Winter in Mason Valley

by Eliza Bennetts

  Dee thought back to the rolling scene of the main street she’d driven through only moments earlier. There hadn’t appeared to be much open, and Dee had no idea where she could find something nice for her new landlord.

  Resolving to gift her new roommates something as soon as it was feasible, Dee exited the car. She opted not to haul in everything she owned straight away. Instead, she grabbed only her purse and her overnight sports tote. She ambled up the drive, teetering a little in her stilettos, encumbered by her tight black pencil skirt. The house had no doorbell, so she rapped on the door, a loud but respectful knock.

  She smiled as the sound of a child’s giggle floated through the strong, brown wood. Maybe this change of plans, this billeting to a stranger’s house was a blessing in disguise. It might provide her with the company and comfort she would need while undertaking this massive new role, and maybe she could give this single mum a little help, babysit for her now and again or something. She’d just begun to fully embrace the idea when the brown door opened, quick and wide. While a little girl’s laughter filled Dee’s ears, her sight … her sight was filled by something else entirely.

  Standing before her was … she held her breath as her cheeks grew warm.

  The single parent was dressed in loose-fitting denim and a sleeveless, white tee. His hair was pulled away from his face, and stubble that could almost be described as a beard framed his wide smile. His blue eyes met hers.

  ‘Welcome,’ he said, his voice full of mischief as his smile washed his face with naughty joy.

  Travis could tell Dee didn’t know she was moving into his house. He knew it as soon as he opened the door. Tim from HR must’ve failed to include that little detail in the information package, and Travis felt kinda good that she didn’t know. He liked that he’d caught her off guard for the second time that day.

  Making people who are already uncomfortable even more so wasn’t his way, but for some reason, he enjoyed making his new boss squirm.

  ‘I think … I think I might be in the wrong place.’ She fumbled in her purse and pulled out her phone.

  Travis’s chest grew warm. She looked so panicked, the desire to make her squirm instantly melted and faded away.

  ‘You’re in the right place,’ he said. ‘Want me to help you with your things?’

  ‘No!’ she cried. ‘No, this is not … is this your … I must be in the wrong place,’ she whispered.

  Slowly, he shook his head, watching as her eyes grew wide with panic.

  ‘You’re not in the wrong place. You’ve come to the right house. And, yes, this is my house.’

  Annie lingered behind his legs. He looked down at her as she stuck her gorgeous little head around to greet Dee.

  ‘Hi!’ she sang.

  Dee’s face softened and lit up, just a little. Annie always had that effect on people.

  ‘Hello,’ Dee whispered, her voice raspy. In a different situation, Trav might’ve found her tone sexy. He opened the door wider, revealing more of Annie to Dee.

  ‘This is Annie,’ he said.

  ‘I’m Dee.’

  Dee smiled, but Travis thought he could see tears gathering in her eyes, so he stood back and waved her forward.

  ‘Come in,’ he said. ‘I’ll show you your room.’

  She followed him wordlessly as he led her to the spare room. He hadn’t done much to it before she’d arrived. There hadn’t been much to do. It had only ever been a room with a bed. Sometimes his mum stayed in it when she came to babysit, but mostly it was just disused. He did change the bedding as soon as he’d got home from work, and he’d run the vacuum cleaner over the carpet, too.

  She placed her bags on the bed and turned to face him. ‘You knew about this?’

  He nodded. ‘Yes, but I only found out today. I think there was a hitch or something with your housing, so HR called and asked.’

  ‘And you said yes.’

  ‘I did.’

  ‘Why? Why would you say yes to hosting your boss? Your female boss. Don’t you think this will be awkward?’

  He shrugged. ‘Don’t see why it has to be. We are both adults, we work in the same factory, different areas of it. You need a place to stay. I have a place.’

  Dee planted her hands on her hips and sighed heavily. The sound was so deep and exaggerated, he couldn’t help rolling his eyes. It was a little bratty, too dramatic for his liking.

  ‘Calm down, princess,’ he said. ‘It’s not the Hilton, but I’m sure you’ll survive.’

