Weekend with
Lucy
It
should have been a restful Saturday morning.
After a tough week at work, Abby always looked forward to her weekends, and
spent them catching up on books, movies and rest. But not this weekend. This weekend, her life was not her own. It belonged to her four year old niece Lucy,
and Lucy’s small, brand-new puppy, Bozo.
It was a measure of Abby’s love for her sister Claire that she had spent
most of her time since they’d arrived cleaning up puddles, soothing whimpering
and pouring odd-looking food into bowls.
And that was just for Lucy.
It
was not possible to leave either of them alone for more than thirty
seconds. Bozo, who Abby was starting to
think had some serious psychological issues, turned into a small, furry vandal
if she took her eyes off him, and had already destroyed a potted plant, three
magazines, a pair of panties from the laundry basket and half a sofa
cushion. He had also done untold damage
to the bottom of the curtains in the lounge room, to a mat in the laundry
(where Abby had foolishly attempted to shut him the night before), his expensive
cane basket, and Abby’s nerves.
His
efforts paled into insignificance beside Lucy’s, however. Lucy, who had always seemed a delightfully
precocious child before, had metamorphosed, on this, her first sleep-over with
her Aunty Abby, into a small, demanding fascist with the sort of manipulative
skills that would have put Machiavelli to shame and a vocabulary that made Abby
wonder exactly what sort of kindergarten her niece was attending.
“I
don’t like honey,” Lucy was now saying.
“It’s shit.”
“No
it’s not,” Abby replied reasonably.
“It’s very nice. And that’s not a
nice word, Lucy.”
”Shit, shit, shit,” Lucy said defiantly.
She bounced down off her chair and took off for the living room. “Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit,” she
sang-shouted as she ran. Bozo barked along in accompaniment, alternately
snapping and falling over her feet as he ran with her, undoubtedly swearing in
doggie language. Abby sighed. Lucy had honey all over her chubby little
hands and there was no doubt at all that she would wipe those chubby little
hands all over the sofa, the curtains, the carpet and anything else that could
be permanently stained. Abby had already
decided that she was going to have to get cleaners in after this weekend. Either that, or move. And not tell her sister her new address.
She
tidied up, listening constantly for any increase in noise that would indicate
that Lucy and Bozo were turning on each other.
Not being a mother herself, and despite being twenty-eight, having had
surprisingly little to do with children, she was not to know that silence was
much more ominous than noise.
Consequently, it came as a very rude shock to her when she walked into
her living room, her “loving Aunty smile” pasted on her face, and saw what had
happened to the wallpaper and the lamp and almost all of the skirting
board. Abby took a deep breath.
”Where did you get the red crayon, Lucy?” she asked.
“I
brung it with me,” Lucy replied, her angelic little
face beaming. There was red crayon on
her face, too. And in
her blonde hair. “Mummy said I
could make some special pictures for you.”
”What a nice idea,” Abby said, wondering how best to repay her sister. “But for now, I need you to give Aunty Abby
the crayons and to come with me so we can wash your hands and face.”
“I
already washed my hands,” Lucy protested, horrified at the thought. “Two times!” Washing was not her favourite occupation.
“That
was before you had breakfast,” Abby pointed out. “And after you’d been to the toilet,
remember? Now you have to wash them to get the crayon off.” Lucy looked unconvinced.
“Bozo
can come too,” Abby said, bending down to pick him up. Tiny puppy teeth dug immediately into her
fingertips and he wriggled around in her grasp.
She tucked him firmly under her arm.
He was a ten week old terrier, and he was not going to win. Lucy, on the other hand, was made of tougher
stuff. Not wanting a repeat of the
previous night, when she had foolishly carried Lucy in bodily and had been
treated to a performance of betrayed tears for almost an hour afterwards, she
bribed her in this time with two chocolate biscuits. Bozo did his best to get the
Her
niece’s hands and face washed and dried, Abby looked longingly at her shower
cubicle. Then she looked down, at the
little girl and puppy playing happily on the bathroom floor. Well, why not? She shut the door and locked it.
“Aunty
Abby is going to have a shower now,” she said.
Lucy smiled up at her, the model of a Botticelli
angel. Her big blue eyes were round and
soft, rimmed by long, curling lashes.
Her pink cheeks had dimples in them.
Abby’s heart almost melted. How
could she have been thinking such nasty thoughts about such a lovely little
girl?
“Are
you going to get nuded?” Lucy asked. Abby swallowed.
