Hannah looked at the plates too. ‘I’ll help you clean up, I’m in no rush to get out there into that weather. And my chooks can wait a while longer as I don’t fancy heading out into the wet paddock in my gumboots and raincoat just yet either.’
He chuckled, imagining her in that outfit, bright yellow raincoat, oversized gumboots leaving huge muddy footprints. ‘Okay then, let’s get to it.’
They made their way back to the kitchen and rinsed the plates, then Luca filled up the sink with detergent. There wasn’t enough to bother putting on the dishwasher, and he didn’t want to rush the process of her going home.
‘Nothing like a good handwash sometimes,’ she said. ‘It’s kind of therapeutic.’
‘For the dishes or for you?’
‘For me, of course. Though I’m sure the dishes appreciate the extra pampering.’ She smiled with an amused shake of her head.
‘Everything done by hand is always best,’ he said, and was reminded of the delicate handiwork his mother did on her dresses. ‘Oh,’ he got out his phone, ‘I was going to show you the photos of my mother’s wedding dresses, the ones I’m keeping.’
She leaned in. ‘Oh yes, please do.’
He opened his camera roll and the family category, then pressed on one of the dresses, the one he’d taken off the mannequin.
‘That is absolutely beautiful,’ Hannah said, her eyes scanning all over it.
He zoomed in to the details. ‘See the embroidery and beading over the bodice... all done by hand.’ He scrolled down. ‘And on the hem too.’
‘Wow. Truly amazing.’
He smiled and flicked through to the others, receiving the same amount of praise.
‘What a talented lady,’ she said. ‘Honestly, I bet she made lots of women extremely happy.’
‘And their husbands,’ he chuckled.
‘I bet. It’s so great that you’re keeping these, I’m sure she would appreciate that.’
‘Yeah. It’s really comforting sometimes, to know that her hands touched this very fabric, that her eyes focused on each minute detail with so much passion and dedication.’ He cleared his throat and rubbed at his jaw, though his hands weakened and trembled a little.
She gently touched his arm. ‘It is. It really is.’
When she’d finished having a good look, he quickly put the phone on the kitchen counter, next to the drying rack. ‘Anyway, you wash, I’ll rinse and dry.’ Luca handed her the dishwashing brush.
Mesmerised, he watched her circling the plate with the brush, spreading the lemon-scented bubbles over it and removing the remains of their dinner. It was therapeutic, hypnotic. Gently, she handed the plate to him and he rinsed it, then wiped a tea towel over both sides and positioned it on the drying rack while she began washing the next one.
They worked silently, slowly, peacefully, and with a subtle sense of anticipation of something yet to come, or something not quite... addressed, as yet. The handing over of each plate, glass, or piece of cutlery was accompanied with a soft smile, and one from him in return.
She scratched her cheek and a small blob of bubbles remained.
Luca reached over with the tea towel and wiped it off. She flinched a little.
‘Sorry, you had a bit of...’
‘Oh. Thanks.’ She lifted her forearm to dab it as if his wiping hadn’t removed it, but it only added more.
He chuckled. ‘Hang on,’ he said. He dabbed at her cheek with the tea towel again, his eyes captivated by the dewy sheen on her rounded cheeks. When he placed the tea towel back down and looked up, she was still looking at him.
Something rumbled in his belly. And it wasn’t his dinner. A warmth spread throughout his torso and he lifted his hand back up to her cheek, this time without the tea towel. He glided his thumb across her cheek, so slowly, as if stopping the gesture would end the heightened feeling of connection of the moment.
No words would form. He could only touch. Feel. Breathe.
The dishwashing brush fell into the soapy water with a light splash, but her gaze didn’t budge from his. His awareness fell to her upper chest, rising more sharply, more quickly than before. Like it had been after her run, only... different.
His did the same.
And then both hands were on her cheeks, their soft warmth spreading down his arms right to his core. In a matter of milliseconds their faces were an inch from each other, and he breathed her in as she did him, his lips unable to avoid hers... he pressed them onto her, then gathered her bottom lip between his lips and her hands met with the back of his shoulders, one climbing slowly to tangle sensually in the back of his hair, the other putting firm pressure on his back to pull him closer and closer.
