Ember Flowers (18 page)

As soon as she
turned into her driveway, a white shape by the house caught her
attention. Jo’s white sedan.

As she pulled
up, a figure sitting on her front steps became visible. The
policewoman was waiting for her. She was still in her uniform, must
have come straight from work. She reversed into her usual spot by
the house, turned off the ignition and got out. As she walked
closer she noticed Jo’s car door was open, the radio was on and
Annabelle was asleep on the back seat.

Her forehead
wrinkled in confusion as she walked over. Joanne stood up and met
her at the front steps. Her eyes were cool, a silvery grey.

“Did he
threaten you?” The policewoman was blunt. Not even a hello. A
question straight off the bat.

A shake of a
brunette head, her keys clinked in her hand. She stared at the
ground. “No Jo, he threatened you, and everyone I love. Which makes
it worse.”

The Sergeant
looked over at her sleeping daughter, turning away and releasing a
short string of expletives.

She turned to
Jean, her eyes were furious. “What did he say to you?”

The older woman
bit her lip.
Jo already knew. Owen must have said something to
her.

“He was
watching us, that time at the cafe. Somewhere nearby. That call -
he called me on my cell. Told me he’d take Annabelle away, that I
had to leave you alone. He was going to do something. It’s your
daughter Jo, I wasn’t going to argue.” Her eyes were downcast.
She’d hardly spoken to the woman since, had felt guilty every
day.

“Son of a
bitch.”

“Jo, tell me
what’s going on? Please? You should both come in.”


Huffing
angrily, Jo ran her fingers through her blonde hair, more pissed
off than she was before. She gentled somewhat when it came to her
daughter. She was still asleep. A couple of clips of the little
girl’s car seat and she was limp in Jo’s arms. The cars locked, and
favourite teddy recovered, they walked inside together.

A little
sleeping blonde head on Jo’s shoulder. The policewoman stood in the
hallway. “Jean, can I put her down somewhere?”

“Sure, hang on,
I’ll get the fire going.”

She led the
policewoman into the living room, pointing toward a soft leather
sofa. “I have a guest bedroom upstairs, but she might get
frightened if she wakes up with out you around.”

A blonde nod.
Jo knelt and laid her down on the soft dark leather, putting the
bear within easy reach. Jo brushed the hair out of her daughter’s
eyes. Jean crouched in front of the fire, striking a long match and
lighting the tinder. Once it caught she pulled the cast iron
surround in front of it. A hand lay on her shoulder, Jo stood
behind her.

“Jean?”

She stood and
faced her. Jo ran her fingertips over her cheek. The other hand
rested on the brunette’s side.

“You haven’t
been ducking me on purpose, have you?” Her eyes were both hurt and
hopeful.

Jean shook her
head. “Of course not. I just wasn’t going to put you in danger,
either of you.”

Jo pulled her
into a well needed hug, squeezing around her ribs. They stayed like
that for a moment.

“Good.” The
policewoman released her.

Gentle brown
eyes and a tentative smile. A soft kiss on the policewoman’s lips,
fingertips along her back. They pulled away. Jean kissed her
cheek.

“Want to tell
me what happened?”

Jo nodded,
following her into the kitchen.

***

A kettle
whistling, and some reheated pasta later, the policewoman was
giving an account of earlier events. The failed attempts at gaining
her favour, the questions that got him to all but spit it out. The
screaming match, her leaving. She’d picked up Annabelle on the way,
worried that Owen would turn up there and cause trouble. Her
mother, stubborn as she was, stayed with a friend tonight at her
daughter’s insistence.

Jo pushed the
remaining pasta around her plate, she’d picked up something for her
daughter on the way, but hadn’t eaten anything herself. Too
stressed, too angry.

“..And then I
came here. Which I now realise was a huge imposition on you.”

Jean reached
over and touched her wrist. “I told you, you were both welcome, I
meant it.”

A quiet sigh.
“Thanks. We just had to get away for a while. At least until I
figure out what to do.” Another little huff of annoyance as she
studied her hands. “My day off tomorrow..at least work would have
kept my mind off things.”

Jean took her
hand and laced their fingertips. Jo’s daughter looked up at them
from the kitchen doorway, having followed her mother’s voice.
Obviously tired, and now confused waking up in a strange place. Jo
extended her free hand, beckoning her over.

