Ask Me to Stay (8 page)

‘No doorman here, buddy,’ Dean said to Ethan.

‘Where do you think I live, Manhattan?’

‘I can only guess.’

‘Lithgow.’

‘Well, there you have it. My brother lives in Lithgow.’

Cal swore at the both of them.

Ethan blinked. ‘Nice to see you, too. What’s with the house? It looks like you’ve been robbed.’

‘Anna left.’

The crowd on the television roared and cheered. A football player pumped the air with his fist before his teammates surrounded him. The commentator’s voice pitched with excitement.

‘I’m sorry,’ Dean said. He didn’t ask when; Ethan could see he’d already guessed that. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

‘You’ve got your own stuff going on.’

‘Not so much that I don’t have time for you. She say why?’

‘Said I wasn’t enough.’

Caleb looked like a man overcome. Dark shadows circled his eyes, making him look bruised and drawn. His hair was flat on one side, tousled on the other. It looked like he hadn’t shaved since the bonfire. Empty beer bottles littered the coffee table. A blanket was crumpled on the floor by his feet.

‘Are you sleeping out here?’ Ethan asked.

Caleb looked up, his usually bright eyes bloodshot and flat. ‘My bed smells like her.’

Dean shifted in the armchair. He nodded. ‘Yeah, fair call.’ Rubbed his eyes.

Ethan pushed himself up and walked into the kitchen. More beer bottles. Broken glass in the sink. He pawed through the pantry and found three Styrofoam cups of noodles. As the water heated up in the kettle, he cleared the sink and filled the bin. He poured the boiled water between the cups, folded their lids back in place and pocketed three forks. It was an interesting balancing act, but he managed to carry all three back into the living room. Dean accepted one with thanks, Cal took his with reluctance.

Ethan knew how easy it was to turn from food when life kicked you in the guts, so he said, ‘Eat it, or we’re sleeping here too.’ He guessed that was why people brought food to wakes. The Fosters were still trying to mow through their freezer full of offerings, and people were still bringing dishes around for them. They hadn’t prepared a meal yet.

A blessing not at all disguised.

‘I had the ring in my pocket, you know.’ Cal laughed bitterly. ‘I had the ring in my pocket while she was ending it.’

‘Bitch,’ Ethan muttered.

‘It’s fine. I’m fine. I mean, I’ve been going to work. Sort of. I just . . . I had it all for a moment there.’

Dean raised a brow. Clearly he shared Ethan’s opinion of Anna – the woman had been a sulky little zombie. ‘How do you mean?’ he said.

Cal reached for a piece of paper. It had been folded and unfolded so often that it had torn in places. One corner was badly crumpled. He smoothed it.

‘This is, uh . . . a photocopy. It confirms the termination.’

Everyone was still for so long that Ethan jumped when Dean shot to his feet.

‘Oh,
hell
no!’ he bellowed. He stomped out of the room.

Moments later Ethan and Cal could hear the sound of sheets being stripped from the bed.

He shouldn’t have done it, but Ethan let Nina blacken out Anna in his new favourite photograph. Heads bent together, they tucked the permanent marker away in his drawer and snickered. They’d got home from Cal’s about twenty minutes ago and Dean was downstairs breaking the news to Sammy. Ethan hadn’t wanted to be there for that. Hadn’t felt he had the right. Despite how he felt about Sam, he was practically a stranger. And that news was too personal, too intimate to be shared around the likes of him.

How would Sam take it? he wondered. With a stiff upper lip, as always? Or would this be the lance that pierced her armour?

There was a whoop of glee from the upstairs living room down the hall. Rowan was playing a game on the TV. It didn’t require cords, just a handset that somehow knew if he was playing tennis well or not.

Ethan turned his back for a minute and technology made a fool of him. He shook his head.

Dean appeared in the doorway. Nina’s face became instantly guilty.

He narrowed his eyes at her, wondering, before he said to Ethan, ‘Your turn. She’s gone out front. I don’t know what else to say to her.’

‘What the hell am
I
going to say to her?’

‘I dunno. You do this stuff well. Tell her about hellos or something. I’ve got to put the kids to bed.’ He pointed at Nina. ‘And you, missy – what have you done?’

‘Nothing!’ she squeaked.

Ethan chuckled and lifted her from his lap. He bent close to her ear. ‘Remember the line,’ he murmured, and straightened.

Nina transformed. She clutched her hands together and looked up through her eyelashes. ‘We’re super sorry Anna’s gone.’

Dean looked amused. ‘Is that so?’

‘
Super
sorry.’

‘C’mere. I’m going to figure out what you did. I’ll tickle it out of you!’

Nina shrieked and dodged Dean’s approach. Ethan walked away, listening to the sounds of a family. However changed, however bruised this family was for the moment, it was still pretty wonderful.

Sam leaned against the boundary fence, bathed in the last light of the day. The gold of the sunset somehow softened her strength and highlighted her beauty, and it arrested Ethan’s steps. Her black hair looked so fluid he thought it might ripple if he touched it. It was a good thing, then, that his hands weren’t free. Arms loaded with things he had gathered from within the house, he walked to his ute. Reaching its side, he hauled his load into the empty tray.