The rumbling inside built to an intense rush of pleasure, a need, where everything else disappeared from his awareness and she was the only part of his world.
As the kiss intensified along with the sensations, his arms wanted to lift her, to gather her up... and so they did; with one swift manoeuvre he propped her up onto the counter and her legs slid firmly around his thighs, but his phone toppled to the floor.
He broke away for a moment. ‘Oops,’ he said, bending to retrieve it from the floor, luckily unbroken thanks to his protective cover. He placed it next to her on the counter, then looked back up at her... her eyes baring her soul and her lips parted and pink.
He smiled and moved in towards her again, but his phone chimed and he glanced towards it. So did she.
It took a second to recognise the sound, and then another one chimed. It was a Tinder notification.
Oh my God, of all the times...
A woman called Madeline had sent him a message. Two by the looks of it.
It chimed again.
Make that three.
‘I’ll turn this off,’ he said, putting his phone on silent, but when he brought his hand back to her cheek, she removed it and slid off the counter top back to standing.
‘Hannah,’ his hand sought hers.
‘Luca,’ she breathed. ‘Whoa. I think I should get going.’
‘Hannah, wait.’ He reached his arm forwards but she was walking towards the kitchen entrance. ‘You still have your apron on,’ was all he could manage to get out.
She stopped and turned, lifted it off over her head and placed it on the rack. ‘Luca, we can’t complicate things. We only have two weeks left, and this is a bad idea.’
It had felt like a damn good idea to him.
‘It doesn’t have to be complicated,’ he replied.
‘Exactly,’ she said with a sigh. ‘You don’t want what I want, and you have to focus on your new business right now, and me with my move. I can’t deal with these emotions right now.’
‘How do you know what I do or don’t want?’ He crossed his arms.
She shrugged. ‘I know you. And...’ she gestured to his phone.
‘What... Tinder?’ he turned briefly away and shook his head. ‘Bloody Stefan. My brother signed me up for it, I haven’t even been using it.’
‘Doesn’t look that way.’
‘It’s some random message from some woman I don’t know. I don’t even want to use the stupid app.’
‘Then why didn’t you just uninstall it?’
He shrugged. ‘I dunno, didn’t get around to it. Busy opening a restaurant. Anyway, this has nothing to do with what just happened between us. What’s been happening between us.’
‘What’s happening is that we’ve had lots of catching up to do, and we’re in close proximity because we’re working together, so it’s natural for some feelings of closeness to arise. That’s all.’
‘It’s more than that and you know it.’
‘Do I? You’ve never talked about it. You’ve never mentioned it.’ She placed one hand on her hip with a huff.
‘You didn’t seem to want to.’ He walked up to her and grasped her arms gently. ‘Look... I know it’s a strange feeling, reuniting after all these years, but I like you. I really do. Always have.’
‘Yo
u liked everyone, Luca, but never me.’
‘What are you talking about?’ His eyebrows drew together and an ache spread across his forehead. ‘Anyway, I don’t know what’s happening but I know it feels good. I’d like to just go with it... enjoy it.’
‘I have a lot to handle right now, as do you. I can’t do uncertainty, Luca.’ She went into the restaurant, towards the door.
‘Then let’s talk about it some more, open up, see how we feel.’
She turned for a moment and looked at him, and all he could see was her innocent teenage eyes staring back at him. ‘You’re twenty years too late, sorry.’ She picked up her shoulder bag and he watched her leave the building.
Chapter 23
‘You sure everything’s okay, love?’ Doug Delaney eyed his daughter with curious concern as he was about to farewell her at the market stall and go for a wander.
‘Yes, all good. It’s just been a busy six weeks and the launch is in five days. Sorry if I seem a bit preoccupied.’
‘As long as you’re okay.’
‘Yep!’ She probably said it with too much enthusiasm.