The older
woman’s hand was released for a moment while Jo settled her
daughter on her lap. Jo reached out again and resumed their
contact. It was a big step, even if it didn’t seem like much. Blue
eyes looked back at Jean, drowsy with the lateness of the hour.

“Stay.”

Grey eyes
looked up from kissing her daughter’s head.

“Stay.
Tomorrow.”

“Jean, I don’t
wanna impose, tonight is enough of an inconvenience on you.”

A gentle
squeeze of her hand. “Jo. Don’t go back there, not with him. You
know what you’ll find. Stay here tomorrow. Spend the day trying to
relax.”

“But?..”

“It’s all
right, really. You have a change of clothes, your car is here, and
I bet this little one has never seen a real horse before.
Right?”

A little pout
almost identical to her mother’s disappeared at the mention.
“Orse?”

Grey eyes
narrowed at her, but it was offset by the smile. “Now you’ve done
it.”

“Stay?” A
gentle brush of her knuckles.

A sigh, she was
never happy accepting a favour. “OK. But I’ll pay you back for
it.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

Jean didn’t
seem like she was going to budge, and Jo was exhausted. “Fine. But
I’m going to work something out.”

A weary smile,
a pat over her companion’s knuckles. She was getting tired herself.
“You do that Jo.”

***

Jo wandered
down the upstairs hallway in an old shirt and cotton pants, they’d
been hastily stuffed into her bag. Her long legs slightly too tall
for them. She’d brushed her teeth, and was on her way to the guest
room. She and Jean had talked for a little while, but both could
see how tired the toddler was. Mother and daughter would bunk
together in the spare bed tonight. Annabelle would be waking in a
strange place, an unfamiliar situation, the closeness would
reassure her.

Jo walked by
Jean’s bedroom door, it was partly open allowing through a crack of
light. Her friend was slipping on a ribbed tank, on top of pale
tartan boxers. Her firm lower back visible as she pulled down the
fabric. Jo felt quite taken by it, feeling compelled not to look
away, watching until her friend almost turned around. Her anger for
Jean’s abandoning her had dissipated the moment she’d seen the
woman’s face. It was clear that she was acting under duress. All
the usual warmth and connection between them was still very much
apparent.

Feeling that
she’d seen enough Jo gruffly cleared her throat and rapped on the
wooden door. Jean saw her through the gap and came over.

“Heading to
bed?” She opened the door and leant a bare shoulder against the
frame.

“Yes. She’s
almost asleep. You have her asking me about horses now.” Jo shook
her head, but she was smiling at the same time.

“Inquisitive?”

“Very.”

A pause. Jean
smiled. Jo’s toe was tracing the seam of a floorboard.
Distracted.

Jean reached
out to squeeze her hand. “Good night Jo. I’m working tomorrow but
I’ll see you before I leave.”

The blonde
nodded. “OK. I’ll be up.”

Jo turned on
her heel to leave, padding softly away. A hand on her shoulder made
her stop. She found herself hugged from behind, then released.

“Night.”

“Night.”

Chapter
27

The annoying
chime of the alarm clock ringing in her ears. A weary rub of her
eyes, and she set about getting ready. Showered, dressed and fresh,
she entered the kitchen to see Jo pouring her daughter some cereal.
She looked a little embarrassed.

“Sorry Jean,
she was hungry..I..” It must have left her feeling a little
vulnerable, Jo almost looked a little skittish.

The gardener
walked past her, smiling and shaking her head. “Don’t be silly, use
what you like.” She arrived at the refrigerator, taking down a
glass and pouring herself juice. She leant on the counter watching
the blondes.

“She has your
grin too, you know?” her eyes looking back and forth between
them.

A raised brow
“Don’t I know it, don’t be fooled, that cuteness gets used to her
full advantage.” A tweak of the button nose made her daughter
scowl.

Jean smiled,
gathering her things off the kitchen table. “Here, I’ll leave you a
key, in case you need to go out.” She plucked the machined brass
off the ring and handed it to her.

“Thanks.”

“I’ll be home
around six.”

A nod. “OK,
we’ll be here.”

