every head her way. She shook a small child hysterically. ‘Spit it out. Come on.’ She glanced around wildly. ‘He swallowed a button.’
The child gasped weakly, tried to cry and couldn’t find enough air to do so as he gulped and coughed. His face was tinged an alarming shade of blue as his mouth quivered.
Finn rose from their table and crossed the space in two strides. ‘May I? I’m a doctor.’ He didn’t wait long.
The woman sagged, nodded and, sobbing in panic, watched as Finn took the child from her. Trina had followed him and righted the woman’s chair and urged her back into it. Finn was a doctor. Wow. He’d said he wasn’t a vet.
Finn sank into the nearest seat and lay the little boy, head down, across his knees and patted his mid back firmly in slow pats.
Trina leaned towards him. ‘Can I help?’
Finn shook his head and concentrated on the boy. He patted again, then tipped him further. ‘Come on now, mate. Everything is fine. Cough it up.’
To Trina’s relief a sudden plop heralded the arrival of the button as it flew out onto the floor, initiating a collective sigh of relief from the entire café. And her. Wow. Calmness is us.
Finn righted the little boy and gave him a reassuring squeeze. Then he stood up with the exhausted child in his arms and passed him to his mother as if nothing had happened.
‘He’ll be fine. Just needs a minute to get his breath back.’ He rested his hand on her shoulder and spoke quietly into her ear. Trina couldn’t hear what he said but the woman nodded. Once. Twice. Glanced at the boy in her arms and squeezed him tighter. Then looked back at Finn with a vehement nod. ‘Thank you.’ The words were heartfelt.
Trina felt her eyes sting. Her heart still thudded from the spectre of a child choking to death in front of them all. She had no doubt everyone there had felt for the fear of the mother, though Trina would have liked to have given her a few pointers about first aid manoeuvres.
She glanced to where Piper played contentedly, oblivious to the drama she’d missed, and oblivious to the fact her daddy had quite possibly just saved a little boy’s life. Trina wanted to go home. She felt too emotional to be out in public. Though she suspected she would still be thinking about Finn even if she was away from him.
When Finn sat back down and the conversations around them had begun again she nodded towards the woman, who was paying her bill and leaving with her little boy hugging her leg as he waited.
‘Good job. What did you say to her?’ She didn’t mention he’d said he was a doctor. It didn’t matter what he was.
‘I asked if she’d seen what I did and, if there was a next time, to try that instead. That shaking didn’t help and was actually dangerous. That calm speaking would relax the oesophagus as well.’
‘I’m impressed. Discreet and direct.’ The guy did everything right. But she still needed to get away from the emotionally charged atmosphere. She collected her mask and towel from the ground beside her and pushed her chair back. ‘Before all the excitement I was about to leave. So thank you for lunch.’ She glanced at his daughter, who had apparently wrung every conceivable amusement out of the play area and looked to be ready to depart as well.
‘Maybe next weekend I could repay the favour.’ Piper wailed. ‘As long as Piper is free?’
Finn stood up to rescue his daughter. ‘I’ll look in her calendar and let you know.’
Their eyes connected for a moment, both a little bemused by the ease of their conversation. ‘That would be lovely. Thank you, Finn.’
‘Thank you, Catrina.’ He watched her again and she knew he didn’t want her to go. His approval circled her like a whisper of flame crackling and warming her around the base of her lost confidence. But the lure of time away from this new and challenging situation beckoned enticingly.
She stood and waved to the tiny girl. ‘Bye, Piper.’