Love and Other Battles

by Tess Woods

  ‘You can write songs about it.’ He offered her a small smile.

  The lunch bell sounded.

  ‘Anyways, I just wanted to say that I liked your song.’

  ‘Thanks, Finn.’

  ‘See you round, eh?’

  She nodded. ‘Bye.’

  He turned and walked back the way he’d come.

  Letting out the breath she’d been holding onto, CJ opened her locker and reached in for her salad tub. Wow! Finn Maxwell had actually spoken to her!

  ‘CJ?’ He was back.

  ‘Hi.’ She smiled at him questioningly.

  ‘Do you want to go get something to eat after school today? Like, churros or something?’

  OMG! ‘Yeah, um, yes. That sounds awesome. Who’s going?’

  He gave his hair another comb through with his fingers. ‘Ah, I was thinking just you and me.’

  ‘Oh. Okay, sure. I’d love to.’ A burst of butterflies exploded in her stomach.

  ‘So I’ll just come meet you back here when the home bell goes?’

  She nodded fast.

  ‘Good.’ He dropped his eyes down her body and up again for the briefest of seconds. ‘See you, CJ.’ He walked away.

  Before she could collect her thoughts, Mia appeared out of nowhere. ‘What happened? What did he say to you?’

  Not quite believing the words as they came out, she replied, ‘Um, I think Finn just asked me out.’

  Mia’s jaw dropped and she threw her arms around CJ’s neck. ‘I told you he liked you!’ She shook her gently by the shoulders. ‘See! Finn’s your boyfriend, dude!’

  ‘As if!’ She laughed, delighted. ‘Come on, let’s have lunch. I’m starving.’

  ***

  There was no awkward small talk when CJ and Finn met up after school. During the fifteen-minute walk to the cafe strip opposite the beach, Finn chatted easily about his favourite bands, how much school sucked, and how he wished he could drop out and get himself a regular gig for money, but his engineer dad expected him to do well at school and get a university degree instead.

  ‘Mum’s making me go to uni too,’ CJ sympathised. ‘She keeps saying that I’ll love it and that I’ll thank her once I’m there, but I know I won’t. All I want is to get a job so I can save enough money to make a demo. But she won’t even let me look for part-time work until I graduate so I can focus on school.’

  Finn laughed. ‘Miss Stone would get along great with my dad.’

  ‘So, what about your mum?’ CJ asked. ‘What does she think about you going to uni?’

  ‘She doesn’t say much. If she disagreed with my dad, she wouldn’t admit it.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘Yeah. It’s a bit like that.’ He frowned. ‘But I don’t really want to talk about it, if that’s all right.’

  ‘Sure, of course.’ She found herself touching his forearm, and when she let her hand drop back down, he reached for it and slipped it into his.

  CJ’s heart jumped about in her chest and she had no idea what to say next, but Finn didn’t miss a beat. ‘So, churros . . . dark chocolate sauce, milk or white? Choose carefully, CJ, I’m totally judging you on this.’

  She giggled. ‘Milk.’

  He gave her hand a squeeze. ‘That answer is correct, Charlotte Stone. Hey, what’s the J stand for in CJ?’

  ‘James. It’s my nan’s maiden name.’

  ‘That’s cool. Is that why your mom’s called Jamie?’

  ‘Kind of, yeah. She didn’t like her first name so she started using Jamie from her surname instead.’

  ‘What’s her first name?’

  ‘Nirvana.’

  ‘Wait, what?’ He laughed. ‘Miss Stone’s name is Nirvana?’

  ‘I know, right? Crazy.’

  He let out a long whistle. ‘I’ll say. I mean, it’s Miss Stone. She’s, I don’t know, she’s the anti-Nirvana or something.’

  It was true, her mum was as un-grungey as anybody could get. She wore fitted skirt suits and stilettos, her makeup was always perfect and she never had a strand of bleached blonde hair out of place. But still, Finn mocking her mum made CJ feel uncomfortable.

  ‘What about my name?’ she said to divert him. ‘Do you know I was named after Charlotte’s Web? Ugh, so lame.’

  ‘CJ’s a good name though. You made the spider’s name cool.’

  They kept holding hands until they reached the cafe and Finn only let go when it was time to order.

