by S. E. Babin
‘I left because I wanted more and I had dreams and aspirations. I couldn’t force Hamish to come to Sydney. He would have hated it.’
‘Like I said, he was never the right man. For the right man you would have stayed and for the right woman a man would have considered leaving. Neither of you did that.’
‘That’s not fair! I thought Hamish was the right man. Maybe he is the right man, but surely I shouldn’t have to give up my dreams just to make love work, should I? What an outdated and old-fashioned way of thinking. Honestly, you can’t be serious.’
Billy got up and went back to the counter leaving Callie to her annoyance.
‘Like I said,’ he called from behind the coffee machine, ‘you asked for my opinion and I gave it. Don’t go getting all sooky about it now.’
‘Sooky? I’ll give you sooky, Billy the ….Bakery, Baker!’
Billy stopped and stared at Callie, his grin wide. ‘Is that really the best you can do?’
Callie huffed and tried to quickly come up with a better return, but Billy beat her to the punch.
‘Honey, I’d love for you to sit here daydreaming about Hamish the farmer all day, but some of us have to work and I’ve got a big order to fill for Christmas,’ he said, ignoring the fact that she was gearing up for an argument.
‘Well, that suits me fine, because I was just leaving. And anyway, that coffee tasted burnt!’
Callie stomped to the door and attempted to slam it, but the rubber stopper brought it to a soft close with barely a sound. ‘Argh! For goodness sake!’
Billy watched with amusement as she stormed across the street, her legs barely able to make stride in the tight skirt, and tear off in the Ute.
He liked this girl. She had a fire that couldn’t be extinguished, even if at times it did produce a raging tantrum. This girl was interesting.
5
Christmas Eve was upon them. It was stinking hot by 12 pm and a buzz of excitement had completely filled the Ashton house. It had been years since Marjory had thrown any kind of party, other than the wake for Uncle Dave four years ago that had ended with Dad getting paralytic drunk and singing verse after torturous verse of ‘I Did it My Way,’ by Frank Sinatra.
Callie checked that the mistletoe, five separate bunches, were all hung in strategic and convenient positions throughout the house and outside verandah. Not that she had decided she would kiss Hamish or anything, but just in case the mood took her – or him.
The entire setup looked pretty amazing. Cam and Darcy had done a brilliant job of bringing the garden area to life with wine barrels to use as bars, hay bales spread all across the garden for seating and dozens of solar lamps to light up the area as well as string light bulbs that ran from the edge of the house across to the shed and back. It actually looked beautiful.
Inside, Callie and Marjory had gotten a little over-excited with the decoration. The house now resembled a tinsel wonderland. They didn’t quite have the artistic flair that Cam did in oganising things, but at least it was festive.
‘What needs to be chopped and prepared, Mum?’ Callie asked, expecting a full afternoon of food prep.
‘I know I said I’d do some cooking, but to be honest, darling, it was just easier to order in. It’s all getting delivered at 5:30 pm, nice and hot and ready to eat. The main things we need are the plates, cutlery and glasses to be set up and to make sure we have plenty of ice for the drinks later.’
Callie stood back and eyed her mother. Who was this relaxed woman and where was the usual frantic mess that would unfold in the lead up to any event? Callie’s Communion party had almost put her mother in the hospital.
‘Yes,’ Marjory laughed, ’I know I’m usually a mess, but this time I decided to just outsource everything and give myself a break.’
Callie went over to her mother and gave her a hug. ‘I’m going to head into town and get a few extra bottles of soft drink and alcohol. God knows how many stragglers Cam’s invited.’ She squeezed her mother again. ‘And I’m proud of you. Go put your feet up for a while.’
When Callie returned, armed with dozens of extra drinks and chips, as well as the plates and plastic cutlery, it was already 4:30 pm.
‘Crap, I wanted to be ready early so that I could start handing some of the food around when people arrive,’ she said to her mum. ‘I’ll jump in the tub now.’
Marjory, who was setting up bowls of nuts and laying Christmas crackers anywhere and everywhere, nodded her agreement and set about running some extra tinsel she had found around the doorway of the kitchen, while Cam and Darcy set up the old ping pong table outside.
