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John winced as his mother prattled on. She had a huge heart but she could be overwhelming to people who weren’t used to her ebullient, extroverted style.
Tuti pulled out of Alison’s arms and took a step back. She glanced at John and took another step back.
“It’s okay,” he assured her. “Don’t be shy.”
Alison held out a doll and tried to get Tuti to take it. “This is the latest toy, I’m told. All the little girls in Summerside have one. You want to be just like all the other children, don’t you?”
Tears started in Tuti’s eyes. She bit her lip then, without a word, turned and ran from the room.
“Oh, dear.” Alison’s manicured fingertips went to her lips. “What’s wrong? Doesn’t she like dolls?”
“You came on a tad strong.” John hadn’t realized until now how much his mother must want him to have children. She didn’t try this hard with his sisters’ kids. He was counting on her to ease him into fathering Tuti, to taking some of the burden of responsibility off him. If Tuti was afraid of her, that wasn’t going to work out so well. “It’s her first day. Give her time. She’ll get used to you.”
At least, that’s what he hoped. He glanced at the hallway down which Tuti had disappeared. Through work he dealt with juvenile offenders. On the other end of the spectrum were his nieces and nephews—well-adjusted children from loving homes, comfortable if not well-off, who all had two parents.
It brought home to him again how out of his depth he was with Tuti. Not only from another culture, speaking another language, but she’d recently lost her mother. Really, what did he know about raising a kid like Tuti?
“Thanks for the clothes and toys,” he said to his mother. “Help yourself to coffee. I’ll go talk to Tuti.”
He grabbed a teddy bear and some clothes and found her huddled beneath her blankets. Without a word, he handed the stuffed toy to her and waited, using the time to figure out how to explain the strange woman who’d hugged her too hard. He couldn’t remember, if he ever knew, the Balinese word for grandmother. After a few minutes Tuti emerged, her cheeks streaked with drying tears. She clutched the teddy bear to her chest and looked at him with huge dark eyes.
“The lady—” John pointed in the direction of the kitchen then at himself. “My meme.”
Tuti blinked.
“You’re my child,” John tried again. “I’m her child.”
Tuti looked blank.
He sighed. Should he insist she come out and be polite? He had no idea what child-rearing manuals would say about that. If Tuti were an Australian kid being obstinate, he would probably do just that. But she was far from home, cold, and this was her first day. Instinct told him not to insist on anything. He would make excuses to his mother and ask her to come another day.
“Never mind. Here, let’s put something warmer on you.” He pulled out the long-sleeved top. “Do you like pink?”
At the sight of the sparkly design on the front of the shirt Tuti got out of the blankets and stood before him, shivering. John helped her dress, wondering what he’d gotten himself into. He’d blundered his way through this time. But if his mother couldn’t connect with Tuti what hope did he have?
* * *
“GET OUT YOUR notebooks and pencils, boys and girls.” Katie pointed to the carefully drawn alphabet on the blackboard. “Copy out the letters in your very best printing.”
Heads went down, paper rustled, several tongues were tucked into the corners of mouths as the class of grade-one students got down to work. With a few minutes of quiet Katie sat at her desk and corrected arithmetic assignments.
A knock came at the door. She opened it to John, wearing his police uniform and a grim expression. Her first thought was that something had happened to Riley, and she pressed a hand to her chest to ease a flutter.
He must have seen her anxiety. “There’s nothing wrong.”
“Thank goodness.” Her second fleeting thought, which bothered her in a different way, was how good he looked, his broad shoulders filling out a crisp blue shirt topped by epaulets, and his navy pants with the sharp crease emphasizing the length of his legs.
Then a movement at his side drew her gaze to a little girl clinging to his hand. She was dressed in the school uniform, a blue-and-white gingham dress, one size too big. Her black eyes were huge and terrified. Tear tracks traced her round cheeks. One of the tiny silver circles in her pierced ears was twisted up. And her little pigtails, which stuck straight out from her head, were lopsided and uneven.
Katie’s heart melted. Poor sweet thing. Had he found her wandering somewhere in Summerside and brought her to school? Why hadn’t he taken her to the office? “Who do we have here?”
