Ember Flowers (25 page)

“Yeah. Doesn’t
even need me. She’s my kid, Jo should have come to me first..”

Roy smirked,
thinking. “Jo’s protective right?”

Owen grimaced.
“Like a fucking bear.” He remembered their fights, the catalyst of
her leaving him. Since then she’d been wary of anything he did,
allowing only short visits with their child. Only because he was
fiercely adamant he’d never harm her.

Roy sipped his
beer. He liked Joanne, but he and Owen went way back. Before the
academy, before the couple even met. He remembered being at the
event where the spark had lit. Joanne had played coy, but Owen had
been persistent. Eventually she’d fallen for his charms, agreed to
dinner.

The rest was
history.

The bottle sat
back down on the table with a soft clink.

“Tell Joanne
Annabelle told you something, said something to you. Make her
doubt. The rest will work itself out..You’ll see.”

Chapter
35

Jo smiled as
she blew up another brightly coloured balloon, tying it with pink
ribbon to the others waiting on the counter. Her daughter’s second
birthday, a party planned at her mother’s home.

Streamers and
little bags of candy and toys had been made up, by lunchtime the
little guests would arrive. Kerry and her son Ben, other kids from
day care and the neighbourhood. A forest of three foot terrors. Her
mother had put on a strong pot of tea.

Gifts were
already wrapped, Jo decided to take a break, pulling down a china
cup from the set in the cupboard.

Her mother
Pamela joined her in the kitchen, the older woman in her early
fifties. A caramel coloured blouse over cream slacks, painted
toenails and blonde bobbed hair tied in a loose bun. An older
vision of Joanne, sea green eyes instead of grey, a casual grace
from a cultured, wealthy upbringing. Always meticulous in her
appearance, a trait that her daughter had adopted early on.

“Pour one for
me please Joanne.” Her mother smiled as she looked over their
preparations so far.

Her daughter
tilted the teapot, pouring a mild aromatic liquid into two cups,
she handed one to her mother, who took it with a demure tilt of her
head. Tall mother and daughter smiled at each other.

“I wish your
father could have met his grand daughter, he would have spoilt her
rotten.” The older woman mused, sipping her tea.

Jo smiled
sadly, her memories seeping through. “Yes. A regular Bonnie and
Clyde. She gets away with enough as it is.” The thought made her
chuckle, her father’s gentle jovial manner was far removed from her
mother’s primness. Sometimes she wondered if she ever measured up
in her eyes.

She had
encouraged Joanne from her teen years to find a wealthy provider,
and latch on like a steel trap. Had been baffled when Joanne went
into police work. Her daughter had just shaken her head, more
concerned about love, and freedom, for all the good it did her with
the way things worked out.

The policewoman
checked her watch. Another fifteen minutes and Annabelle’s father
would be arriving with her daughter. Hopefully things would be
civilised. They’d agreed to tolerate each other for a couple of
hours to celebrate for Annabelle. Her mother hadn’t been fond of
the idea. Seeing dark bruises on her daughter once was enough to
foster a keen hatred for the man. Since then, he hadn’t done
anything to endear her judgement.

Pamela softly
cleared her throat as she sipped. “Darling, do you know anything
about a John, or a Gene?”

The younger
woman felt the blood drain from her face. “..Why?”

Her mother took
another sip of her tea, looking around the kitchen. “Your daughter,
she’s been telling me about spending time with them, something
about horses and cartoons?” The older woman smiled, Annabelle was
difficult to understand sometimes, not quite grasping certain
phrases. It was forgivable, she had only turned two.

Jo studied her
cup. “Jean. She’s a friend. She owns a property up in the ranges,
Annabelle and I visit sometimes when I need a break.”

Her mother
smiled. Sometimes it was difficult for her daughter to form
friendships. It had started in high school, her looks had made her
popular, but the cliques were often hollow and false. Jo hadn’t
kept up contact. “That’s lovely dear. An associate of yours?”

The daughter
grinned to herself, rubbing her own arm in an embarrassed gesture.
“Not exactly. Funny story actually. I rear ended her on the
freeway.”

Her mother’s
green eyes widened, shaking her head. “Your driving was always a
subject of concern Joanne.” She teased. “Was the poor woman all
right?”

