by S. E. Babin
As she stuffed piece after piece of cream-laden bun into her mouth and let the sweet sugar and soft, fluffy texture bring the comfort she had hoped it would, Callie’s joy was interrupted by a buzz inside her purse. She reached down, licking her fingers of residue, and plucked the phone from her bag. When she saw who the message was from, she sucked backed some of the powdered sugar and almost choked.
Billy stopped at her booth again and asked if she was okay. Still coughing, she waved him away with a flapping hand.
Seemingly unimpressed with being shooed like a buzzing fly, he went back to the counter and watched as the strange woman ate like a beast and made huffing and groaning noises into her phone. Billy, never one to pass up the opportunity for a bit of fun, headed back over.
‘Can I get you some more bun? Or a cake, we have a large wedding cake that was cancelled today at the last minute.’
Still staring at the message on her phone, Callie again waved him away, agreeing with whatever he had just said so he’d get lost. Without realising it, tears had welled in her eyes. The words in Zack’s message sounded so cold. There was no hint of affection, no care for how she was feeling or doing, just an update of his travels and how many wells he had dug in Africa. She wanted to hate him. She wanted to scream and cry and tell him that he should have put her and their relationship before helping the poor, but even in her own head it sounded awful and selfish. The truth was that Zack was doing something important. He was making a difference in people’s lives and really changing this world, unlike her, sitting in a bakery in Moonta Bay, stuffing herself with cream and bun. Deep down she admired what Zack was doing, but an invitation to go with him would have been nice, even if she wouldn’t have taken it.
She had just hit send on a return message of, I’m happy for you when Billy lumped an oversized wedding cake onto the table in front of her and slotted himself into the booth.
Horrified, Callie stared at him with disbelief. Was he trying to insult her? Hurt her feelings? Sure, she was scoffing cake like she hadn’t eaten in weeks, but that didn’t mean she was hopeless or wanted to devour an entire wedding cake! Or was he trying to send her a message? That this was the only wedding cake she’d ever have in front of her?
Steam all but poured out of her ears. She’d tear strips off of him and put him in his place, the rude, arrogant sod! But instead she burst into tears. Uncontrollable tears that led to Billy turning red and making a dash for a box of tissues.
With closing time approaching, the store was now almost empty. Billy sat back in the booth and stared at the sobbing woman. ‘I guess I should apologise. I thought it was pretty funny though, didn’t you? I had no idea you’d start bawling.’
Callie blew her nose and blotted at her now-swollen eyes. She eyed him with disapproval, still a tad annoyed. ‘For the record, I wasn’t ‘bawling’ as you put it, because of you. It was something else entirely.’
Billy seemed to like the fact that she wanted him to know that he didn’t upset her. ‘So what was it then? Idiot boyfriend dump you?’
‘Just get me a fork at least,’ she said, ‘this cake won’t eat itself.’
Billy returned with two forks and a couple of soft drinks. Without thinking at all, Callie spent the next two hours pouring her heart out to the stranger who had insulted her and in return, she listened to Billy’s story about the long road it had taken to fulfilling his dream of opening a small town bakery. By the time they finished, half the cake was gone, they’d gotten through two cokes and three coffees and Callie was sure she’d need a forklift to extract her from the booth and take her home.
‘Thanks for listening,’ she said, squeezing from the booth.
‘Anytime, there’s plenty of sugar here, whenever you need it.’
Callie smiled and headed out to the Ute. She wound down the windows and released the button on her pants, vowing to only eat salad from now on and spend the night in front of the telly doing squats with a box set of Sex and the City. When she pulled into the driveway, however, those plans shattered into a million pieces and so did she. A black truck with the words ‘O’Reilly Farm’ on the side was blocking her.
Her heart pounding in her chest, she pulled off the gravel drive onto the grass and around to the side of the house. She’d climbed through her bedroom window a thousand times in her teens. It was easy, and there was no way in hell she was going in that front door to face Hamish looking like she’d been dragged through a paddock by the back of her pants.
