New Beginnings

CHAPTER 2

Alex was up early; sleep having eluded her for most of the night so using the early start she made a quiche and prepared a salad to go in the fridge for now. When Jack grumbled his way into the kitchen, she stopped what she was doing.

“You okay, bud?”

“Sure. I didn’t sleep so well, I guess I’m nervous,” he said as he slid onto one of the bar stools. Alex placed a bowl in front of him and three boxes of cereal.

“Nervous about what?”

“Blake coming here.”

“Hey, you’re the guy who confronted Blake Winchester in his own home.”

Jack lifted his shoulders and reached for the cornflakes, filling his bowl to the brim, and then doing the same with the milk. He paused before digging his spoon in,

“I know but what if he just pisses us off? What if he’s rude to you and upsets you?”

Alex pulled the oven door open and pushed the quiche inside, turning to face Jack after closing the door and setting the timer.

“You know, despite his performance at your tenth birthday celebration, Blake has some fine qualities. He’s not mean spirited, he sold his company in the US but he told me he wouldn’t sign off on it until he was sure his employees were going to be looked after,” she watched Jack’s frown relax, “And I see a quality like that in you, you’re kind and sensitive but I know you have confidence and drive and can stand up for yourself.”

Jack chewed his cornflakes slowly, looking up at her he said, “But what about you?”

Alex smiled at him, “Jack, I’ve known Blake since I was eight years old. I followed your Uncle Jack and Blake around like a lost puppy. They never told me to get lost, they let me go fishing with them even though I probably drove them nuts because I couldn’t bear to kill the fish I caught. Or shut up for that matter.”

“Really?”

“Really. But guess what? Blake could never kill them either.” The memory was bittersweet, Blake’s gentle kindness had drawn her in, making her feel safe and loved and she believed he loved her too. “So, eat up, have a shower and maybe you could tidy your room?”

“Why, is he doing a house inspection?”

Alex laughed, “No, but, well I don’t know, although it wouldn’t hurt to straighten things up a little.”

“Sure. I also forgot to put my cricket whites in the wash yesterday, so I’ll do that.”

“Don’t forget to spray the grass stains.”

Jack spooned the last of the cornflakes into his mouth and washed them down with orange juice, “I won’t,” he said as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

Some things did not change with boys, just like leaving your dishes on the breakfast bar, she got that and there was only so much nagging you could do. Perhaps Jack would have an epiphany of sorts when it came to at least getting the dishes to the sink. With the kitchen tidy, Alex slipped into her office and pulled out her phone. A phone call to her best friend, Marron, was necessary today.

“Hey girl, what’s happening?” Maron Huxley, best friend, wife, mother, and fashion designer chirped.

“You sound extremely bright today.”

“Don’t know why, just had to preach to both father and son that clearing your dishes off the bench does not occur by osmosis.”

“I hear you. I’m waiting for the epiphany, but it has been a looong wait!”

“I sound like a total nag but honestly it drives me insane,” Marron paused, and Alex guess she was sipping coffee, “Want to have lunch so we can complain about men in general?”

“I can’t. Not today.”

“Oh. Okay, is something going on?”

“Sort of. Well, yes.”

“You are the least indecisive person I know, so why are you sounding more than a little rattled.”

Alex took a deep breath, “Okay, so here’s the thing. Jack went to see Blake a few days ago.”

“Blake as in Bastard Blake?”

“The very one. I think Jack was a little disappointed by the turn of events but last night Blake called Jack and wanted us to meet him for lunch.”

“Do you want me to come and be your wing-woman?”

Alex gave a short laugh, “No. I’ve asked him to come here. He said he wants to talk. I didn’t sleep last night, got up at stupid o’clock and made a quiche and salad and after I finish talking to you, I’m making bread rolls.”

“Wow. Alex sweetie you need to relax and honestly, Jack could ride to Oneroa on his bike and pick them up for you.”

Why hadn’t she thought of that?

“God, you’re right, Maz. My head is just so messed up. All this time and I hear his voice and I don’t possess one brain cell.”

“Is his voice still as sexy?”

Alex sighed, “Yes,” she conceded, “I’m sure he looks spectacular as well. According to Jack, some woman called Tiffany arrived unannounced while he was there. She’s a model.”

“Have you looked at yourself in the mirror lately? You could easily pass for a model, Alex. You know what? I think you need an urgent intervention.”

“No, I’m good. I’ll have a wine, have a shower, send Jack for those bread rolls, have another wine.”

“Alex, it’s barely ten o’clock, you have to wait until at least eleven before you hit the wine.”

“Is that a new rule?”

“No. It’s a safety precaution especially for you. You need to keep your wits about you because when Bastard Blake strolls through the door, all smouldering looks and sexy voice, you are vulnerable, Alex.”