  That seemed to get her really amped up because, in an instant, she’d snatched her bags from the bed.

  ‘This isn’t going to work,’ she said, huffing as she pushed past him.

  Travis fought the smirk that was so desperate to slide over his face. ‘I’m sure it won’t. Not if you don’t give it a chance.’

  ‘I’ll stay in the hotel,’ she called over her shoulder.

  Annie lingered at the entrance to the kitchen, her blue eyes wide and alive as she took in the drama.

  ‘That place …’ he scoffed, in two minds. Part of him would really love to see her living in the dive that was the Valley Motor Inn. But at the same time, he wanted to tell her she’d stay there over his dead body. She may fancy herself a bit of a princess, but the part of him that was acting and thinking involuntarily didn’t want Dee Lovelace staying in that fetid hotel, not when she could be safe and clean under his roof.

  ‘You shouldn’t stay there,’ he said.

  ‘I’ll stay in my car then.’

  ‘It’s winter,’ he said, his tone softer and gentler than he wanted it to be. ‘And it gets really cold in the valley at night, I’ll tell you that.’

  Dee paused. She held on to that bag of hers real tight, as though some felon might run past and snatch it from her.

  Eventually, Annie put an end to the stalemate. ‘Please don’t go,’ she pleaded. ‘You shouldn’t sleep in your car.’

  Annie tossed her silky brown ponytail to the side and smiled her gap-ridden smile, melting his new boss like the sun melts frost. Dee dropped her bag and looked at him squarely, like a prideful loser, gracefully accepting defeat.

  ‘Okay, but I’ll pay for half the groceries and the utilities, and I’ll cook three nights a week.’

  ‘Fine.’ His voice was firm, but they both knew he’d conceded nothing. He hadn’t thought about the logistical arrangements. Christ, he hadn’t even thought about tonight’s dinner. They’d probably have eggs again.

  Annie looked between the two adults. ‘Okay,’ she said, giggling. ‘So, Dee is going to stay, right?’

  Travis looked at Dee Lovelace and took in the defiance in her deep blue eyes; the set, squared-off stance of her small, shapely figure; the way her chin jutted out in his direction; and the muscles of her smooth, porcelain neck. She looked at him like she hated him, and it was true that might be a concern. She was his boss after all—if she hated him, his life could get harder. But Travis had always managed to keep his nose clean when it came to his job. He worked hard, never took time off and did things right. He could stay out of trouble, whether the boss liked him or not, and he had a solid and steady history of never caring much either way.

  It was also true, though, that having Dee Lovelace hate him, concerned him much more than it should.

  Travis took a breath and gave Annie a smile before he answered her question. ‘Right, Annie,’ he said. ‘Dee is going to stay.’

  4

  Dee cast a weary gaze over the bathroom and was pleasantly surprised. It was clean—cleaner than the hotel she’d stayed at the night before—and it had a bath. She almost cried again, but this time with delight.

  The room was sparse. A pump pack of hand soap sat on the vanity and a bottle of Barbie bubble bath rested on the ledge above the bath. In the shower, there was another pump pack, an all-in-one shampoo, conditioner and shower gel.

  Dee double-checked that she’d locked the door and then leaned over and turned on the bath taps, hot first, then cold. S
team filled the room as she fossicked in her bag for her bath oil and then piled her hair on her head, using an elastic to secure it. The bathwater was like a salve to her frayed nerves, pushing together the ragged edges one strand at a time.

  As she soaked, she revisited certain moments of her day—from the minute she’d awoken in the God-awful hotel, to the minute that gorgeous little girl had implored her to stay. Dee squeezed some liquid soap into her loofah and ran it over her arms and legs, thinking of how much she owed that little girl. If it weren’t for her, Dee would be sleeping in her car this evening.

  Travis, on the other hand, had continued to be condescending and annoying, and she couldn’t believe that she was staying at his house, of all people’s. It was as though she’d had a series of horrid tricks played on her today by a spiteful and cruel universe. She shook the thought away. She didn’t believe in fairies or spirits or fate, so there was no way she believed the universe was out to get her. She’d just had one of those days.

