Sweet Delights

by P. L. Harris

  “I can’t believe I haven’t run into her at the school,” Annie said, shaking her head and shrugging.

  “Her other grandmother picks her up a lot so that’s probably why.”

  “She’s a sweet girl,” Annie added.

  “You always wanted children, have you come close to that yet?” He asked. He assumed that she would have mentioned kids or a partner by now if they existed, or that he’d have heard from one of their old friends. But maybe not? Maybe she did already have a family and he was about to look like an awkward fool. The realisation that she might actually have a partner hit him like a ton of bricks. He’d always expected one of their old friends would mention if she got married, but they might not bother saying anything if it wasn’t big news like an engagement or wedding. And maybe they wouldn’t say anything at all since they probably didn’t expect he still thought about Annie as much as he did. Clearly he’d startled her with the sudden serious question, as her eyes grew wide and her smile dropped. He held his breath as he waited for her answer.

  “No,” she said simply, this time though he sensed she wasn’t trying to avoid talking, she simply sounded sad.

  “Me either,” he said. The small smile and nod she gave him as he said that spurred him on so he continued, “No partner?” he asked simply, not bothering to filter the questions.

  If he only had one night to speak to Annie, he wanted to know all the important details, even if the answers hurt him. And they’d always spoken about everything when they were young. Their friendship had been one with few boundaries. Well, mostly.

  “Not at the moment, I dated Joe for a few years but that ended a while ago.”

  “Joe, as in from high school?” he asked, unable to stop his voice raising an octave. The fact she wasn’t dating anyone currently had him breathing a little easier, but he how had he never heard that she’d dated Joe, of all people?

  “Don’t act so surprised. You knew he liked me.”

  “Well yeah, but I didn’t think you liked him, you said you liked someone else back then.” As soon as he finished his sentence, he regretted it. What was he, sixteen years old again? They’d been teenagers when she’d said that, things change over time.

  “You remember that?” she asked, clearly surprised.

  “Of course,” he said, staring at her.

  “I thought it was Alan, I figured you’d date him, and I was surprised when you never did.”

  “Alan?” she said, her voice barely above a whisper now.

  “Well yes, you were always hanging at our house, so I figured it made sense.”

  “I was at your house to spend time with you, not your brother,” she said, looking at him like he’d just said the stupidest thing in the world.

  He stood there, mulling over her words. They’d been best friends for years. But at the end of the summer break, just before they were heading back to university, he to Wodonga and she to Melbourne, he’d asked her if she liked Joe, since Joe had been swooning over her all year. When she’d said no, and that she liked someone else, he’d assumed it was his brother Alan. He was the only other guy she’d really spent much time with that year. Well except himself, but he knew she didn’t like him. He’d asked her not long before via text message and she’d replied quickly with no. He’d never brought it up again because the last thing he’d wanted was to lose her altogether, even though he’d been in love with her for as long as he could remember at that point. He’d figured when they lost touch that his heart would move on eventually, they’d been so young after all. Whenever he’d thought of her over the years, which had been often, he’d told himself it was just nostalgia. But he knew now, looking at her, that the feelings had been simmering away all along and were bubbling to the surface after just a couple of hours in her presence.

  Ring. Ring.

  He was snapped from his memories by her mobile ringing.

  “Hello?” He heard her say.

  “Yes of course, see you soon.”

  He looked at her expectantly.

  “That was my friend, Melanie, she’ll be here soon to help. I called her earlier, before you got here,” she said, almost sheepishly. She’d obviously invited her as a buffer, unsure how their reunion would go. He knew then that he had to ask her before it was too late. The one thing that had burned at him all these years.

  “What happened to us?” He blurted, unable to hold it in anymore. She stared at him.

  “What, what do you mean?”

  “What happened, Annie? Did you just not want to be around me after I told you how I felt?” She just continued looking at him, as though she was searching his face for something, so he continued. “You never said anything, so I left it. I thought we could stay friends. We spent the rest of the uni break together. I figured everything was going to be fine. Did something else happen?”