“Yes,”
she said. “So you just play with Bozo
and I’ll be as quick as…”
”I’ve seen Daddy nuded,” Lucy said. “He’s got a bigger willy
than Joshua.” Since Joshua was Lucy’s
three month old baby brother, this was not a major endorsement for the
endowments of Abby’s brother-in-law John.
“He’s
a lot taller than Joshua too,” Abby said tactfully. She took off her thin summer dressing gown,
went to hang it up, then decided not to. “Do you want to look at the teddy bears on
this, Lucy?” Her niece smiled again and
reached up for it. The gown had tiny
embroidered teddy bears all around the hem, and Lucy loved it. This did not stop her from looking up as Abby
pulled her nightie over her head, though.
“Daddy
said you’ve got big knockers,” she said conversationally. Abby’s hands went immediately over the
objects in question. Oh did he?
“That’s
not a nice word either,” she said, forgetting her earlier lesson in the
kitchen. “The proper name is “breasts”,
Lucy.”
”Well Daddy told Mummy you have big knockers,” Lucy said defiantly. “And he doesn’t know what’s wrong with the
men you work with.” Abby sighed as she
stepped into the shower cubicle.
Honestly, if Claire and John didn’t stop trying to marry her off, she
was going to kill them. An alar
She
looked out of the shower cubicle.
“It’s
probably best if Bozo doesn’t eat that soap,” she said. “It might make him sick.”
”But he likes it,” Lucy said, still holding it out to him, and giggling as the
puppy’s soft fur tickled at her palm.
She looked up. “You’re nuded,” she remarked, gazing with interest. Abby withdrew into the shower cubicle
quickly. She didn’t like having an
audience, but there was no way she was leaving the two little terrors outside
on their own. They’d destroy the house.
She
had a much quicker shower than normal, quickly scrubbing the soap over her long
limbs and slim curves. And big knockers,
she thought to herself. John was going
to pay for that. She decided her
shoulder-length blonde hair could survive another day without a wash, and she
eschewed her usual shower gels and lotions.
She rubbed some cleanser onto her smooth face, washed it off and stepped
out, reaching for the towel. Lucy and
Bozo both looked up, identical interest in blue eyes and brown eyes.
“Good
girl,” Abby smiled, mostly with relief.
All of the bathroom fixtures were still in place and Bozo hadn’t
defecated anywhere. Life was good. She dried off fast, trying not to feel
uncomfortable under the unwavering scrutiny of the two small creatures. “Now, I’ll just get dressed, and…oh no!” Bozo was making unmistakable gagging,
retching noises.
“How
much soap did he eat, Lucy?” she asked, picking her dressing gown up off the
floor and putting it on. The tie for the
gown had been lost a long time ago and it had no buttons, so she just wrapped
it tightly round her as she scooped up the puppy, unlocked the door and
ran.
She
made it to the back door just in time, opening it and almost throwing him out
onto the grass, where he proceeded to vomit soap, bubbles and his breakfast in
alarming quantities.
“Bozo!” Lucy squealed, trying to push past her aunt.
“He’ll
be all right,” Abby said, hoping she was right.
Soap wasn’t poisonous, was it? She
held on to Lucy, motivated by visions of Bozo being sick all over the little
girl’s pretty pyjamas, and of her having to wash them.
“Bozo!” Lucy wailed, wriggling to get free. Abby sighed.
The puppy appeared to have stopped heaving.
“Don’t
touch the sick-up,” she said to her niece as she let her through. Lucy bounded to Bozo, pulling him onto her
lap and rocking him as she hugged the life out of him.
“I’ll
just get him some water,” Abby said, turning back to the laundry sink to pick
up his bowl.
As
she was turning the water off, she heard Lucy’s voice, from a lot further away
than just outside the door.
“Hello,”
she was saying. Who was she talking to?”
”Hello,” said a man’s voice in reply.
Abby chewed her lip. It was Rob
Harper, her next-door neighbour. Her new next-door neighbour who had asked her out for a pizza the
week before and asked her out again this weekend. Her new next-door neighbour
who she’d said no to on both occasions because she didn’t need the complication
of a relationship right now.
Particularly not with someone who lived right next door. Particularly not in that
house.
“What’s
your name?” Rob asked.
“Lucy,”
she replied. “What’s yours?” Abby could hear every word through the open
door.
”I’m Rob,” he said. “And what’s that
fellow’s name?”
”He’s Bozo,” Lucy said proudly. “Bozo just throwed up.”
”I saw that,” Rob said.
“Aunty
Abby throwed him out the door first,” Lucy said
bitterly.
