Exposed: An Anthology

by Brooke Cumberland

  “What?” I screech excitedly

  “God did that boy know how to use the equipment God gifted him,” she muses dreamily.

  “Where did you meet him? Is he local? Are you going to see him again? Oh my god, Jules, I can’t believe you held out me for this long!”

  “Slow down with the questions, woman,” she jokes, “I didn’t want to say anything last night in front of anyone. He is from here; apparently he owns a farm just out of town. I doubt I’ll see him again because I leave tomorrow, remember?”

  “I don’t think I’ve ever met him – I’d remember a name like Clay. Is he hot?”

  “God yes. Unbelievably hot.” She sighs.

  “What’s he look like? What was he like in bed?” I ask, as only a best friend could.

  She replies, as only a best friend would, “He’s tall, tanned, muscled, tattooed, and holy shit, Edie, he’s got a piercing in his dick!”

  “Omigod,” I say, stunned.

  “Yep, and let me tell you, that piercing is golden. It rubbed spots that have never been rubbed before, in a way I doubt they’ll ever be rubbed again.”

  “Wow,”

  “Yeah, wow.”

  “I’m glad you got some hot, country lovin’,” I smile.

  “Me too,” she giggles.

  Chapter Five

  It’s Friday and we’re on our way to Darwin Airport so Jules can catch her flight back to Sydney. I’m feeling melancholy. I don’t want my best friend to go.

  “Hey, cheer up Charlie, you’ve got a hot date tomorrow night so you shouldn’t be sad.”

  She’s right. I do have a hot date tomorrow night. Last night, Jules had badgered me until I relented and texted Jackson to organize a night for our dinner date. He suggested tonight, I declined because I knew I wouldn’t be much company with Jules just having left. So, I counter-offered Saturday night. He agreed immediately. So, it was all set. He texted me the directions to his house, because I insisted that I would drive. This he was not happy about, but he relented after some persuasion and a promise of a goodnight kiss.

  “I know, I’m just going to miss you. Oh, I have a favor to ask,”

  “You know you can ask me anything,”

  “When you get back to Sydney, can you organize some removalists to take the furniture that’s in my duplex to a storage facility. I’ll ring up first thing Monday morning and secure one, then text you the details. I’m going to ring Dawn as well and ask her to put it on the market for me; it’s no use sitting there unused.”

  “Yeah, I can do that.”

  “Can you also check on Gladys for me - make sure she’s doing okay? Give her my mobile number if you want. I know how she is with technology so you might want to give her the address of The Cow and Calf so she can send me a letter through snail mail.”

  “Will do.” Jules replies. I pull into a park at the Airport and grab my handbag. Pulling a pen and piece of paper out, I quickly jot down the address details of the pub so Jules can pass it on to Gladys.

  We get out and make our way inside so Jules can check herself and her bags in.

  “Have a safe flight and call me when you land,” I sniffle, giving her a tight hug.

  “I will. Have fun and remember what I said about Jackson, honey. No regrets. I’ve got a feeling he’s going to do good things for you – he’s going to bring my best friend back from wherever she’s been hiding. Don’t be scared, Edie.” She whispers the last part.

  “I’ll try. I don’t want to be afraid anymore.” I’m whispering as well.

  “Then open up and let Jackson in,” a lone tear runs downs her cheek.

  “Okay,” I hug her tight once more and then wave until she disappears from my sight. Then I sit in the terminal and watch her plane taxi down the runway and fly out of sight. I dry my cheeks and make my way back to my car and then back to my new home.

  Walking into my cottage I slump down on the lounge in a funk. It’s only four pm, so I decide to fire up my laptop and find a storage company. It doesn’t take me too long to find one, and within half an hour I’ve paid for and organized everything. With time to spare, I decide to call Dawn and tell her about my plans to sell my duplex. As always she’s keen to help and tells me she’ll email me during the week about a time that she can go over and take photos for marketing. When I get off the phone, it depresses me to find it’s only five thirty. I decide to shower, change, then go into the pub and see who’s about. Hopefully a few drinks will put me in a better mood.

  I find Skip sitting alone, nursing a beer at the bar.

  “Hey, Skip. You look about as happy as I feel,” I mutter as I slide onto a stool beside him.

