Second Chance Lane Page 25

  ‘And after that?’

  He shrugged. ‘I might seek out a new challenge.’

  ‘Sounds like you have it all planned out,’ she said, hoping he didn’t hear the disappointment in her tone.

  A tiny frown dented his brow. ‘What’s with the twenty questions regarding the patisserie and my plans?’

  Jane could hedge around this. She could bluff her way out of it. But if she’d decided to finally confront her mother and expose all the lies, maybe she should stop lying to herself?

  ‘I’m trying to ascertain whether you’re worth taking a chance on.’

  Mason’s eyes widened in surprise, before his mouth eased into a grin. ‘Have you come to a decision?’

  ‘Not yet, but I’m working on it.’

  ‘Don’t take too long.’ He crooked his finger and she leaned forwards until their faces were only inches apart. ‘Because being a master pastry chef means I can do wicked things with honey.’

  How was a girl supposed to respond to that?

  CHAPTER

  36

  Kody whistled under his breath, a nameless tune he wanted to get down on paper. His muse had fled that night in Wellington and for the first time since then he itched to grab a pencil and some blank sheet music and get creative. Though if he were honest with himself, he hadn’t felt inspired for a long time before the New Zealand leg of the tour. He’d been stagnating, going through the motions of performing, craving some R&R. Hiding out here hadn’t been what he’d envisaged but the isolation had forced him to confront a lot. Including his feelings for Tash, feelings he’d thought had been destroyed thirteen years ago.

  She’d dropped him home after their incredible evening together and he’d been wandering aimlessly through the house since. He knew he should contact Yanni and the boys to tell them the good news—as soon as the walking boot came off he’d be heading down to Melbourne to jam with them—but it felt too soon to be making that call and facing Yanni’s astute stare when he was still floating. Yanni would take one look at his smug face and know exactly what had transpired between him and Tash.

  Kody could hardly believe it himself. Their sizzling encounter in the roadhouse had been impulsive, born of the adrenalin surge from conquering his stage fright. But later at her place, in her bed, they’d had the best sex. Several times. Their connection left him reeling. How easily they’d slipped back into being comfortable with each other, like they’d never been apart.

  Usually, he never looked back. Once he’d broken off with a casual partner, he’d never return. It didn’t bode well to build false hope. With Tash, it was different. Comfortable. Not the sex, that had been mind-blowing, but the aftermath. He’d even opened up to her about the concert and it had felt okay. She’d always had that effect on him, the ability to soothe without trying.

  When they’d first met in Melbourne it had been a bit of a lark for him to get her to lighten up. She’d been so staid, so studious, that he’d played up his bad-boy angle and she’d loved it. But she’d grounded him too in a way he never knew he needed. Losing her had set off a chain reaction. Personally, he’d spiralled: drinking too much, screwing as many women as he could. Professionally, he’d shot to the top. When he’d eventually got tired of drowning his sorrows and revenge sex, he embraced the fame and all that came with it. But he’d never forgotten the man he’d been with Tash, if only for a short time. The other night, he’d felt that same sense of calm being with her again.

  It almost made him regret not telling her about the appointment he had scheduled for later today. But he hadn’t wanted to ruin things and he knew any mention of lawyers would’ve done exactly that. He’d made the appointment after that first time they kissed because he’d known then things could get complicated and he didn’t want anything happening between them to interfere with the custody agreement. But they’d done a whole lot more than kissing now and it seemed imperative they institute rules when it came to Isla’s future.

  He doubted Tash had any expectations where he was concerned. She knew he was leaving town so their night together could only ever be a spectacular one-off—unless Isla had another sleepover scheduled in the next few weeks. But he couldn’t contemplate it. The night with Tash had been special but a repeat could give her ideas, namely there was a chance they’d reunite when nothing could be further from the truth.

  He couldn’t have a long-distance relationship. He hated the thought of Tash waiting for him in this tiny town, expecting him to visit during his downtime to dole out scraps of affection. He wouldn’t do that to her, because she deserved so much better. Now that he’d be sharing custody of Isla, maybe she’d have more time for a relationship with someone local, someone who could give her what he couldn’t: stability, permanency, adoration.

