Short Soup(5)

“I thought it was time to explore my cultural heritage,” he said to Toni, giving her the same explanation he’d given anyone else who asked.

Looking intrigued, she slurped up a noodle. “And what did you discover? Did you feel as if you’d ‘come home’?”

“I was an oddity. I stuck out like a sore thumb.” He gave a deprecating laugh. “Don’t get me wrong. I had a great time, I learned so much, but at the end of it I was glad to get back here. This is where I feel at home.”

She nodded, an odd expression in her eyes. “East, west, home’s best – right?”

Her soft words wrapped around him, and he found himself staring at her helplessly. Toni, if only you could hear what I want to say to you. But he wasn’t even sure what he wanted to say to her. There’d been a time when he thought he knew. Eighteen months after she’d taken off for Sydney, the eviscerating showdown with his dad had cleared the fog in his brain. He’d seen what he’d become and realised what was missing in his life – Toni, the girl he’d grown up with, the girl he’d always taken for granted, the girl he’d never contemplated in any kind of romantic light. He couldn’t explain what he felt about her, but he knew he had to tell her or he’d burst. So one afternoon he had driven down to Sydney, planning to surprise her, imagining she’d be delighted to see him. But outside her residence hall he’d got the shock of his life.

There, on the smooth lawn was Toni, rolling about with a guy. They were kissing – no, not just kissing, they were practically devouring each other; mouths glued together, arms and legs entwined, panting and groping, oblivious to the rest of the world. He’d been too stunned to move. This couldn’t be his Toni Lau? She’d always been reserved, dignified with her boyfriends. She didn’t allow them to paw at her. But here she was, practically doing the nasty right there in public.

Fury had shot through him. He’d wanted to fling that sleazy snake off her and punch his lights out. Instead, he’d turned around, walked back to his car, and vomited in the bushes.

The guy she’d been making out with was Nick Fleming; the man she’d married. The man who’d cheated on her.

Now, Dion couldn’t pinpoint what he felt for Toni. Once, he’d believed he was in love with her, but after all this time he wasn’t so sure any more. How could he tell if his feelings were real or just fantasy, the result of years of fruitless daydreaming?

“Toni, have some more wonton,” Pearl said. “I made it specially for you.”

Toni turned away, breaking Dion’s concentration. He realised the back of his neck was damp, his hand fisted on his knee, a hard cramp in the centre of his abdomen. Shit, after all these years of wishing Toni was free, now she was, but he wasn’t prepared for the physical shock of her presence.

“Thanks, Mum.” Toni beamed at her mother as she accepted a bowl brimming with clear broth and wontons. “My favourite. Haven’t had this in ages.”

Dion continued to gaze at her as she lifted the spoon to her mouth. When she pursed her lips to blow on the hot soup, his stomach clenched even harder. His emotions might be scrambled, but there was no denying what his body wanted. The years of fantasising had only sharpened his appetite.

“Mm.” Closing her eyes, she let out a sigh. “Yeah, that hits the spot.” Her eyes fluttered open, caught him staring at her. She blushed faintly. “I hope you haven’t taken my mum’s wontons off the menu at the Happy Palace.”

He cleared his throat. “No. I wouldn’t dare.” But he had altered the recipe a little, something he wasn’t going to admit right now. No point kicking up a storm of protest. Let everyone try them first and then they could criticise him if they wanted.

Pearl nodded at him. “You can’t make these wonton in a restaurant anyway. At home I mix ingredients by hand, not a machine. Tastes much better.” She eyed her daughter calculatingly. “Maybe I teach you while you’re here.”

“Dion’s the cook, not me.”

“What about when I’m gone?”

Toni’s mother didn’t look like she was going any time soon. Toni shrugged her shoulders. “Well, Dion can make wonton, then.”

“Maybe Dion too busy.” Pearl fixed her daughter with a steely gaze. “Maybe Dion not always around for you.”

An awkward pause developed. Toni glanced at him, surprise flickering across her face. Was that because she couldn’t imagine him not being around? All her life she’d taken him for granted. He couldn’t blame her; he had been the same way with her, once. Not any more. He wanted her to sit up and take notice of him. He stared at her lips still moist from the soup. Maybe he should just put his arm around her waist right now, pull her into him, and kiss that damn delicious mouth of hers. That would get her attention.