  “Hi, Edie. What’s got you feelin’ so glum?”

  “Jules went home today,” I sigh.

  “Oh, that’s not good, I know you were certainly happy to have her here.”

  “Yeah, I was, but I know she’s got to go back to her life. I can’t expect her stay. That doesn’t mean I don’t wish she could. What about you? What’s up?”

  “Oh nothing much, really. Just one of those days, you know how it is…”

  I nod my head. “I’ll buy you a beer.”

  I order us a round and we sit in silence for a while. Then Skip surprises me by saying, “Jack Henley pulled his finger out of his ass and asked you out yet?”

  I blink. Slowly. I think my eyebrows are touching my hairline. “Pardon?”

  “Jack Henley, he asked you out yet? You know, on a date or whatever you kids call it these days?”

  “Uh, yeah. He’s cooking dinner for me tomorrow night,” I say hesitantly.

  “Good. ‘Bout time. He’ll be good for you. He’s head over heels already, that boy.”

  “Oh Skip, no he’s not,” I scoff.

  “Seen him in here every day, twice a day since you started working here. I may be old but I’m not bloody blind. That boy’s got it bad for you,” he retorts.

  “Well, I’m not so sure about that Skip, what with the other women in his life. I’ve not long come out of a relationship full of lies and cheating. I’m not about to enter another one.”

  “Other women?” He looks genuinely shocked.

  “Dannika for one and god knows how many others,”

  “Dannika’s a nasty piece of work. She was never right for Jackson. It’s his story to tell, so I won’t go too much into it, but I’ll tell you this: If you think Jack is thinking about any other woman, you’re mistaken. You want to know something, the best way to find out the answer is to go directly to the person involved before you go jumping to conclusions and getting the wrong end of the stick.”

  “Good advice, Skip. I think tomorrow night is going to be truth time.”

  ***

  I make a clicking sound with my tongue as I stare at my clothes and contemplate what to wear. It’s Saturday morning and I’m due to be at Jackson’s house in eight hours. I can’t decide what to wear. I could wear some of the clothes I bought when I first arrived in town, but chances are he’s seen everything because I wear it to work and he insists on frequenting the pub during my shifts. Of course, I could wear something out of the clothes I brought with me but they’re too “city.” My only other option is to go shopping. I don’t have enough time to drive to Darwin, shop, drive home, get ready and drive to Jackson’s, so I decide to just go to the local boutique in town where I got my first lot of goodies.

  Two hours later I’ve returned and again spent enough money to keep the girl at the boutique employed for another year. This time I picked up some cute R.M Williams polo shirts, two pairs of Wrangler jeans and a jersey. I also couldn’t resist the three quarter sleeve gingham blouses that were on sale so I bought one of every colour they had – pink, green, purple, blue and red. I decide to wear the pink blouse and a pair of my new Wranglers to Jackson’s tonight.

  I spend the remainder of the afternoon giving myself a mini facial and scrubbing, shaving and exfoliating every inch of my body. I step out of the shower feeling refreshed and
incredibly smooth.

  I dress in my chosen outfit, apply a light covering of makeup (I’m not the kind of girl that wears a lot of makeup) and slide on my cowgirl boots. I take a deep nervous breath and then let it go. Tonight, I’m going to ask Jackson about Dannika – go straight to the source, just like Skip said. I need to know what their situation is because Hell will freeze over before I ever get myself into a situation like that again.

  The directions Jackson gave me are quite self-explanatory.

  Head out Simpsons Road for five kilometers.

  Turn left onto Gallen Road. Follow it to the end and turn right onto Henley Road. At the end there’s a sign saying “Binowee Station”. Take the road straight ahead until you reach the house.

  I find my way easily and reach the Station entrance in about half an hour. I thought the entrance would be a mailbox with a sign that said “Binowee Station”, and maybe a cattle grid, or a rusty old gate that was hanging off its hinges. It’s not like that at all. The sign is massive and declares,

  “Binowee Station.

  The Northern Territory’s premier cattle and cropping station.