Closing the Ute door as quietly as possible, she made it to the bedroom window and slowly lifted it. When it slid up easily, she gave herself an invisible high-five. Hooking one leg over the window sill, she hoisted herself through sideways and plonked backwards onto her bedroom floor … right at Hamish O’Reilly’s size twelve leather boots.
Her mother’s gasp was really quite measured, given the situation and Callie appreciated her not recoiling in tears.
‘Callie?’
Hamish’s voice was deeper than she remembered, but just as caramelly smooth. He held out his hand and helped her to her feet.
For a brief moment, she thought there was some possibility of redeeming herself and making a reasonable impression, but as her mother moved in beside her and began pulling the cobwebs from her hair, she decided there was little point.
‘Hi Hamish. Lovely to see you. I’d love to stay and chat, but given my entrance and the state of me, I think I better dash to the shower.’
Hamish looked more concerned than amused. He’d always been the more serious type. ‘Wait, I think you’ve hurt yourself.’ He reached forward and touched Callie’s cheek.
In spite of the fact that her mother was still picking at her, the spark of Hamish’s touch sent tiny shock waves through every inch of her. Instinctively, Callie reached up to feel her face for injury, but realised, at the same time as Hamish, that it was in fact jam that was smeared across her cheek, as well as some icing sugar remnants. He smiled and in true gentlemanly fashion, stepped aside for Callie to pass.
Without further word from any of them, Callie disappeared into the hallway and then the bathroom. She remained there until enough of her humiliation had washed away. It was at least two hours and then some.
* * *
‘Well you certainly made an impression,’ Marjory said when Callie planted herself at the kitchen table.
‘Why was he even here? You could have told me or warned me or something.’ She knew that what she was saying was unfair before it even left her lips.
‘Callie, honey, I love you, but honestly. Climbing in the window? Weren’t you done with stuff like that in your teens? And Hamish was here because he had offered to give me a heap of leftover paint he had from when he re-decorated the farm house last year. I ran into him a few weeks ago and we got to talking and he mentioned it. As much as you’d like it to, the whole world does not revolve around you.’
This was one of her mother’s go-to phrases when she wanted one of them to feel like they were being ridiculous or selfish. It always worked a treat, especially on Darcy.
‘Yes, okay, fine, but it would have been nice to see Hamish for the first time under better circumstances, like perhaps when I wasn’t falling in a window, covered in filth and with jam and sugar all over my face.’
Marjory giggled, but caught herself when Callie glared. ‘Well, you will get the chance. I’ve asked him to the Christmas Eve party. And if you’re serious about making an impression, you’ll have no better opportunity.’ She shot her daughter a sly look.
‘What are you planning, Mum? Do not do anything embarrassing, I’m warning you.’
Marjory held up her hands in defence. ‘Just a little mistletoe here and there, in case anyone feels the mood to take advantage of them.’
Callie grabbed a carrot from the pile her mother was peeling in the hope of countering some of the sugar she had ingested earlier. She could still feel it all swirling around in her stomach.
Mistletoe? Maybe. She wasn’t s
ure that she even wanted to get caught under a piece of mistletoe with Hamish. He was the past, and somewhat of a painful past. Was it ever wise to go backwards? But why did he have to be so damn handsome?
Callie went back to her room and stared at the picture of the two of them. She remembered the look on Hamish’s face when she told him she was taking the job in Sydney. Even now that memory had the power to buckle her legs and tighten her stomach. No, as much as he was absolutely gorgeous and smelled amazing, boy had he smelled amazing, Hamish O’Reilly was her past and re-inventing and re-establishing herself as the powerful and independent lawyer, who didn’t need a man in her life, was her future. Regardless of what her mother thought, the mistletoe would have to be for someone else. Unless, of course, Hamish made the first move, then she couldn’t possibly be held accountable. She’d just have to kiss him back. That was a given.
4
‘I’ve got nothing to wear! All of my really good stuff is in storage back in Sydney,’ Callie grumbled.
