“
Yep. You remember the problem areas?”
“Honey, I saw the
m on Thursday when I came across, remember?”
“
Forgot.”
He’d
just gotten to the corner of the house when she yelled out, “And who said I wasn’t ready?”
Nick tripped over his own feet and nearly hit the wall. Untangling his feet, he swung around to stare at her in disbelief. “What?”
“Too late now, sweetie.” Cheerfully, she started painting the windowsill. “Not in the mood.”
She’d be the death of him. “You
mean you were?”
“
Before you go out the back, please turn on the CD player. I need to get my painting mojo back.”
Painting
mojo? He couldn’t stop wondering just how close he’d gotten, just what he might have missed out on.
Eyeing her, he switched on the CD player and music blared out. Bree got her shimmy going, feet sure on the plank, the ladders steady as a rock.
“If you fall,” he yelled above the music, “your arse is mine!”
Grinning, she flipped him the bird and kept painting.
Shaking his head, Nick walked around to the back of the house.
Bast tore past him into the open doorway of the shed, stopping in the opening to wait for him impatiently.
Going by her big blue eyes and bristling whiskers, she was excited at the thought of hanging around to see what he was doing. He’d have to watch that he didn’t step on her, or trip on her and kiss the dust himself.
Maybe there was something to this karma thing after all, he
thought, when Sheba appeared in the doorway to scream her excitement at him. Blue balls and a pair of miscreants intent on causing havoc while he worked. He was being punished. Which was a bitch in itself, seeing as how he’d done the noble thing.
Not all good boys got rewarded, it seemed. Looked like karma was a woman after all.
Standing beside the Ford transit van, Bree smiled at Frank. “Thanks for replacing the door.” She swung it backward and f
orward. “Good as new.”
“Not easy finding doors for this model van.” Frank patted the
snubby nose of the Ford. “Lucky to get that one.”
“Yeah.”
“Maybe you should look at upgrading.”
“Sell the van?” She was horrified. “My
van
?”
“It’s an old model, very old. You could get one
of them cheap little imports, one of those-”
“Sell my
van
? Are you insane?” Bree hooked her arm through the open car door window.
Frank
paused. “Apparently I am.”
“This
is a classic. This I can drive, sleep in, live in if there’s a disaster.”
“Disaster?”
“Bushfire, flood, alien invasion.”
“You’re joking, right?”
“This van, Frank, was built to withstand anything. They don’t make them like this anymore.”
“I was talking about
alien invasions. You’re joking, right?”
“Why would I be joking?”
Frank shook his head. “Never mind.”
“One must always be prepared.” Bree laughed silently when the panel beater eyed her more warily. “If you need any
survival tips, come to me.”
“I don’t think tin foil on the head will work.”
“You’ve watched ‘Signs’ starring Mel Gibson. I’m impressed.”
“My kids
watched it. I was just sitting in the lounge with nothing to do that day.”
Bree patted him on the shoulder. “You keep telling yourself that, Frank.” Getting into the van, she shut the door and started the engine. “What did you think of Star Wars?”
“Of what?”
She winked at him and drove away, letting a gurgle of
amusement pass her lips when she glanced in the rear-view mirror to see Frank scratching his head. Made her day.
Whistling cheerfully, she drove through town, pulling up at the café to buy a couple of
iced chocolates, the kind with ice cream in and cream on top. Placing the decadent treats in the tray on the floor of the van, she made her way carefully to the outskirts of Whicha, continuing onwards until she reached Harly’s driveway. Pulling up in the drive, she got out, retrieved the tray with the two tall, plastic cups with their dome-covered lids, and went up the veranda to knock on the door. “Open up, Harly! I’m holding two iced chocolates hostage!”
Harly appeared. “What’s the ransom?”
“Sisterly advice.”
“Really?”
Harly opened the door.
“Confidential,
sisterly advice.”
“I can do that. Come in.”
Bree hesitated in the hallway. “Where to?”
“I’m making a stew for dinner, so if you don’t mind, the kitchen.”
“Not at all.”
