Melody: Beautiful Series, book three

by Anderson, Lilliana

  Jesus. They’ve lost their minds.

  A beeping sounds from inside the house, so I leave Gary to it, trotting inside to switch the timer off. When I open the oven door, the cheesy aroma of the pastries burst full force into the air, filling my nose. My stomach growls and my mouth waters. I haven’t eaten all day. I basically woke up, got ready, and came here.

  I slide my hands into a pair of oven gloves and take hold of the tray of pastries. Unbeknownst to me, the gloves are slightly damp, heating rapidly around my hands. “Oh, fuck.” I should let go. But in my panic, I grab the tray tighter, rushing to lift it to the bench. My leg taps the oven door, causing it to bounce up and hit me in the forearms. A burning pain radiates up my arm as I flinch backward, finally releasing the tray.

  “Shit! Bloody! Fuck! Bastards!” I hiss in an attempt to counteract the pain as I race over to the sink and run cold water over my forearms.

  “Are you all right?” A deep baritone rumbles out at me from the entrance to the kitchen. Glancing up briefly, I see Elliot, the most recent man of my dreams, who is now married to one of my best friends, Paige. I was maid of honour at their wedding last year, and it was so beautiful. I cried like a baby. They were living in the UK then, but they’ve moved back to Sydney so their little one, Grace can know Elliot’s parents. Paige’s family situation is a bit funny, so we don’t talk about that.

  “Ugh. The oven door got me. Can you get the cheese pastry things out of the oven for me? But don't use the oven mitts. They’re wet.”

  He grabs a tea towel and pulls the tray from the oven, successfully placing it on the bench without burning himself. Paige is a lucky woman. Every time I see Elliot, he looks amazing. He’s wearing a simple t-shirt and cargo shorts combo, but he makes it look like the most fashionable outfit on the planet. He’s tall, broad and muscular with short-cropped hair that looks golden when he grows it out but stays dark in its current state—either way he takes your breath away. And he has these amazing blue eyes that were the first thing I noticed about him when I met him in the UK almost two years ago.

  Back then, I was twenty-two, and all I cared about was having a good time. He arrived at the Aussie share-house we were all staying at and I threw myself at him in a very unsubtle way. I got as far as making out with him, but it didn’t go any further. The moment Paige arrived, he was a goner, and I respectfully took myself out of the running. I love reading about love triangles, but actually being involved in one is another story. The way I see it, a guy either wants you or he doesn’t. No sense in fighting over him.

  “How are your forearms?” Elliot asks, his voice laced with concern as he brings me the tea towel so I can pat dry my arms.

  “They’re red, but they don’t seem to be blistering. I think I’m ok.”

  “Let me see,” he says, taking my arm with a ginger touch before he inspects the reddened area. Admittedly, I tilt my head towards him slightly and inhale. He smells so good, I think I’m going straight to Myer to sample all of their aftershaves until I find what he’s wearing. “I think you got off lightly. Keep them under the water though. I’ll go get some burn cream and bandages off Stephanie.”

  “Thank you.” I press my lips in a small smile as the scent of him whispers away and all I can smell now is cheese. Lucky I really like cheese.

  This all probably sounds like I’d like to steal Elliot away from Paige if I was given the chance. But that couldn’t be further from truth. Paige is one of my favourite people on this planet. I’d never do something like that. Elliot is just the current standard that I hold all other guys up against. I watched him fall for Paige. I watched his patience, his determination and understanding as she struggled with trust issues after a painful past. And it was just beautiful. I want a love like theirs. The kind you can feel in the air around them. I want that kind of connection with someone.

  I want my own Elliot—not Paige’s one.

  “What’s happened?” Paige asks as she enters the kitchen and finds me running my arms under the water. She’s this exotic-looking sex bomb who makes a young Sophia Loren look like an ugly cow. Compared to her, I’m a dog, and I know I’m pretty. But I’m your typical Aussie girl—straight blonde hair, straight teeth, small frame and tan skin—and next to Paige, I look boring. She’s fucking stunning.

  “I burned myself.” I scrunch my face up.

