One week later Joshua paid Grace an unexpected visit. She was working in, what was laughingly referred to by the family as, the back lawn. The acre, that swept from the house to the beginning of a slight inclination that formed the base of the hills, was almost a paddock. A rough, uneven expanse of land. Part of it served as a vegetable garden and a few flower beds bordered the house and the path leading to the clothes line. But beyond the vegetable plot, the land had been left in its natural state, it was rough, clumpy and during the summer very dry. Occasionally a neighbouring farmer would ask to graze a few sheep there. It was an arrangement that suited the Carvalho family, for it kept the grass and tussock at a reasonable height. At the moment it was clumpy blades and tufts of long knee high dry grass.
The area between the house, the vegetable plot and the clothes line was also what passed for a backyard in these parts. Grace was pushing a dilapidated lawn mower over that grass when Joshua paid her his visit. He hadn't phoned to tell her he would be visiting. She would have dredged up an excuse not to be there, of that he was certain. His plan was to arrive unannounced and work from there. If she let him. Of that he was less certain. He had pensively reasoned the whole thing through. He'd start by apologising, if she'd let him. He wasn't expecting it to be easy or straightforward. But having her on his mind was not conducive to an efficient work load.
She was wearing very short cut-off jeans, a t-shirt that was knotted under her bra-less breasts, and on her feet were a pair of old trainers. Her hair, as usual, was in a pony tail, and as usual, there were several wisps that escaped the confines of the hair tie. She was sweating profusely. The wisps of jet black hair clung damply to her face and neck and her T-shirt was plastered wetly to her back. She had her walkman hitched on the waistband of her jeans and ear plugs fed an endless rendition of indy rock songs into her ears. Singing loudly, and slightly off key, she urged the lawn mower forward. The majority within hearing distance would have considered her singing more akin to yelling. It certainly bore no resemblance to the melody.
Her mind was tuned into hear the music and her other senses had switched off as she carried out the mundane, but necessary, task of mowing the tough strip of grass. She had managed to mow almost half of it and had her back to the house as she made one more sweep up the slight incline. She was leaning heavily against the dilapidated mower as she pushed it steadily along. This was her way of working out, she had no need of a gym.
When Joshua rounded the corner of the house he was surprised into temporary immobility. He had planned his speech carefully. He had logically expected to find her reading or doing what ever it was that lecturers did on their day's off. He hadn't expected to find her pushing a rather ancient manual lawn mower, yelling loudly as she went. Of course he'd heard the racket as soon as he had stepped out of the car, but he hadn't expected it to be coming from her. And he had expected her to stop that racket to find out who had arrived. She seemed oblivious to his presence as she continued to holler loudly. He stopped and watched. It wasn't the sound that paralysed Joshua. What held him transfixed was the expanse of flesh that he had been imagining, dreaming and lusting over for the last week. How could a woman pushing a dilapidated lawn mower look so sexy? And those shorts were positively indecent. He sincerely hoped she didn't wear them in public or beyond the fence line of this property. As far as Joshua was concerned she looked sexy.
He knew she had shapely legs, but the first time he'd formed that impression, her legs had been clad in red denim. This time they were bare and never ending. The sight of her bare midriff was what his fingers remembered. His hands had felt, teased and held that skin only a week ago. His mind had completed the picture for him over the last few days and nights. He grew hard. Taking a deep breath he watched her move. The pony tail of jet black hair bobbed along as she propelled the heavy machine forward. The next time he touched her he was going to thread his fingers through that hair, and hold onto a fistful as he made love to her. He swallowed.
One kiss. That's all he'd had. It had taken his logical, sensible world and tilted it. Not just tilted, but shaken, rocked, and completely up ended it. He pulled himself together, the last thing he wanted was for her to turn around and find him slathering over her and a decrepit lawn mower.
"Grace." He finally called, when he realized that he was aroused watching a woman mow a lawn.
Nothing changed. She didn't turn around. She hadn't stopped singing either. His lips twitched as he listened to the slightly off key yelled rendition of a recent hit. Then he noticed the walkman. A smile formed on his lips as he came to a decision. No point wasting a good opportunity to be a voyeur, and she'd be turning around soon enough. He smiled as his brain told him he was a coward stalling for time. Joshua sat down on the fourth step by the back door. He waited. She had almost reached the top edge of the patch of lawn. She heaved it one more time and finished the final few inches before the clothesline. Any minute now, she'd turn around, any minute. He felt his heart pick up pace. Anticipating her reaction. Getting used to his own.