She turned, roused by the noise.

‘C’mon,’ he called to her. ‘Come for a ride with me.’

She hesitated. He banged the cab of the ute playfully and her mouth curved. He opened the passenger door for her and squeezed her hand as she stepped in.

It was a short drive. He kept the windows down so that the air could reach her. If it were him, he’d feel like choking. So he tried not to close her in.

He pulled the car off the main road, circled an oak tree and angled the bonnet away from town. There were a few street lights, and little else. Above them the stars winked prettily, becoming brighter as the sky darkened. Headlights flashed past in the distance. The neon Foster’s Garage light turned its ceaseless circle.

He slid from the cab, stepped onto the back tyre and hoisted himself into the tray. By the time Sammy had got out, he’d spread a thick blanket over the metal floor and tossed two pillows near the back window. He unhooked the tailgate then held his hand out to her. She grinned. He helped her up and lingered on the touch.

She looked towards town, which was framed beautifully between two sky-reaching tree silhouettes.

‘What’s all this for?’ She looked back, up into his eyes.

‘You did this for me a long time ago.’

Thirteen years ago she’d stolen her dad’s truck and parked it right here. He would never forget the gesture, or what it had meant to him.

‘That was because you’d lost your parents.’

‘And now it’s because you’ve lost someone.’

She eased away from him and sank down to sit in the tray. She propped the pillow against the cab and leaned against it. ‘Anna —’

‘I’m not talking about Anna.’ He sat beside her. ‘I’m talking about the baby.’

Her answer was a single tear.

He reached for it and balanced it on his fingertip. ‘Tin Man, you’re leaking.’

She laughed. It seemed to surprise her. ‘Don’t call me that.’

‘I won’t. Not now that I know something
can
penetrate that thick metal of yours.’ He poked her shoulder playfully.

She swatted him away. Her smile slipped. ‘It’s wrong, you know? Cal deserves better. Cal’s such a good guy.’

‘Good things will happen to him,’ he assured her. ‘Better things than Anna could have ever offered.’

‘
She
was the Tin Man.’

‘She was a frickin’ zombie.’

Sammy snickered. ‘I hated watching them. He’d always reach for her and smile at her. And she’d give nothing back. It was like she just . . . endured him.’

‘I endure you.’

She laughed again. ‘No, you don’t. You don’t endure anybody.’

He wasn’t sure how to do this. Did he talk about Anna, about Cal, until dawn? Did he talk about himself? Was it a heart-to-heart she wanted, or a distraction?

He decided to ask her. Sometimes a guy needed to stop and ask for directions.

‘Are we dissecting it, or forgetting about it?’

She looked over at him. The street lights were like stars in her eyes. ‘Let’s forget about it for tonight.’

‘Deal.’ He reached around her and opened a small esky. Creaming soda and Coca-Cola cans covered in condensation came into view. She made a sound of delight and reached for the pink drink. She’d always loved it as a teenager, and it appeared the gamble had paid off. He took the Coke and sat back.

The sun slipped below the horizon.

They snapped the cans open. The sound rolled away from the car and was lost in the night. Nearby a disturbed owl hooted. Two possums bickered in a distant gum.

‘This trip’s changed you, hasn’t it?’ she said, her mouth pressed against the aluminium.

He dropped his head back and found comfort in the stars. ‘A bit. A lot.’

‘They’ve made you believe in family again, haven’t they?’

Shock and awe combined to make a potent cocktail in his bloodstream. She read him as easily as a cereal box. ‘What on
earth
makes you think that?’

She wasn’t deterred by his flippancy. ‘After your parents died you lost interest in everyone else’s parents. It’s like you stopped trusting them. You didn’t chat with my dad any more, you didn’t spare my mum a second glance. You tried to pull away from Dean but he wouldn’t let you. Even if he had to punch you in the face, he kept you by his side.

‘I saw these things. I watched you change. When things grew between us you only ever let them get to a point.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘If you thought for a
second
that I was starting to depend on you, you’d disappear for days. Which isn’t easy to do in a town this size. Even then I admired how well you could hide yourself.’ She ran her hands through her hair and tugged on the ends. ‘We were okay so long as I didn’t need you.’

‘Christ, are you serious?’

‘We were together for about two years. I had plenty of time to figure it out.’

Ethan Foster had not been a mystery at all. A teenage girl had seen right through him. And she had grown up into a fascinating woman who saw it all again.

‘What was the catalyst?’ she asked. She drained her can and tossed it near her feet. ‘Because something suddenly broke you, and for the life of me, I don’t know what it was. It’d been years since their deaths. You were doing okay in school. No one trusted you worth a damn because you always stalked about like you were up to something. But no
one
thing happened, you know?’ She swallowed. ‘I didn’t see it coming, Ethan.’

She didn’t rush him for an answer. He couldn’t even be sure if she expected one. But she’d waited long enough to ask, so he intended to make it worth her while.

He pushed his thumb into the can and bent the aluminium. ‘Do you remember the night before I left?’