When Callie emerged from the tub almost an hour later, with a towel around her head and green goo she’d bought from a herbal shop in Sydney smeared all over her face, she smacked head on into Billy.
‘What the hell are you doing here?’ she demanded in a tone that was less than friendly.
Billy held up the tray of goods he was holding. ‘Um, delivering all the food for the party.’
‘Oh, right. Well, I didn’t know Mum had ordered all the stuff from you.’ Callie, reminded of the goo by Billy’s obvious repulsion, ripped the towel from her head and wiped it off.
Marjory appeared in the hall. ‘Billy, this is my daughter, Callie,’ she said, placing her hand on his shoulder. She leaned in to Callie as if Billy shouldn’t hear what she was about to say. ‘Billy’s a godsend, Callie. You just wait until you taste his chocolate croissants. You’ll die.’
From behind Marjory Billy jiggled one eyebrow up and down at Callie and gave a sly smirk. ‘Where shall I put this Mrs. A? Kitchen bench okay for now?’
Marjory giggled ridiculously, as if what he had said was completely hilarious, which brought about another smirk from Billy, cast in Callie’s direction.
When her dad came in the door and joined the chorus singing Billy’s praise, Callie stomped off to her room to dress. Even from behind the closed door she could hear her father’s groans of pleasure as he sampled something from every tray.
‘You will be back Billy? 6:30 sharp, remember,’ Marjorie crooned.
‘Oh I’ll be back Mrs. A, I wouldn’t miss it for anything.’
Callie’s face burned. She knew, even though she couldn’t see him, that he had turned toward her door as he said that. This guy was really starting to get under her skin. How dare he be so smug? And in her own parent’s house! No, there would be no more stops at the bakery. Billy was officially off of her Christmas card list.
* * *
Callie emerged from her bedroom like a butterfly from its cocoon. She had managed to put together something decent from the mix of items she’d brought with her.
‘You look stunning, sweetie,’ her mother gleamed, ‘it’s amazing what a pricey outfit and good make-up can do.’
Callie’s moment of elation deflated as quickly as it had risen. ‘Thanks, Mum. I think.’
‘C’mon,’ Marjory said, grabbing her arm. ‘Help me get the ice buckets ready outside.’
Cam and Darcy were already engaged in a ping pong battle of epic proportions. There was a one-hundred-dollar bill on the line and where money was involved, Cam would sell his own offspring to be victorious. As they jostled and ribbed each other, Callie sunk cans of beer and soft-drink deep into the freezing cold ice. She left her hands in there for a few seconds to cool, already feeling her make-up starting to run off of her face.
‘Merry Christmas!’ The familiar and welcome voice came from the side of the house.
‘Mel, you’re here! Yay!’ Callie squealed, running to give her a hug.
Behind her it seemed from the cheers that Cam had been momentarily distracted by Mel’s arrival, giving Darcy the opportunity to win the point, and the game.
Callie dragged Mel inside while Marjory continued fussing with the drinks, cups and cutlery. ‘You’re solo. Where are the kids?’
‘My aunty came over and insisted that I go out and have some fun for a few hours. Everyone is sure I’m on the verge of a brea
kdown.’
She said it with humour, but Callie could tell there was some truth in her words. ‘Are you?’ Tell me everything,’ Callie insisted, handing Mel a glass and filling it with bubbly champagne. ‘I feel like I’ve missed everything.’
Mel took a large mouthful and seemed to need a moment. She perched on the kitchen stool and tears filled her bright blue eyes.
‘Oh Mel, I’m sorry,’ Callie said, putting an arm around her. ‘Are you okay? It was insensitive of me to ask like that. I’m just so glad to see you.’
Mel dabbed at her eyes with a napkin. ‘It’s okay, Hun, it’s just all been so hard, you know? That stinking sod of a husband of mine was screwing anything that moved, and I had no idea.’ She paused for a moment and seemed to be weighing something up. ‘Actually, that’s a cop-out. I knew he was cheating and I turned a blind eye. That sounds awful I know, but honestly Callie, if I was really honest, I knew from the day I married him that I’d made a mistake.’