  He asked for churros for two with milk chocolate sauce and then turned to her. ‘Chocolate milkshake?’ It was more a statement than a question.

  ‘Sure.’

  They paid half each and found a corner booth. He held out his arm, indicating for her to sit first, so she slid in and he followed her onto the red vinyl seat.

  She took in the scent of his deodorant or his hair product or whatever it was that made him smell so good. The way he was looking at her made it almost impossible for her to breathe normally.

  ‘Your hair’s pretty.’ He played with one of her curls. ‘Your eyes are pretty. You’re pretty all over.’ He shuffled a little closer.

  She shook her head, smiling. ‘Stop it. I am not.’

  ‘Want me to stop talking?’ He leaned his head in closer. ‘I’ll stop talking then,’ he whispered, so close to her ear that his hot breath made her shiver. Then he planted a gentle kiss on her neck.

  CJ inhaled and he kissed her again. She closed her eyes while he dotted her neck with light kisses, his hand resting on her knee.

  He drew away and she opened her eyes, but she barely had time to register the desire on his face before he leaned in again and kissed her fully on the mouth.

  She lost all train of thought. His lips were soft and warm, and his tongue made her crazy with longing. She couldn’t hear any of the noise in the cafe. Not a thing. They didn’t stop kissing until the waiter coughed as he put their milkshakes down on the table.

  Finn gave her a huge smile. ‘Sorry, I probably should have waited longer to do that. It’s just . . . I’ve been wanting to kiss you for ages.’

  ‘Don’t say sorry.’ She cupped her hand around the back of his neck and pulled him back in again. She’d been waiting a long, long time to be kissed like that and she wasn’t ready for it to stop just yet.

  6 NOVEMBER 2017

  ‘Ouch, my feet are killing me.’ Jamie winced, toeing off her stilettos.

  ‘I don’t know why you always insist on wearing such ridiculous shoes.’ Andrew shook his head. ‘You’re already limping and it’s just gone eight am.’

  ‘Because they’re pretty. Look at that — it’s art.’ She held one of her shoes up with reverence. ‘See how gorgeous and sparkly they are? And they’re my one and only pair of Manolos so they’re totally worth the pain.’ She rubbed her aching feet. ‘How was your weekend?’

  Jamie always enjoyed Monday morning meetings with her deputy principal. Andrew Corelli was fun and easy to get along with, and he kept her entertained with his epic weekend adventures. He was less than two years younger than her, but he led the life of a 25-year-old, not the 45-year-old he actually was.

  ‘You know what I did on Saturday night?’ He swivelled his hips as he made his way to the coffee machine. ‘I went to a swing dancing class.’

  ‘What?’ She laughed. ‘Swing dancing? You?’

  ‘What’s so hard to believe about me going dancing? I’ve got the moves, you know. I was the envy of everyone on the dance floor.’

  She smiled at him. ‘So you had fun, then?’

  ‘Brilliant! Best fun ever. What did you do? Wait, let me guess — paperwork, grocery shopping, housework, TV.’

  ‘You’re making me sound like a drudge.’ Jamie felt her shoulders relax as the coffee machine hummed into life. ‘I took CJ out for frozen yoghurt at St Kilda Beach yesterday, I’ll have you know.’

  ‘Please stop, I’m dying of jealousy for your riotous life. Double shot?’ He had two espresso cups at the ready.

  ‘Yes, please and thank
you.’ Jamie focused on her computer screen. Her home page kept her up to date with all the celebrity gossip. She clicked on an article about The Bachelorette.

  ‘How’s CJ?’ He handed her the coffee and joined her at her desk.

  ‘Funny you should ask.’ She took her eyes off the screen. ‘She’s got a new boyfriend.’

  ‘Ooh.’ His eyes widened. ‘Anyone I know?’

  ‘Finn Maxwell.’

  ‘The American kid?’

  ‘Yep.’

  ‘Ah, go, CJ! She’s done well.’

  ‘Yes, he’s very popular, isn’t he?’ She swallowed.

  ‘You don’t approve? What’s wrong with Finn?’ Andrew knew her too well.

  She gave him her most convincing smile. ‘No, nothing’s wrong with him. I’m happy for her. She’s so excited. First boyfriend and all.’