He could see in her eyes that she did. They’d pitched a tent on one of the acreages near the farmhouse and camped beneath the stars. They had lain in the grass naked, made love in the moonlight. They’d made a game of explaining all the scars that riddled their bodies until she’d flattened her palm over his heart and asked about that one. He’d kissed her senseless, chased away the question with sensation and pleasure.

But what she didn’t know was that he’d almost told her.

‘I know you think you know —’

‘I do know.’

He tried again. ‘I know you think you know what happened to my parents, but you don’t. Which is good. Because I don’t want anyone to know. I
never
want Dean to know. It’s my cross to bear, do you understand? My burden to carry. And I’ve got stronger since then. I’ve learned how to hold it and live with it.

‘But I almost told you about it, that last night. I was almost so utterly selfish that I nearly handed it over. You were one of the most important people in my life. And I could have destroyed you.’

‘Ethan —’

‘No. That was when I realised who I was becoming. Perhaps who I already was.’ He sat up, needing distance from her. ‘Trust me, I did you and everyone else a favour.’

Sammy pushed away from the back of the cab and shuffled against his side. He stared at the neon sign in the distance, twisting and mocking him, as she settled her hands over his chest and back.

‘But you never did learn how to hold it and live with it. All you’re doing now is denying yourself all you’ve ever wanted. You want family. You want love. You want,’ she followed his gaze, ‘this town. You always have. Why won’t you take them?’

‘I can’t promise anyone anything, Sam.’ He’d never called her Sam before. He wondered if she’d noticed.

She swallowed, and seemed to rally herself. ‘Who’s asking for promises?’

He looked at her and fell into the depths of her eyes. ‘Everyone wants to be sure,’ he said softly. ‘Everyone wants to
know
.’

‘Know what?’

‘That tomorrow will be the same! That – that someone isn’t going to wake up one day and throw their hands in the air.’

‘But —’

‘That’s
in
me.’

Sam pressed her hand against his cheek. ‘That’s in all of us. We all have the capacity to snap under pressure. To change our minds. To give up. Those moments don’t define us, Ethan. What we do after those moments . . .’ She trailed off.

Ethan nodded, guessing what she’d left unsaid.

She covered her mouth with her hand. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘It’s true.’

‘But I shouldn’t have said . . .’

He narrowed his eyes at her and wondered. Was it possible that she truly
did
know what had happened to his parents? Her words had strayed too close for coincidence. And yet she sat here now, still at his side? She ought to run.

‘Ethan.’ Her fingers were on his cheek again. ‘You can’t hide from people because you’re afraid you’ll hurt them.’

‘But my father—’

She sighed and pushed herself up. She swung a leg over him, sat on his thighs and pressed a finger to his lips. Trapped, he couldn’t hide from what she said. ‘
You
are Ethan Thomas Foster. Ethan,’ she repeated. ‘Ethan.’

The night listened to the words that changed his life. The leaves stirred as if excitement shook them. Insects clicked and whirred.

He kissed her. It might not have been the moment, and perhaps she hadn’t meant to excite him, but her words afforded him courage. She tasted like a memory. The flavoured drink was sweet on her tongue and her lips were soft and slick, just as they had been the first time he’d kissed her.

He drew back, seeking permission for something he’d already taken. She stared at him a moment. Then eased against him again.

Her body was different. There were new curves, longer limbs. The last few years looked glorious on her. As his fingers travelled up the plane of her stomach he thought her better, more beautiful and infinitely more sensual than he remembered. He gripped under her arms, carefully lifted her and rolled her onto her back. He dragged a pillow under her head, and this made her smile.

He was heavy, and was careful to support his weight as he lay against her. With one hand he supported himself, with the other he explored the length of her thigh. She arched against him when he pressed against her hip and he thought he might go mad with need.

He nuzzled into the curve of her neck and tasted her there. Her skin was soft and urgently responsive to his every touch.

Her hands encircled his neck and she drew him closer. He returned his mouth to hers and it was she who deepened the kiss, who took and searched.

Whatever she wanted, he gave.

Birdsong stirred her. Sam opened her eyes to see a tiny finch balancing on the side of the tray. It lowered its head, chirped, danced from side to side, then winged into the sky. She blinked. There was a dead weight over her stomach. Her left side was warmed by the morning sun, her right by a hot-blooded man.

Something sharp and painful seized her insides.
Oh God
. Her eyes widened. An attempt to sit up failed. Thinking hard, she shimmied down, under the bridge of his arm and over the tailgate of the ute, to freedom.

Sam straightened very slowly. Absolutely buck-naked.

She promptly hunted for her clothes. Her bra and shirt had been tossed over the side of the ute and into the grass. She shook ants off them and shrugged them on. She stepped into her jeans, tugged her shoes out from under Ethan’s enormous foot, and stepped clumsily into them.

Her fingers curled over the edge of the tray, she gazed into Ethan’s face, serene in sleep.

And then she ran. Because Samantha O’Hara didn’t break down in front of anyone, least of all Ethan Foster.

She was what he’d made her – self-reliant, hard-edged, careful with her heart.

It was a shame, then, that she’d abandoned her better instincts in the heat of the moment. His hot breath on her face, her legs over his – everything he’d said and everything she knew had ceased to matter.