Entering the kitchen
which smelled heavenly of cooking meat and herbs, Bree placed the tray of iced chocolates on the kitchen bench near where Harly had been cutting vegetables on a cutting board. Hopping up on one of the stools, she took a iced chocolate from the tray and took several long sips. “Ahhh, that hits the spot.”
Swallowing a mouthful of
iced chocolate, Harly sighed blissfully. “Wow, I haven’t had one of these in weeks.”
“Kind of
one of those celebratory drinks,” Bree agreed.
“
Or comfort drink.” Harly studied her. “What’s up?”
She
looked down at her drink. Hmmm. Somehow she thought this’d be easier.
“
Confidential,” her friend reminded her. “Non-judgemental.”
“I know that. I trust you. That’s why I came here.”
“Well, then…”
Bree took another fortifying sip. “I’m not used to asking opinions, you know?”
“No, I didn’t.” Harly’s expression was calm, patient
“Well, I didn’t really have any confidents. To confide in.”
“Okay.”
“Growing up, I
kinda did it all myself, worked things out for myself. You know?”
“I hear you.”
Bree fell silent.
After several seconds had passed,
Harly picked up a carrot and started peeling it. “The boys haven’t gotten home yet. I’m not expecting them back for several hours.”
“Where’ve they gone?” Bree leaned her chin on one hand
, glad for a brief respite from her own thoughts.
“
Paul’s ute broke down. He refuses to get his mechanics to fix it, reckons he can do it himself.” Harly smiled. “Jack and Will, his mechanics, have a bet going with him that he’ll come crawling back to them for help. Alex and Nick took pity on him and have gone across to see if they can help him get the ute going again.”
“Isn’t that cheating?”
“Yes. Yes, it is.” Picking up another carrot, Harly continued peeling.
“
How are Jack and Will taking that?”
“
They have no idea. It’s being done behind Paul’s house.”
“Do they have all those tools they need?”
“I don’t ask. I just warn the naughty boys and watch them go off to their doom.” Harly shook her head. “There’s no telling them.”
Bree grinned. “You love having Alex home.”
“Yes.”
“You must miss him so much when he goes away.”
“You have no idea how much.” Harly paused, lifted her gaze to where a photo of her and Alex sat on the wall.
Curiously
, Bree looked at the photo. She’d seen it many times but had never really taken notice. Alex and Harly were embracing, cheek to cheek, smiling at the camera. Eyes warm with love, Alex’s arm was protectively surrounding Harly, holding her close. There was no denying the love between them, it was plain on their happy faces.
She looked back at
Harly to find her peeling a potato. “Why don’t you ask Alex to leave the Army and stay here?”
“
Because he loves the Army. It’s his career.”
“But if he love
s you…”
“
He loves me. I don’t doubt it. And he’d leave the Army in a heartbeat if I asked him.” Harly looked Bree squarely in the eyes. “I love him too much to ask him.”
“You
don’t think he’d be happy here?”
“Alex is always happy here. He’s happy in the Army, too. When I married him, I knew
he’d go away, knew he’d fight for the freedom of our country. The Army is just as much a part of him as I am.”
“Huh. And you’re content to wait for him?”
Picking up the iced chocolate, Harly took a couple of mouthfuls before placing it back on the bench and resuming peeling vegetables. “Yes, I am. I had a life here before Alex, I have a life here when he’s home, and I have a life here when he’s gone. Having him come home makes it richer, no doubt about it, but I’m content to continue living my life while he’s away, and sharing it when he’s home.” Harly glanced at her. “I’m happy. He’s happy. It works for us.”
Suddenly
realising how nosey she was being, Bree blushed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry. It’s not my business.”
“No,”
Harly agreed quietly. “It isn’t, but I don’t mind telling you because it’s true. I don’t care what other people think, as long as Alex and I are happy.”
Unable to help it, Bree asked hesitantly, “What if he decided to leave the Army and live here permanently? Wouldn’t
he drive you mad if you’re so used to being alone?”
“Any couple living together do things that annoy the other,
its human nature. I’d be the happiest woman alive if he stayed here. I’m also the happiest woman alive when he’s off doing what he loves, too.” Harly smiled. “I’m the happiest woman alive, full stop.”