  After what felt like an age she finally spoke, “What are you talking about? What do you mean, told me how you felt, I don’t understand?”

  “Well, the text. You know what I mean. I know I should have had the guts to tell you in person. I was too nervous.”

  “Will, I literally do not know what you’re talking about?”

  He sighed, apparently that moment was a lot more of a defining moment in his life than hers.

  “Must have meant more to me than it did to you,” he said, attempting to keep the bitterness out of his voice and failing. She moved towards him and laid her hand on his arm.

  “Will, I’m sorry, I really don’t know what you’re talking about. Trust me when I say, if you had said something to me about your feelings, I would not forget it. Please tell me what you mean?”

  He looked at her, searching her face for the truth. Surely, she knew what he was referring to?

  “Remember the night we went to Con’s party? I wanted to tell you in person then. I’d been working myself up to it for months. Years maybe. But that night, when I picked you up, I knew it had to be then. It was still sunny when I pulled up. You ran straight outside. Your hair flew behind you as you raced down the path. The sun made the blonde in your hair flicker like gold. Your face was sun-kissed, just a hint of makeup. Your natural beauty was shining as you smiled that enormous smile that I always felt was reserved just for me.” He paused for a moment. Were these things really spilling from his mouth? He’d been accused of being unromantic by his last girlfriend, but he seemed suddenly unable to stop saying these things to Annie. It was as though they’d been built up inside him for years and the floodgates were suddenly open. This wasn’t really him, and yet perhaps he’d never been so himself before.

  “I thought you were beautiful every day. But that day, as you ran out to my car, you took my breath away.” She was clutching her hand to her mouth, he swore he could see a tear welling in her eye. He figured he might as well continue spilling his guts now. He had nothing to lose. After all, it was ten years ago. Though something about this conversation felt more in the moment than he’d expected. “I chickened out in person. That’s why I messaged you after I dropped you and Shae off. When I got home, I decided I’d likely never have the courage to tell you to your face. So, I messaged you instead.”

  “What did you say?” she said, though he barely heard her, her voice so low.

  “I wish we would be more than friends.” It cut him to the core that she didn’t remember, when he could recall every moment and word of that night.

  “I never got that message.”

  “But you replied saying you didn’t feel the same.” He was genuinely puzzled now, bordering on annoyed. How could she possibly forget it had happened? The words and moments themselves, he could perhaps understand, but the fact she didn’t seem to recall anything was starting to seem odd and a little hurtful.

  “I promise you, I didn’t. That is not what I would have said.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Will, I swear to you if I had seen that message, I would have called you right at that moment and told you I had wanted the same
thing for as long as I could remember.”

  It was his turn for his mouth to gape open. What on earth was happening?

  “But I got the message,” he insisted.

  “Shae,” they said in unison, both realising at the same moment that her old friend had probably replied for her, without ever telling her.

  “She always had a crush on you, figures that she would have done something like that without telling me. We haven’t been friends for a long time now,” Annie said, shaking her head, “for good reason obviously.”

  “But it wasn’t just that. We kept on as friends for a month after that. I just pretended it had never happened because I didn’t want to lose my best friend. Why did you stop talking to me when we went back to uni?” he asked, still puzzled.

  “You said you didn’t want to be friends anymore and I was tired of pretending not to be in love with you.” They both froze when she said it. The words hung between them like a boulder, threatening to crash down on them both. He would deal with that in a moment.

  “What are you talking about? I never said I didn’t want to be friends.” He would have laughed at the absurdity of this conversation, and the amount of miscommunication, if he weren’t so confused.

  “I read your time capsule letter,” she said, blushing and averting her eyes.

  “Huh?” he said, completely confused now.

  “At the end of that summer, don’t you remember we put those letters in the time capsule and promised we’d open them in 20 years.” He nodded as she continued, “I snuck a peek before we buried it. You said you didn’t want to be friends anymore.”