Toni dipped her head, almost embarrassed, and he wondered if she’d read his mind. “You’re right, Mum,” she murmured to her mother. “I should take a few lessons from you.”

Pearl nodded, pleased. “Once you know, it’s not hard at all.”

Toni shifted about in her chair. He felt her pulling away from him, maybe uncomfortable by what she’d seen in his expression just then. He didn’t mind. At least she sensed things between them were different now.





Chapter 3


After dinner, Toni and Dion cleaned up as usual. They stacked the dishwasher, packed leftovers into the fridge, wiped down the table. The parents had moved to the living room, where they settled down to a few rounds of mah jong. Falling into the habits of a lifetime, Toni and Dion retreated to the back porch. Here her father had fitted flyscreens to the open sides, hung up baskets of ferns, and put in some chairs and benches. Dion stretched out on a banana lounge. Toni took a folding chair near him.

“You want more wine? A beer, maybe?” she asked, noticing the can of Coke in his hand.

He shook his head. “Coke’s fine. I’ve got a busy day tomorrow.”

Nodding, she took a sip of her own soft drink.

“Just like old times, huh?” Dion said after a few moments’ silence.

“Yeah.”

When their parents played mah jong she and Dion always hung out together. She would usually have her nose in a book. Dion wasn’t that much into books. He’d read a comic or practise on his guitar or cajole her into playing board games with him. She leaned her head against the wall. From the house came the faint sounds of the mah jong players – the clicking of tiles, the occasional cries of “pung”, the “ahs” as someone declared mah jong followed by a rushing chatter as tiles were washed and walls rebuilt. The sounds were embedded in her psyche, the backdrop to her childhood, as familiar to her as the taste of her mother’s cooking. She ought to be completely relaxed, but she wasn’t. In fact she’d been jittery ever since she’d opened the front door and saw Dion standing there looking devastatingly attractive.

She sneaked a sideways peek at him. The simple navy blue shirt fitted snugly across his shoulders, tapering down to his trim waist. His pressed cotton trousers hugged the length of his legs. His hair was crisp and dark, and his skin glowed like polished copper. Her stomach tensed as something swirled low in her belly. Dion had always been good looking, confident without being arrogant, but since bumping into him this afternoon it was as if she was seeing him in a new light. Suddenly he wasn’t just the friend she took for granted. Now he was a drop dead sexy hunk wreaking havoc with her senses. A gorgeous man who had her all a-flutter, who made her want to reach out and touch him, badly.

She must be turning crazy. This was Dion, for heaven’s sakes, the boy who’d once stuffed a grasshopper down the back of her shirt. The boy who’d tried to convince her a bottle of pee was lemonade. The teenager who’d preferred to go surfing with his friends than study with her for their finals. How could she have the hots for him?

Biting her lip, she looked away. It made no sense. Her body was out of control. Maybe it was just a post-divorce hormonal thing. Maybe she just needed to spend a few more days in Dion’s company for her confusion to die down. Yes, that was it. She hadn’t seen him in ages, and she’d forgotten what he was like. A few days hanging out with him and she’d quickly realise he was just the same old Dion she’d always known and whatever he was stirring in her would naturally calm down.

The silence between them was becoming more than awkward. She cleared her throat. “So, tell me about the restaurant. How did you manage to wrest control from the parents?”

He threw a brief glance towards the house before lowering his voice. “To be honest, it was time for a drastic change. Business has been getting worse these past few years.”

“Oh.” Toni frowned. “I didn’t know that. My parents haven’t said a thing.”

Dion tapped the top of his Coke can, his expression thoughtful. “Years ago we had the only Asian restaurant in Piper Bay, but there’s a lot more competition these days. Now there’s Thai, Japanese, Korean. Plus, the clientele has changed. They expect something different.”

She nodded in agreement. Their parents were good cooks, but when they’d first opened the restaurant they’d adapted their food to suit more conservative palates, and over the years they’d stuck to the same formula. “I guess fewer people want Westernised Chinese food these days.”