Bree had no doubt about that. It was kind of heart-warming. “I’m glad.”
“Me, too.” Harly started another potato. “So you’re wanting advice.”
“Oh. Yeah.” Bree pushed a stray lock of hair that had escaped her bun behind her ear. “Nick.”
“What about Nick?”
“He’s a nice bloke.”
Harly nodded while continuing to peel.
Not
having her friend watch her while she stumbled through questions made it a little easier. Bree ran her fingertips through the condensation on the plastic cup. “Really nice.”
“One of the nicest.”
“Honourable.”
“Yes.”
“Keeps his word.”
“I
wouldn’t expect anything less of him.”
“Yeah.” Bree watched
Harly pick up a parsnip. “Yuck.”
“Don’t like parsnip, huh?”
“Does the word ‘ew’ mean anything to you?”
“I’m thinking you don’t like parsnip.”
“Yep.”
“You haven’t tasted it in my stew.
You wouldn’t know it was there.”
“
Unfortunately, I do know. I’m watching you peel it.”
Harly
grinned.
It was a nice diversion, but over. Bree focussed back on the problem at hand. “When did you know it was time to have...you know…with Alex.”
“The wedding plan discussion?”
“No. The other thing.”
“How to stop his brother Marty from pulling my mother’s leg until it fell off?”
“No.
The
other
thing.”
“Are we talking sex?”
Bree nodded.
Harly look
ed at her. “Are you worried about sex with Nick?”
Put so bluntly, it had the power
to make Bree wince just a little. “When did you know it was the right time with Alex?”
“Didn’t your mother ever talk to you about this?”
“Am I making you uncomfortable?” Feeling suddenly stupid, Bree started to slide off the stool. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t-”
“Get back
up there, missy.” Expression stern, Harly jabbed the vegetable peeler at the stool. “Right now.”
“Really, this was silly. I-”
“I swear, you take off now and I’ll chase you in my car.”
“
That’s a little extreme.”
“You’ve never seen me extreme. Now sit.”
Feeling decidedly chastised, Bree got back up on the stool.
Harly, bless her cotton socks, recommenced peeling vegetables. “So, you’re worried about you and Nick having sex.”
“Well, not really the sex part.” One thing she wasn’t going to confess was her virginity. She wasn’t ashamed of it, she just wasn’t going to broadcast it. “When to have it.”
“Ah. I see.”
Bree was glad she did, because Bree certainly didn’t. She was in a bit of a fog.
“Has he asked you?” Harly asked. “Made any overtures?”
“Overtures. How delightfully old fashioned.”
“Don’t make me force you to peel the onions.”
“Sorry. Overtures.” Bree paused. “Um…we’ve kissed.”
“That’s always a good start.”
“Kind of had a little grope.”
Harly nodded.
“Or two. Two gropes.”
“Okay.”
“Well, it’s probably been more ‘cause we’ve been going out for a few weeks now.”
“Right.”
“A lot of kisses.”
“Uh huh.”
“Pretty hot kisses, actually.” Just the memory of some of the more lustier ones had Bree’s toes curling in her fluoro pink sneakers.
“All natural,”
Harly stated calmly. “Sounds good so far.”
Bree stared at the chopping board. “That’s as far as it
’s gone.”
Silently, Harly started peeling onions.
“You know, I want to go further.”
Harley
continued peeling.
“I’ve never wanted to go further with any other bloke.”
“Nothing wrong with that.”
“Yeah. But now…”
“You want to go further.”
“But when?”
“Only you can know that.”
“See, I come to you for advice. You have to advise me.”
Taking the vegetables to the sink, Harly washed them, patted them dry and brought them back to the chopping board. Slicing carrots, she glanced at Bree. “Doesn’t Nick initiate anything that lets you know when he wants it?”
“Nick wants it,” Bree said bluntly. “He’s just
being noble.”
“In
what way? Holding out?”
Bree laughed a little. “
Nick would have sex in a flash if he thought I was ready.”