Second Chance Lane (Brockenridge #2) - Nicola Marsh Page 0,13
given me a shove in the right direction.’ She brandished her phone. ‘I’m making an appointment with a lawyer right now.’
‘Good for you.’
Louise still eyed her warily but for besties who hadn’t spoken in a decade, Jane felt like they’d definitely made progress. ‘Is your number still the same?’
Jane nodded.
‘Once I get my shit together, I might call you.’
‘Great, I really hope you do.’
Giving in to impulse, Jane crossed the room and enveloped her old friend in a hug. After an awkward moment, Louise hugged her back briefly before stepping back.
It gave Jane hope that the friendship she’d valued and stupidly sabotaged might be salvageable after all.
CHAPTER
6
Tash didn’t mind her daughter taking long walks; she preferred Isla exercise than being glued to a screen. She tried to maintain a screen-time limit on Isla’s laptop and mobile but considering Tash worked long shifts, she wasn’t around to monitor Isla all the time and, like any kid, Isla pushed boundaries. She’d considered reducing screen time as further punishment for what Isla had done to Dennie, but it irked that her daughter suffered the brunt of a penalty because of something that was technically not her fault. If she’d told Isla the truth about her father, maybe it wouldn’t be such a big deal when other kids asked her about it. Then again, Isla learning her father was a rock star could potentially bring a whole other set of problems: kids only being interested in her because of her dad and subsequently never knowing if a friendship was real or fake.
No, she’d done the right thing in deflecting the truth again yesterday but it annoyed her that Isla had to miss a month of netball because she’d overreacted to a touchy subject.
She spied her daughter stomping up to the back door so slipped her hands into oven mitts. She’d baked Isla’s favourite, white choc and blueberry muffins. She understood the coach had to discipline Isla as physical violence wasn’t tolerated, but she wished the penalty hadn’t been so harsh.
Isla barrelled through the back door and kicked off her shoes. ‘We have a new neighbour.’
‘Oh?’ Tash opened the oven and reached for the muffin tray.
‘Yeah. He seems cool. A little grumpy though.’ Isla inhaled. ‘That smells so good.’
‘Don’t eat them all at once,’ Tash said, lifting up the tray as Isla said, ‘His name’s Kody.’
The tray slipped from Tash’s grip and clattered against the oven rack. Her hands shook as she steadied the tray, managing not to scorch herself. A second later and the muffins would’ve been all over the floor.
‘Hey, are you okay, Mum? Did you burn yourself?’
‘I’m fine,’ Tash said, her voice sounding weak and reedy. ‘The tray slipped.’
Ridiculous, to have such an over-the-top reaction to a name. There had to be countless men called Kody. What were the odds of her Kody moving in next door? Not that he was hers. He never had been. Not really. Her Kody, the man she’d loved unreservedly, would’ve never accepted her lie. He would’ve known she’d never terminate a baby of theirs. He would’ve come after her, sat her down and figured out a way to make their relationship work.
Instead, she’d been forced to leave her nursing degree behind and come home to Brockenridge, knowing how difficult it would be telling her conservative parents the truth. But never in her wildest dreams had she anticipated they’d shun her, moving away to ‘escape the shame’, leaving her with little savings and having to raise a baby with minimal help.
So he could never be her Kody. Because her Kody only existed in her imagination, a perfect version of an imperfect man.
‘Mum, what’s going on with you?’ Isla touched her arm and Tash jumped, almost upending the muffins again.
‘Just tired,’ she said, backing away from the oven and placing the tray on the sink to cool.
‘I think you’re stuck in a rut,’ Isla said, reaching for a muffin. ‘You need a boyfriend.’
‘Where did that come from?’
‘You don’t date. Which is kind of weird, because you’re young and cool and pretty.’ Isla studied her, head tilted to one side in a gesture so reminiscent of her father that emotion clogged Tash’s throat. ‘I told Kody if he wanted to have dinner any time, he should come over.’
Tash didn’t know whether to hug her daughter for being so welcoming and friendly to a stranger or chastise her for the same. She settled for tweaking Isla’s ponytail. ‘Are you trying to matchmake, young lady?’