‘Well why don’t you just get it sent back here? We can get it all set up in the spare room, or the shed.
Callie imagined all of her designer corporate suits and one-of-a-kind dresses hanging out in the shed while Cam tinkered with his HQ Statesman and revved the engine continuously without even opening a window.
‘I need to leave it there for now. I’ve paid it up for 6 months.’
Callie hated lying to her mum, but the truth would upset her and there was enough drama going on with this party to add anymore right now. The truth was that she didn’t want to have it sent. Having it sent would mean that she had given up on the dream of returning to Sydney, and she definitely had not.
‘We could go and have another look around if you like,’ Marjory suggested.
Not one shop in all of the Copper Coast had something decent. They had already checked out every single one except for the frock salon, Joylene, which would have been perfect if she was eighty and sporting a blue rinse. No, if she was going to make an impression on Hamish, which she wasn’t really trying to, but if it happened in the process of looking amazing, it would obviously be a bonus. She’d have to find something fabulous.
Giving up on the hopeless fashion situation for now, she grabbed her keys. ‘I’m heading over to Mel’s mum’s house to see if I can catch up with her.’
She pulled into Mel’s mother’s driveway, just as her friend was getting in the car.
‘Callie, my gosh, what are you doing here?’ Mel squealed, rushing to the car door to give her a hug. ‘I can’t believe it. I’m so glad to see you.’
Mel’s eyes had welled. Callie pulled her best friend in tight. ‘I’ve missed you too. Why haven’t we talked? It feels like forever.’
‘Let me look at you. You look fantastic.’ Mel said, pushing Callie back to arm’s length to take in her navy pencil skirt, fitted blouse and Jimmy Choo heels.
‘I’m kind of overdressed for Moonta Bay, I know. Mum thinks I look ridiculous, but I refuse to wear a velour tracksuit.’
Mel laughed, ‘well I think you look gorgeous.’ A loud banging sound came from the inside of Mel’s car. ‘Sorry, Hun, I’m just taking Dally to cricket, he’s six now. Can you believe it?’
Callie went over to the car window to peer in. Looking back at her were two sets of eyes. ‘Have you got two? I had no idea.’
‘Yep, that’s Georgia, she’s two and a half. And a total handful. Look I really want to catch up, but I have to take off. Can we make a time? When are you free?’
‘Come to a Christmas Eve party at my parent’s house. It’ll be fun and we can catch up properly.’
Mel looked worried. ‘Will Cam be there?’
Callie had hoped that the awkwardness after her brother and Mel had dated in high school – and broken up quite publicly, might have worn off by now. ‘Yes, Cam will be there, but I promise, he’ll be outside with his mates all night and nowhere near us.’
Mel hopped in the car and reached out her hand to squeeze Callie’s. ‘Definitely, I’d love to. I’ll have these two rug rats though.’
‘The more the merrier.’
‘Have you seen Hamish?’ Mel asked with a hint of cheekiness to her tone.
The question caught Callie totally off guard. She shifted on her feet and felt her cheeks burning red.
‘I’ll take that as a yes!’ Mel called from the window as the car disappeared down the driveway and out onto the road in a cloud of dust. ‘Love ya, miss ya,’
Suddenly, being stuck in Moonta Bay was feeling a whole lot more bearable. Unfortunately, the happy feelings led Callie straight back to Billy’s Bakery for another sugar fix celebration. Knowing that Mel was back home too was definitely worth the extra weight.
Callie pulled into the same parking spot at Billy’s and even managed to snag the same booth. She picked up a menu and browsed the options, sure that Billy had already seen her and simply not bothered to even say hello. In a small town it was rude not to acknowledge your customers, especially ones you had spent two hours with, baring your whole life story.
Billy, who was busily preparing delicious croissants from scratch, watched her enter, dressed as if she was on her way to the opera, and slot into the same spot without even glancing at him. He noted her deliberate effort not to acknowledge him and made his way over.
‘Afternoon, what can I get for you today, darlin’?’ He put extra emphasis on the darlin’ part, given how much calling her ‘honey’ had razzed her up last time.