  “Ouch,” she winces as she leans down to pick up her daughter, the adorable Grace. She has Paige’s shock of curly dark hair and Elliot’s sea-blue eyes. She will break hearts when she’s grown.

  “Hello, miss Grace,” I coo.

  “Ha-wo,” she says in her tiny voice before she tucks her head into Paige’s neck and hides. God help me, my uterus hurts around these kids.

  “She’s a little shy,” Paige explains.

  “No. She’s just perfect,” I say with a smile, catching Grace’s eye as I shut off the water and dry off my forearms. She giggles and hides again. “Tell me what’s new in the Robert’s household. I feel like I haven’t seen your guys in months.”

  A grin spreads across her face and her gaze drops to the floor momentarily. It’s as if she’s trying to hide something. “Things are good. They’re really good.”

  “What aren’t you telling me? You’ve got ‘secret’ written all over your face.”

  “I do? Well, I’m not supposed to say anything yet. It’s still too early,” she informs me quietly.

  I suck in my breath. “You’re expecting?” I gush. “Were you trying? Or is this a surprise?” I’m genuinely excited. I love Grace and Amanda. They’re the sweetest little girls in the world, and I love being the cool aunty.

  She tilts her head slightly and lifts her shoulder. “Not trying, but not standing in the way either.”

  “Congratulations.” I lean in and hug her, growling lightly in Grace’s neck as I do. She giggles and we all laugh. “How are you feeling?”

  “OK. A bit of morning sickness, and my psychiatrist altered my meds a little to cope with the changing hormones. But I’m doing OK.” Paige’s upbringing was super messed up, and she has some psychological issues because of it. I witnessed the beginning of her breakdown when she was newly pregnant with Grace, but that was before her diagnosis, so I’m really happy to hear she’s being monitored now. But we’re all here for both her and Elliot if she’s ever struggling. We’re all family now.

  “It’s so wonderful. I wonder if you’ll have a boy this time,” I speculate. I’d love it if they have a boy. So many cute boy outfits to buy.

  “Cat’s out of the bag already, huh?” Elliot says, as he returns to the kitchen with the first aid supplies, kissing Paige on the cheek as he moves past her.

  “She saw right through me.” Paige’s mouth curves into a grin. “She always has.”

  “That’s because I’m perceptive.”

  Placing the supplies on the counter, Elliot applies the burn cream to my arms as Paige hovers and tells him what to do like the guy doesn’t have his a first aid certificate as a part of his personal trainer qualification. It’s adorable the way they are together. They make me want to sigh and hug them.

  Before I know it, Stephanie and Gary are in the kitchen too, and I’m explaining what happened again while Elliot finishes wrapping my burns.

  “It’s really not that bad. I promise it’ll all be fine tomorrow,” I assure them, a bunch of clucking hens if ever I saw one.

  “I just feel bad,” Stephanie says. “If I hadn’t been running behind schedule, it wouldn’t have happened.”

  “Forget it,” I insist, as a knock sounds at the door. “Once you see what I bought for Mandy, you’re gonna wish I was hurt worse.”

  “Oh no. You didn’t.”

  “I did,” I confirm, my eyes wide with delight.

  I enlist the help of Elliot and Gary to come to my car and carry in the rather large gift.

  “Oh my god, Naomi! Where the hell am I going to put a baby grand piano?” Stephanie moans.

  “Wow, where did you get t
hat?” Paige laughs.

  “eBay.” I grin.

  “It’s always eBay,” Stephanie sighs as Amanda and Grace immediately start banging on the keys, sending out a clamour of jumbled notes and delighted squeals.

  I simply smile and gesture at the girls. “Look. She’s a natural.”

  As I stand and watch the girls happily playing, other people arrive and the house fills up rather fast. I pay little attention though, I’m having too much fun with my little protégé. All my life, I dreamt of a music career. But somewhere along the way, I altered my path. Looking back now, I wonder why I gave up. I guess it just stopped being fun.