“I
saw that too,” Rob replied. Abby blinked,
looked down. Her robe, no longer held
closed by her arms, was gaping open. It
had been closed when she opened the door and put Bozo out, hadn’t it? Oh sweet heaven, she hoped so.
“He
ate soap,” Lucy said.
“That’ll
do it,” Rob agreed. “So, she’s your
Aunty, is she?”
”Yes,” Lucy said. “And Daddy says she
has big knockers.” Abby gasped, closed
her robe and went to the door, not looking out.
“Lucy!”
she called. “Come back in now.”
”I’m talking to Rob,” Lucy yelled back.
“Come
back in!” Abby tried again. Nothing
happened.
“You’d
better go,” Rob advised. “You don’t want
Aunty Abby to get mad.”
”Aunty Abby doesn’t get mad,” Lucy replied confidently. “Aunty Abby loves me.” Aunty Abby sighed. And smiled. Yes, she did, despite everything.
“I
saw her nuded,” Lucy added. Abby’s smile disappeared. That was it.
“Lucy,
you come here RIGHT NOW!” she called out.
Nothing happened. Right. She couldn’t
just stand here while Lucy went on like that.
She closed her gown firmly and walked out, doing her best to ignore the
grin on her neighbour’s face. He was
hosing his garden, on the other side of the white picket fence that ran between
their properties.
“This
is Rob,” Lucy performed introductory duties with aplomb.
”I know Rob,” Abby replied. “And you
should call him Mr Harper, Lucy,”
”He said he was Rob,” Lucy objected.
“It’s
okay,” Rob assured the
“We
need to go inside now, Lucy,” Abby said.
She held out her hand, keeping the other one clamped over her robe. Lucy shook her head, face mutinous and blonde
curls bouncing.
”Don’t wanna,” she said. “Me and Bozo wanna
stay here and talk to Rob.” Well that
wasn’t going to happen.
“It’s
okay,” Rob said again. “I’ll keep an eye
on them.”
“Thank
you, but no,” Abby said, which was exactly what she’d said both times he’d
asked her to go out.
Glancing
over at him, she had to remind herself why.
He was tall and well-built, he had an open,
friendly face and a cheeky grin, green eyes and an unruly mop of dark brown
hair. She knew he had a landscape design
business, that he was thirty-two and unmarried.
It was just bad luck that he was living in the same house Neil had once
occupied. Unreasonable though it was,
that made him unacceptable. Neil had
broken her heart in that house.
“Come
on, Lucy,” she said, wiggling her fingers.
Lucy ignored her. With a sound of
annoyance, Abby bent to pick her up, turning her back on Rob and reaching for
her with both hands. For once, she moved
fast enough to catch her before she took off, but it was a near thing.
“You
don’t have a bras on,” Lucy observed as she was picked
up into her aunt’s arms. Rob made a
sound somewhere between a choke and a laugh.
Abby chose to ignore her.
“Where’s
Bozo?” she asked, looking around. “Oh
good grief, where is he?” She was
looking everywhere. There were too many
places for a small puppy to hide in her back yard, with bushes and flowering
shrubs everywhere.
“He’s
here,” Rob laughed, looking down the fence line. “He’s found a hole under the fence and
squeezed through. Come here, Bozo,” he
clicked his fingers and the little dog ran straight to him, something he hadn’t
once done to Abby. Rob picked him
up.
”You’re very cute,” he said. Lucy
laughed as she watched the puppy licking at Rob’s fingers. Then she returned to the matter at hand.
”You don’t have a bras on,” she said again to Abby.
“Of
course I do,” Abby snapped. “Thanks,
Rob. I’ll take him now.” It was only because she was reaching out with
the hand that wasn’t holding Lucy on her hip that the little girl was able to
do it. Abby should have guessed that she
would, though. Lucy did not like being
corrected.
She
wrenched at the sides of her aunt’s gown as Abby leaned forward, ripping them
apart triumphantly.
”See?” she crowed. “No bras! You’re a fibber!” Abby’s breasts bounced out, fully on display and
almost impaled on the points of the picket fence. Rob, after a quick, disbelieving look, did
the gentlemanly thing and turned away, but he could do nothing to suppress the
broad grin on his face.
“Lucy!”
Abby squealed, pulling the gown closed over her chest again. “You don’t do that!” Lucy’s face crumpled and for an instant
looked as if she was about to let fly with tears. She recovered.
“Daddy
says you have big knockers,” she said for the fourth time that morning. Rob had got his grin under control, but it
almost escaped at that point. He turned
back, his eyes meeting Abby’s sympathetically.
“Knockers
are breasts,” Lucy informed him seriously.
