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CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

This One Chance

“ I feel like all I ever do lately is attend funerals for people who should still be alive,” I muttered thickly to Joel as I pulled on a black coat over my grey pants and cream jumper.

The day had dawned crisp and cold. I slipped my feet into a pair of tan ankle boots and sat down on the edge of the bed.

“Trust me, Stink, you’re not alone there,” Joel replied from the doorway.

I looked up at him. He was wearing dark grey pants and a black shirt with a cream-coloured suit jacket over the top, and tan shoes.

I grimaced – we were colour coordinated.

Well, it wasn’t my fault; I’d gotten up and ironed this outfit before he’d arrived.

How was I supposed to know that he was going to wear those colours?

The BMW’s air conditioner blasted warm air over me, flipping my hair around my shoulders. The inside of Joel’s car was so warm that I struggled out of my coat.

Joel watched me. “Hey, Stink, I’m sorry for interrupting your date with Lov … Brad last night.” He actually sounded like he meant it.

I sighed. “It’s okay, Joel. I don’t think … I think he wants things that I’m not … that just aren’t going to happen. I feel like I might have screwed it all up last night, actually.”

He took his eyes off the road to stare at me. “How?” he asked sharply .

I shrugged and looked down at my lap. “Well, we sort of kissed again.”

“You sort of kissed?” Joel asked sharply.

“He said some things on the drive home that … riled me up. I was ready to leave the car mad at him, but then he kissed me. And …”

“And what?”

“And I kissed him back … for probably longer than I should have. I stopped as soon as … Brad and I shouldn’t be anything but friends. But I kind of think that the kiss might have given him the wrong impression.”

“Because a kiss from Melanie Black is life changing.” Joel murmured.

I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye, wondering if he was making fun of me. His face was unreadable. I blushed, deciding it was probably better not to know.

We lapsed into silence for the rest of the trip, and it wasn’t until we pulled into a parking space near the Botanic Gardens that he spoke again.

“Well, Stinky, I have to admit I feel sorry for the guy.” He turned to look at me.

I raised an eyebrow at him. “Why?” I demanded.

Joel sighed. “Because he’s been wanting to kiss you for years, and you finally gave him a taste of it. He’s going to want more, Stinky.”

I thought about Brad’s words the night he took me to Ben’s: “I want … there’s so much that I want …”

“Oh God,” I muttered. “I’m a horrible person. I only kissed him back because …” I came to a choking stop. I’d been absolutely on the verge of blurting out, “ To make myself forget the way my chest ached when I saw you with Julie.”

Joel sighed beside me. “You’re not a horrible person, Mel. You just do things sometimes without thinking about the consequences until it’s too late.”

I couldn’t argue with that.

“But hey, at least I didn’t sleep with him, right?” I tried to joke .

“Thank God for small mercies,” Joel muttered.

We walked side by side towards the Oriental Garden where the funeral was being held. Joel’s warm, male scent blew across me in the breeze, and I shivered.

“Cold, Stink?” Joel asked me quietly. I shook my head stubbornly, but the wind gusted harder and I trembled for real. Joel chuckled and slung an arm around my shoulders. He was very warm. Against my better judgement I nestled in closer to his body.

“You don’t have to act so tough all the time, you know. I know that you’re really a big baby under all the bravado,” he said wryly. I tried to wriggle out from under his arm, but he held me firmly against him.

I grunted unhappily. “Well, you don’t have to act like a dickhead all the time. I know that there’s more to you than that. At least, I think there’s more … actually I have no idea.”

Joel snickered quietly. “I have to keep you guessing, Stink.”

I snorted. “Why? Do you like it that I’m always confused when I’m around you?”

He turned and scooped a hand under my chin until I was staring into his face. “You’re so cute when you’re confused, Stinky.”

I rolled my eyes. “According to you, I’m cute no matter what sort of bad mood I’m in.”

He shrugged. “So, I’m in trouble for telling you that you’re cute now am I?”

I didn’t have a reply for that. He pulled me closer against him. I tried to ignore how much I liked being that close to him.

“You like this, don’t you Mel?” It was as if he’d read my thoughts.

I feigned ignorance. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Joel.”

He chuckled. “I think you do. I think you like being in my arms way more than you’ll ever admit.”

