Meet Me in Bendigo

by Eva Scott

  Mel nodded and stroked Luna’s head gently. ‘Night, little one.’

  A hollow sensation made itself known in the pit of Annalisa’s stomach. The love that radiated between the three Gray family members shone around them like a protective bubble. A bubble she wasn’t a part of and didn’t have for herself.

  She’d had that bubble with Ben.

  There had been a time when Annalisa hadn’t thought it possible to move past Ben’s death, her grief had been that heavy, like someone had buried her heart under concrete.

  Then GardenerGuy94 showed up, managing to put a crack in the casing. Not to mention that guy she ran into at the bakery—so delicious and scrummy—who had sparked sensations in her body she thought lost forever. Maybe, unconsciously, she was getting ready to date again.

  ‘Where’s your mum?’ Mel asked Garry.

  ‘The coast is clear. Luna and I saw her out about five minutes ago.’

  ‘Thank god for that.’ Mel’s shoulders visibly slumped with relief. ‘I couldn’t take one more veiled criticism.’

  ‘Although she did like the cake,’ said Annalisa.

  ‘And your doll house got the stamp of approval,’ said Garry. ‘Not a total disaster.’

  ‘But she hated the Bob the Builder toolkit we got Luna.’ Mel sighed. ‘It’s what Luna wanted.’

  ‘Don’t worry.’ Garry kissed his wife. ‘It wouldn’t matter what you’d got her, Mum would have hated it.’

  ‘How encouraging.’ Mel laughed. ‘Go on, put baby girl to bed.’

  As Garry disappeared down the hallway, she turned to Annalisa. ‘Let’s get this lot sorted then crack open a bottle of wine. We deserve it.’

  The two women worked quickly to gather the debris from tabletops and the floor, wipe sticky fingerprints off walls and the TV cabinet, and retrieve half-sucked lollies from down the back of the couch.

  The party had been a raging success in Annalisa’s estimation. Luna’s little friends from kindy had run gleefully amok, hyped up on sometimes-food and too much sugar. Mel had said that sending them home hyped up was the least she could do in exchange for providing a two-hour break for the parents. Fair exchange.

  Finally, the last bit of muck had been cleaned up. Mel collapsed on the couch and leaned her head back. ‘I could sleep for a week.’

  Annalisa sank into an armchair opposite. ‘I don’t know how people cope with big families. It must be like this most of the time.’

  ‘I, for one, have no intention of ever finding out.’

  ‘Finding out what?’ Garry appeared carrying three wine glasses and a bottle of cabernet merlot.

  ‘I knew there was a reason I married you,’ said Mel.

  ‘And I knew there was a reason I approved of said marriage,’ said Annalisa as Garry passed her a glass. ‘Thank you, kind sir.’

  ‘Before you ask,’ said Garry as he handed a glass to Mel, ‘Luna is snoring her head off.’

  ‘To the possibility of a sleep-in.’ Mel raised her glass in toast.

  ‘To Annalisa for being such a good sport,’ said Garry. ‘I did have a moment’s concern when I saw you go under during the piñata. It was like watching a good rugby scrum.’

  ‘I’ve got the bruises to show for it too.’

  ‘Those kids were more intimidating than a bunch of drunk-and-disorderlies down the pub on a Saturday night.’ As the local police officer, Garry had broken up his fair share of Saturday night scuffles.

  ‘Oh, I nearly forgot.’ Garry put the bottle of wine down on the walnut coffee table and reached into the back pocket of his jeans. ‘Your phone buzzed and I thought it might be important. And there’s a bit of cake jammed in the camera lens. You might want to clean that off before you take your next photo.’

  Annalisa reached for her phone, glancing quickly at the screen. A warm flush crept along her skin when she saw who the message was from.

  ‘Ah! The new boyfriend.’ Mel sat up, looking alert and remarkably refreshed.

  ‘What boyfriend?’ Garry looked blankly from Mel to Annalisa. ‘Please explain.’

  Annalisa sighed dramatically. ‘He is not my boyfriend. He’s a friend I made through the Goldfields community page.’

  ‘How do you know he’s not a scammer hoping to get his hands on your money?’ Garry put on his interrogation face. His job had taught him some tricks.