  “Annie, that is not what I said,” he said softly, suddenly understanding. The level of miscommunication that was now clear had kept them apart all those years ago was gut-wrenching, like something from a movie, and his stomach was in knots. Reaching out his hand to lift her chin, he silently pleaded with her to meet his eyes. As she looked at him, he was almost as lost for words as he had been all those years ago. But he forced himself to continue.

  “Annie, my note said I hope Annie isn’t my friend anymore.”

  “I know, that’s what I’m saying,” she said, a pained look on her face.

  “Annie, I hoped that when we opened that time capsule when we were forty that we would have been far more than friends for an exceptionally long time. I said I hoped you weren’t my friend anymore because I wanted you to be more.”

  “Oh.” The weight of the loss of the last ten years they could have had together seemed to crush her at that moment as he watched her face completely crumple. They stood for what felt like minutes, their eyes boring into each other’s. So much anguish, so much lost time. If only one of them hadn’t been so stubborn and shy, if one of them had just spoken about what they felt. But they’d been young and afraid.

  Now that they were true adults, and finally discussing their old feelings, his mind was reeling. Was it possible she felt the same way now as she was telling him she felt all those years ago? Was her clear devastation a sign she still reflected his feelings? Or simply a sign she wished things had been different back then? Where they discussing the past or the present? He wasn’t even sure anymore and he was almost too afraid to ask. But there was a glimmer of hope in her eyes that he imagined was reflected in his. He took a deep breath; it was now or never.

  He closed the small gap, pulling her to him, his lips finding hers. The kiss was soft and gentle at first, almost tentative. But as her hands wound up behind his neck, and she deepened the kiss, a sense of urgency overtook them both. It was as though they were trying to make up for lost time, clinging together. As they melted into one, he knew for sure what had been missing all those years- her. And he knew he was finally home.

  Lemon Snippets

  Helen Walton

  The warm scent of lemon filled the kitchen. I loved lemon, even if it reminded me of a certain person and a lemon-flavoured kiss. A person I’d see at dinner tonight. Nerves clenched my stomach, and I sighed.

  I bent and retrieved the lemon meringue pie from the oven. More of the delicious lemon aroma drifted into the room. I’d cooked the soft white peaks of the pie to the perfection of a light tan. I smiled, happy with the pie but not the upcoming dinner.

  At least the pie would please Ivy. Her request, lemon meringue pie, even though she preferred my banana caramel pie. I understood why she’d requested lemon instead. Part of me wanted to deny her, but that’s what best friends are for. It’s why I couldn’t say no to baking the pie for Ivy’s dinner, or to attending it.

  The things we do for best friends.

  My phone buzzed with the song ‘ABC’ by the Jackson 5. Ivy’s joke when we’d celebrated her engagement with multiple glasses of champagne and ended up rather tipsy. The pie wobbled in my hand, like the champagne glass that night. I slid the dish onto the counter before I ruined dinner. It was a possibility anyway.

  I shook off the oven mitts and snatched my phone from the counter.

  “Claire,” Ivy whispered. “He’s here already.”

  “Corn nuts,” I mumbled while my stomach twisted.

  “Get over here now. He’s grilling Martin. The poor guy can’t get a word in.”

  “Okay, okay. I’ll be there in a jiffy.”

  I hung up and slid the mitts back on. I picked up the pie and made my way out the back door and hurried across the road to Ivy’s house. It used to be Ivy’s parents’ house, but her parents and mine sold up and went caravanning around Australia together. It was a no brainer for either of us to buy our family homes. Growing up as best friends living across the road from each other, we couldn’t stand the notion of not living so close. Of not having our dream our kids would grow up as best friends too. It appeared Ivy would be the first to have kids. I didn’t mind, or maybe I did. It put a damper on our dream when I no longer had a boyfriend and she was engaged.

  Ivy swung open her pristine white back door. “Quick, get in here,” she hissed through clenched teeth.