“I’ll
try to remember that,” Rob said. Abby
did not trust herself to speak.
“Joshua
sucks on Mummy’s breasts,” Lucy went on.
“Joshua
is Lucy’s baby brother,” Abby felt that she had to say.
”I did wonder,” Rob said. “Here,” he went
on, lifting the puppy up to hand him over.
Abby tucked the loose edge of her thin robe under Lucy’s leg and reached
out again to take him.
“Aunty
Abby has teddy bears,” Lucy said, knowing that something was wrong and wanting
to make amends. “They’re really
pretty. Look.” She bent double, almost braining herself on
the fence, and yanked up the hem of the short gown. “See?”
Rob, looking down automatically, did indeed see. He didn’t, however, only see the embroidered
dark blue, red and gold teddy-bears. He
saw what had been revealed by Lucy parting the robe from the waist down. He didn’t see it for long,
however, as Abby slammed her hand down to close it again.
Mortified,
her face burning, she forced herself to meet his eyes again. She glared, daring him to say something. Just one thing about the carpet not matching
the drapes, or her not being a natural blonde.
Just one thing, and she would kill him where he
stood.
“There’s
not a jury in the land would convict you,” he said,
his face straight but his green eyes full of laughter. She wondered if he’d read her thoughts.
”Of what?” she asked.
”Murdering her,” he replied. “Now, do
you want to take her inside and come back for this little mop?”
”And leave her on her own?” Abby asked.
“Are you mad? Do you know what
she can do on her own?”
“See,
this one has a flower,” Lucy said, trying to drag the conversation and
attention back to herself by dint of the embroidered
teddy bear she was still clutching between her hands. Abby had closed the gown, but Lucy was still
holding the hem, displaying a lot more of Abby’s thigh than she was comfortable
with, but nothing else, thank heavens.
“It
certainly does,” Rob agreed, looking down, but not at the teddy bear that was
being pressed against the fence for his edification. Nice legs Abby had, he was thinking. Very nice legs. And a very, very thin gown. He distracted himself by bending down and
snapping a pink daisy off in his fingers.
“Here,”
he said, presenting it to Lucy. “For you.” Lucy
dropped the hem of the gown and reached for it, her blue eyes wide.
”What do you say?” Abby said automatically.
She’d heard Claire say it so many times.
“Thank
you,” Lucy said. She took it, then pursed her lips.
Rob looked at Abby.
“She
wants to give you a kiss,” Abby said.
She leaned in, as did Rob, and Abby planted her lips on his cheek in a
loud kiss. He took the opportunity the
closeness afforded to pass Bozo to Abby, and when she stepped back, she had
both little terrors firmly in her arms, their little war
“Thanks,
Rob,” she said, turning away. And that
would have been it if two unexpected things hadn’t happened at once.
Firstly,
Bozo spotted the pink daisy clutched in Lucy’s hand and decided that it looked
edible. He lunged at it, trapping most
of the petals in his mouth and claiming it as his own. Lucy took an understandably different view of
the situation and began smacking his nose and screeching at him to let it
go. With world war three erupting in her
arms, Abby bent to put them down. This was when the second unexpected thing
occurred. The teddy bear-adorned hem of
her gown, which had been held up for Rob’s inspection with such embarrassing
results, had, as Lucy kissed him, slipped unnoticed between two of the pickets
in the fence.
As
Abby turned and bent, it caught tight, wrenching the gown back and completely
off her left shoulder when she dumped Bozo on the ground. The ominous ripping sound as she put Lucy
down as well did nothing for her composure, but she might have managed to
retain some dignity if Bozo hadn’t sunk his little teeth into her bare foot at
that point in time, making her stumble and fall to her knees, effectively stripping
herself completely as the last shreds of the thin robe made their decision and
clung to the fence instead of her.
The
world stood still. To Abby, everything,
every sound, every colour appeared to be magnified. She could hear the sound of the hose Rob was
holding, she could hear Lucy shouting “No Bozo!
It’s my flower! Give it back!”
and the puppy growling and trying to sound as vicious as something less than
six inches high could. She could see the
rich green of the grass under her knees, the pale skin of her thighs, the even paler skin of her breasts, bared and still jiggling
from her fall.
“Are
you all right?” Rob asked, breaking the spell.
Lucy looked up too.
“You’re
nuded!” she announced, shocked. “Rob can see your bottom, Aunty Abby!”
“I’m
good, I’m fine,” Abby said, ignoring Lucy and keeping her back to him. Yes, he could definitely see her bottom, but
no way was she turning around. Ever. She might never
actually move again. It was too
embarrassing.