  Now I work in a Sydney night club behind a bar. It’s not a career option. For a long time, I’ve been ignoring the rest of my life and what I want to do with it. But it’s time to figure something out. Everyone around me is getting married and having kids. They’re having careers. I’ve been trying to keep the party going, but it’s starting feel like I’m just floating through life, waiting for something to happen. What could possibly happen though?

  Now, that’s the million dollar question.

  Two

  Naomi

  Eventually, the girls move on to play with some other children, so I leave them under the watchful eyes of other responsible adults. Then I make my way through the party to find Stephanie to see if there’s anything she needs me to do. My focus is so far ahead of me, I don’t even notice when someone else is trying to get my attention until they’re standing right in my path.

  “Naomi! Oh my god. I haven’t seen you since that massive party we crashed,” Erica says, wrapping her arms around me in an overly friendly gesture.

  I’ve had zero contact with her since the end of high school and that university party. I shudder every time I think about it. That party sparked a rumour about me getting trashed and sleeping with two different guys in the same night. Before I’d even woken the story was already in circulation. People who weren’t even at the party were texting me to see if it was true. Needless to say, I was pretty pissed off with my so-called friends. I knew it wasn’t Stephanie who told everyone—she would never do that to me—so, logic says it had to be Erica or Amy. No one else at the party could have told all our classmates so quickly.

  “Oh, Erica,” I say with minimal enthusiasm. “Yeah. It’s been a while.”

  “Tell me what you’ve been doing with yourself,” she demands, touching my arm lightly as she tilts her ash blonde head, causing her loose curls to graze the top of her bare shoulder. I open my mouth to answer, but it turns out she’s not really interested in me. She simply widens her blue eyes and surges forward with her own news. “I can’t believe how much has happened since we last saw each other. Did you know, Jenny Tyler has already been married and divorced? Twenty-four years old and she already has a divorce under her belt. And I hear she ran off to America. Rumour has it she went to Vegas to be a showgirl, and she’s met some old rich guy and is about to get married again. I just can’t understand why there are so many girls rushing into this wedding stuff.” She places her hand next to her mouth and leans in close. “No offence to Steph of course. Gary’s a great guy and their baby is just gorgeous. But I couldn’t think of anything worse than getting married and having kids. We’re so not ready yet. Are we, Amy?”

  I shift my gaze to find Amy has appeared beside Erica sipping on a bottle of beer, looking bored out of her mind. “No fucking way am I being some guy’s laundry bitch.” She shakes her brunette head from side to side then upends the beer swallowing it all down before belching. “I’m having way too much fun being amazing on my own.” Suddenly her dark eyes widen with interest. “Oh, my god. Who the hell is that?”

  Turning my head to look over my shoulder to see who she’s looking at. “That’s David,” I inform her. “His fiancé works with Gary.” She’s also Elliot’s ex-girlfriend, Katrina. They’re all linked through family and work friends. A complicated story, but somehow they all get along without making it weird.

  “He’s hot. Reminds me a bit of that guy from the Star Wars movies. The Darth Vader dude. What was his name?”

  “Hayden Christensen,” Erica offers, leaning in close to Amy as they both stare at David. “He is gorgeous. Where’s his fiancé?”

  “Over there,” I say, pointing out Katrina as she moves to stand alongside him, saying something private that makes him laugh then give her arse a squeeze.

  “Urgh, she’s a supermodel,” Amy moans as we watch them turn and walk outside. “I’d go a threesome with them, though.”

  “Not sure David’s much of a sharer,” I say.

  “Pity.” Amy shrugs.

  “Oh wow. What about him?” Erica asks as Elliot appears, and catches David by the arm, telling him some story that involves a lot of arm gestures and laughter. I smile just watching them.

  “That’s Elliot. He’s married with a kid and one on the way.”

  “Oh fuck. And that’s his wife isn’t it?” Amy scoffs as she notices Elliot reach out for Paige who’s carrying Grace on her hip.

  “Fuck me dead,” Erica gasps. “I’d go lesbian for her. Look at her.”

  “Jesus. This party sucks,” Amy grumbles. “Every hot guy is taken.”