Her mother hitched her handbag on her shoulder. ‘Can’t wait for the evening, I’m really looking forwards to sampling Luca’s food in the environment for which it was intended to be enjoyed.’ She smiled. ‘He’s been so kind, to give us all his samples. I’ve barely had to cook.’
‘I know, he’s fed me well too,’ Hannah replied.
And given me a taste test of something else...
‘Can we get you something to eat or drink while we’re here?’ her mum asked.
‘Actually,’ Hannah eyed the portable coffee stand. ‘I’d love a mocha, but would you mind manning the stall for me while I go get one? I wouldn’t mind a few minutes to walk around and have a break, and I wanted to pick something up too.’
Kathleen Delaney was behind the stall in a flash. ‘Thought you’d never ask! I miss doing this, don’t you too, Doug?’
‘It does bring back memories,’ he said, glancing around the markets. ‘Rightio, anything new we need to know?’
‘No, but do you remember how to use the card machine thingy, in case they don’t have cash?’
‘Just hold it out to them and they scan their card, right?’
‘Yes, but you need to type in the cost first.’ She gave him a quick demo.
‘Ah, got it. Okay love, off you go. No hurry.’
She smiled a thank you and took off towards the coffee stand.
‘Good thing that rain held off,’ the barista said as he made her coffee.
She nodded. ‘It’s been a wet week and a half.’
‘Got some helpers, I see.’ He gestured to her stall.
‘My parents. They haven’t done the markets for ages. Today is my last day, actually.’
‘Oh?’
‘Moving to Sydney, so I need the next couple of weeks to get organised, and then hopefully the person taking over my farm will take over the markets too.’
The person... it felt so weird to talk about him like that. But every mention of his name brought back the butterfly sensation from his kisses, followed by the uncomfortable but necessary resolve she’d made and tried hard to stick to so she could get through the next few weeks.
‘I’ll keep an eye out and make sure the person you speak of does it justice.’ He winked, and handed her the mocha.
‘Thanks.’ She took the coffee and walked the long way around the stalls, having a look at the other produce on offer. There were a few other types of stalls scattered among the food. She waved at Maria in her running gear who was behind the handmade baby-clothing stall, and pretended to look carefully at some homewares to avoid going over and facing the fluffy knitted things and feeling that sense of loss-in-advance again, should her time never come.
But then she did a double take at something on the corner of the display table. A collection of small, painted rocks. She wouldn’t have really taken any notice of them, colourful rocks with words like ‘love’ and ‘peace’ and ‘happiness’ painted on them, except that one said ‘home’.
She picked up the slightly oval-shaped rock. It was cool on her skin and seemed to mould to the shape of her palm, nestling in comfortably as though it was a baby and her hand was the cradle.
‘They’re lovely, aren’t they?’ the older woman behind the stall said. ‘My daughter paints them.’ She gestured to the rosy-cheeked younger woman also behind the stall.
‘Oh, really? They’re lovely.’ Hannah picked up another couple, but she was only interested in one.
‘Fifteen dollars each or two for twenty,’ the older woman said.
A metaphorical light bulb lit up in Hannah’s mind. She opened her purse and unfolded the twenty-dollar note she’d tucked securely behind her reward-card collection. ‘I’ll just have this one, thanks.’ She paid for the ‘home’ rock and received it in a paper bag stamped with the stall’s logo. That left her with five dollars to buy something else different. Although the rock was for ‘the person’, so perhaps she should buy something else for him to go with it, since he didn’t really have to go and pay her the bet money anyway, but had insisted. She had a few days to find something, if she wanted to get it all out of the way before the launch. Or she could keep the change and say the rock had cost twenty. But she never lied. Even small, white lies. She sometimes blurred the truth, like when she’d told her father everything was all good, but never an actual lie. Because everything was all good, it was just that there was also the slight matter of having feelings for someone even after twenty years, but timing once again sucking big-time. She had decided to take control over the timing of her life, starting with the move. Her decision, her plan, her timing.