  Enquires –

  Jackson Henley

  Jeremy Henley

  Wow. The Northern Territory’s premier cattle and cropping station! I’m impressed. There’s an elaborate, decorative fence surrounded by manicured gardens which leads to a cattle grid. I make my way straight ahead as instructed, noticing that there are dirt roads that veer off both left and right. Not too far down the road Jackson’s house comes into sight. My mouth falls open. House is the wrong word. It’s a homestead. It’s massive. The homestead is a single story wooden building, with a large bull-nose verandah wrapping around what appears to be the entire house. Surrounding the house is a wooden log fence that’s been painted white and manicured gardens and lawns. The real estate agent in me can’t wait to fully explore the house and land. It’s beautiful and immaculately kept on the outside. Not what I expected from Jackson. Being a bachelor, I imagined the typical bachelor pad – overgrown lawns, no flowers, beer cans everywhere – you know the drill.

  A disturbing thought enters my mind. What if Dannika is responsible for the yard work? The thought makes me feel a little uneasy. Ok, a lot uneasy. I push the thoughts aside and make my way up the large wooden front door. The door opens before I have a chance to knock and there stands Jackson, looking … edible. My tummy dips at the sight of him.

  “Hi,” I say all of a sudden shy. I need to pull myself together.

  “Hey, Ace. Welcome to Binowee Station. Come in,” he holds the door open for me and I walk inside. I look around in awe. The inside is as immaculate as the outside. Shiny wooden floors, large open plan living and dining areas, a spacious kitchen.

  “This place is gorgeous, Jackson. Wow.”

  “Yeah. Gorgeous. Wow,” he says. His eyes bore into me and I get the distinct feeling he’s not referring to his home. His words and the way he says them make me blush.

  “C’mon, I’ll give you a tour,” He says taking my hand and leading me around the house. Five bedrooms, an office, two and a half bathrooms, formal dining and living rooms plus the open plan kitchen, dining and lounge make up the house. It’s clean, tidy and airy. I love it!

  “It’s so not what I thought,” I laugh.

  “I bet,” Jackson grins. “Come on, I’ll show you out here,” he says walking towards a door leading outside. Just before we go through, he points to another door, “Cellar is down there.”

  “Wow,” I whisper.

  “What do you think?” He asks, looking around the grounds.

  “Amazing,” I say in reverence. There’s a massive kidney shaped pool, a tennis court and a cabana. I think I’m in shock.

  “What does Binowee mean?” I ask, thinking of the unusual name of their farm.

  “It’s an Aboriginal term meaning green place. The land here is almost always lush and green, so it fits,” he explains.

  How beautiful. And it does fit. Perfectly.

  “Let’s get inside,” he says holding the door open for me.

  “Cooking for an army?” I ask when I take in the enormous amount of food he’s prepared.

  “No, well,” he looks nervous all of a sudden. What the hell is going on? My heart thuds as I immediately think the worst.

  “I told you how I was annoying the shit out of my brother, talking about you all the time. Well, I told him that you finally agreed to have dinner with me. I should have known better. He then made the mistake of telling Oscar. Jeremy really should have known better,” he finishes, shaking his head.

  “Okay, who is Oscar and why should Jeremy have really known better?”

  “Oscar is Jeremy’s son. He’s four and a half. He tells no lies and keeps no secrets – that’s why he should have known better.”

  “Okay, but that doesn’t explain all the food.”

  “When I told Jeremy, Jeremy told Oscar and Oscar decided that he and his father needed to meet you and have dinner with you. He also decided that my parents needed to meet you and have dinner with you. I can’t say no to the kid so they’ll all be here in about half an hour,” he grimaces, but he looks a little excited, happy even.

  “Right,” I whisper. All of a sudden I’m incredibly nervous. I don’t know how to act around four and a half year old boys. I’ve never met a date’s parents. Hell, I never even met Matt’s parents. I guess I know why now, but I never even questioned it when we were together. At first, I just accepted that he wasn’t ready for me to meet them. Then I made excuses for him not wanting me to meet them – maybe he didn’t get along with them. Maybe they were drunken loons. Maybe he was ashamed of them. Maybe he was ashamed of me.

  “Well, they’ll be here soon, so I better get this food cooking. Are you okay with this?” Jackson’s concerned voice pulls me from thoughts.

  “Uh, yeah sure. I’m sure it will be fine,” I give what I hope is a reassuring smile. “What can I do to help?”