  A burst of laughter escaped from my chest. “What did you expect? It’s a one-year-old’s birthday party.”

  “Still, there’s got to be something for the single girls to do besides drink,” she replies.

  “Speaking of fun and hot guys,” Erica says. “You should come out with us later. We’re going to see a band we think you’ll find really interesting,” Erica tells me, her eyes wide with excitement.

  “Will she?” says Amy, her snub nose creasing in the middle as she thinks. “Why? Does she know… Oh my god. Yes! You have to come. You will die when you see who’s playing.”

  “Is it Matiari?” I ask, feeling sure the only band they ever watch features Marcus Bailey as the front man. Their Instagram account is @UltimateMatairiGroupies. They’re obsessed.

  Erica offers a coy smile. “Just meet us at The Metro at eight o’clock. We’ll wait out front for you.”

  “Naomi,” Stephanie calls from across the patio. I turn my head towards my name and see her incline her head toward the house. She obviously needs my help.

  “I need to go,” I tell them.

  “That’s cool. We’re going to get out of here anyway,” Amy says, her voice sounding flat.

  “Just promise us you’ll come,” Erica presses as I turn to leave.

  “Sure. I’ll go.” I concede, not feeling at all certain I’d actually go through with my word.

  I make my way back into the house and spend the rest of the party being the dutiful godmother and best friend, avoiding the questions of older people who want to know which child is mine. I love Stephanie and Gary; I love their daughter, Mandy. But I feel like I’m the only single person left in a group of married couples, and at times I feel like a big ole sore thumb.

  By the time the party is over, I’ve had enough of watching happy couples brag about their children. Going out to see a band with Amy and Erica seems like the perfect outing to make me like less of a failure, and more like the party girl I’ve been clinging to. I’ve been ignoring my life for ages, might as well keep going for one more night.

  Three

  Naomi

  I go home and get changed into more gig appropriate clothing. The first thing I do is remove the bandages on my arms. The burns were so minor, I don’t even think they needed first aid. But that’s what I get for hanging around a bunch of young parents—coddled.

  After taking a quick shower, I squeeze myself into a form fitting royal blue dress that hits about mid-thigh, add a set of chunky knee high black boots and my cropped leather jacket. I feel sufficiently hotted up to watch a band and have some fun with Erica and Amy.

  Running the eyeliner pencil around my blue eyes, I think about the last time I partied with those two and pause. Maybe this is a bad idea? I study my reflection as I war
with my decision. It wasn’t their fault I don’t remember that night. But it is their fault everyone found out about it. As long as I stay sober, we shouldn’t have a problem. Plus, I really want to watch Marcus’s band again. I haven’t seen them live since that night either. But I’ve been doing my due diligence by stalking their social media.

  Matiari has come a long way from playing university parties. They’ve independently released two albums, have an increasing number of listeners on Spotify, and play to sold out venues all around Sydney. I think they could be even bigger if they would stop changing band members. But Marcus has always had an ego, so I’m not surprised people like Aramis didn’t stick around. I just hope I wasn’t the reason for that change.

  Taking an Uber, I arrive at The Metro to find Erica and Amy waiting out front wearing tiny scraps of material that make my dress look modest.

  “You came,” Erica says the moment I step onto the curb. “Amy tried to tell me you wouldn’t show. But I had faith.”

  “Fuck off, Erica. I just thought she didn’t seem that interested. I didn’t say we should go inside without waiting.”

  “It’s cool,” I say. “I wasn’t even sure if I was coming. But after spending a day with married couples and their kids, I decided I needed to get out and be a single girl.”

  “Fuck, yeah.” Amy holds her hand up and I clap mine against it.

  “Well, you’ll be glad you came. Check out the poster,” Erica says, drawing my attention to the poster advertising the band playing tonight.

  “Matiari. Wow, I’m shocked,” I deadpan.

  “You know who their lead is, right?” Erica asks, eyes wide and expectant. I think she wanted a bigger reaction than my emotionless acknowledgement.

  “Of course she knows him,” Amy says. “She fucked the guy.”

  Erica laughs behind her hand. “Haven’t we all.”