“Sorry to interrupt,” John said. “This is Tuti. I tried to get here before class began so I could introduce you. But first I had to buy the uniform then I had to get her to wear it. She’s not used to hard leather shoes....” He trailed off with a harassed expression. “Tuti, this is Miss Henning. She’ll be your new teacher.”
Tuti. The girl who lived near a jungle. She looked like she could be Balinese. Had he brought this child to Australia for a visit? Why would he enroll her in school temporarily?
“I don’t understand,” Katie said. “Who is she?”
John cleared his throat and met her gaze. “Tuti is my daughter.”
She stared at him. Surely she hadn’t heard correctly. “Your…?”
“Daughter.” His hand on Tuti’s shoulder tightened protectively. “She’ll be six years old next month.”
Katie laughed, a slightly hysterical sound. She clapped a hand over her mouth, aware that her reaction was inappropriate. And must appear bizarre to her pupils, not to mention to Tuti.
“I don’t understand,” she said again. How could he have had a child without her? Idiot. Of course he could have. They broke up years ago. He’d left her. Since he’d returned to Summerside he’d never been without a girlfriend for long. He could have fathered a dozen children.
But how was it that she’d known nothing about this Tuti? Who was her mother and why had John brought her here? Did Riley know about her? Questions crowded her mind, confusing her. Emotions she didn’t understand made her chest ache. But this wasn’t the time or the place to try to make sense of things. The little girl already looked distressed.
Katie collected herself and forced a smile. “I’m pleased to meet you, Tuti. Would you like to join the class?”
The little girl pressed closer to John and turned her face into his waist, her pigtails quivering.
“Does she speak English?” Katie asked.
“A little but she hasn’t said a word since she got here three days ago.” John’s eyes pleaded with Katie. “I’m sure she’ll get up to speed quickly but in the meantime she’ll need extra help.”
“I already have a full class—the administration knows that,” Katie said. “She’d be better off with Phoebe Mallon. Phoebe has another English-as-a-second-language student.”
“I asked specifically for you. Your assistant principal said it would be okay.” When Katie didn’t reply to that, he added, “I don’t know Phoebe Mallon. I know you. I know how much you love kids. I want someone who will care about her.”
Care about his child with another woman. Really?
Behind her, shifting chairs and whispers told her the pupils had finished their work and were getting restless. Probably curious, too, about the new girl. Dragging this out wouldn’t help Tuti. John was right about one thing. Katie loved children and she was a soft touch. She would make room for the girl in her class.
“I’m going to read the class a story, Tuti,” Katie said. “Do you like stories?”
Tuti stilled. Then she glanced up at John as if looking for confirmation.
He nodded. “Story…book.” He added to Katie, “We’ve just about worn out the pages on yours.” He turned back to Tuti. “Miss Henning is the lady who wrote Lizzy And Monkey.”
Tuti brightened a little.
John crouched so he was eye level. “I have to go to work, Tuti. I’ll come back for you this afternoon.” Her bottom lip wobbled. He brushed her cheek with his knuckles. “Chin up,” he said, his voice gruff.
Seeing his awkward, tender display of affection, Katie felt a reluctant tug at her heart. Of course she’d always known John would be great with kids. He was a favorite uncle. It made sense he would be a natural as a father.
Tuti looked about to cry. To forestall the waterworks Katie held out her hand to Tuti. “Come with me,” she said warmly. “You can sit with Belinda.” She gestured to a girl with curly brown hair in the front row. Belinda liked to be teacher’s pet but Katie knew she would be kind and helpful. “Belinda, will you come and show Tuti where to sit for story time? Class, this is Tuti. Please welcome her.”
The students parroted, obediently if raggedly, “Welcome, Tuti.”
Belinda took Tuti’s hand, fussy and full of self-importance. “We have to get a chair and go sit in a circle. You can sit beside me.” Then she added in a whisper, “Don’t cry. It’ll be all right.”
The children got up and moved to the story circle at the back of the class, the girls talking, the boys pushing. Tuti followed Belinda, holding tightly to the other girl’s hand.
John ran a hand through his hair and blew out a heartfelt sigh. “Thanks. I appreciate this.”
“I’m doing it for Tuti.” Katie fixed him with a stern glance. “We’ll need to talk about how best to integrate her into the school community. Please see me this afternoon after class.”
John’s mouth twitched. “Yes, ma’am.”