  So why did the thought of her hooking up with some country yokel leave Kody feeling like he’d been dunked in an ice bath?

  This is what happened when sex entered the equation. It screwed with his brain and made him overthink. Which was why the appointment this afternoon was so important. It should be simple: meet with the lawyer; get the custody agreement sorted; contact the band; make plans for the future.

  With Isla in his life, he’d have to curtail the touring, which he’d already been hoping to scale back anyway. And he’d have to buy a place in Melbourne, a house maybe, with a backyard and a pool, somewhere she’d enjoy chilling when she visited.

  His first real home.

  Perhaps Isla would like to help him choose? It made him feel like a god, being able to give his child anything she wanted when his own childhood had been so shitty. He’d do anything to make her happy.

  At the risk of making her mother unhappy?

  He scowled, wishing his voice of reason would shut the hell up. He knew what Tash would think once he started lavishing Isla with possessions: she’d think Kody was buying her off. But he wasn’t. He wanted to make sure his child wanted for nothing, the way he’d often yearned for a gaming console or a smartphone or the latest sneakers. He’d have to be careful, because he didn’t want Tash to feel like it was a competition between them for Isla. And he didn’t want Isla to undervalue the many important life lessons her mother was teaching her, the kind money couldn’t buy.

  Yeah, this coparenting thing would be a minefield, one potential explosion after another, but by getting the legalities sorted out he’d have one less thing to worry about.

  As he headed for the shower, whistling the same tune he had to flesh out later, he had a feeling there’d be plenty to worry about when he delivered the agreement to Tash.

  CHAPTER

  37

  As much as Jane would’ve liked to invite Mason back to her place after dinner, she’d resisted, because she couldn’t quite shake the feeling that sleeping with him too soon would set her back. He was the first guy she’d really liked in a long time and she wanted to do this right, so as soon as dinner finished she insisted he head back to the patisserie to supervise the installation of the light fittings and she’d headed home. To spend the night tossing and turning with erotic dreams of a tall, blond baker with particularly strong hands brandishing honey.

  But it wasn’t broken sleep making her cranky this morning. The minute she opened her eyes, Jane knew she had to see her mother. If she was even considering getting serious with Mason for however long he was in town for, she wanted to confront her insecurities and that meant a chat with Mummy dearest.

  After a quick call that Gladys picked up—meaning she was home—Jane hung up and drove out of town. As a kid, she’d never noticed the poverty of some farms on the outskirts of Brockenridge, or the barren brown land that became drier by the day. She’d been too absorbed by online shopping, ordering the latest designer jeans and T-shirts and make-up. Her father had indulged her and Gladys hadn’t cared what she bought as long as she looked good. She hadn’t forgotten being young, stupid and selfish, which is why she donated so freely to local causes now.

  She tried to mentally rehearse what she
’d say. I know the truth about you yet I wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt regardless. I have a reason to be mad at you because you drove Dad to his death, what’s your excuse? Why do you hate me so much?

  All valid questions but she knew when she came face to face with Gladys, her calmly rehearsed questions would mean nothing unless her mother actually wanted to listen to reason for once.

  As she turned into the circular driveway, her hands gripped the steering wheel tighter so she wouldn’t be tempted to keep going and drive out the other side. Every muscle tensed and she broke out in a sweat, a typical fight-or-flight reaction she’d had since she was a kid and Gladys would glare at her like she was a giant inconvenience.

  Gladys must spend her entire day looking out the window because Jane had barely parked and stepped from her car before the front door opened. Today her mother wore a bottle green jumpsuit that made her look like she’d stepped off a catwalk. Her hair was styled in a chignon, showing off the emerald studs in her earlobes. And she wore heels, three-inch stilettos. Who did that when lounging around at home? Gladys Jefferson did, because life was all about looks for her. She didn’t care about anybody else.

  ‘Jane, what a lovely surprise—’

  ‘Save your pleasantries,’ Jane said, pushing past her. ‘I’ve got something to say and it’s long overdue.’