“Aunty
Abby, you’re nuded!” Lucy pointed out to her again,
in case she’d missed it the first time.
”I know, Lucy,” Abby said. “Can you hand
me my gown, please?”
”It’s torn to pieces, Abby,” Rob said.
“Here, hang on.” She heard the
sound of the hose stop, then saw something fly over
her head. It was dark blue. His t-shirt.
“Thank
you,” she said gratefully, reaching for it.
Unfortunately, Bozo got to it first, catching it almost before it hit
the ground and taking off with it. Rob
did laugh this time, unable to stop himself.
She heard the fence creak behind her and then saw him race past her,
diving for the dog. Doubling up and
covering herself with her arms, she watched as Lucy joined in the chase. Rob caught Bozo quickly, the weight of the t-shirt
slowing the puppy down, and for good measure, he caught Lucy as well, scooping
her up against him. He walked back
towards where Abby was crouched on the ground.
Bozo tumbled around at his heels, leaping up in an attempt to resume the
fun t-shirt game.
Two
steps away from her, Rob went to drop the t-shirt in front of her, but
remembered the puppy in time.
”Take Bozo for a run down to the back fence,” he said to Lucy as he bent
down. “I bet he runs faster than you
do.” Unable to resist that sort of
heresy, Lucy took off as soon as her little feet touched the ground. Rob rolled the t-shirt up in his hands, then
bent lower still and pulled the neck over Abby’s head.
”There, you can pull it down and put your arms through the sleeves,” he said,
turning his back.
“Thank
you,” she said again. “Now, just as a
small, neighbourly favour, would you kill the
“No
harm done,” he said. He turned back in
time to reach down and take her hand, helping her to her feet. His t-shirt fell to just above mid-thigh on
her.
“No
harm done?” Abby repeated, incredulous.
She was having trouble meeting his eyes.
So far this morning, he’d seen her breasts, her pubic hair and her
bottom, not to mention all of her curled up nude on the ground at his
feet.
“I’ve
seen naked women before, Abby,” he said, still holding her hand. He smiled as she looked up at him. “Although not usually as pretty as you, and
never with so little effort on my part, I have to admit.”
“I
won!” Lucy roared, running back towards them. Given that Bozo was easily outstripping her
in pace, this appeared to be a blatant lie, but neither of them called her on
it. “I’m thirsty now,” she added.
“I’ll
get you a drink,” Abby said.
“I’ll
get it,” Lucy said. “I can get it, I can
get it.” She ran towards the laundry
door, just barely avoiding the noxious pile where Bozo had disposed of the
regurgitated soap. There was a small
stool just inside the door, and Lucy knew how to stand on it to get to the tap
in the sink. Nevertheless, Abby decided
to follow her, if only to have an excuse to extricate her hand from Rob’s warm
grip.
“Thank
you again,” she said, sliding her hand away.
He held on.
“My
pleasure,” he said, grinning this time.
She narrowed her eyes at him, and then slowly took in the whole
view. His bare shoulders looked very
broad, and his chest was tanned and muscular, undoubtedly from all of those
hours of working outside digging up people’s gardens. Just for an instant, Abby forgot that she was
standing in front of him wearing nothing but a t-shirt. His t-shirt.
“When
does Lucy go home?” he asked.
”Not soon enough,” she said tersely, provoking a laugh from him.
She
glanced up again, smiling wryly. “This
afternoon,” she said. “My sister and her
husband went out last night. They took
the baby because Claire is still feeding him.”
”I know,” Rob said. “Lucy told me,
remember?” Abby rolled her eyes. Very nice blue eyes, Rob thought to himself. Dark blue eyes, just like her niece’s, set in
a sweet, round little face not unlike Lucy’s either. They had exactly the same pointed chins,
small noses and determined expressions.
“A
locked house is a safe house,” Lucy announced, walking back towards them
purposefully. Abby’s eyes narrowed again. The back door was shut.
“Does
Daddy say that?” she asked. Lucy nodded
importantly.
“Daddy
taught me how to push the button in on the doors,” she said. “Because that way naughty
robbers can’t get in and take my toys.”
Abby caught her breath.
“Oh
no,” she said. “Lucy, sweetheart, tell
me that you didn’t push the button in on that door before you shut it?” Lucy looked confused. This was obviously something she was praised
for at home.
“A
locked house is a safe house,” she said again, but with less conviction this
time.
“I’ll
bet you that t-shirt that she did,” Rob commented softly, laughter in his
voice. “Do you have a spare key
outside?”