The hairs on the back of her neck stood up. Grace suddenly felt disconcerted. It was as if she was being watched. It unnerved her. She slowed to a halt, not quite finishing the strip of green, her eyes scanned the immediate horizon. Slowly, she scanned the fields ahead of her, followed the slope of the hills, then she looked up the hill. Nothing. For as far as she could see, no-one. She half expected to see her farming neighbour. No-one. A tiny tremor shivered down her spine. Decidedly uncomfortable, she gave the horizon one last scan. No-one.
Slowly, she turned her head and looked over her shoulder, and jumped visibly with shock when she saw Joshua. She hadn't really been expecting to find anyone sitting there watching her, not on her back doorstep. Not looking as if he were totally comfortable and relaxed, whilst she looked a state. And she certainly wasn't expecting to see Joshua. Not in real life, not in her life. She only saw him in her thoughts every day and in her dreams most nights. Maybe that was all this was; a mirage. A very life like mirage. Ever hopeful, she blinked. No, he was still there. Shit. She swore silently. He was even smiling.
Thoughts raced frantically through her mind as her heart hammered, a combination of the fright he'd given her, the thrill she felt at seeing him and the expectation of imminent trouble. Her palms got clammy.
Now what? She wondered, as he continued to just sit there and watch. He seemed so at ease, as if he lived here and was just sitting out in the afternoon sun, enjoying the view. That brought her down with a jolt.
He had a brilliant view at his home, in a salubrious area, with the in- crowd, one that she didn't belong to. His crowd. Shock was replaced by practiced reserve. The old Grace was back. With deliberate reticence, she slowly removed her ear phones and switched off the tape. Deliberately slow she levered the lawnmower off the strip she'd done, turned it around and pushed it primly and ponderously back down toward the house. Time to face the music. She could handle this, she had handled similar situations when she was at school. She was older now, more sophisticated, more poised and more experienced, of course she could handle this. Just remain passively indifferent. Just a touch of restraint, that's all she needed to get through this, a touch of restraint.
She knew that she had behaved recklessly at his party, something she had been trying to fathom out for the last week, but she also knew that she would pay for it at some point. She had counted on it being a long way in the future. Fifty years from now would have been great, a nice safe option, when he'd hopefully have forgotten the incident. Some hope. He was here, ready to collect his dues. Shit. She muttered as she left the lawn mower propped up against the corner post of the clothes line and walked toward him with her arms crossed in front of her chest. Defensively but decisively she moved toward him. When she reached him, Grace jammed her hands into her back pockets, unaware of how the action drew attention to her chest. "Mr De Souza." She said ultra politely, her eyes cool, her features schooled to reflect reserve and indifference. Her posture tense.
"Grace." He mimicked her tone, but his eyes were full of suppressed laughter.
"What do you want?" She asked bluntly, momentarily discarding her strategy to stay aloof. She could see the laughter gleaming in his eyes, while she found nothing remotely funny. The fact that she had so easily slipped beyond the sanctuary of reticence made her cranky.
"You." Came the equally candid, unexpectedly teasing, reply.
That startled Grace. Her eyes widened in shocked confusion, then she revived enough to say, "Look, Mr De Souza..." She was in trouble, he was getting to her again, without even working at it. She willed herself to remain unflappable. But his next sentence didn't help her cause.
He grinned at her, "It was 'darling' a week ago." Her equilibrium shattered. Joshua breathed a silent sigh of relief, and continued to work hard to keep her on the back foot. From his limited meetings with her, Joshua knew that his best strategy would be to keep her guessing. She thought she knew him, she had certainly read him well at his party.
"I suppose you're here to pay me back." There was such an air of inevitability in her voice that he had to laugh.
"Pay you?" He queried boldly, and smiled broadly, "You still owe me. That kiss was worth more than ten dollars." He continued jovially.
Grace relaxed a fraction, he seemed quite laid back, she took her hands out of her pockets. "Look, Mr De..."