“Thank you, I think. Oh Maz, why does this have to be so complicated?” Her voice broke, in the same moment that a solitary tear roll slowly down her face.

“Alex, I know how much you loved him, and you have spent the best part of fifteen years convincing me you have nothing left in the tank for him but right in this moment – I’m not sure it’s done.”

Was she still in love with Blake? Was that why all her dating attempts had failed after the second or third date? God, she’d used Jack as the reason; that she was protecting him. But no, she had been protecting herself and what cost?

“I – I don’t know Maz. I guess I’ve gotten so used to putting my happy face on for Jack’s sake, projecting confident, positive Alex for my parents and somewhere along the line I’ve forgotten to include myself in the equation.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself, it wasn’t a crime to love him and I get it. Jack is so like him that separating the father from the son has been an impossible task.”

Taking a deep breath and giving silent thanks for a friendship that spanned twenty years, Alex said, “Okay. I’m now pulling up my big girls’ panties, I’m not opening the wine, instead I’ll have a strong coffee and I will have a soak in the bath and while I’m drying off, I will admire my model like body.”

“That’s the way. You can do this, Alex. You sure I can’t arrange an intervention?”

“I love you, Maz but I’ve got this, I’ll call you once he’s safely back on the ferry to Auckland.

Alex returned to the kitchen just as the oven timer was beeping. From downstairs she could hear the washing machine running through its spin cycle and she smiled knowing at least one of her requests had been met by her son. When she walked out onto the wooden deck, she saw Jack coming up from the beach. He stood under the outdoor shower and rinsed the salt from his body then disappeared inside.

“Hey,”

She spun around, “Good swim?”

“Yeah. Water’s quite warm.”

“Can you do me a favour?”

“If it’s about my room, I did sort of give it a tidy.”

Alex shook her head, “Nope. Not about your room but thank you for doing that. I was wondering if you could get some bread rolls from the bakery in Oneroa for me?”

He shrugged, “Sure, I’ll just get changed.”

Five minutes later she watched him retreat down the long drive to the main road on his mountain bike. Alex removed the quiche and set it on a rack to cool completely before running a bath and pouring in a generous amount of bath oil. Ear buds in, she slid into the warm, soapy luxury the tension that had built during the morning began to ebb out of her. She closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths, acknowledging that she needed to meditate more often. Opening the third Going Naked garden centre had taken up so much of her time but now that it was up and running, good staff in place, she could afford some down time. She took another deep breath and let her eyes close to Charlotte OC singing Where it Stays spilling into her heart.

Blake couldn’t settle. He’d been up before the sun, put himself through a gruelling run up to the summit of Mt Victoria then down and across to North Head and again up to the summit. A thirty-minute workout with a punching bag had done nothing to exorcise the memories of what his parents had done to Alex and Jack and had only left him with sore knuckles. A shower and some breakfast had failed to quell the rising tension. Again, he glanced at his watch then checked the ferry schedule, as if he didn’t know what ferry he would take. That was a no brainer because he’d checked the schedule after speaking to Alex. The walk down to Devonport wharf was all of five minutes but he figured the sooner he was underway the sooner he might manage to drill some calm into his body or mind or both.

In his study he pulled a manilla folder across his desk and opened it to reveal photos of Jack and Alex a private investigator had taken over the years. If anyone had asked why he did this, he wasn’t sure he could give a good answer. He felt responsible for the mess he’d left behind and for a long time he his preferred option had been to blame his parents. He hadn’t spoken to them for some time, he had told his father he was returning to Auckland but had made no effort to see them. He didn’t want to. Of course, they weren’t entirely to blame because he had to shoulder some of the responsibility for being weak and easily manipulated by them. He was twenty-three when Jack was born and he saw his son only once in the hospital despite knowing the Porters had lost their own son Jack only weeks before Alex gave birth. He abandoned the family who had provided the love and affection his own did not; they had encouraged him, urged him to aim high and he had simply turned his back on them. Blake slowly closed the folder. It was going to stop, and he hoped that today would be a new beginning although Alex had been frosty during their conversation the previous evening, so he knew he was on thin ice. He glanced at his watch, grabbed his keys, set the alarm, and made his way down to the wharf in the brilliant sunshine.

The ferry ride was only thirty or so minutes and, being mid-week, only a handful of passengers were scattered on the outer decks and inside. Once the ferry had passed the iconic cone of Rangitoto, Blake pulled out his phone and sent a text to Jack whose only reply was a short “ok.” The last time Blake had visited Waiheke was the weekend Alex had told him she was pregnant. Sixteen years. Once the ferry slowed to enter Matiatia Bay, Blake noticed some things were the same; boats tugging on their moorings, but the wharf had been modernised in keeping with the two companies who ran services to the island. Up on a hillside overlooking the bay was a low-slung home, sitting on prime land with views most people could only dream of. He had looked at property on Waiheke but what caught his attention was the sale of Motutawa Island, which lay just east of Waiheke.