”No,” Abby said tightly.
“Oh,”
he said. “Umm…does anyone else have a
spare key?”
“Yes,”
Abby replied. “My
sister. Lucy’s mother.”
”So if you call her, she could bring that with her when she comes to get Lucy
and Bozo?” he suggested helpfully.
“Yes,”
she said, still in the same small, terse tone.
“And in the meantime, I will have to impose on your generosity and keep
your t-shirt. LUCY, GET OUT OF
THAT!” The bellow in her voice was
enough to make Rob drop her hand and step back.
Lucy looked up, shocked, from where she had been poking a small stick
into the mess Bozo had made earlier. Her
lower lip trembled.
“Where
is that puppy?” Rob asked, changing the subject fast. “Bozo?” Right on cue, there was an answering yip, and
for a terrifying second, Abby thought it was coming from inside the house. If that little furry fiend was in there by himself, she might as well just give up now and move. There would be nothing left by the time
Claire arrived. Then she realised the
bark had come fro
Bozo,
showing good taste for once, had taken an immediate and intense dislike to the
garden gnome. He’d worried at the tip of
its red hat for a little while, but was clearly not satisfied with the amount
of damage he’d been able to cause. Now,
despite the fact that it probably outweighed him, he was managing to push it
along the step it was resting on, his small nose and head being used as
battering rams in this case.
“Bozo!” Rob called out in a warning tone, but it was too late. Neil’s gnome rocked on the edge of the stone
step and fell, the clay breaking neatly at the neck. Not content with having beheaded it, Bozo
jumped on it and attempted to disembowel it.
“Bad boy, Bozo!” Lucy fussed, rushing towards him. “Come here, Bozo. Bad boy!” Despite the censure in her tone, Bozo went to
her, allowing her to pick him up in her usual fashion, with his small furry
back against her small, warm front, his head and front paws trapped under her
arms and the rest of his body dangling down.
“I
think you should all come over to my place,” Rob said. “You can ring your sister there, and I can
give you some sweats to wear instead of the t-shirt.” Abby looked down. The dark blue material wasn’t transparent,
which was something, but the shirt was old and thin, and it certainly wasn’t
covering much.
“That
would be nice,” she said. She looked up
towards the front of her house and her heart sank. She didn’t want to walk up there like
this.
“What’s
the bet that Mrs Jamieson is out watering her front garden?” she said. The neighbourhood busybody lived just across
the road from them. In the absence of real
gossip, she made up her own. The sight
of that snooty Abby Millwood walking into her new neighbour’s yard wearing only
a short, thin t-shirt, would send her into paroxysms of delight and a frenzy of
phone calls.
“You
haven’t paid up on the last bet yet,” Rob commented.
“What
bet?” she asked.
“That
Lucy had locked the door,” he said. “I
bet you that t-shirt. You lost.” He laughed at the look she levelled at him.
“Joke!”
he said, raising his hands in surrender.
“Just a joke!”
”Very funny,” she said, making it clear that she didn’t think so. “It might be a joke if I hadn’t flashed you
everything I’ve got already this morning.”
”I’m not complaining,” he assured her, almost looking serious. Abby snorted.
“Lucy,
Bozo, come here,” she called. “We’re
going over to Rob’s house.” She looked
up at the front again. And sighed again.
“Could
you lift them over the fence?” she asked.
“I’ll walk round, but if I take them with me, they might decide to take
off down the road. You’ve seen what
they’re like.”
”I have,” he grinned. He bent down and
caught Lucy as she ran towards them, swinging her up easily into his arms. She latched her own arms around his neck as
he settled her. Then he leaned down
again and hooked one long brown hand under Bozo’s tummy and picked him up too.
“Over
the fence with both of you,” he announced, heading that way in long
strides. “Careful now, I’m going to put
you down first, Lucy, and then I’m going to hand Bozo to you. Why don’t you go
pick yourself another daisy and make sure that Bozo doesn’t get into
trouble.” With that, he turned back and
walked to Abby.
“Your
turn,” he said, and before she could even protest, bent and swung her up into
his arms, too.
“Put
me down!” she said, making up for lost time.
He shook his head, grinning as he walked back to the fence, holding her
against his chest.
“You
don’t want to face Mrs Jamieson,” he said.
“And you’re not dressed for climbing fences. Up you go.”
He lifted her up higher so her backside cleared the pointy pickets, and
leaned over to put her down on the other side.