The thought
made her genuinely pleased. “Good, because I want to hear about
your day when I get back.”

She blew the
blonde a kiss, and the little girl a wave and made for the
door.

After the door
closed with a soft click, and the car started outside, Jo looked at
Annabelle expectantly, her daughter smiled a little toothy
grin.

***

With so much to
explore, her toddler had first wanted to go outside. Pointing with
her little fingers at the moving colours and interesting shapes.
She’d been looking out of the kitchen window at the ranges and the
trees. Having not seen such varied golden landscapes in dreary
suburbia.

Jo ruffled her
hair gently and watched her run on ahead of her, putting the brass
key in her shirt pocket. She opened the solid wooden door with a
soft creak. It seemed everything Jean owned creaked. The thought
made her chuckle.

The yard
leading up to the house had no fence, dissolving down from a
gradual slope into a gravel drive extending out in a long grey line
toward the road. Trees scattered across the embankment in nature’s
haphazard order. As she looked out over the ranges the horses
snuffled by the fence. Leaning their long faces over the white
wooden planks.

She got the
toddler’s attention, showing her the colourful flowers by the
porch, bending the narrow sprigs so she could smell them. The
innocent wonder always made her feel good, seeing her little girl’s
eyes dance when she experienced something new and amazing. The
policewoman walked around the small manicured lawns, tended by
Jean’s hand. They explored along the cobblestone path, spent time
watching the birds from the porch under the eaves. Draping her long
legs over the cubed rattan and canvas outdoor furniture.

After patting
the docile two mares by the fence for what felt like the thousandth
time, Jo decided lunch might be in order. She walked through the
front door with toddler in tow. The living room with fireplace to
the left as she came in, she continued on down the hall toward the
kitchen. A tug of the cupboard brought the pantry open. Jo tsked
tsked.
Very unimpressive.

“C’mon sweetie,
we’re going shopping.”

***

Jean had given
her a rough idea of where the local stores were, and Jo found them
fairly easily after a ten minute drive. A shopping mall at the
junction of two major roads, curt by bush land and a sparse dotting
of homes in the distance.

With Annabelle
clapping as she sat up top, she pushed the trolley around the
grocery store. It was certainly one of her more relaxing days off.
She found a weight lifted off her shoulders whenever she came up
here. Maybe it was the clean fresh air, perhaps it was the way Jean
always put her at ease, made her forget her problems. She wasn’t
sure. Soon enough she had enough food for lunch and a later dinner,
along with a few other things to fill Jean’s cupboard.

Jo had come to
the assumption that the brunette wasn’t much of a cook, and from
looking at her cupboards, perhaps that she took a lot of her meals
before she came home from work.
Well
, Jo thought,
she’ll
appreciate an old fashioned home cooked dinner.

The policewoman
paid for her groceries, pushing the trolley through the checkout. A
store nearby caught her eye as she turned to leave. Glossy
photographs of women in their underwear took up the full length of
each window. Satin, lace, silk, bedroom eyes and luscious lips. She
looked at the images for a moment, they were all beautiful.
However, curiously, she found none of them attractive in that way.
Sure she could appreciate the smooth skin and curvaceous figures,
but her thoughts didn’t linger. Jo shrugged her shoulders.
Maybe
it was just Jean.
An outfit caught her eye on the rack. The
blonde ran her fingertips over the satin and lace.

***

Her daughter
sat drawing at the kitchen table as Jo put away the groceries.
Vegetables in the crisper, dry goods and sauces and such on the
shelves. After a moment she realised she didn’t hear Annabelle’s
burbling voice. She turned around, seeing the chair vacant behind
her.
She couldn’t have gotten far.

The tall blonde
followed the sounds of little footsteps, eventually ending up in
the living room. Her daughter was picking up pens she had seen on
the wooden coffee table.

“There you
are.”

The toddler
looked up and smiled with a cheeky grin. Jo ruffled her hair. She
looked around the room. The beech and hardwood made everything look
warm and cosy. A dark leather sofa and a recliner, the fireplace
next to the television. Pictures by the wall. Annabelle had
pattered back to the kitchen, pens in hand. Jo stopped to look at
the framed photographs interspersed with ink drawings of birds and
flowers.