At the top of the gangway Blake’s progress was halted by the sight of Alex leaning casually against her car. Dressed in leggings which showed off her long, slender legs and an oversized shirt she could have stepped off a fashion runway. He was screwed that much was clear. His pulse quickened as he walked toward her and by the time he reached her his heart was pinging around his rib cage like a tennis ball.

“Alex,” he murmured, suddenly awkward. Should he shake her hand, kiss her on the cheek or none of the above?

“Blake.” Her response was terse, she was as nervous as he was. She turned to open her door then hesitated, “Are you getting in or would you rather walk?”

He would get in if his brain would engage his legs to move,

“Sorry, of course. It’s just…” Just what? He was as clumsy as a sixteen-year-old on his first serious date and judging by her demeanour, dating was not on her mind. He moved to the passenger side of the SUV, noting the Going Native logo for the first time. The drive from the wharf to Cactus Bay took less than ten minutes but it was long enough for Blake to take in the absolute beauty of this small island, home to a resident population of a few thousand people. He saw the changes, Oneroa, the island’s busiest centre was now crammed with cafes and restaurants as well as shops.

“Lots of changes,” he murmured.

“You’re not wrong. Some have been a bonus, others not so much.”

“Environmental concerns?”

“Yeah, for a while all sorts of inappropriate development occurred.”

“But the brakes went on?”

“Well, it wasn’t easy. Money talks as I’m sure you know.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, not that I’m suggesting you would be that unscrupulous.”

“Wow, I’m flattered that you have an opinion of me that isn’t all bad.”

She turned to face him, flashing him a smile, the same smile he’d carried with him for fifteen years,

“Despite what you might think, Blake, I’m not the enemy, nor am I the witch your mother believes me to be.” She returned her gaze to the road in front of her, Blake noticed her hands tighten on the wheel.

“I haven’t seen them in five years. I let them know I was moving back to Auckland but nothing more.”

The car slowed and Alex turned into the driveway. Grandma Porter’s house was no longer a small holiday bach.

“Ever wonder what Grandma Porter thinks of this?” Blake asked.

“I’m sure she’s a little envious but also pleased to see we took so much care not to destroy the character of this place.”

“Your dad?”

“Yeah, he and Uncle Mike did the plans, permits and most of the building. Mum and Dad lived here while I finished uni then they moved back into the Devonport house.”

Alex brought the car to a stop and was out  before he’d unclipped his seatbelt. The front door of the house was open, reminding Blake that this was, for the most part, an honest society. Jack emerged from house and stood by his mother. Taking a deep breath, Blake stepped out of the SUV and approached them. Jack stuck his hand out and Blake shook it. Alex was already moving toward the house and in silence Blake followed Jack inside.

“Coffee or something cold?”

Blake followed the sound of Alex’s voice and found her in the kitchen where she was spooning coffee into a plunger. Jack was reaching into a cupboard and pulled down a glass.

“Coffee sounds good,” he replied.

“It’s nice out on the balcony if you want to sit out there,” Jack suggested while he filled a glass with milk and spooned in what looked like half a tin of Milo. Alex turned to face them both and frowned at Jack,

“You know, it would be good if a tin of that lasted more than two weeks,” she said.

“I think you need to buy a bigger tin, Mum.”

“Jack, that is the biggest tin available.”

Jack gave a nonchalant shrug, “What can I say? I’m a growing boy.” He grinned at his mother and she smiled at him,

“Sooner I get you married off the better, my growing boy.”

“Seriously? That would make me a child groom.” Another cheeky grin at his mother who then busied herself with the coffee, setting mugs, sugar, and milk on a tray with the plunger.

“Well, before we find you a bride, how about taking this outside?”

“Sure. Is there anything to eat, I’m totally starving.”

Alex rolled her eyes and entered the large walk-in pantry, emerging with a box,

“Will these keep you going until lunch?” she asked.

“Sweet! I didn’t know there were any left!” Jack looked at him,

“Mum is the best cook and biscuit baker. Come on, follow me.”

Blake followed his son out onto a large wooden deck with the most stunning view of the hulking outline of the Moehau Range in the distance and a cerulean blue sea. How had he never noticed this beauty when he stayed here as a kid? A large cantilever umbrella shaded a long teak table and bench which Jack slid onto after setting down the tray and Blake took the opposite side. How surreal was this? Sitting in this incredibly beautiful location with his fifteen-year-old son. Alex stepped onto the deck, setting Blake’s desire alight. Oh yes, he was well and truly screwed.