Somewhat
unsettled by the experience, Abby managed to take a step back before he took a
firm hold of the top of the fence, sprang up and levered himself over in a
smooth, fluid movement. She envied his
strength. And his
grace. She couldn’t imagine hi
“Are
those your nipples?” Lucy asked suddenly, from just to her right. Bozo was trapped in her arms again. Abby glanced down at the peaks trying to
thrust through the front of Rob’s t-shirt.
She crossed her arms over them.
”No,” she said firmly. Bozo, thankfully,
chose that instant to wriggle free, dropping to the ground and taking off for
freedom, Lucy in hot pursuit.
“Fibber,”
Rob accused, his eyes dancing. “Come on, let’s get Lucy and Bozo inside so I can get you some
more clothes.”
It
was easier said than done. Lucy seemed
to have the capacity to clone herself when she didn’t want to be caught, to the
point where there seemed to be at least three of her. To complicate matters, Bozo was able to put
on bursts of speed that would have won him a place in the dog Olympics. Fortunately, Rob, for some reason, seemed to
find it fun, and within minutes he had the
Rob
had changed the house a lot, Abby noticed as soon as they walked in to the big,
airy kitchen. The bright, stark colours
were gone, along with the modern furniture.
Now, the walls were soft and the fittings were more homey and
old-fashioned. She liked it. Holding Bozo, she took the telephone Rob offered
her and made the call to her sister, giving her a very
sanitized version of the story. Claire
still found it hilarious.
“John
has drummed the importance of locking doors into her so much,” she
laughed. “I’m not surprised she did
that. Oh, I’m sorry, Ab. We’ll be there as soon as we can.” It had
better be soon, Abby thought. Then she
looked around and realised Lucy had disappeared.
Before
she had time to worry, the little girl reappeared, Rob behind her, looking a
little uncomfortable.
“His
willy is bigger than Daddy’s,” Lucy said. Abby chewed her lips and looked up at Rob.
“I
didn’t realise she’d followed me into the bathroom,” he said
apologetically. “Until I looked up and
saw her staring intently.” For the first
time that morning, Abby laughed.
“I
have to work out how I’m going to explain all of this to Claire,” she
said. “Now, about
those clothes?”
“First
things first,” he said. He walked over
and turned the television on. Lucy
gravitated immediately to it, as if it were a magnet and she an iron filing.
“Claire
doesn’t let her watch much television,” Abby said. Rob raised his eyebrows in question.
“Is
Claire here?” he asked. Abby thought for
an instant, then smiled, a dimple appearing in one of her cheeks, just like it
did in both of Lucy’s.
“No,”
she said.
“Well,
then,” he said. “And
now, Bozo.” He pulled a blanket
out of a cupboard, spread it on the floor, picked Bozo up and plonked him onto
it. Then picked him up again as he
immediately escaped, and put hi
“Lucy,”
he said.
“Hmmm?”
she replied, not taking her eyes from the television set.
“I
want you to pat Bozo, just like this, and see if you can get him to go to
sleep,” Rob said. He took her little
hand and stroked it down Bozo’s back.
The puppy had already settled, was already
poised for the instant drop into sleep that baby animals always seemed to have
at their disposal. Lucy’s hand mimicked
the motion even as she focused all of her attention on to the antics of some
strangely but brightly dressed creatures with squeaky voices on the television
set.
“You’re
good,” Abby commented as Rob walked quietly away. “I should have asked for your help last
night.”
”You should have,” he agreed, smiling. “Next time.”
”There will never be a next time,” she said, shuddering. “Never, ever, ever. Not after this morning.”
”This morning has been great,” he corrected, leading the way down the
hallway. “One of my
favourite mornings for a long time.”
She glared at his back, but didn’t respond. Yes, from his side, it must have been quite
enjoyable, really.
She
paused at the entrance to the main bedroom, but Rob kept going. He heard her stop and looked back.
”You don’t keep your clothes in your room?” she asked lamely.
”Yes,” he grinned. “But that’s not
it. That’s my office.” He opened the door and let her see in. He’d set up drawing boards in there,
bookshelves, pictures of gardens and big, wall-sized plans.
“Very
nice,” Abby said, meaning it. Her office
at home was one of the smallest rooms, but she supposed a landscape designer
needed more space than a bookkeeper.
“You’ve
been in here before, obviously,” Rob said, shutting the door. “The house I mean, not the bedroom.”
”Yes to both,” Abby said simply. There
was an instant of silence.
“You
dated Neil?” he asked.
“For
two years,” she said. “Before he decided
that he’d gone through every female in the city and it was time to move to
another city.” The bitterness was gone
now, she noted, not just from her voice, but also from her heart. She’d thought she loved him, but although her
experiences with him had put her off men for some time, her heart had managed
to heal itself.