Callie put down the menu and cleared her throat. ‘Well, sweet cheeks, how ‘bout you shake those buns right on over to your kitchen counter and rustle me up a sweet old chocolate croissant and a latte. Skinny, thanks.’
Billy smirked, seemingly pleased that rather than being irritated, she had chosen to play the game. He spun around, headed to his counter, wiggling his hips appropriately, and returned with the desired items.
‘Not sure that I really achieved the bun shaking, but I did come through with the goods,’ he said placing them in front of her. ‘I was about to have a coffee break. Can I join you?’
Callie shrugged, already mouth deep into the soft, chocolatey croissant by the time Billy returned with a short black and a small plate of continental cakes. ‘You like your sweets, don’t you?’
Callie laughed, covering her mouth when a piece of the flaky pastry flew out. ‘To be honest, I think I’ve been restricting myself and squeezing into tiny designer business suits for so long that coming home has just given me some much needed freedom, however, this can’t go on.’ She said the last part while shoving the remaining piece into her mouth. ‘I think I’ve already gained two kilos.
Billy grinned. ‘Men love a woman with a bit of meat, I know I do. Anyway, when you’re heavier you’re much harder to abduct.’
Callie tilted her head as if that would somehow make what he said any easier to process. Was he saying she should gain weight so no one could steal her off the street?
Realising her confusion he added, ‘I just mean that women are all beautiful in their own way, so why worry? You only live once.’
Callie shrugged. He had a point. ‘Yes, but when you’re trying to make an impression, you also don’t want to have rolls flowing over your clothing because everything you own is now too tight and looks like one of your muffins over there.’
‘Oh, so that’s how it is?’
Again, she had no idea what he was talking about.
‘I didn’t realise that you were trying to make an impression. For the record, you can stop trying because I think you look fabulous,’ he teased.
‘Not you, you meat head. Someone else. An old boyfriend actually.’
Somehow, Callie again ended up confiding in Billy the Baker about her history with Hamish and how she had left him in absolute tatters. And, how she sort-of wanted to make an impression, but wasn’t really sure there was any point because really, she was going to go back to Sydney anyway.
When she was finished, Billy got up wit
hout a word.
‘Well, aren’t you going to say anything?’ Callie asked, stunned by his complete silence. ‘I pour my heart out to you and you just walk off?’
‘To be honest, I kinda thought it was one of those one-way conversations. Where you just wanted to unload, but didn’t really want to hear any other opinions.’
Callie stared at him in utter confusion. Why was this baker so complex? Was he right? Maybe she did just want to unload without hearing what he really thought about it. Did he have thoughts about it?
‘Well, I thought you might at least tell me what you think,’ she said, trying to sound as if she didn’t particularly care either way.
Billy slotted back into the booth opposite her. ‘Okay, I’ll tell you what I think. But only if you promise not to get mad.’
Callie gave him a questioning look. ‘Why would I get mad?’
‘In my experience,’ Billy explained, folding his arms as if what he was about to say might bring him some heat. ‘Women tend to tell you about an issue, wait for an answer and then get angry at you for that answer. So, now I tend to just listen and keep my opinions to myself unless specifically asked to share them.’
He definitely had Callie’s interest. ‘Go on,’ she pushed.
‘From what I can see, you’ve come back to this town begrudgingly and somewhat with your tail between your legs. However,’ he paused on the however part before continuing. ‘Coming back home has allowed you the opportunity to heal some old wounds and some fractured relationships and I think now that you’re here you’re realising that maybe it’s nowhere near as bad as your younger self made it out to be.’
Callie sipped her coffee and mulled over what he had said. There was actually some truth to it. ‘Yes, but what about Hamish, oh Guru, what do you think about that?’
Billy smiled. ‘What I think is that he was never the right man for you because if he was, you wouldn’t have left him. Love is funny like that. If it’s real and forever, you just know and nothing or no one gets in the way. Simple as that.’