Callie was stunned into an uncharacteristic silence. Eventually she managed to find some words. ‘Really? You knew even then?’
‘I knew,’ Mel admitted, swallowing another large mouthful, ‘I knew and I went through with it anyway because I thought I should. But honestly, I made a big mistake. The only good thing to come out of our marriage was the kids.’
Callie refilled Mel’s glass. She had emptied it rather fast. ‘Well look at us,’ Callie smiled, ‘We’re a right pair. Both back in The Bay filled with shattered dreams and regret.’ She clanked her glass against Mel’s, causing her to finally smile.
‘And what about you, Cal? I heard you were happy and living it up in Sydney.’
‘I was. But then it all fell apart and… well, I ended up back here. I won’t be staying though.’ Hearing herself say that out loud, she wondered if she was convincing Mel or herself. ‘I never wanted to stay here. You know that. Remember how much I used to dream about getting out of this town?’
Mel nodded. ‘To be honest, I’m glad to be back. The city wasn’t for me. I did it for Ben, but I never really settled in. When I came back, I felt as if I was home where I belong. And the kids love it here. Remember all the fun we had growing up?’
‘Now that I’m back, I have to admit, it’s not as bad as I made it out to be. I actually feel relaxed for the first time since hitting Sydney and not having all the pressure of the job, not to mention the horrendous traffic, is definitely a bonus.’
‘And Hamish?’ Mel asked, an obvious rise in her tone.
‘Yes, Hamish. He’s even hotter than when I broke up with him.’
‘He’s never gotten over you. You know that, right?’
‘I know I broke his heart and when I saw him the other day I’ll admit, I did get a bit of a flutter, but I’ll be going back to Sydney, or maybe Melbourne eventually, so there’s no point even going there.’
Mel raised both eyebrows. ‘Not even for old times’ sake?’
Callie shrugged. She hadn’t completely ruled out the idea of hooking up with Hamish, if he was willing and understood that it would only be a short-term thing.
‘A-ha!’ Mel teased, ‘I knew it. ‘
‘Well I could be here for a while, so it would be nice to date again and Hamish is the obvious choice. Although something the guy in the bakery said to me the other day kind of struck a chord.’
‘Oh I know who you mean. Billy, the hot one.’
‘He’s not hot,’ Callie corrected, ‘but anyway, he said that if Hamish had been the love of my life, that my choices might have been different. That I might have stayed here if Hamish really was Mr. Right.’
‘Maybe he has a point. If you had been truly, madly in love with Hamish and wanted to make a life only with him, maybe you would have stayed, but you had big dreams that couldn’t be stifled then. Could it be different now?’
‘But why should I have to be the one to compromise? It’s as if I have to give up on everything just to be loved.’’
‘That’s not entirely true. You would have to make some sacrifices, that’s what love is about, but you could practice law anywhere. Hamish is who he is and if he really was the love of your life, then you’d make those sacrifices to be with him no matter what.’
‘God, now you’re sounding like him. The baker.’
Mel got up from the stool. ‘C’mon let’s go get some more bubbles and some food. And why isn’t there any music? We need music, damn it!’
* * *
By 7:00pm all the guests had arrived, including Hamish who was absolutely smouldering hot in blue jeans and a short-sleeved navy shirt. When he kissed Callie hello, she breathed in his delicious cinnamon aftershave, with hints of wood and sweetness.
‘You look amazing, Cal,’ he smiled, bright, white teeth glowing from between his perfect full pink lips.
‘So do you,’ she giggled, suddenly reminding herself of how her mother had sounded earlier when talking to the baker.
Callie shuddered then straightened her shoulders and reminded herself she was a strong and independent woman now. She could talk to and impress a man without getting a case of the teenage giggles.
‘So, how are your parents? Is your dad still trying to do everything in spite of his bad back?’ Callie asked.
Hamish smiled. ‘Yep, that’s about right, although he’s slowed down a little now since the heart attack and all.’
