A Home Like Ours Fiona Lowe (good novels to read .txt) 📖
- Author: Fiona Lowe
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Her already hot skin burned with old embarrassment, but she realised he was right. It wouldn’t ever happen again. She’d already sat next to him for ten minutes without a single strand of lust stirring inside her.
‘I appreciated the texts, but I don’t have time to run any more,’ she told him.
‘You need to run, Tara. Not just for exercise, but to help you deal with your husband—’
‘Jon.’ It suddenly seemed really important that Zac called Jon by name. ‘His name’s Jon.’
‘You need to run so you can deal with all the stress and shit that comes with Jon’s Parkinson’s.’
‘Stress and shit?’ She laughed so hard she snorted.
‘What’s funny?’ He sounded offended.
‘The counsellor talked about “challenging moments” and “unexpected life events”, but stress and shit are way more accurate.’
He grinned. ‘And my English teacher said I was crap with words. So how’s Jon dealing with it?’
She chewed the inside of her cheek. ‘He was always the life of the party and now he’s quiet, fighting depression.’
‘Apparently that’s common with Parkinson’s.’
‘How do you know that?’
‘Been doing a bit of reading.’
She stared at him, utterly flummoxed. Zac only read stuff about exercise and nutrition. ‘What sort of reading?’
He shrugged. ‘Stuff about the disease and the drugs. There are some pretty sick side effects.’
‘Tell me about it. They scare Jon and me rigid.’
‘But he needs to take them, yeah?’
‘Oh, yeah. It’s like doing a deal with the devil. You can only get the good effects if you risk the bad. Jon gets shirty if I ask him how he is, so I feel like I’m an undercover cop searching for clues. It doesn’t go down well if he catches me watching him, but I’m terrified he mightn’t notice he’s being obsessive.’ She pulled at the wrapper on the bottle. ‘I read an article about a man with young Parkinson’s who gambled all his family’s savings. Just the thought of it makes me want to hide and rock.’
‘You know, exercise is important for Jon too. If he wanted, I could do some sess—’
‘Thanks, but he’s got cricket.’ The thought of Zac and Jon together sent a chill across her skin. Not that Zac would say anything, but even so, it was two worlds best not colliding.
Zac’s usually relaxed demeanour stiffened. ‘I wasn’t cadging for business, Tara.’
Guilt kicked her. Cutting him off was everything to do with her shame.
‘I know you weren’t. I’m sorry. It’s a very kind offer, but Jon’s never been one for workouts. He’s a rusted-on footy and cricket player.’
‘Fair enough.’
He still sounded hurt and she rushed to change the topic. ‘How’s the marathon training going?’
‘Okay.’
‘Just okay?’
‘I’m finding it hard to stay motivated without a training buddy.’
‘Sorry.’
‘God, Tara. Don’t be sorry.’ He drew circles in the dust. ‘You know, running’s not just about training for a marathon. It sounds like you need to do it for the headspace stuff.’
‘You’re right. I’m definitely calmer than I was an hour ago.’
‘But you need to do it safely. Not in heat like this, yeah?’
‘Yes, Mum.’
‘I meant what I said in the text.’
‘I know. I just don’t know where I can squeeze it in.’
‘You don’t squeeze it in. You make it a priority.’
Irritation dug at her. She knew he meant well, but Zac’s entire life revolved around working out.
‘You have no idea what my life’s like now.’
‘Maybe. But what will it be like for Jon and the kids if you reach a point when you can’t cope?’
She closed her eyes as the image of the water over her sandal-clad feet rushed back. With it came the fear that she’d unthinkingly stepped into the water seeking peace and calm when the reality was it came with known risks. Zac was right—she needed to run.
She thought about the routine of each day, looking for gaps that coincided with the appropriate exercise weather. ‘Maybe I need to come to one of your 6 am park classes.’
Zac laughed. ‘I want to say yes, but I don’t need you freaking out my ladies so they give up.’
‘I’m not that competitive.’
He rolled his eyes. ‘Tell yourself that. Here’s an idea. I don’t have an early class on Tuesdays and Thursdays or the weekends. We could run then.’
‘But you’ll lose your sleep-in.’
‘I’m awake at five anyway. May as well run with you as lie in bed staring at the ceiling. You in?’
His kindness crashed into her and she swallowed hard, trying not to cry. ‘I’m in.’
‘Awesome.’
‘Thanks, Zac.’
‘No worries. Anything for a mate.’
CHAPTER
28
When Tara got out of the shower, she heard Jon calling out that he was home. She found him in the kitchen holding his hand under the tap, blood mixing with water.
She grabbed the first-aid kit. ‘What happened?’
‘The knife, the tomato and I disagreed. Don’t fuss.’
‘Does it need stitches?’
‘No!’ The word bounced around the room loaded with anger and frustration.
She tried not to take it personally. ‘May I offer you a band-aid?’
His shoulders slumped and a long breath rumbled out of him. ‘Sorry. A band-aid would be good.’
She dried his hand, checked the cut, confirmed it was superficial, then covered it with the dressing and binned the rubbish.
‘What do you think about us buying and growing cherry tomatoes from now on?’ she said lightly.
‘Sounds good to me.’ He bent down and pressed a kiss on her hair. ‘Thanks, T. Did you get held up at the garden with another morning tea?’
She wanted to say yes, because she remembered his reaction to her exercise routine and marathon plans before his diagnosis. But if she didn’t tell him she was going back to running, where would that leave them? In as much of a mess as before and she never wanted to return to that dark place.
‘It was more when I was leaving the garden. My phone went crazy, mostly with messages from the store—’
‘I’m not a bloody invalid!’ He slammed his fist into his palm. ‘I’ve been in the office all morning twiddling my thumbs. I hate they’re bothering you when they should be
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