  Sound filtered through the bathroom door. Dee couldn’t help smiling as she listened to Annie’s soft giggle, but she frowned with equal conviction when she heard Travis’s deep but indistinguishable responses. He was such an arsehole. What he’d done to her in those first moments when she’d only just laid eyes on her staff for the first time was unforgivable. Her mind flicked back, playing the whole sorry scene again, only when it got the part when Travis removed his shirt, the movie in her mind slowed down. The sight of his, smooth, defined and sparsely decorated torso swam in her mind’s eye.

  Panicked, she shut it off, closed it down, refusing to let the image further increase the pressure building between her legs.

  Shit.

  She pulled herself out of the steaming water. Bath time was over.

  The winter air licked at her skin, cooling her in an instant. She dried off, wrapped the towel around herself, then unlocked the bathroom door and tiptoed to her bedroom. Once inside, she rummaged in her bag and pulled free her sleeping attire, black leggings and a fitted white tee. She slipped a grey cardigan over her shoulders and wandered out, following the sounds of Annie’s sweet little voice. Travis and Annie were curled up, side by side on the sofa, and Travis was reading Annie a book. The sweetness of the scene, had it not contained Travis, might’ve made Dee’s chest grow tight with longing.

  Travis raised an eyebrow. ‘Nice bath?’

  Dee gave him a weak, noncommittal smile. ‘Yes, it was lovely, thank you.’

  ‘Did you use my Barbie Bath Potion?’ Annie asked.

  Dee’s smile widened. ‘No, I didn’t. I thought it might have been just for you.’

  Annie shrugged. ‘You could’ve used it. Daddy does.’

  ‘Hey!’ Travis poked his little girl in the ribs, causing her to giggle delightedly. ‘Don’t go giving away all our secrets on day one.’

  ‘Okay,’ Annie drawled, looking up at her father with eyes full of adoration.

  Dee lingered, feeling awkward and strange. The oddity of the situation she found herself in seemed to match the theme of the day. She’d started the day feeling embarrassed and out of her depth because of Travis, and now here she was, an onlooker of such an intimate scene—a scene that starred Travis yet again. She wondered how it was possible to hate someone and be in awe of them at the same time.

  ‘Bedtime, chicken,’ Travis said to Annie, closing the book and giving her a pointed look.

  To her credit, Annie shot up without complaint. She was dressed in pink and white Minnie Mouse pyjamas. Her little limbs were still age-appropriately plump and her hair swam around her shoulders.

  ‘Goodnight, Dee,’ she said, wandering over and reaching up, presumably to wrap her arms around Dee’s neck.

  Dee froze, unsure of what to do. She ached to hug the little girl but wondered how Travis would feel about it. She hovered, half-bending, half-standing in a weird sort of no-man’s-land. She shifted her gaze to Travis, who responded with a straight-faced nod of encouragement, and Dee bent over, fully accepting the little girl’s embrace.

  Then, without another word, Annie sauntered off.

  ‘I’ll be there in a moment to tuck you in,’ Travis called after her.

  Dee still hovered, not sure if she should sit. She wondered if perhaps she should’ve stayed in her room.

  Her expression must’ve been easy for Travis to read because he motioned to the couch opposite him. ‘Sit, if you like.’

  Tentatively, she made her way over to the couch and sat, realising how self-conscious she felt. She was so aware of how she was sitting, the placement of her arms and her legs and the way her cardigan fell. She secretly cursed herself for not having the foresight to check her hair in the mirror before she left the bathroom. She had little doubt it would be all over the place—not a good look when her aim was to assert herself as Travis’s boss before they saw each other at work again the next day.

  She swallowed, aware that he was watching her, appraising her with those blue eyes of his. Her face still felt warm. Her cheeks might have been red—too red, maybe. All these thoughts rolled by, sneaky waves of consciousness that slipped under her guard. She clawed them back, overpowering them with other thoughts, like how much she disliked the man opposite her. How unfair he’d been to her. Sure, he’d taken her in, but even that act had been self-serving. It was clear he needed the money, not that there was anything wrong with that, but if he expected her to lavish him with gratitude for letting her stay in his house, he would be sorely disappointed. She didn’t want to be beholden to the people from whom she was meant to garner respect. The whole situation made her want to rip Tim from human resources a new butthole.