  I dashed into the equally pristine white kitchen. Ivy shut the back door a bare second before the interior kitchen door swung open and Travis stood in the doorway. I froze with the pie in my hands, my gaze drinking in the sight of him.

  “Thanks for getting the pie out of the oven,” Ivy gushed.

  Travis surveyed the room, then narrowed his coffee-coloured eyes. “Claire Bear.”

  His nickname Bear for my surname Beyer sent a tingle of closeness through my heart. And like that, my stupid crush was in full swing. Not my fault. Really, it wasn’t. Travis was gorgeous, and not in an understated way. He could be a model with his high cheekbones, firm jaw, and brooding eyes under a decadent golden mane.

  I stared up and, up. He was almost a foot taller than me. It made me think about...nope, don’t go there.

  “Travis.” I nodded. Proud of myself for sounding indifferent when my heart pounded inside my ribcage.

  His stare didn’t waver. “I should’ve known you’d be coming to dinner too.”

  My mouth firmed into a tight line, and I returned his narrowed stare.

  Ivy rushed forward and slid her arm around my waist. “Of course, I invited Claire to dinner, she’s part of the family.”

  Travis grunted and turned on his heel, letting the door swing shut in our faces.

  “Man, he has a huge stick up his—”

  “Yep.” I giggled. “It’s a fine one though.”

  Ivy pinched my arm. “Hey, that’s my brother.”

  “Sorry.” Corn nuts. How did I slip like that? I’d kept my crush on her brother a secret for so long. Why did I slip now? There was no way I’d ruin our friendship over Travis Campbell, chef extraordinaire, and A-grade corn nut. Not to mention the best kisser. Ever. I wouldn’t tell Ivy that.

  Besides, the kiss was a lifetime ago.

  Teenage hormones run rampant. Nothing more.

  Except wishful thinking on my part.

  “Let’s get this dinner over with.” Then I’d go home and wallow with c
hocolate and ice-cream and drown my feelings for Travis under a mountain of sugar.

  I placed the lemon meringue pie on the counter, shook off the oven mitts, and opened the kitchen door. In the dining room, Travis watched Ivy’s fiancé, Martin, across the round glass table. Martin appeared as uncomfortable as the patients in the oncology ward where he met Ivy. It was sweet they found love in such a depressing workplace.

  “Hi, Martin.” I sat at the table set with china plates decorated with gold leaves and sparkling silver cutlery. Ivy was going all out to impress her brother. “How are you?”

  “Good, thanks. And you?” Martin tugged on the collar of his white shirt, then ran his hand through his black hair.

  “The kids ran me ragged this week. They were all excited about the volleyball clinic on the beach. I got a little too much sun.”

  “You always have a nice tan,” Travis said. “Wine?”

  I swung to my right. Did Travis compliment me? I nodded in muteness while my heart pounded. Travis poured a good measure of red wine into my sparkling wine glass and Ivy’s too.

  “You do,” Ivy said, carrying a large serving dish into the dining room. “I envied your tan growing up. Travis and I lucked out with the pale skin.”

  “I like your pale skin.”

  Did I say that?

  Heat travelled up my neck to my cheeks. Lucky for me the colour wouldn’t show on my bronzed skin, not like when Ivy blushed.

  “Are you still working at Westerly Elementary School?” Travis asked.

  “Yes.” I sipped my wine. “Are you still working at le Trefle Magique in France?”

  Could this get any more awkward? I shouldn’t have come to dinner. My palms grew damp. I should have made the pie and told Ivy to collect it. Travis was right, I wasn’t family, and I’d never be a member of their family. Disappointment sat heavy in my heart.

  Travis reached for the serving spoon. “No. I’m moving back to Perth and opening a restaurant.”

  “You are,” squealed Ivy.

  “I am.” He nodded and filled his plate with the delicious smelling creamy pasta. “You cooked my favourite dish, parmesan bacon chicken linguine.”