  ‘That’s what I said!’ Mel tucked her legs underneath her.

  ‘Settle down, Holmes and Watson. There is nothing going on here. Nada. Zip.’ She used her hands to emphasise, nearly sloshing her wine onto the floor in the meantime.

  ‘You be careful,’ Garry warned. ‘People get scammed all the time.’

  ‘Before you know it, he’ll be asking for money to help his sick grandmother or something.’ Mel nodded knowingly, as if she were privy to such things all the time. ‘She doesn’t even know his real name.’

  ‘No, I don’t, and it doesn’t matter because we’re just friends. Harmless friends. Like I told the old guys, I haven’t got two cents to rub together so if it’s money he’s after, he’s out of luck.’

  ‘You could send him a box of screws with a note …’ said Garry.

  ‘… saying screw you!’ Mel finished for him. They both chortled and high-fived each other. Once more, Annalisa felt outside that special bubble that only two people who loved each other could have.

  ‘Very funny,’ she muttered. ‘I’ve got bigger problems than possible scammers.’

  ‘That bad, huh?’ Mel frowned, switching quickly from humour to concern.

  Annalisa sighed. ‘I’ve got to increase takings and I have no idea how to do it. Nonna thinks I ought to offer craft courses, you know, create a new revenue stream.’

  ‘Sounds like a good idea to me,’ said Garry. ‘Look at that doll house. It’s a cracker.’

  ‘And the furniture is just darling,’ said Mel. ‘I bet there’d be plenty of parents who’d want to make something like that for their kid.’

  ‘Let’s face it, you’ve got to do something with that huge Carpenter’s Warehouse opening twenty minutes away,’ said Garry.

  ‘It’s not opening for ages, is it?’ Annalisa leaned forward as if willing the answer she wanted to hear from Garry’s lips.

  ‘As far as I know, the building is up and it’s all systems go. They’ve started advertising for employees.’

  Annalisa slumped back in her seat. She’d baulked at sitting down and thinking about the prospect of a big hardware superstore coming into the area, hoping that something would magically happen, that someone would raise a protest to council, and the proposal would stall. Her rationale had been based on the fact that these places were usually located in big towns. She’d been counting on that fact; now it seemed she was wrong.

  ‘Be good for the unemployment rate around here,’ said Garry. ‘Get a bit of cash flowing in the community.’

  Annalisa looked at him, horrified.

  ‘Garry,’ Mel hissed, elbowing him in the ribs.

  ‘Oh, sorry.’ He had the good grace to colour with embarrassment. ‘I know that it will probably mean you’re out of a job.’

  ‘Not if she gets stuck into these craft courses and builds a name for herself,’ said Mel brightly. ‘It might be just the thing to set you apart, that and your personal customer service.’

  ‘Who’d come? We’re in the middle of nowhere.’ Annalisa couldn’t visualise people wanting to drive in from other towns to make a macramé hanger or a teeny tiny bed suite. They would, however, drive to get to a superstore that offered a sausage sizzle and coffee as well as everything else they could ever need in the hardware department.

  ‘Make it a Sunday and I reckon you’d get some takers. It’s lovely around here. The café is open. There’s a park for the kids to play in. I’d come do your course and make Garry look after Luna.’

  ‘That’s one taker already,’ said Garry. ‘You’re on your way.’

  Annalisa gave her friends a lopsided smile. ‘Thanks, guys. I’ve got to d
o something so I might as well start with something I know. Nonna reckons a workshop on how to make a macramé plant hanger would get a few takers. What do you think?’

  ‘One of those super big ones? I’d be into that.’ Mel took a mouthful of wine.

  ‘That reminds me, do you think old Joe fancies Nonna? I’ve noticed a vibe lately.’

  ‘He’s the super cranky old guy, right?’ Mel took another sip while she thought it over. ‘Can’t say I’ve noticed anything out of the ordinary but then I don’t see them together very much.’

  ‘You know, there’s no reason why you couldn’t offer your own sausage sizzle or cupcakes or whatever,’ said Garry, clearly trying to be positive and make up for his gaffe.

  ‘Not a bad idea.’ Mel turned to him with a look on her face of surprise and pride, as if he’d just solved a particularly tricky puzzle.