  He gives me a relived smile. “First, I’ll get you a drink. Beer? Wine? What would you like?”

  “I’ll have a beer, please,” I reply and then we set about finishing up the preparation of the massive feast.

  Twenty minutes later, the front door bursts open and a mini version of Jackson and Jeremy storms through before skidding to a halt.

  I take a deep breath in the hopes of dissipating my nerves.

  “Oscar, you need to slow down and wait me for me, and I told you on the way over here that Uncle Jack had company so it was important for us to knock, remember?” Jeremy chastises.

  “Uncle Jack. J-A-C-K,” he spells out his uncle’s name.

  “Hey, buddy,” Jackson walks over and ruffles his nephews head affectionately. “I’d like you meet a friend of mine,” he leads Oscar toward me and says, “This is Ace-,”

  “Uh, actually, my name is Edie, Oscar. It’s so good to finally meet you – your uncle has told me so much about you,” I cut Jackson off.

  “Ace. How does Oscar spell Ace, Dad?”

  Jeremy looks uncomfortable for a minute, then he smirks and replies, “A-C-E, mate.”

  “A-C-E, A-C-E, A-C-E,” Oscar chants.

  “Oscar’s name is Oscar. O-S-C-A-R. You like Thomas?” Oscar asks.

  “Um, yeah I gue-,”

  “Thomas is a train. T-H-O-M-A- S.” He runs off singing the Thomas the Tank Engine theme song.

  I look at Jackson and then at Jeremy. “He’s certainly full of energy.”

  “Yeah, Oscar has Autism so don’t take it personally if he gets upset with something you say, or if he cuts you off like he just did. He also has a short attention span – unless it’s something to do with Thomas the Tank Engine, then you can’t get him shut up,” Jeremy explains.

  “Oh, okay,” I’d never known anyone with Autism before, but Oscar was super cute and even though I’d only known him fifteen minutes, I already had a soft spot for him.

  “Gramps. Gramps is here. Gramps is here,” we hear being
yelled from somewhere in the house. Oscar comes tearing down the hallway and throws open the front door. “Gramps. G-R-A-M-P-S.”

  “G’day, buddy. How’s my boy?” Where Oscar is the mini version of the brothers, their father is clearly the older version. The Henley men obviously have strong genes because it’s evident Mrs. Henley and Oscar’s mother didn’t get a look in. Speaking of which, I wonder who and where Oscar’s mum is.

  “Come and see Thomas, Gramps,”

  “In a minute, mate. I think Gramps better go over and meet-,”

  “Uncle Jack got new friend. Ace. A-C-E. Ace tell Oscar she like Thomas. Gramps come watch Thomas with Oscar now?”

  “What about poor old Ma? Doesn’t Ma get a hug from her favorite grandson?” A beautifully put together lady walks in and shakes her head in mock forlornness.

  “Ma!” Oscar yells. “Want to watch Thomas with Oscar?”

  “In a minute, sweetie. You go on ahead and get it started.” Oscar runs off back down the hallway as Mr. and Mrs. Henley make their way over to Jackson, Jeremy and I.

  “Mum, Dad, I’d like you to meet-,”

  “Eden Cross,” I cut Jackson off before he can introduce me to his parents as ‘Ace’.

  I catch his smirk out of the corner of my eye, before I take his parents’ hands in turn and give them a firm shake. “Eden, it’s lovely to finally meet you. I’m Margaret Henley – you can call me Maggie.”

  “Nice to meet you, Eden. I’m Scott.”

  “Please, call me Edie. It’s so lovely to meet you both.”

  With the pleasantries out of the way, we all sit down to the amazing meal Jackson prepared – roasted lamb with potatoes, pumpkin, carrots, beans, peas, corn on the cob and to top it off, there was gravy and mint sauce. It was delicious. Over dinner Maggie and Scott filled us in on their travels. Apparently, they’d just gotten back from travelling down the Great Ocean Road in Victoria and they’d also spent four weeks travelling through Tasmania. From the corner of my eye, I noticed Jackson’s head shoot up when I gush about how I’d love to travel to Tasmania and see Cradle Mountain. Maggie tells me all about their Tasmanian adventure, while the boys talk amongst themselves (about farming, I think), but every now and then, I look up to find Jackson’s eyes trained on me.