She walked with renewed clarity, sipping her mocha, holding her purchase, and taking in the atmosphere one last time.
She gave one more glance at the baby-clothing stall and did another double take. She noticed something she used to love as a kid.
She couldn’t help but wander over.
‘Hi Maria, you’re looking great.’ She smiled.
‘Aw, thanks, hun. Lost about eight kilos so far.’
‘Pretty soon you might fit into some of these,’ Hannah joked, pointing to the tiny baby clothes.
Maria laughed. ‘Knitted adult clothes... hmm, maybe a new business idea for me.’
Hannah felt the need to keep the mood light, hence her joke. ‘You never know.’
She picked up one of the plastic tubs of Play-Doh, only it wasn’t branded, it was called Fun-Dough. ‘Do you make this?’
Maria nodded. ‘Saves a lot of time for the parents, and those store-bought ones are getting a bit pricey, so I figured a little side income for me, since most of my customers have older children too.’
‘I used to love it. Mum used to make it too.’
‘Easy to do, but mine all have natural food-grade dyes in them, so if the little ones happen to eat them... you don’t have to worry.’ Maria smiled. ‘Hang on, something you’re not telling me?’ She eyed Hannah’s stomach.
Hannah’s hand flew instinctively to her stomach. ‘Oh, God, no. Not at all.’ She put the tub down. ‘Just getting nostalgic with my upcoming move.’
‘Of course, hun. We’ll miss you here.’
‘Thanks. And lucky we have Facebook, huh?’
‘Honestly don’t know what I’d do without it. Keeps me sane. Love knowing my worldwide friends are there to chat to at the touch of a button.’
She nodded, and picked up the sample piece of dough. As it formed shapes in her hand, she was reminded of what she’d told Luc—the person—about shaping life into what you wanted it to be, like a piece of clay. ‘How much for these?’
‘Small tubs are two dollars, large are five.’
Hannah smiled at the exactness. ‘I’ll take the large one. For a gift.’
‘Wonderful! I hope the lucky little one will love it.’
‘Oh, I’m sure he will.’ She held back a chuckle.
&nbs
p; A rock, and some Fun-Dough. Not a purchase she ever thought she’d be making, especially as a sort-of gift. Sort-of, because technically he had paid for it. And hopefully it would help clear the air a little after the tense past week and a half, which could only help the launch go more smoothly.
She finished her mocha and popped it into a bin, then returned to her parents where she put her purchases into her backpack underneath the table.
‘Thirty-six dollars so far, all paid with the little scanning thingy,’ her dad said proudly.
‘Nice work.’ She gave a nod.
‘And it’s been nice chatting to a few people,’ her mother said. ‘We’re happy to stay longer, you know. If you want us to.’ Her mum put a warm hand on Hannah’s arm, and even though it was her last day and part of her wanted to say no so she could just do her thing one last time, most of her wanted to say yes, to being lucky enough to have her parents living and breathing and standing right beside her, supporting her as she tied up one more loose end of her life in Tarrin’s Bay.
‘Yes,’ she said with a smile, though her chin quivered and two tiny tears formed in the corner of her eyes. ‘I would love that, Mum.’
***
The next day, after confirming the launch details with a photographer and journalist from the local newspaper who would be in attendance on the night, and scheduling a few social media posts to generate marketing buzz and encourage reservations for the following week and beyond, Hannah opened the door to Home with a confident push.
Luca and one of the chefs were chatting, and their conversation grew louder as they both exited the kitchen.
‘No sleeping on the job, okay, I got it,’ the chef said, as he pretended to sleepwalk.
‘Look at him, will you?’ Luca said to Hannah with a chuckle. ‘Barely even started the new job and he’s already got one over me in the joke department.’
‘Oh?’ She raised her eyebrows, clearly having missed something.
‘Don’t worry.’ He flicked his hand. ‘Just a joke about being overworked and working while asleep. Anyway, you had to be there.’
Yet another case of bad timing.
‘Okaaay.’ She waved off the chef awkwardly as he (sleep) walked out the door with a grin on his face.
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