  ‘Okay.’ Garry slapped his hands on his thighs and stood up. ‘It’s decided. Annalisa’s first class will be macramé and we’re going to order pizza to celebrate.’

  Annalisa sipped her wine and let the idea settle around her. A macramé class would be fairly easy to set up and the costs would be low. She could find a pattern for something a bit different, something people would want to come and make. Maybe she could find some pretty wooden or ceramic beads. Her mind started whirring through the possibilities. If Carpenter’s Warehouse were coming, she’d be ready for them.

  ‘Make mine a loaded pepperoni please,’ said Mel. ‘I’m starving.’

  Garry looked surprised. ‘You were shovelling those cocktail sausages down like there was no tomorrow.’

  ‘Everyone knows there is absolutely no nutrition in a cocktail sausage,’ Mel huffed.

  ‘A loaded pepperoni pizza, on the other hand, contains what exactly?’

  ‘Joy,’ said Mel. ‘Pure bloody joy.’

  ‘Have it your way.’ Garry shrugged. ‘Annalisa, what would you like?’

  ‘Same please,’ she said. ‘I’m in the mood for some pure unadulterated joy myself.’

  Ed flipped the pizza box open and inspected the contents. He’d gone back to the self-service apartment in Bendigo, unpacked his groceries and lain on the bed contemplating the events of the afternoon before he got back in his car and drove around Bendigo until he found a takeaway pizza joint. What else was he going to do? He’d had time so he’d killed it dead.

  Now he sat at the banquette, his laptop open and playing Brooklyn After Dark on repeat; he knew the movie so well he could mouth the dialogue. An open beer beckoned. He picked up a piece of cold pizza and bit into it. He couldn’t bring himself to put the pizza in the microwave and watch it turn soggy.

  He looked around the apartment. Everything appeared perfect, clean and shiny. All the things he did not feel. The setting had all the charm of a corporate office and the silence was deafening.

  Seeing Annalisa today had done nothing to bring any clarity to his situation. She looked like she’d walked straight out of his imagination, everything he’d fantasised she’d be. Where was she now? Still at the kid’s party? He picked up his phone. Nothing.

  Ed sighed. He’d blown it this afternoon. He should have spoken up.

  They were friends and Annalisa would have been pleased to see him, he felt sure. But she’d been in a hurry and the timing had been off. At least that’s what he told himself as he combed through every detail of their encounter again and again.

  On the upside, he’d found her once so he could find her again. He had her name now and the bakery people knew her. He could drop by and ask them when he went to see the Cappellis. Simple.

  By that time, he might have got over his tongue-tied teenager act and be able to string a sentence together.

  Ed couldn’t remember a time when a woman had taken the rug out from under him like that, reducing him to a babbling fool. There was something about her, a quality she had, that had arrested him and taken him prisoner. One thing was for certain, his question about whether their online connection translated into real life had been answered. It most certainly did.

  He contemplated the possibility of Annalisa as more than just a friend while he watched teenage gangsters get life all wrong and munched on his pizza. Rosie and Oliver’s idea of torturing him by sending him out to the sticks was about to backfire on them badly. The idea made him smile.

  GoldfieldsGirl SAT @ 8:42 PM

  Are you ready?

  GardenerGuy94 SAT @ 8:43 PM

  You’ve got me intrigued. Ready for what?

  GoldfieldsGirl SAT @ 8:45 PM

  My big cool business idea of course.

  GardenerGuy94 SAT @ 8:48 PM

  It’s Saturday night. I had hopes …

  GoldfieldsGirl SAT @ 8:50 PM

  Sorry to dash them. I’m sitting here in my pyjamas after an exhausting afternoon playing with a bunch of rabid four-year-olds. I swear there’s still cake in my hair.

  GardenerGuy94 SAT @ 8:53 PM

  What kind of pyjamas?

  GoldfieldsGirl SAT @ 8:57 PM

  Hey! Keep your mind on the business at hand. Do you want to know my idea or not?

  GardenerGuy94 SAT @ 8:59 PM

  I’m all ears.

  GoldfieldsGirl SAT @ 9:00 PM

  I’m going to start giving craft classes. I’ve talked it over with friends and everyone thinks it’s a great idea. Worth a try, right? It’s been a long time since I was sure about anything, but I’m sure about this.