  It wasn’t like she was lying to Andrew — she genuinely was happy for CJ. She just wished it wasn’t Finn. And it was too hard to explain her misgivings about him — the cockiness, the certainty, the . . . something.

  She cleared her throat and logged into the school account. ‘Let’s see here. The first thing I’ve got written down is to check up on the building developments for the art department. Have the architects sent through the updated plans yet?’

  ***

  When their meeting was finished, Andrew sat forward in his chair. ‘You know what you should do? Come swing dancing next time. It’s a casual class, totally relaxed vibe. It’s on every fortnight. Come with me, it’ll be fun.’

  ‘Pfft. Me? I’ve got two left feet! I can’t go swing dancing, I’ll make a total idiot of myself.’

  ‘And you think I can dance? It’s not about skill, it’s about having a good time.’

  ‘I thought you said you were the envy of everyone on the dance floor.’

  ‘I was. But not for my dancing.’ He grinned.

  ‘Oh, Lord.’ She slurped on a fresh coffee. ‘No wonder you’re still single.’

  ‘Come on, Jamie. You’d love it. What was the last fun thing you did, hey?’

  ‘Look, it’s really kind of you to offer. But I don’t need your charity.’

  ‘Who says it’s charity? Maybe I just want to spend time with you?’

  Her cheeks burned. Could it already be this warm in here at only nine-thirty in the morning?

  ‘Live a little, Jamie!’

  ‘Stop it!’ It came out much harsher than she intended. ‘We work together, Andrew. Let’s not make it messy by going on a date, okay?’ God, why was her voice so shrill?

  ‘Huh? Who said anything about a date? Look, just forget I asked.’ He stood up and made for the door but turned on his heel just before he reached it. ‘We’re not just workmates, by the way. I’m your friend. It’s actually okay if we catch up sometimes. It doesn’t have to be complicated.’

  She didn’t answer as she shuffled through papers until he left.

  Why? Why couldn’t he just leave things the way they were without stupid swing dancing ideas? Now it would be completely awkward between them.

  She turned to her keyboard and googled ‘Swing dancing Melbourne’. The first link was to a YouTube video of a class in Collingwood. The women were all dressed up, with oversized curls in their hair, blood-red lipstick, and wearing huge fifties-style dresses that flew up high as the men dressed in vintage suits swung them around to big band tunes.

  It did look like fun.

  She let herself imagine Andrew twirling her around like that but then she snapped her laptop lid closed.

  She hadn’t been interested in a man in years, and that included Andrew. Sure, he was lovely and smart and cared about her. And he was cute too with his messy curls and his dark twinkling eyes. If she was to be interested in anyone, he would have been at the top of her list. But her heart was closed for business and it was for the best to keep it that way.

  In any case, she didn’t need to go to a swing dancing class to have fun. She had plenty of fun. Plenty. She had her family and they were all she needed. She told herself that twice for good measure.

  22 MARCH 1969

  It was the fourth Saturday in a row that Jess had spent the day with Frank. And it was the first day off for as long as she could remember when she had washed and tied her hair back in the style she did for work, rather than enjoying the freedom of letting it out. She was meeting Frank’s family today. The Catholics. Despite Frank’s assurances otherwise, Jess couldn’t help feeling that his conservative parents might be less than impressed with a wild-haired hippie like her.

  Frank had ended their phone call the night before with the words, ‘Just be yourself, Flower Child. They’ll love you just the way you are. Besides, none of them will give two hoots about what you’re wearing or how you’ve done your hair. They won’t even be looking at you. Not when Maureen’s bringing the new baby around.’

  She would be herself. Just the neater version of herself. So while the other nurses banged on the bathroom door and shouted at her to hurry up, Jess sprayed her tight bun one last time with lacquer and gave herself a final once-over in the mirror. Her room mate, Shelley, had loaned her a modest baby doll dress in pale pink to wear to impress the Stones.

  In the end, she needn’t have been so worried. Despite the framed picture of the Virgin Mary in the entrance hall, there was no Bible-bashing and no anti-communist, pro-war talk in the Stones’ house. In fact, there wasn’t a single moment in the afternoon she passed with Frank’s family, in their weatherboard home in rural Melton, when she felt judged.