“This isn’t a joking matter.” She didn’t like being put on the spot. She didn’t like how John had taken advantage of their history. And she didn’t like that he’d had a child with another woman so soon after he’d left her. It didn’t take a math whiz to calculate that Tuti had been conceived within a few months of his departure. When she was still sick with cancer. He and Tuti’s mother must have been making love while she was lying in her hospital bed.
“Yes, I’ll do anything for my kids. But get one thing straight. You don’t know me.”
John’s lips flattened. “Whatever. As long as we’re on the same page with regards to Tuti. I’ll see you at three-thirty.”
He left and Katie turned back to her class. Belinda was chatting away seemingly oblivious to the fact that Tuti hadn’t said a word. Tuti glanced up at Katie, and across the room something tugged at Katie’s heart. Oh, no. No, no, no. She wasn’t going to fall for John’s little girl. She would do her best for Tuti as a teacher but that’s where it had to end. For seven years she’d avoided contact with him. The last thing she wanted was a reason to spend time with John Forster.
* * *
THE HALLS WERE empty when John returned to Katie’s classroom door that afternoon. Was she going to make him write out lines on the blackboard? I must not bring home foreign children.
Frankly, he wondered if he’d made a mistake in doing so. It was one thing to feel a familial connection to Tuti and another thing for a bachelor to make a home for a little girl he barely knew and couldn’t communicate with.
Last night she’d cried herself to sleep. He’d put it down to tiredness, homesickness and unfamiliar surroundings. He’d tucked her into bed with the doll his mother had brought, but when he’d checked on her in the night, again he’d found her rolled in a blanket on the floor. He’d carried her back to bed. In the morning she’d been back on the floor.
Breakfast this morning was another disaster. He couldn’t comb her hair into a proper pigtail to save his soul. He’d run out of cereal and she didn’t like toast with Vegemite, or bacon and eggs. In the end he’d found a mango in the back of the fridge.
She had been excited about going to school. Until, that is, she’d seen the huge building and the hordes of children in the playground. He couldn’t blame her for being shy—the population of the school was larger than her village—but he didn’t know how to deal with it. All his nieces and nephews were outgoing, gregarious kids.
He knocked on Katie’s classroom door. She was a quiet person. She must be able to relate to Tuti.
“Come in.” Seated at her desk, Katie was placing big tick marks in a notebook filled with printing practice. “Sit down.”
John glanced around for Tuti. She was curled up in a beanbag chair at the back of the room, her nose buried in a picture book. She glanced up, but he motioned for her to stay there while he spoke with her teacher. Gingerly, he lowered himself onto a chair made for a six-year-old, not a grown man, a tall one at that. Feeling ridiculous and at a distinct disadvantage, he waited while Katie finished the notebook she was marking.
She took her time, writing an encouraging note and adding a parrot sticker. Finally she put down her red pencil, closed the notebook and placed it atop the stack on her right. She folded her hands on her desk. “So.”
John could still recall his grade-one teacher. Mrs. Renwich had frizzy orange hair, wore glasses on a long chain that sat on her ample bosom and smelled like corned beef. Katie was the complete opposite. Silky dark hair that waved softly around her shoulders, a sweet floral scent, a ready smile and the kindest eyes he’d ever known. Right now she made him more nervous than Mrs. Renwich ever had.
He was still chafing over the way she had said he didn’t know her. True, it had been a long time since they’d been together, and she’d undoubtedly changed some. But how was he supposed to know her if she kept refusing to talk to him?
“How did Tuti do today?”
“There are issues. Before we get to those I’m interested in knowing what type of environment she’s come from. It will help me deal with her individual needs.” Katie lowered her voice. “Have you always known you had a child?”
Since he wanted her help with Tuti, he guessed she had a right to ask. John looked her in the eye. “Yes. I met Nena, that’s Tuti’s mother, a month into my stay in Bali back in—”
“I know what year you were there.”
He cleared his throat. Of course she did. Tuti’s birth date was on her enrollment form. Katie would have figured out her conception to the day. “Nena was a lovely person. We had a good time together, while it lasted. The baby wasn’t planned, but once Nena found out she was pregnant she wanted the child. What she hadn’t wanted was an Australian husband.”
