Annie Claydon – Festive Fling With The Single Dad (страница 5)
‘Spirals, eh? Show-off…’ Flora murmured the words and Aksel felt his shoulders relax suddenly. Maybe this wasn’t so difficult after all.
When Flora walked out to her car, it was already getting dark. She’d stayed longer than she’d intended with Aksel and Mette, and the work that she’d expected to take an hour had taken two. That might be something to do with the daydreaming. Aksel’s bulk and strength and the gentle vulnerability that little blonde-haired, blue-eyed Mette brought out in him were downright mouth-watering.
He was so anxious to please and yet so awkward with his daughter. Aksel watched over Mette’s every move, ready to catch her if there was even the smallest likelihood that she might fall. He meant well, but he was smothering her.
Lyle Sinclair had a way of taking patients or their families aside and gently suggesting new ways of looking at things. And Lyle would have the advantage of not feeling quite so hot under the collar at the mere thought of a conversation with Aksel.
‘Flora!’
Flora closed her eyes in resignation at the sound of his voice. However hard she tried to escape him… When she turned and saw him striding across the car park towards her, she didn’t want to escape him at all.
‘I wanted to thank you.’
He’d done that already. More than once, and in as many words as Aksel seemed capable of.
‘It was my pleasure. I always bring a little gift for the children, to make them feel welcome.’ She’d told him that already, too. They could go on for ever like this, repeating the same things over and over again.
‘I…’ He spread his hands in a gesture of helplessness. ‘You have a way with children.’
He made it sound as if it was some kind of supernatural power. Flora frowned. ‘Children are just…people. Only they’re usually a bit more fun.’
‘You have a way with
It was a nice compliment, especially since it was accompanied by his smile. Something was bugging him, but she wasn’t the right person to speak to about it. She had too much baggage…
Baggage or experience? Experience was something that she could use to help her get things right this time. She’d been an impressionable teenager when she’d loved Tom, but she knew better now. There was no cosmic rule that said she had to fall for Aksel, and she could handle the regrets over never being able to trust a man enough to build a relationship. If that meant that she’d never be able to sit on the floor and play dominoes with her own child, she could deal with that, too.
Flora turned, opening the rear door of her car and dumping her bags in the footwell. Then she faced him. If all he had to throw at her were longing and regret, she’d already made her peace with them, a long time ago.
‘You’ve said “Thank you” already, there’s no need for us to stand in the cold here while you say it again. What’s bugging you?’
That was obviously confronting. But the slight twitch at the corners of his mouth told Flora that challenge was one of the things that he thrived on.
He took a breath, as if preparing himself. ‘My relationship with Mette’s mother was over before Mette was born and we never lived together as a family.’
What was he trying to say? That he’d been an absent father who hardly knew his own child? His obvious commitment to his daughter made that difficult to believe.
‘And now?’
‘I can’t bring her mother back, or her sight. But I’d give anything to make her happy and…’ He shrugged. ‘It’s not working. When I saw you with her this afternoon, I saw how much it wasn’t working.’
Flora thought quickly. Aksel needed the kind of professional help that didn’t fall within her area of expertise.
‘Maybe you should talk to Lyle Sinclair. The clinic has a family counsellor who deals with just these kinds of issues, and Lyle could organise a session for you both.’
He shook his head abruptly. ‘Mette’s just fine the way she is. I won’t put her into counselling just because
‘Maybe it’s not about change, but just getting to know each other better. Kathy uses storytelling a lot in her sessions, to make things fun. I’m sure you have plenty of stories about the places you’ve been—’
‘No.’ That sounded like a hard limit. ‘That part of my life is over. Mette needs to know that I’ll be there for her, always. That I’m not about to leave, and go to places that she can’t.’
His heart was in the right place, but his head was way off course, and lost without a map or compass. This was
‘Who says that you can’t go together?’ Flora gave an imperious twitch of her finger, indicating that he should follow her, and started to walk.
Flora seemed impatient with him, as if he was stubbornly refusing to see a simple fact that was obvious to her. On one level, Aksel just wanted to see her smile again. But on another, much more urgent level, he reckoned that Flora could be just as annoyed as she liked, if only it meant that she’d tell him what he was doing wrong. The first lesson he needed to learn was how to follow, rather than lead, and he walked beside her silently.
They reached the gravel driveway outside the clinic, and Flora stopped. ‘You think that Mette doesn’t know what it’s like to be an explorer?’
The warmth in her eyes had been replaced by fire. Aksel swallowed down the thought that he liked that fire, and concentrated on the point that Flora seemed about to make.
‘You’re going to tell me different, aren’t you?’
‘Just think about it. She can feel the gravel under her feet, and she can hear it scrunch. If she bends down, she can probably see it. She can feel the snow…’ Flora broke off, turning her face up towards the flakes that had started to drift down, and one landed on her cheek. Aksel resisted the temptation to brush it away with his finger, and it melted almost immediately.
‘But she can’t see any of this.’ He turned towards the mountains in the distance. He’d give his own sight if Mette could just appreciate the beauty of the world around her.
‘Exactly. That’s where you come in. She needs someone to explore with her, and tell her about the things she can’t see for herself.’
‘And if it’s upsetting for her?’
‘Then you respond to what she’s feeling and stop. Just as long as it’s Mette who’s upset by it, and not you.’
She had a point, and this was a challenge he couldn’t resist. Aksel’s head was beginning to buzz with ideas. ‘Maybe I could take a photograph of them. She might be able to hold that up close and see it.’
‘Maybe she’d like to go this way.’ He started to walk towards the small, sheltered garden at the side of the property and found that Flora was no longer with him. She was standing still, her hands in her pockets, and one eyebrow raised slightly.
If that was the way she wanted to play it. Aksel returned to her side, holding out his arm. ‘I’m going to have to guide her there, of course.’
She nodded, slipping her hand into the crook of his elbow. A frisson of excitement accompanied the feel of her falling into step beside him, and Aksel turned his mind to describing the things around them. The darkening bulk of the stone built castle. The sky, still red from the setting sun, and the clouds off to the east, which promised more snow for tonight.
She slipped so easily into a child-like wonder at the things around her. Aksel was considering asking Flora if she might accompany him and Mette when they set out on their own voyage of exploration, but he guessed what her answer might be.
‘Careful…!’ He’d seen her reach for a rose bush to one side of the path, and Aksel automatically caught her hand, pulling it away. ‘It has thorns.’
Something that had been simmering deep beneath the surface began to swell, almost engulfing him. The thought of rose petals, wet with summer rain and vainly attempting to rival the softness of Flora’s cheeks, made him shiver.
‘All roses do.’ She turned her gaze onto him, and Aksel saw a sudden sadness, quickly hidden. ‘Will you let Mette miss the rose because of its thorns?’
That was a hard thought to contemplate. Aksel guided her hand, so that her fingers could brush the leaves. ‘You must be gentle. In the summer, the rose is the softest of blooms, but the thorns will still hurt you.’
He let her fingers explore the leaves and then the stem, touching the thorns carefully. It seemed to him that the thorns of this world had done Flora some damage, but that she still chose to see roses. She had room in her heart for both Mette and for Dougal, and yet she lived alone. He wanted to ask why, but he didn’t dare.
Flora looked up at him suddenly. ‘What’s next for us to explore, then?’