Jo snickered to
herself. “Yes, she was fine. My Ford wasn’t though. Three thousand
dollar bill, lucky I was insured.” Wincing.

Her mother
chided her with an exasperated sigh, looking at her daughter’s pink
tinted cheekbones. A loud triple chime of the doorbell, her mother
rolled her eyes. “Your husband is here.”

Jo groaned
inwardly. She would press him again to finalise the divorce, but
that would have to wait. She made her way down the hall, her pale
summer dress swishing, cork sandals tapping over the tiles.

Owen was
standing there with her daughter tugging at his hand. Weekend
attire, a loose t-shirt and jeans over sneakers. He regarded her
through his sunglasses. “Jo.”

“Hello.” She
held the door open, smiling down at her bouncing daughter who was
full of beans and sugary treats. The duo entered, Annabelle running
down the hall to greet her grandmother, who stood with crossed arms
observing them from the doorway. Her face softened when the little
girl ran over for a hug. She looked up, barely acknowledging Owen’s
presence.

“Happy birthday
darling. Come dear, we have lemonade, would you like a lemonade?”
Pamela led the toddler into the kitchen. Jo huffed softly,
gesturing for Owen to follow her out into the yard. They crunched
over the lawn. She offered him a soda from the ice chest as he sat
down. He took it, snapping back the tab with a pressurised hiss
before looking around. Her mother’s garden was maintained once a
fortnight, the older woman liked to enjoy the blooms but not dirty
herself mowing the lawn.

Small talk
before parents and guests arrived. “How are things at the
station?”

He brushed
something off his leg, lifting his sunglasses to rest over his
short buzzed hair. “Fine. You?”

She ran her
fingertips over a hanging plant on her mother’s gazebo. “Busy.”

He snickered.
“I bet.”

She gave him a
pointed look. “Don’t start.”

He waved his
hand at her. “Yeah yeah. I get it. I’ll be nice.”

Jo sighed,
sitting down across from him in a deck chair. He watched her move.
“Jo, we need to talk later. I’m serious.”

Not this
again.
“About?”

“Our kid, and
what’s going on.” His handsome jaw set firmly.

She gave him a
confused look, they were interrupted by a high feminine voice.
“Hello? Jo?”

She smiled,
walking over and unlocking the gate. Kerry’s smiling face appeared
through the gap. “Hi Jo. Where’s the birthday girl?” Her son Ben
stood beside her leg holding a colourful gift.

The blonde
woman smiled, Kerry looked past her, waving cautiously at Owen.
“She’s inside with Mum. Come on in.”

***

Within the hour
the backyard was a frenzy of running children and torn wrapping
paper. Annabelle enjoyed being the centre of attention, running
around the lawn chased by a noisy pack of playing children. Her
mother watched on, leaning against the gazebo with a smile. Jean
had texted her wishes for the girl earlier in the day,
understanding her presence would make things awkward. Jo had
relayed the sentiments to the toddler, who had insisted on talking
to the older woman. She succumbed to the child’s whims, dialling
Jean’s number. Hearing her lover ask the child about her day, what
presents she had received. Telling her she would have a cake ready
next time she saw them. Jo had ended the call with a smile, Jean
had been sweet, adding that she missed her. It had only been a week
since they’d been together last.

A crunch over
the lawn and Kerry stood beside her, offering her a fresh soda,
seeing her own was running low.

“Seems to be
having fun.” Kerry mused, watching her son Ben playing tag, a cape
over his shoulders.

Jo just
smiled.

“So how are
things with you?” Asked Jo’s friend softly. She looked over at
Owen, who was out of earshot. Assembling a toy with a screwdriver,
reading instructions spread over the outdoor table.

“I’m good.
Great, actually.” The blonde smiled, Kerry gave her a grin full of
mischief.

“It wouldn’t
have anything to do with a certain gardener, would it?” She
broached softly, Jo took a deep breath in response. It took her a
while to look at her, the grass by her feet seemed engrossing.

She was
wincing, brows furrowed. “It might. Listen..please don’t..”

“Say anything?”
Kerry finished her sentence as the worried grey eyes implored her.
The shorter woman touched her arm. “’Course not.”

Joanne sighed
softly in relief. “Thanks.” They were alone together for the most
part, the other guests were talking around the table.