  She swallowed again, trying to think of something nice to say to him. It was a challenge, but she settled on complimenting the only redeeming feature she’d witnessed in the ten hours she’d known him.

  ‘Annie seems like a nice little girl,’ she said.

  Travis’s eyes narrowed and his relaxed position on the couch remained unchanged. One strong, artistically tattooed forearm rested on his thigh, the other at his side, and he said nothing in response. She found herself readily regretting the compliment, despite it not being directed at him. She sat still in the stony silence and awaited a response from him. But the wait was interminable, and after thirty seconds or so, she decided she was done. She stood up, offering him neither a look nor a word as she left the room.

  Her scent hung in the air, a light scent of flowers and spice. It tickled his nose and annoyed him. It followed him to Annie’s room and stayed through the nursery rhyme, the fist bump and the nose touch.

  Frustrated, he walked to the kitchen, wrenched open the fridge and took out a beer. He didn’t take it into the lounge—her smell might still be in there. Instead, he lingered in the kitchen for a moment or two and looked through the calendar. Annie had school photos next week. He’d need to remember that.

  After a while, he placed the beer on the bench and went to check on Annie again, who was already snoring her light little snores. She was so cute with her brow creased and wispy bits of hair stuck to her face and neck. He loved her so much it hurt. It made his chest ache and his throat tighten with fear—the fear of losing her mostly.

  He looked down, sensing something soft at his feet. Mr Rabbit had already been kicked out of bed. He lay, arms splayed, face down on the floor. Trav picked him up and tucked him under the quilt before pressing a light kiss to Annie’s forehead.

  He walked back to the kitchen, grabbed his beer and took a long, steady pull. He stood for a few beats, then wandered towards the front door. He grabbed his black overcoat from the coat rack and walked out onto the porch.

  Outside, the night was still and cold. It was clear, too. Stars studded the sky like low-hanging jewels. Trav took in the moment, the first he’d had alone all day—and what a day it’d been. He took another mouthful, then allowed himself a soft chuckle. Life was boring most of the time. It was a sad sentiment, but it was true.

  In Trav’s thi
rty years’ experience, life seemed to be a succession of twenty-four-hour periods all following on from each other in an almost identical fashion; a series of repeated routines that carried on and on. But then, there were days like today, days that seemed to pick up everything boring and familiar before throwing it all up in the air. For better or worse, those were the days Trav lived for. He smiled again, one last time before he finished his beer.

  5

  Dee awoke to the sound of rummaging in the kitchen. She could hear the tinkling sound of cutlery, the clank of crockery and the metallic tone of a toaster’s mechanism. She rolled over, lifted her phone from the bedside table and looked at the time. It was 6.41 am.

  She frowned. It was early—there were still another nine minutes before her alarm was due to go off—but she also knew that Travis was the foreman for the day shift, a shift that began at six in the morning. So, either he was not at work, or someone else was moving about in the kitchen. Dee yawned and stood up, not really concerned. The sounds were domestic in nature and innocuous enough, so she wasn’t worried, more like curious. She slipped on her cardigan and Ugg boots before heading out of her room.

  Upon entering the kitchen, she found neither a stranger nor Travis, but rather Annie, looking greedily at a slice of toast she was awkwardly attempting to butter. She looked up, her little cheeks still plump and rosy from sleep, and smiled at Dee.

  ‘I’m making toast,’ she declared.

  Dee was both relieved and charmed by the sight, so she smiled right back. ‘I can see that,’ she said. ‘Want some help?’

  ‘Well, I’m very good at spreading the jam, but I’m not very good at spreading the butter. When the butter has just come out of the fridge, it makes me rip the toast.’

  ‘Ah, yes,’ Dee said, moving to stand beside the little girl who stood on a chair. ‘Butter is the hard bit. Here.’