LITMIR.BIZ

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fingers combed her own straggly tufts that looked as though she’d taken the wool clippers to them. No time or money to spend on caring for inessentials such as hair. A twist of envy wound through her as she studied this woman. She’d been fooling herself. Mitch wouldn’t be alone. Good-looking, highly sexed, streetwise men like him never were. ‘Hello, I’m Dr Jodi Hawke. Is Mitchell at home?’

      The woman smiled easily, apparently not at all concerned with a strange female’s sudden appearance on the doorstep. ‘Sorry, but he’s at work, even though it is Saturday. I’d say come back later but who knows what time he’ll get home. He puts in long hours, always doing extra shifts.’

      I know. That was the problem. One of the problems, she corrected herself. ‘He works at Auckland General Hospital, right?’ Just checking she had that fact correct.

      ‘Isn’t he wonderful? Helping all those sick kids? He’s got such a lovely way with them. When our Lilly broke her arm Mitch fixed her up as easy as, and even made her laugh while he was doing it.’

      Our Lilly. Mitchell had a daughter? The guy who’d sworn off having his own kids for ever? Jodi’s head spun and she groped for the wall to gain some stability as darkness crashed down over her eyes. This was turning out an even bigger nightmare than she’d believed possible.

      ‘Hey, careful. You’re going to fall in a heap.’ A hand gripped her elbow firmly, propelling her over the doorstep and into a small entranceway. ‘What’s the matter? You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Or as our Lilly would say, seen a vampire. Here …’ The woman pushed her onto a chair. She was surprisingly strong for such a small woman. ‘Sit and put your head between your knees while I get you a glass of cold water.’

      ‘I—I’m s-sorry,’ Jodi whispered to the departing woman. ‘I never faint. Must be something in the air.’ Yeah, something called cowardice. ‘Toughen up. You’re a mother and mothers do anything for their children. Anything.’

      A shadow crossed the floor in front of Jodi. Carefully lifting her head, her eyes met a sympathetic gaze.

      ‘Here, drink this. My name’s Claire, by the way.’ The woman knelt beside the chair and held the glass to Jodi’s lips. ‘What happened? Gee, one minute you’re asking about Mitch, the next you’re dropping like a sack of spuds.’

      ‘I’m not sure. Must be the heat.’ Heat? In autumn? ‘Or something I ate earlier.’ Her voice dwindled off as she sucked in her lie. The half piece of toast at six that morning would hardly do this. Taking the glass from Claire, she sipped the refreshing water, and met the perplexed gaze of this kind woman. ‘I’m sorry, truly. I’ll get out of your way.’ Suddenly in a hurry to leave, she stood up, and swayed on her feet. Once more Claire grabbed at her, pushed her down on the chair.

      ‘Not so fast. You can’t walk outside like this. You’ll fall and hurt yourself.’

      Embarrassed at her unusual situation, Jodi drained the water and forced her brain to clear away the furry edges brought on by her near faint. In an attempt to divert her mind she looked around the entryway, then, through an open door into the lounge. Something wasn’t right. Too neat and tidy, impersonal. No toys or children’s books. Nothing to show a child resided here. ‘Your daughter doesn’t live with you?’

      ‘Of course she does.’ Then understanding dawned in Claire’s eyes. ‘I don’t live here.’ She chuckled. ‘I’m Mitch’s cleaning lady. Not his girlfriend.’ She went off into peals of laughter, crossing her arms over her stomach. ‘As if. I’m married to Dave, a long-haul truckie. We’re saving to buy our own house.’

      Relief poured through Jodi. ‘I’ve got it all wrong, haven’t I?’ Thank goodness, because she really didn’t want to upset this woman who’d been so kind to her. ‘I’d better get going. No point in waiting for Mitch.’ Back to the motel and Jamie. Mum would be busy working on her latest financial report, hoping Jamie stayed asleep while Jodi was out. But at least she’d come up with them to help out over the first few days until Jodi knew what would happen. Totally unlike her hardworking mother to be away from her corner grocery store for even a day, let alone a whole week.

      Concern clouded Claire’s eyes. ‘Hey, I wouldn’t let you stay here without Mitch’s say-so. He doesn’t know you’re visiting, does he?’

      How had she figured that out? ‘No. I, we, flew up from Dunedin today. It’s a surprise.’ Surprise? If what she had to tell Mitch was a surprise then she’d hate to think what a stealth bomber was.

      Claire headed for the front door and waved her through. ‘That’s all right, then. I like the guy. He’s kind and always pays me more money than I ask for, and never leaves a huge mess to clean up. I wouldn’t want to muck up what I’ve got going here.’

      Once a charmer, always a charmer. Jodi squeezed past her. ‘Thank you for the water.’ The path wavered before her and she concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other as she headed for the car.

      ‘Excuse me. Jodi, wasn’t it?’ Claire called after her.

      She paused, glanced over her shoulder. ‘Yes.’

      ‘In case you want to know, as far as I can see, Mitch hasn’t got a woman in his life at the moment. When he’s here he only uses the bathroom, one half of his bed and the kitchen.’

      Relief made Jodi feel wobbly again but she kept focused on that footpath and finally made it back to the stuffy car. Inside she rolled down the window to let some cooler air float across her face. Phew. The fact she’d all but fainted showed how much of a pickle she’d got herself into. The prospect of facing up to Mitch had given her endless sleepless nights. And now, after getting mentally prepared, her moment of reckoning had been delayed. It was killing her.

      Nothing compared to what’s happening to Jamie.

      She reached for the ignition. Glanced at the house. Saw Claire wave before she closed the front door. Claire, the cleaning lady. Not the wife or girlfriend. Mitch really was single.

      Something akin to excitement bubbled through her, warmed her from the inside out. Mitch was single. So what? He was toast, had been since the night he’d done his usual no-show. Except that time she’d been sitting in the swanky restaurant, at the table he’d booked for her birthday, drinking the champagne he’d pre-ordered, tossing up between roast salmon on fennel or venison steak when she’d seen his brother come in with his current glamorous toss. The brother she’d previously gone out with, and who’d never let her down. But who’d also never made her skin ache with need or her hormones dance the tango at the thought of him touching her. Only Mitch had ever done that.

      Max had seen her, seated his date, then crossed to say in a satisfied tone, ‘So Mitchell’s let you down yet again, has he?’

      And that had been the moment she’d known she was done with the Maitland twins. For ever. She’d taken her bottle of champagne and what was left in it, bought another, and headed home, stopping only to get a burger and chips on the way. She’d got thoroughly drunk all by herself. And in the morning she’d called in sick—not hard to do with the hangover she’d had—and had spent the hours packing. When Mitch had raced in about midday full of apologies she’d pointed to his bags and asked for her key back. ‘I won’t be treated as an afterthought. Last night was the final time you do that to me. I’m worthy of more than what you’re prepared to give me.’ Pride had kept back the words ‘I love you’, instead replaced with, ‘We’re over. I’m sorry.’

      And she had been very sorry, and broken-hearted, but she’d known if she hadn’t stood up for herself she’d eventually have been worn down to become a needy woman waiting and begging for a few minutes of Mitch’s attention. Like her mother had with Dad. She’d done her share of begging her father for some attention too. Dad had spent every day and night charming people into handing over their hard-earned savings for him to invest. He’d missed her birthdays, too.

      So Jodi Hawke didn’t do needy. Not now, not ever. She stood up for herself. Had learned the hard way at ten

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