I laughed sarcastically, if a little nervously. “Well, you’ll never know, since I’m never going to admit it, will you?”

He stopped walking and I was dragged to a halt. He turned me until my whole body was facing him .

“I wonder if I could make you admit it,” he breathed, his arms circling my waist, pulling me against him. I clamped my fingers down on his arms, but I couldn’t figure out if I wanted to push him away or drag him closer.

I sucked in a breath. “Joel, this is totally inappropriate. We’re here to attend a child’s funeral! Get off!” My voice was panicked. I was cranky with him; that was all. It had nothing to do with the fact that it had taken every ounce of my self-control not to close the gap between us myself.

He leaned away, a self-satisfied smile on his face. Then he sneaked in and brushed those full lips briefly against my cheek.

“You’re right, Stink. I’ll make you admit it some other time.”

We crested a hill, and there was the funeral spread out on the other side.

There were hundreds upon hundreds of people there.

School kids in their uniforms stood out the most for me.

Well, almost. It was the little pack of kids with beanies covering their bald heads, looking pale and drawn to one side, under the watchful eye of their parents and medical staff that really caught my eye.

I wondered morbidly which one of them would be next.

There weren’t really any seats, except for some for the family down at the front, circled around the distressingly tiny, bright pink coffin.

People were either sitting on the grassy verge or standing.

We stood towards the back. Joel relinquished his hold on my shoulders, only to wind his fingers through mine. I let him.

I needed to talk myself out of this stupid attraction to the smug, crass, sleazy, funny, stunningly gorgeous, strangely deep, intensely frustrating, confusing, contradictory man who was currently holding my hand.

I didn’t need to be attracted to him. I really didn’t need it. I just had to convince myself that I didn’t want it either.

The secular celebrant began the service with some words about Natalie.

I’d never been to an Atheist funeral before.

I found the notion that this was our one life at once strangely cathartic and terribly depressing.

If this was Natalie’s only chance to live, if there was no eternal life, then what sort of cruel world did we live in?

“Natalie knew that there was a good chance her life wouldn’t be a long one, but she never let that thought get her down.

She enjoyed the things within her grasp to the fullest. Her love of reading and writing, and of course, tennis,” the celebrant said, and I bit my lip against the sudden tremor that thrummed through me.

I’d never get to play that game of tennis with Natalie. I’d never get to see the joy on her face that would have brought.

It made me wonder what things I hadn’t done on this earth that I should do, just in case the Atheists were right, and we only got this one chance at finding joy in what we had now .

One thing forcefully sprang into my head, and I glanced up from under my lashes at the object of my sudden thought. He must have felt my gaze because he met my eyes. The wind whooshed through again, blowing my hair all around me.

Before I could scoop it out of my face, Joel’s hand swooped in and with gentle fingers he brushed it off my cheek and tucked it away behind my ear.

His thumb lingered on my cheekbone just a tad longer than was really necessary.

His eyes were cautious as they met mine, and he tucked his bottom lip between his teeth, like that would hold in something that was clamouring to get out of him.

I turned away, focusing as best I could on the rest of the ceremony. When the celebrant finished and the crowds started to shift away, I turned to Joel and indicated with a jab of my head that I wanted to go see Natalie’s dad, Frederick.

There were a lot of people around him, but when he saw me, he pushed his way through the mourners towards us. His eyes were red-rimmed, but he was composed.

“Thank you so much for coming, Mel. It was one of the last things that Natalie asked me, before she went.”

I pushed aside my shock. “I’m truly sorry. Natalie was a beautiful little girl, and I wish I could have gotten to know her better.” My eyes prickled, but I really didn’t want to cry. What right did I have to cry, when her own father was here, dry eyed?

“She talked about you a lot towards the end. The one thing she was really cranky about was that she never got to play that game with you.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat. “She knew? That she was …” I felt horrible asking, but it just seemed surreal to me, that a child could know that she was dying and accept that fact.

Frederick nodded. “She was the one who told me I had to let her go. She was trying to hold on to watch you play at Wimbledon, but it wasn’t meant to be. She kept saying that she had a good feeling about Wimbledon for you.”

He looked back towards the coffin briefly, then turned back to us. “I hope you don’t mind – all she wanted in the coffin with her was the racquet you gave her. She said that at least then she’d feel like she got to play with you.”