He stopped, aware he was giving too much information, justifying himself, explaining more than necessary because of his and Katie’s past.
“Was a lovely person?” Katie said.
“Nena died in a motorcycle accident. That’s why I went to Bali, for her funeral. The women there sometimes ride sidesaddle—in sarongs. Often not wearing a helmet. Half the time hanging on to a kid or a basket of fruit or chickens. It’s—” He shook his head. “Never mind. It’s the way they do things there. It’s just lucky Tuti wasn’t with her at the time.”
Katie stared at her hands turning the red pen over and over. “You’re sure she’s yours?”
“Positive.” This had to be hard for Katie. They’d talked about having children together many times. Even got around to picking out names. Or he’d tried to. She could never agree with him on when they should start a family. Or even choose a wedding date.
“What made you decide to bring her home with you?”
“I had to.” John shifted position on the small chair with a grimace. The edge was digging into his butt. “When I went to Bali I fully intended to pay my respects, make sure she was provided for, and scram.”
“But?” Katie’s dark eyebrows rose.
“It wasn’t that simple. The day after the funeral she showed me where she went to school. It was little more than a shack, with no facilities. I asked her uncle, Wayan, to send her to school in a bigger town and I would pay. He told me she wouldn’t be going back to school. She was needed at home to look after her younger cousin.”
Katie frowned. “Aren’t there laws that say children have to attend school?”
“Yes, but they’re not always enforced. School is pretty hit-and-miss for some Balinese. Ex-pats and rich locals attend school regularly. The poor, not so much.”
“And is her family poor?”
“They weren’t too badly off when Nena was alive and contributing her paycheck. Wayan is a fisherman, but he barely catches enough to feed the family. Nena supported not only herself and Tuti, but helped support Wayan and his family. It’s not their fault. The old way of life based on farming and livestock has broken down, fish stocks are depleted and the people are dependent on tourism. But tourism has been down in recent years.”
“That’s rough.” Katie rubbed her thumb over her knuckles. “But do the monetary concerns outweigh the advantages of her living with a family she’s grown up with? Surely you could afford to plug the gap that Nena left and let Tuti stay there.”
“I’m keeping up payments to the family.” John blew out sharply through his nostrils. Katie didn’t want to know him, yet she thought she could tell him how to run his life. “I’ve made my decision. Which, I may add, is my decision to make.”
Katie tapped her pencil on the desk. “Decisions can be reversed if a mistake has been made.”
“I’m not going to chop and change the poor kid. She’s staying and that’s final.” John stopped himself from showing his frustration. Regardless of his feelings, he needed Katie on his side, for Tuti’s sake. “I hadn’t planned on bringing her back. But when I saw her—” If Katie didn’t want to know him anymore he wasn’t going to tell how Tuti had reminded him of himself as a child and of his mother. “I couldn’t leave her. She might not realize it now or for a few years, but someday she would think back and realize I’d just walked away from her. She would think she didn’t matter to me.”
Katie went still, her dark eyes simmering. “And now, after seven years, her existence does matter?”
Suddenly the air was charged with the memory of how he’d walked away from her. Didn’t Katie know that she’d been everything to him? Couldn’t she understand that he never would have left if she hadn’t pushed him away? They’d gone to the mat over her refusal to get a mastectomy, which he’d been told was the best option to ensure her long-term survival. Instead, she’d tried all sorts of crazy herbal treatments, hours of meditation, eating only raw organic food—he didn’t know what all—before finally accepting chemotherapy followed by a lumpectomy and radiation treatment.
Remembering Tuti was in the room, he glanced over his shoulder. She’d left the picture book and was playing with the class guinea pig, poking a sliver of carrot through the bars of the cage. He still didn’t know how much she understood and how much of her silence was due to her being overwhelmed by her new life. She seemed oblivious to the conversation.
“Seeing her in person tipped the scales,” he went on. “Until a few weeks ago she’s been…abstract. Nena had convinced me Tuti was better off if I wasn’t in her life at all rather than be a stranger who dropped in every once in a while.”
“Personally, I would agree with that.”
Katie sat there judging him when she had no idea. No idea. “Maybe it was better, maybe not. But once I’d met her, staying away wasn’t better for me. She’s—” He searched for the words. “She’s flesh of my flesh.”