  ‘By all means, make yourself at home,’ Gladys muttered, her sarcasm something Jane was well used to.

  Jane stomped into the study because it was the nearest room. When Gladys entered, Jane slammed the door.

  ‘These theatrics are beneath you—’

  ‘I know!’ Jane yelled, immediately regretting the outburst. She’d vowed to be calm for this, knowing indifference would hurt Gladys more than drama. ‘I know why you never bonded with me and why you drove Dad to his death.’

  ‘I don’t know what you think you know—’

  ‘I heard that last argument you had with Dad before he drove into that tree.’

  ‘That’s nonsense. Your father didn’t kill himself. It was an accident.’

  ‘Was it?’ She pinned her mother with a disgusted glare but, predictably, Gladys didn’t flinch. She’d put in too many years presenting a perfectly poised front to let her mask slip now.

  Her mother waved her away like a bothersome fly. ‘I don’t know why you’re bringing up all this pointless speculation now.’

  ‘Because this is the end, Mother. I’m done playing your game.’ She snorted, an unladylike sound she knew Gladys hated. ‘Haven’t you ever wondered why I never moved away? Why I stay in this dead-end town where everyone knows everyone else’s business?’

  Gladys opened her mouth to respond and Jane held up her hand. ‘I’m not interested in anything you have to say. I stayed because the moment I heard that argument between you and Dad, I knew I couldn’t leave.’ Jane jabbed a finger at her mother, surprised when she flinched. ‘Because I wanted to make your life a misery, exactly like you made mine and Dad’s.’

  For the first time in a long time, Gladys appeared uncertain. Her gaze darted away, only to return to Jane, before sliding away again. Jane supposed she was trying to come up with some plausible excuse for what Jane had heard on the day her perfect world came tumbling down.

  ‘Even after that awful night, I gave you a chance. I thought you might need time to grieve, to get past your guilt, so I left you alone out of respect. Then I came to you later, thinking it was long enough for you to deal with everything, hoping you’d open up to me. I wanted you to confide in me, to say it had all been a horrendous mistake, an argument that had gone horribly awry. And what did you do?’ Bitterness tightened Jane’s throat. ‘You made me feel bad for staying away. And you blamed me for the crappy relationship we’ve had since I could walk.’

  Gladys blanched, her pallor more startling than before. ‘You’re right, I did feel guilty.’

  ‘So why did you take it out on me? I heard everything. How you only had a child as an adjunct to secure your perfect life. As a way to keep your rich husband, when you’d never wanted a child in the first place. How I meant nothing to you. How you despised Dad for fawning over me. That you hated him and wished he was dead.’

  Even now, all these years later, Jane couldn’t bear thinking about the depths of her mother’s dislike for her. The shocking truths she’d overheard that night explained why, when Jane had been growing up, nothing she ever did pleased Gladys, why her mother treated her like an annoyance, why Jane had tried so hard to be like her but always fell short.

  ‘You don’t know everything,’ Gladys said, her docility as shocking as the pain in her eyes. ‘In fact, you know nothing.’

  ‘I know enough, Mum. I heard everything.’

  The remaining colour leached from Gladys’s face, the blush on her cheekbones looking almost clownish. ‘Your father was gay.’

  Jane stared in disbelief at her mother, horrified by the lengths Gladys would go to in order to disparage her father even now.

  ‘He was,’ Gladys said. ‘I had you via artificial insemination.’

  Jane swayed and clutched the nearest bookshelf to steady herself. Of all the outlandish excuses, this one was a doozy.

  ‘I knew he was gay when we married, but he needed a wife to stay in his parents’ good books and inherit their sizeable fortune. And I needed money. We were housemates in Albury, we got along well, it seemed like a plausible story to tell everyone that we fell in love.’

  Gladys bit her bottom lip, smearing fuchsia lipstick across her teeth. ‘Your father was a good man and a marriage of convenience wasn’t the worst thing in the world. It suited our purposes. But you’re right about one thing. I needed a child to ensure I wouldn’t lose everything if he ever decided to come out of the closet and cast me aside. So yes, you were a calculated decision born out of my need for financial security.’