Aware that a bunch of the mistletoe that she had strategically placed around the house earlier was only a few steps away, Callie slowly shifted backwards, inching her way towards it. As expected, Hamish didn’t seem to notice as he continued telling her what was happening on the farm. When he instinctively stepped closer to her, she knew that she’d have him under the mistletoe in no time.
While Hamish continued with the story of his favourite cow Daisy’s pregnancy, behind him, Callie could see Cam talking to Mel in the hall.
Was he crying? Was Mel crying?
‘Hamish, sorry, can you hang on for a minute?’ She interrupted, bee-lining for the pair. By the time she got to them it was too late. Lips were firmly locked and legs had already begun to intertwine.
‘Oh, crap!’ Callie hissed, sensing that Mel might regret her actions in the morning, and feeling a little guilty about plying her with so much champagne. Feeling like a voyeur, she gave up on the idea of trying to separate them and instead headed back to Hamish, who had fabulously moved slightly closer to the mistletoe. He was now only inches away from being beneath it and she was only minutes from pointing it out to him. A nervous flutter filled her stomach. What if he didn’t want to kiss her? What if he said he didn’t like her like that anymore?
‘Sorry about that,’ she apologised, ‘A Cam emergency. Where were we?’
Hamish launched straight back into his story about the calf’s birth. Which actually sounded dreadful. While he described the moment of sliding the gooey baby out with his bare hands, Callie spotted another disaster unfolding. Billy, the annoying baker, was hovering in the kitchen and watching as she was trying to make her move on Hamish. When Billy smirked and gave her the thumbs up, she scowled and huffed, causing Hamish to stop with his story.
‘Sorry, I wasn’t pulling that face at you,’ she apologised, realising he was offended. ‘It’s that stupid baker. He’s so annoying.’
Hamish looked around, clearly unsure of who she was referring to, but continued on anyway as Callie inched further toward the mistletoe. She was almost there until Billy pointed to it and winked at her. Fuming at the nerve of him, it took all of her restraint to stop from leaping across the room and throttling him. Thankfully her mother had found Billy and was now smiling wildly at him as she chatted and touched his arm.
‘What do you think?’ Hamish asked.
In that moment Callie realised she hadn’t been listening to a single word he’d said. She wanted to blame Billy for distracting her, but in truth, nothing Hamish had said was even the slightest bit interesting. She stared at his gorgeous blue eyes and luscious lips that were al
l but begging her to kiss them. Physically, this man had absolutely everything, but what Callie had forgotten was how utterly boring he could be to talk to. The memories that had flooded back fondly earlier, of the two of them together in the park and going to the formal, had not brought with them the actual memories of how while lying in that park, Hamish had talked non-stop about shearing the sheep and how many there were to get through. And while on the ride to their formal, he had ranted the whole way about some other farmer who was doing something he didn’t agree with.
‘Cal?’
‘Sorry, Hamish, I was distracted by my mum for a minute, what was the question?’
‘I asked if you’d been buying branded dairy to help out the farmers since the crisis.’
Callie watched as his lips moved, revealing the perfectly straight, bright white teeth that she had admired while they were dating. Did it matter that he was boring and only ever talked about the farm? Did it matter that he had no idea about anything that was going on in the world if it wasn’t farming related? She still wanted to kiss him and she had finally inched close enough to be under the mistletoe.
Before she could answer his question, there was a crash from the hall, followed by raucous giggling. Callie turned to see her brother and Mel, as well as her mother’s hall table, on the floor, the pair with their lips still locked together.
Callie felt Hamish step in closer behind her. His hand, strong and warm, pressed gently on her side. Was he going to pull her in? Swing her around and kiss her passionately under the mistletoe?
She waited a moment, her breath held in her throat in anticipation as she imagined him taking her in his arms. She remembered what it was like to kiss those lips. Hamish was always passionate and gentle, yet firm and sure of himself.
When she felt him place his other hand on her side and begin to turn her toward him, she closed her eyes and breathed in. She held it there, but the lips didn’t come to meet hers. Opening her eyes, she stared into Billy’s eyes instead. Before she could protest or slap him, he leaned in and gently kissed her.