Finally.
“Is
that why you won’t go out with me?” Rob asked, walking down to the next door
and opening it. “History
repeating itself?”
”Maybe,” she admitted, knowing it sounded silly. “It seemed…awkward.”
“More
awkward than performing a slow striptease in front of me in the backyard?” he asked, a teasing look in his eyes.
”No,” she said. “Not more awkward than
that. Thank you for reminding me.”
”Oh, no trouble at all,” he grinned. “Here,
let me get you some sweats. They’ll be
miles too big for you, but they’ll cover you, at least. Unless you want shorts
instead?”
“No,”
Abby assured him. “The
bigger the better.” His grin
broadened, and he slid drawers open, pulling out a grey sweatshirt and some
black sweatpants.
“There,”
he said, throwing them on the queen-sized bed that occupied most of the
room. “And I’m sorry for teasing
you. I’m not sorry that it happened, but
I shouldn’t make it worse. You were
obviously horribly embarrassed by it.”
He sounded sympathetic, with just a hint…she
may have been mistaken, but just a hint of patronisation in his tone. As if she was silly to have
been embarrassed. Well, we’d see
about that.
Without
giving herself time to think twice, Abby reached down and tugged his t-shirt up
and over her head. She was rewarded by
the look of surprise on his face, the way his green eyes blinked. And blinked again.
“You’re
right,” she said. “I was horribly
embarrassed. Thank you for apologising.” She handed him his t-shirt and walked naked
towards the bed to pick up the sweats.
The walk took her right past him, and if he hadn’t looked down, all the
way down to her feet, and slowly back up again to her face, she might have made
it without blushing. But she
didn’t. His face brightened as he
grinned. The whole room seemed to, in
fact.
“Well
done,” he said. He looked down and up
again. He had made a point of not
looking when it was an accident, but he was definitely appreciating the view
now that it was deliberate. “Very, very well done.
I’ll leave you to get dressed.”
He walked to the door. Just as he
reached it, he turned and looked back.
“By
the way,” he said. “Lucy’s Daddy is
right. And not just about locking doors.” It was only after he’d shut the door that she
looked down and realised what he was talking about.
Her
face still burning, she pulled the sweatshirt on over her head, rolling the
sleeves up several times to get them clear of her hands. Then she stepped into the pants and pulled
them up. They were at least eight inches
too long for her, and she had to sit down on the bed and roll them up,
too. She left the room feeling like a
little kid in adults’ clothing.
She
paused in the hallway. Rob was sitting
on the floor, his t-shirt back on now, Lucy on his lap, the puppy asleep beside
him on the blanket. He looked up and saw
her. And smiled.
“There’s
room for another one of you in there,” he said, looking at the clothes. “Want a cup of coffee?”
“Yes,
but I’ll make it,” she said. “You look
very settled there.” He stayed there,
Lucy mesmerised by the television set, for almost an hour, drinking the coffee
Abby had brought him and watching cartoon characters and singing groups,
watching the little girl’s face as she stared at them, wide-eyed. Occasionally, she’d turn to him to share her
excitement at something. Often, he’d
look up to share his amusement at something with Abby, who’d curled up on the
sofa with a book she’d found in his office.
“Still
feeling awkward?” he asked quietly. Abby
looked up from the book and smiled.
Lucy’s head was heavy on his shoulder. She was nearly asleep.
“No,”
she admitted. He smiled back.
“Pizza
and a movie tonight?” he asked. She
pretended to consider it.
“All
right,” she said. His smile broadened,
just as a loud knock sounded on the door.
“That’ll
be your parents,” Abby said to Lucy.
“Mummy?” Lucy squealed. “Mummy!” She climbed
out of Rob’s lap and went racing down the hallway, still in her pyjamas, her
bare feet making huge thumps that belied her light weight. Awakened by the noise, Bozo raced after her,
barking loudly.
“Quick,
turn the television off before Claire hears it!” Abby said. Rob laughed and rolled to do so, then stood
up and held out a hand to her. As she
stood, she stopped, frozen in place, as Lucy’s voice rang down the hallway:
“And
Aunty Abby got nuded and Bozo threw up and Rob saw Aunty
Abby’s bottom and Bozo broke a gnome and Rob’s willy is bigger than yours, Daddy and….”
“I
am never having children,” Abby groaned.
Rob laughed and pulled her into his arms for a friendly hug, her head
resting against his shoulder just as Lucy’s had.
”I’ll remind you of that in a few years,” he promised.
The End