  Jane expected having her mum confirm the truth to hurt but she never anticipated the burning pain cleaving her chest in two.

  ‘That day you heard us arguing, your father had told me he’d met someone. That he was tired of living a lie. That he wanted to end our marriage …’ She shook her head, the trembling of her lower lip the only time Jane had ever seen her mother near tears. ‘Could you imagine what kind of laughing stock I would’ve been?’

  Her mother’s eyes narrowed, their nasty glitter more like the Gladys Jane knew. ‘I wouldn’t let him do that to me, so we had that massive row you overheard … I said some harsh things—’

  ‘Like how he’d be better off dead?’ Horrible words Jane couldn’t fathom at the time and now she knew the truth could never forgive her for. ‘You ultimately drove Dad to his death.’

  Gladys’s shoulders sagged like she bore a huge invisible weight. ‘I didn’t think he’d actually do it … I was angry. And terrified that the life I’d built would come crumbling down around my ears.’

  ‘Would it have been so bad? Coming clean with the truth rather than living a lie for so long?’

  ‘If you have to ask that, you don’t know me at all.’ Gladys tilted her head up in defiance and reassembled the mask she wore with aplomb. ‘I love my life, Jane. I put up with a sexless marriage and lived with a man who could never be more than my friend for twenty years. And I wasn’t about to throw it all away because your father wanted to prance on a float in the Mardi Gras.’

  Appalled at her callousness, Jane said, ‘Dad was a good man. I adored him and I’m sad he had to hide his sexuality for so many years. Knowing the truth would’ve changed nothing for me. I loved him.’

  Gladys wrinkled her nose. ‘The way he doted on you made my decisions easier to bear. Because every time he indulged you, I saw it as a reward for the lengths I’d gone to in order to have the kind of life I deserved.’

  ‘Money can’t buy happiness, Mum.’ Jane took a step closer, feeling nothing but pity for this empty shell of a woman. ‘Are you happy?’

  ‘Of course,’ Gladys said, flashing a bright, brittle smile. ‘I have
everything I want.’

  ‘But you don’t have me anymore, Mum. I’m done.’

  Gladys’s smile faltered. ‘Don’t be ridiculous. I’m your mother—’

  ‘You’ve only ever been a mother in name only. I never understood why you didn’t like me when I was growing up. So I copied you, hoping you’d acknowledge me, but you didn’t, even when I swanned around school, flaunting myself, making sure everyone knew I was so much better than all of them …’ Jane’s throat tightened with disgust but she had to finish this so she could walk away once and for all. ‘I hated the way you treated me. Then when I heard your argument, and how the lack of skid marks on the road cast doubt as to whether Dad’s death was an accident or not, I blamed you. So I did the one thing guaranteed to pay you back. I let people believe the worst about me, and did my utmost to disrupt your perfect bloody life.’

  Breathing ragged, Jane held up her hands and backed towards the door. ‘So now you know why, when I walk out of here, I’m never coming back.’

  Jane had finally realised it wouldn’t matter how many places she redecorated around here, how many old friendships she rekindled, how much she tried to revamp her image, people would always know her as Gladys Jefferson’s daughter, the woman who’d frittered away the last decade.

  The only option for a fresh start was to leave.

  ‘I’m leaving town,’ Jane said, liking the sound of those decisive words. ‘I’m so tired of this.’ She waved a hand between the two of them. ‘Of us.’

  Gladys took a step forwards, halted, something akin to sorrow in her eyes. ‘Jane, now you know the whole truth, maybe we can get past this—’

  ‘You honestly think it’s that simple?’ Weariness seeped through Jane’s body, and she sagged against the nearest wall. ‘Even now I know Dad was gay, I still don’t understand any of this. Why you hated me when it was your choice to have a child, albeit for selfish reasons? Why you chose to make life harder for me all these years? Why you told Lou those lies about Ed and me? Why you tried to sabotage my work with Mason?’