“So what’s it
like?” Kerry’s voice hushed as they looked on.

The tall blonde
shot her a peculiar look and a raised brow.

Kerry smirked.
“No, not that. I mean, is it different? Dating her? How long have
you been seeing her?”

Jo smirked
back, resuming her thoughtful gaze at the ground. Kerry’s gentle
tone made her feel a little more comfortable. “One question at a
time. It is different, she’s very thoughtful, supportive. How long?
Hm. A few months maybe?”

The short
brunette nodded. “Well, Jo, just so you know. I like her. She makes
you happy, so I’m happy for you.”

The policewoman
smiled. A genuine smile. “Thanks. Maybe I will ask her over more
often?”

A gruff voice
cleared its throat nearby. Owen nodded at Kerry, then touched
Joanne’s arm. “Can we talk?” It seemed polite enough.

Her eyes
narrowed. “Sure.” She motioned for him to follow. A short trip
inside, passing her mother in the kitchen, who gave her son in law
a wary glare.

Jo closed the
door to the guest room, a light bright space where they usually
stayed. A sofa bed for Annabelle neatly folded away, a single bed
for her with a floral quilt. She sat down lady like on the foot of
the bed. Owen joined her, sitting across on the sofa. He clasped
his hands together, releasing a held breath as he stared at the
carpet.

Jo looked at
him expectantly. He looked at her and his brows furrowed.
“Jo..Annabelle told me something yesterday. I don’t think you’re
aware of what’s going on.”

She huffed
softly, her expression agitated. “What did she say?”

He leant back,
crossing his arms. “Well, she doesn’t always make a lot of sense
but..I think she was trying to tell me about that woman.”

The blonde felt
an eye roll coming on, but she kept it to herself. “We see her
sometimes. And?” She was expecting a fight, but instead he was
staying deathly calm.

He grimaced.
“Are they ever alone together, I mean, do you watch her?”

Her brows drew
together. “I’m always there. I had to leave for a while last week,
I told you - the bust. Otherwise, I’m there all the time. Why?”

Owen looked
visibly uncomfortable. “I think there’s something going on Jo. I
think she was trying to tell me that woman touched her.”

She growled
under her breath.
Impossible. Never.
“You..must be confused.
They get along like a house on fire. Jean would never do that.”

He looked away,
his lip twitched at her words. He restrained himself. “How would
you know? Like you said, you weren’t there all the time.”

She rested her
hands on her knees, gripping them tightly. “She’s not like that
Owen. She loves kids.”

“Probably a
good liar. They seem ordinary, until you find gigs of rubbish on
their computer. Like I said..maybe she was using you?”

She shook her
head.
No. Not Jean. She saw no evidence of anything other than
affection for her daughter. Jean spoilt her, listened to her, made
time and effort in making her feel comfortable. Even taking on
responsibilities that weren’t her problem. There was no abuse, he
had to be confused. He had to be wrong. He had to be lying. It was
a rich accusation coming from him, vivid memories of the bruises
made by his anger.

Jo shook her
head. “Look. Owen. I’d know if something was going on. But it’s not
OK? I trust her, Annabelle must just be...”

He threw his
hands up in the air dramatically as he stood, he had expected
resistance. “Fine. Don’t believe me. I’ll go get her. She can tell
you herself.” He moved abruptly. She was left alone with her
thoughts. Jo studied her nails. She didn’t want to believe it. She
knew Jean, it had to be another one of his games. The door opened
again, her daughter bounded through, clambering up Jo’s long leg.
She settled her on her lap, Annabelle waved a streamer in her face,
smiling ear to ear.

Jo looked at
Owen with a thin look of annoyance, he got his daughter’s
attention.

“Annabelle,
tell Mummy what you told me?”

The blonde
toddler looked at her father, then up at her mother’s grey eyes. He
had spent almost an hour telling her what to say. Now it seemed as
though she had no idea what he meant.

He growled
softly. “Annabelle. Tell her about Jean. Tell her what you told me
yesterday. Like we talked about. Tell your mother what she did.” He
prompted her with his eyes.

Jo looked down
at the little girl in her arms. She flicked one last annoyed look
at the girl’s father. Her face softened. “Honey. This is very
important. Did Jean do anything to upset you?”