Free Her Great Expectations by Joan Kilby

that?” When Renita glanced away, she couldn’t help pursuing the point. “I don’t mean to be judgmental, but I can’t imagine not having a purpose in life. The philosophy of living purely for today makes no sense.”
    Renita offered her a sad smile. “When your past has been wiped out and you can’t bear the thought of the future, the present is all you have.”
    Sienna was silenced momentarily at the thought of Jack’s grief. Then she said, “You just have to pick yourself up and keep going.”
    “That’s what he’s doing,” Renita replied.
    Sienna bit her lip. She should just butt out. This was not professional. Her mother always told her to remember she was a doctor, not a friend or a therapist or a relative. Jack wasn’t even her patient. “Look, I’m sorry. This is none of my business. Forget I said anything.”
    Renita twisted the sodden tissue. “This might be premature, but Lexie and I were hoping that you and he might get together…”
    That such a gorgeous man came with two cool sisters was a bonus. But in spite of her strong attraction to Jack she knew that in the long term she couldn’t be happy with anyone so aimless.
    Your standards are too high for ordinary mortals to live up to. Anthony had said that the night she’d confronted him about his affair with Erica. It had stung. Until she remembered that Anthony was defending his weakness and deceit. High standards were good.
    “Jack and I aren’t right for each other, I’m afraid.” Sienna rose and handed Renita the prescription. “If you’re not starting to feel better in a few days, come see me again.”

    S MEDLEY RACED INTO THE SHED , darted over to Jack for a quick sniff, then dashed to Bogie, who was crashed out on the floor by the couch. Bogie lifted his shaggy golden head as Smedley bounced twice on all four legs, a clear invitation to play.
    “Hey, Dad,” Jack said, seeing Steve’s bulky form outlined in the bright light of the doorway. “Come on in.”
    “I brought some cinnamon buns.” Steve took the bag to the kitchen. “I’ll put coffee on.”
    “Go ahead.” Jack’s fingers were greasy from the lawn mower engine he was overhauling for his father. He’d removed the handle and had the base overturned on the benchtop. “I’ve almost got this finished.”
    “No rush.” Steve plugged in the kettle. “Take a break.”
    Jack ignored the suggestion. Although Sienna’s attitude toward his lifestyle rankled, since her visit he’d decided to tackle a few projects he’d been putting off. When he looked back over the past year he hadn’t accomplished half of what he had in the first two years after his “early retirement.” Once he’d recovered from his injuries and got his strength back he’d done heaps of things—painted his entire house and Lexie’s, landscaped Renita’s garden, organized the sale of his parents’ farm and machinery, helped a friend at his winery…and much more.
    This year, not so much. Parkinson’s Law, “work expands to fill the time allotted,” seemed to hold true for him. Never mind. Once he got these few tasks out of the way he’d go back to enjoying life.
    Steve got himself a cinnamon bun and wandered over to the ultralight, a natural draw for everyone, it seemed. “It’s been a while since you’ve flown.”
    Three years, two months and one week. Of course, Steve didn’t mean the ultralight—that was just a toy—but a real plane like the Cessna 172 Jack used to charter out. He fitted the rotary blade to the motor. “Your lawn must be a mile high now.”
    “I should get a sheep. It’d be easier.” Steve wiggled the joystick. “Seems a shame you gave it all up. Don’t you miss it?”
    Jack tightened the screws on the blade, hiding the sharp ache tugging at his insides. Yeah, he missed flying. He missed the surge of power at liftoff and the weightless feeling that followed. He missed the buffeting wind and the exhilaration of soaring through the wide-open sky. He