"I liked 'honey' better. Or if you could, darling would be perfect. " His eyes twinkled. She seemed to be coping well so far. She hadn't thrown him off the property, she was a fraction cool, and too remote, but he could work with that.
"At what age do men stop being stupid bastards?" She flashed back.
"A trick question?" His eyebrows rose. OK, so she wasn't taking his teasing as well as he'd hoped.
"Don't play games with me Mr De Souza." She said quietly, folded her arms across her chest, and once more went into defensive mode. "You may have been right about a lot of things you said, but having the hide of an elephant was not one of them."
Green eyes instantly sobered as Joshua recognised his words. His whole demeanour became earnest, this was it, his opening to apologise." Grace, I'm sorry." He told her sincerely.
She tipped her head to the side as she interrupted. "Did Zac press you into this?"
"Zac?" Why would Zac press him to make this apology. Had she told him what had happened in the study? He and Zac had had a full scale, almost physical row. But Zac didn't appear to know what had been said between Grace and Joshua.
"Yes. Did he tell you to apologise?"
"Yes." Joshua agreed. "But I'm here because I need to apologise, I was way out of line." He flicked her a measuring look, to see if she was still listening to him. "It's no excuse, I know, I just didn't stop to think before I spoke. I was so bloody furious." His eyes met and held hers. She said nothing. "I want to apologise. What I said was appalling. I really am sorry."
Still she said nothing.
He knew he'd have to explain, he just hadn't counted on it being so early in their conversation. Oh, well, better to get it out of the way, after all he had more important things to sort out. He decided on the honest approach.
"It was obvious why you were there. But I'd only just heard the rumours about Lysette embroiling me in her shenanigans and then you arrive. I'd had enough of women thinking they could manipulate me." He shuffled nervously, not sure whether to tell her that his reaction to her fazed him. "I'm sorry. I know what I said hurt you. I didn't mean to. I was saying things before I'd actually thought them through. I was angry and I dumped it on you. I am very sorry. " He waited for her response. He kept his eyes trained on her face, hoping to catch a glimpse of her eyes, he could sometimes read her thoughts in those eyes, but she kept her head averted from his gaze.
"It's ok" She whispered finally, shrugged, confused by the turn of events. An apology was the last thing she had expected. It also destroyed her strategy of dealing with the situation. How could she stay indifferent, let alone hostile, when he was being so nice. And, so honest.
"No it isn't o.k." He disagreed emphatically, "What I said was cruel and completely wrong."
Grace brushed aside tendrils of drying hair. "I'm sorry I hit you." She whispered quietly, sensing that this was an opportune time to make her own apologies.
"I deserved it."
"No-one deserves violence." She corrected him firmly.
"O.k., o.k. I didn't come here to argue." He held up his hands in surrender, "How about we agree to mutually forgive each other for our out of character behaviour?" The bantering was back in his voice.
She considered him, tried to keep her feelings from showing. But her heart hammered frenetically and she was sure he would hear it. This was crazy. He was being nice to her. He was teasing her. There had to be a catch.
"Does this mean you'll offer me a coffee?" He pushed his luck. She hesitated for a brief second. To Joshua it seemed like eternity. "Sure."
She kicked off her trainers as she stepped barefoot past him and onto the step. She unknotted the t-shirt and her midriff disappeared under the shapeless t-shirt which hung loosely and well past the length of her shorts. Joshua was momentarily disappointed. Then relieved. She was arousing him without touching him. He followed her into the house. He glanced around as he stepped into the room. The last time he'd visited this house he hadn't been invited in. He'd brought her home from the airport, deposited her cases on the verandah and beaten a hasty retreat. It seemed to him that he had been hasty about a great many things. Too many.
The back door of the small timbered cottage led to a small laundry area and two other doors. The left door led to a shower, Joshua and Grace stepped past it and took the door directly ahead and walked straight into the kitchen. It was a large sunny room with a small breakfast counter bisecting the room into a kitchen and dining section. There were four wooden stools tucked beneath the counter and Grace indicated for him to take one as she walked toward the electric jug.
