A Home Like Ours Fiona Lowe (good novels to read .txt) 📖

‘I can see why you cancelled on me this morning,’ Zac said to Tara.

Jon grinned at her, then laughed. ‘Yep, that was the reason.’

Tara’s cheeks burned from embarrassment that Jon was joking about sex in front of Zac while being delighted he had. Much of the time he managed to laugh when his tremors caused problems, but he was still raw around the issues affecting their sex life.

Zac glanced between them. ‘Am I missing something?’

‘Sorry, mate. Didn’t mean to be rude,’ Jon said. ‘Bit of a private joke.’

‘Cool.’ Zac nodded as if this sort of thing happened to him all the time. ‘My mother reckons laughing together’s the key to staying together.’

‘Wise woman,’ Tara managed.

‘Yeah. Mum’s pretty woke.’ Zac shifted his weight. ‘I’m starting a kickboxing class, Jon. Wondered if you might be interested?’

Surprise flashed across Jon’s face at the unexpected invitation. ‘Thanks, but it’s not really my thing. I prefer team sports.’

‘Tara said.’ Zac rubbed his jaw, clearly contemplating what to say next. ‘Did you know kickboxing’s been proven to help with balance, tremors and stiffness?’

‘You and Tara talk about me when you run, do you?’

‘Nah. She runs too fast for any conversation.’ Zac’s grin faded. ‘Tara’s a mate and I wanted to help is all. She told me you wouldn’t be interested, but I thought it was worth a shot. If you change your mind, call me. Or just drop by the gym.’ He gave a nod, pushed the earbud back into his ear and took off.

Tara opened her mouth to reassure Jon that she didn’t spend all her time with Zac talking about him when he said, ‘Nice bloke.’

‘Yeah. Underneath all that body sculpting there’s a lovely kindhearted guy.’

Tara was heaving the last bag into the rubbish skip when she saw Gerry crossing the car park.

‘You’re still a bit jittery after the shock, so to avoid spilled coffee I’ll go to the bakery,’ she told Jon.

He rolled his eyes. ‘Commandeering my condition for your own nefarious means, are we?’

‘When it comes to Gerry, needs must. Don’t let him talk you into inviting him to Thursday roast. He’ll want Ian to drink and your dad’s been so good lately. I don’t need them too drunk to play Uno and have the kids pestering us to watch something.’

‘I know he’s a bugger, T, but he’s lonely.’

Tara hesitated, feeling yet again like she was looking at herself from a distance. It had been happening on and off since she’d gambled their happiness on her own needs. Since she’d skated to the point where the ice was so thin it had broken underneath her and she’d tumbled, only to have Zac steady her. Tara understood loneliness. She’d lived it for a large part of the year and, despite her and Jon working hard to be a team again, she was still lonely. She missed Shannon.

Gerry’s not your problem. Only she knew exactly what it felt like to be lost and wandering through life.

Trying to muster grace, she said, ‘Say he’s welcome, but his drinking isn’t? That way he can decide.’

Jon nodded and gave her a rueful look. ‘Sorry about our morning matinee.’

‘It’s not your fault.’

‘The fact we have to schedule sex is.’

An ache stirred, disrupting the earlier feel-good moment. It lifted the mute from her anger at the disease that had invaded their lives and the many ways it demeaned him.

‘Again, not your fault. You didn’t ask to get Parkinson’s.’

‘Yeah, but when I come to dinner or to bed, I can’t leave the Parkinson’s behind, can I?’

‘You think I’m asking too much of Gerry?’

‘I don’t know. It just got me thinking. We don’t invite him over because when he drinks he gets loud and obnoxious and we’re embarrassed for him. Sometimes I’m a danger to china and carpet. It embarrasses me but it also embarrasses other people. I’ve seen it on their faces.’

‘If you’re talking about that rude waitress at the resort, she’s not worth worrying about.’ Tara hated that he’d noticed the ignorant woman and she laid her head on his chest, welcoming the vibrations of his heartbeat.

He stroked her hair. ‘So instead of sex for morning tea, I guess we’re forced to indulge in bakery goodness.’

‘I quite fancy a long slow lick of a chocolate éclair.’ She got a delicious tingle at the flicker in his eyes and walked away laughing.

CHAPTER

38

After Tara had fought through the thick plastic strips in the bakery’s doorway, she was greeted by Nancy, the baker’s wife. ‘Oh, my God, Tara. You poor things! We heard you got attacked.’

Tara tried not to sigh at the overblown drama. ‘The store got rubbish-bombed and graffitied, but no one was attacked.’

‘But it’s still an attack.’ Nancy leaned across the counter. ‘I’m petrified. I mean, this sort of thing doesn’t happen in Boolanga.’

Tara was getting sick of this response too. ‘This is the fifth time the store’s been damaged this year. How many times has the bakery been broken into? Graffitied?’

‘Thankfully none, but that doesn’t mean it won’t happen. We have to be vigilant and look out for each other. I’m only letting two of those African kids into the store at a time and all bags have to be left outside. Now, what can I get you?’

Tara knew she should challenge Nancy’s statement, but all she wanted to do was get out of the bakery as soon as possible. She reeled off a list of coffees and pastries, then ordered the sandwiches and a selection of mini quiches and sausage rolls for lunch. She handed over her credit card.

As she stepped back from the counter, she heard someone call her name. She turned and her stomach sank. Damn. It was Wednesday. Rhianna and Kelly were sitting at the table she and Shannon had shared with them for years.

‘Hi,’ Tara said.

‘Hi. Brent said you guys had another break-in last night,’ Rhianna said.

‘So we didn’t expect to see you today,’ Kelly added and gave her a tight smile. ‘Not that we’ve seen much of you