  Frank’s parents greeted her with open arms, and all of his five siblings came to the door to meet her — it was quite the welcome party. Although whether they had all congregated in the house that day to see her or the new baby, Stephen, was hard to know. Being the first grandchild of the family, Stephen’s arrival the week before was a big deal.

  Jess had not had much opportunity outside of the hospital to spend time with any babies, and was delighted to be offered a cuddle while Frank’s softly spoken sister Maureen rested on the couch beside her.

  Frank’s mother placed a cup of tea on the table next to Jess. ‘Frank tells us you’re a nurse, dear. How wonderful.’

  ‘Student nurse.’ Jess smiled back. ‘I’ll be fully trained at the end of next year.’

  ‘I was a nurse too, once upon a time. I loved that job.’ Mrs Stone had a faraway look in her eyes.

  ‘Oh?’ Jess’s eyebrows shot up. ‘Frank never said.’

  Mrs Stone chuckled. ‘No, well to him, to all of them really, I’m just their mother, the cook, the cleaner. I stopped working once I married.’

  ‘I see.’ Jess couldn’t imagine giving up nursing for the sake of being a wife. Thank goodness for the new laws that allowed women to keep working in the public service once they were married. ‘Where did you work, Mrs Stone?’

  ‘Here, there and everywhere. I was in district nursing. I lived with the nuns.’

  Frank’s younger sister, Nora, who was only six years older than her new nephew, came running into the room and perched herself between Jess and Maureen, leaning against Jess like they’d known each other all their lives. With her long hair in plaits and her red smock dress, she reminded Jess of a sweet Little Red Riding Hood.

  ‘Frank hasn’t stopped talking about you, you know, every time he phones. I think you’ve got my boy besotted,’ Mrs Stone said. ‘Looks like you’ve got little Stephen besotted as well.’

  Jess stroked the baby’s cheek as he purred in her arms. ‘I’m quite fond of Frank myself. You’ve raised a wonderful son, Mrs Stone.’

  ‘I have indeed.’ She bit into a ginger snap biscuit.

  Jess wondered if Mrs Stone was once as glamorous as Maureen. Despite having just come out of hospital, Maureen’s blonde hair was perfectly set and she was flawlessly made up. Mother and daughter shared the same colouring and gentle nature, but unlike her daughter, Mrs Stone didn’t have a scrap of makeup on, her hair was mostly hidden under a scarf and she wore a rathe
r worn-looking apron over a plain green house-dress, a far cry from Maureen’s gorgeous floral top and bell bottoms.

  From the size of the house and the simple furnishings, it was clear the family wasn’t wealthy. How could they be, with so many of them supported by only Mr Stone’s foreman’s wage? Nevertheless, the house was immaculately clean and tidy, considering there were six people living there.

  Baby Stephen began to fuss so Jess promptly handed him back to his mother.

  ‘Excuse me, girls, I might just check how the barbecue’s coming along.’ Mrs Stone stood up.

  ‘I’ll come with you.’ Jess followed her outside.

  The men were all in the backyard. Frank’s father had finished cooking the meat and was now busy frying onions while all four of the brothers were embroiled in a loud dispute about whether Maureen’s husband, Bill, was out LBW in the game of cricket they were playing.

  They were all so very normal. It made Jess feel a bit stupid really. What had she expected? That they’d be clutching their rosaries and praying to statues of the Pope? Frank was easygoing and accepting of her, so why had she thought his family would be any different? She loved that they didn’t make much of a fuss around her being there for the first time, yet they still managed to make her feel welcome — it was a lovely blend of warmth and space.

  This was the sort of family she’d grown up dreaming about. As the only child of a single dad, she’d lived with housekeepers and cooks in palatial apartments where the celebrities who often came to stay felt right at home, when what she’d yearned for all along was what Frank had — a big family crowded around a fold-out table, paper plates in hand, laughing and talking together. If she ever had children, she wanted them to live in a home like Frank’s — a real family home with a yard.

  It wasn’t as if she’d been unhappy living with her dad. They were very close, the two of them, and he doted on her. But their small family of two had never felt like enough. Frank’s family, that was what enough was.

  She’d been raised to be suspicious of big families, especially Catholic ones with their rampant breeding. Her exclusive non-denominational private-school education and public hospital training, meant she’d never really socialised with Catholics before. Frank’s family were so far from what she’d believed about ‘those God-botherers’.