Joshua glanced around as he perched on the stool and in silence Grace filled the electric jug with some water from the tap. The kitchen walls were painted white and the floor boards and units were polished stained wood. The double drainer sink and dish washer were by the back door as you walked into the room, the outside wall was flanked with window sill level units, the adjacent wall had the stove, more units and the start of the breakfast bar. The surfaces were clear. A vase of tiny white roses was the only item on the work surface. Pots and pans hung from a metal rack suspended from the ceiling and knick knacks sat on the window sill. It was a small room, but uncluttered it looked slightly more spacious.
On the other side of the breakfast bar was an open doorway, it led to a lounge room. Next to that was another door. It was shut. Grace strolled to the shut door and opened it. It was a small pantry. She retrieved a tin of biscuits and placed the tin of chocolate chip cookies on the counter in front of him. "Help yourself."
"Home made?" He queried when he opened the tin and found palm sized biscuits with enormous chunks of chocolate in them. They looked homespun. He doubted whether a company would pour this amount of chocolate into one biscuit.
"Sasha makes them." Grace told him, as she stood with her back to him waiting for the kettle to boil. "How do you take your coffee?" She turned to see him munch into the large biscuit.
"Black, no sugar." He said between munching.
"Just like your brother." She murmured, but he heard her.
"He's been here?" Joshua wondered when that could have been.
"No, the Uni," Grace told him as she spooned in some powdered instant coffee. "Caused quite a stir I can tell you. Did wonders for my reputation too."
"Sounds like Zac." He took a another munch of the cookie, it melted deliciously, he savoured the effect, home baking was a rarity in his house, "Sometimes I.."
The sound of a phone ringing interrupted him mid sentence, "Excuse me." Grace said automatically as she went to answer the insistent ring.
She was gone a few minutes. Joshua helped himself to another biscuit. When she returned there was an added sparkle in her eyes.
"Good news?" He couldn't help but ask.
Grace nodded and treated him to the most enchanting smile he'd ever faced. It left him feeling winded. "Brilliant news." She released a happy sigh, as she came into the room and perched on a stool. "Briar is on her way home." She sounded as if all she had ever wanted for Christmas had just been given to her.
"Briar?" He said spontaneously, although he recollected that it was the name of another sister, he wasn't sure whether she was the middle one or the youngest. "Where's she been?" He'd made his coffee and had poured hot water into her mug too. It had a herbal tea bag. Grace rescued it before it could stew too long.
"My sister," Grace enlightened him smugly as she placed the tea bag on the saucer, "has been all over the place, any rough spot you can think of, she's been there." She glanced at him and realised that he was still looking confused. "She'll have completed two years with the UN. Just finished in Liberia. " Grace informed him proudly.
"The UN?" He was impressed.
"She's a medic." She hugged the mug of herbal tea between her palms, smiling as she said, "The most gifted, beautiful doctor in the whole world." She finished with a flurry. He grinned at the obvious bias. Unabashed, she smiled broadly when she saw his grin. "She is." She reached for the cookie jar, "Here, help yourself."
"I already did, several times." He owned up.
"So who's counting."
He took a biscuit. "Three girls in your family, right?" He sipped his coffee, and waited for her to answer. She nodded as she cupped her mug and momentarily reviewed the past in silence. "You're the oldest." He prodded and waited.
She nodded, "Then Briar, then Sasha." She tacked on automatically as she reached for a massive cookie.
"Ah, the one who knows a way to a man's heart is through chocolate chip cookies. So where is this woman and do I take it she's a chef?"
"She's in Otago, Dunedin actually. Just doing her Post doc."
He whistled, "You all have brains as well as beauty?"
It was meant to be rhetorical, but Grace answered it anyway. She placed her mug on the breakfast counter. "Beauty?" She chortled, "Even with her dress sense, Sasha only has to walk into a room and guys fall all over themselves as they stampede to be the first to chat her up." She smiled happily, "And Briar," she shook her head ruefully, beaming as she remembered her sisters, "She thinks that looking like a Vogue model is a hindrance in her line of work. You should see the extremes they both go to, just to play down their appearance." Grace stopped speaking, suddenly realising that in her good mood she had let down her guard and she was talking too much. "Anyway, I'm sure you haven't come here to discuss my family." She shifted awkwardly past him and reached for her mug of tea. Fortunately he moved away. Slowly, imperceptibly she relaxed, although she finally acknowledged to herself that he made her nervous.