  GardenerGuy94 SAT @ 9:02 PM

  Sounds like an excellent idea. I’m assuming you’re pretty crafty?

  GoldfieldsGirl SAT @ 9:02 PM

  In the very best possible way … But I am worried that I haven’t got any qualifications to do this sort of thing. Do you think anyone will notice or mind? I’m sending you a photo of the doll house I made for my goddaughter’s birthday. [FILE ATTACHED]

  GardenerGuy94 SAT @ 9:05 PM

  You have got to be kidding me! You made this? It’s incredible. I think craft classes is a genius idea and no one will care about qualifications if they’re leaving your classes with something incredible they’ve made themselves.

  GoldfieldsGirl SAT @ 9:08 PM

  Thank you. Your opinion has come to mean so much to me. I feel like we’re friends although we’ve never met. We are friends, aren’t we?

  GardenerGuy94 SAT @ 9:12 PM

  Yes, we are definitely friends. Now, back to those pyjamas …

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Ed pulled up over the road from Cappelli’s Hardware store and turned off the engine. Monday morning had dawned crisp and clear after a day that had dragged on and on. He’d ended up going for a drive, using every ounce of self-discipline he had not to cruise past the bakery on the off-chance he’d see Annalisa.

  Now, as he sat in the warm cab of the Hilux, his nerves wanted to keep him there. He hadn’t done this sort of thing before and had no idea how to go about it.

  The shop had opened half an hour ago. He’d meant to come by later only somehow things hadn’t worked out that way. Through the window, he could make out a handful of people milling about. The light cast a warm golden glow over everything.

  He hadn’t anticipated Cappelli’s being so busy. Maybe business wasn’t as tough as he’d supposed. He also noticed that while people went into the store, no one came out again, which made him curious as to what they were all up to. So far, every person who’d entered had been over seventy by his reckoning.

  What he intended to say to Nancetta Cappelli when he finally summoned up the courage to walk through the door remained a mystery to him. He’d spent Sunday racking his brains for the right words. Nothing worked. He’d written down whole speeches only to crumple them up and throw them away. The bag for garbage had been overflowing by lunchtime. How did you tell someone that you thought your business was going to crush their business, let alone offer them a cheque to close up shop and go away?

  He’d only have one shot at getting his speech right. Mess it up and she might very well raise a protes
t against Carpenter’s. Get it right and he might have a chance of proving himself to Rosie and Oliver for a change.

  Another old man stepped beyond the shop door. He could see them all talking animatedly, their hands punctuating the air, and then a faint echo hinted at some laughter.

  The silence in the car had reached a deafening crescendo when he reached for his phone. He’d message Annalisa, check in and see how she was doing. Totally normal thing to do and something he’d have done if he’d still been in Melbourne. Ed tapped out a message and pressed send. Then the waiting began.

  Annalisa’s day had started as it always did but with one significant difference. Her mood.

  Buoyed by the conversations on the weekend, including her message exchange with GardenerGuy94, she now had a plan and a purpose—two things she’d sadly been lacking on Friday. She’d even opened the shop early, before Joe had begun rapping on the door.

  ‘What’s this?’ he’d said. ‘You wet the bed or something?’

  ‘Very funny. Have you considered the fact that I might not be early but that you are late for once?’

  He shook his head, his shaggy white hair quivering with the effort. ‘Not possible.’

  ‘Anything is possible, Joe.’ Annalisa had spread her arms wide, believing in this moment that miracles might occur.

  ‘You been at the grape juice again or something.’ Joe shuffled over to take his regular place. ‘What’s this?’

  She’d put his coffee cup out already.

  ‘What does it look like? Salami?’ She laughed and went out back to make his customary piece of toast.

  When she came back, she found him shaking his head.

  ‘You going through a midlife crisis or something?’

  ‘I’m not even thirty yet, Joe.’

  ‘Whatever. You might not make sixty so technically you’re midlife now.’

  ‘Such a cheery soul. Don’t apply for any jobs at Lifeline.’

  ‘Why would I want to work at a second-hand clothes shop at my age?’ He looked at her quizzically.

  ‘Never mind.’ She waved away the conversation like you would a fly.

  The front door opened and Terry loped in, his posture like a question mark.