Man Drought

by Rachael Johns

  The balls of his feet already pushing into the ground, he made the fatal error of meeting Imogen’s gaze. They were almost at the table now. She looked straight at him and smiled, but it wasn’t her usual wide-lipped grin, the smile he’d been treated to more and more lately. There was something lacking, and as she lowered herself and the baby into the chair across from his, he noted something akin to sadness in her eyes. This was odd, considering she had her two best friends near, and it made him reassess his decision to go. She’d gone beyond the call of friendship this week, listening endlessly to his worries about Charlie, not to mention looking out for him at work. The least he could do was stick around to see if she needed support in return.

  ‘I hope you’re looking after my guests,’ she said, looking to him and Guy and visibly trying to stretch her smile. ‘I want them to come back.’

  ‘You won’t be able to keep us away,’ Ryan said, pulling Amy onto his lap.

  Gibson became acutely aware that he and Imogen were the odd couple – the only pair in the group who weren’t actually a couple.

  ‘So, said Imogen, tell us more about this Man Drought weekend,’ Ryan asked. ‘It sounds like a hoot. I’m almost disappointed I’m a married man.’

  Amy punched him in the shoulder and he feigned severe injury. Everyone laughed, because they all knew Ryan wouldn’t swap his wedding ring for anyone or anything.

  Offering a smile that looked more genuine by the second, Imogen glanced at Gibson. ‘Maybe I should let him fill you in. He seems to think he knows best about the situation.’

  Gibson raised his eyebrows and took a slug of beer.

  ‘Yeah,’ Guy piped up, grinning knowingly, ‘tell us what you think about it all.’

  ‘All right.’ Gibson leaned back, getting comfy in the seat. Everyone leaned forward in anticipation, but he let them wait a moment. ‘I think it’s a fabulous idea.’

  ‘Liar!’ Imogen only realised she’d shouted when baby Gibson stirred and started to cry. The others laughed – even Amy as she offered to take her baby back.

  ‘Good one,’ Gibson said, shaking his head in mock-disgust. ‘Upset the baby, why don’t you?’

  The look she gave him made him think she might whack him like Amy had Ryan.

  ‘If you’d told the truth, I wouldn’t have raised my voice,’ she spat, still smiling good-naturedly.

  ‘Well, I seem to be outnumbered. Everyone else can’t wait, so …’ He shrugged. ‘If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em, right?’

  Jenna couldn’t hold back after that. She took it upon herself to outline every angle of the Man Drought weekend and why it would be fun as well as positive for the town.

  ‘Even if only a couple of matches are made, the word-of-mouth advertising will mean other women will be starting to trek this way of their own accord. The pub and the town will soon be a hotspot on the Western Australian map,’ she concluded.

  Gibson pitied anyone who walked into her gallery just to browse – at her animated spiel the excitement was building even in his gut.

  ‘Will you and Amy be making the trip?’ he asked Ryan.

  ‘Nah,’ Ryan shook his head. ‘It’s back to work for me on Monday, and although we’d love to come, it doesn’t really sound like the kind of thing you can bring a baby to. I’m sure we’ll hear all about it from Imogen and Jenna though.’

  ‘Damn straight,’ promised Jenna. ‘And I’ll take a zillion photos.’

  After that, they ordered dinner. Gibson hadn’t been planning on a late one in town, but he found himself choosing from the menu anyway. Imogen ate with them and then spent the evening flitting back and forth between the bar and the table. Even when she wasn’t with them, he could sense her exact whereabouts in the pub.

  Arriving late, Wazza joined them halfway through the food. He stole chips from Guy and Gibson’s plates and then – typical Wazza style – ordered a meal of his own when everyone else was done. Cal and Charlie joined the conversation on their breaks and the evening flew by. Gibson couldn’t believe the time when Cal rang the closing bell. He’d avoided late nights out for a long time, and could count the number of nights he been out with his mates since his divorce on one hand.

  He’d deliberately withdrawn from the limited social life there was in Gibson’s Find, but all of a sudden he couldn’t recall why. He’d forgotten how enjoyable it was just tossing back a few beers and having a good meal with mates. Imogen and her friends had reminded him of this, and he found himself really looking forward to the weekend.

  He should have taken a leaf out of her book – life may not have taken the path he’d always imagined it would, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t another path that could be just as fulfilling. It was time to stop wallowing. Time to reassess and adjust his life goals.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  ‘Woohoo!’ Jenna punched the air as Guy’s ute drove out of the pub car park with Ryan happily riding in the front seat. It was nine o’clock on Saturday morning and the boys were on their way to Gibson’s farm for some bloke time. She turned to Imogen and Amy, who was carrying Gibson in a baby sling. ‘Let’s play.’

  Imogen raised an eyebrow at her friend and couldn’t keep the amusement from her voice. ‘Getting bored in paradise already?’ she asked.

  ‘Not at all,’ Jenna said, happiness glowing all over her face. She stepped between Imogen and Amy and wrapped one arm around each of them. ‘Last night was amazing. Every day with Guy keeps getting better and better, but that doesn’t mean I don’t need my girl time.’

  Imogen understood exactly what she meant. Ryan had been up at the crack of dawn, pottering round Imogen’s kitchen like a kid at Christmas, eager to get the day started. She’d been just as excited. Having arranged the roster so she wouldn’t be needed until late afternoon, she had big plans for a day inside: eating chocolate, flicking through the magazines Jenna had brought from the city, watching favourite romantic comedies, painting each other’s toenails, simply talking … They hadn’t had a day like this in far too long.

  ‘Amen to girl time,’ Amy added. ‘Although I hope you don’t mind one man present.’

  Jenna laughed and Imogen pressed a kiss against baby Gibson’s forehead. ‘Since he can’t talk and spill our girly secrets, we’ll make an exception just this once.’

  Once inside the apartment, Amy commandeered the couch to feed Gibson, Imogen headed to the kitchen for snacks, and Jenna emptied what she called her ‘bag of tricks’ all over the coffee table. Neither Amy nor Imogen had ever been girly girls, but whenever Jenna was around they played along. Once in a while, they quite enjoyed the whole princess act of facials, manicures and pedicures.

  Such luxuries were usually accompanied by chocolate and champagne, but today they decided to go easy on the latter since Amy was breastfeeding and Imogen had to work that night. In theory, Jenna agreed to this, but her actions told a different story. She pulled a bottle from the bottom of her bag, held it high and popped the cork just as Imogen returned with a tray of heated pastries.

  ‘So sue me,’ she said with a grin, as Amy and Imogen glared at her. ‘I feel like celebrating.’

  ‘Celebrating what?’ Imogen asked, taking a bite of a mini chocolate croissant.

  ‘Hmm … let’s see, good sex? No, make that fabulous sex, the meeting of like minds and … um …’ She glanced around the apartment as if looking for inspiration. ‘More fabulous sex.’

  Amy shifted Gibson to the other side and shrugged. ‘Sounds as good a reason as any to me.’

  Starting to blush at the topic of discussion, Imogen headed back to the kitchen, stole a few moments to pull herself together and returned with three champagne flutes. She held each one up as Jenna did the honours, and then passed a glass to Amy.

  ‘To fabulous sex.’ Jenna held her glass high and then clinked it in quick succession against Amy’s and Imogen’s. She collapsed into an armchair and took a sip.

  Amy held her glass in her free hand and stared longingly at it. ‘I’m not su
re I should be drinking this.’

  ‘Surely a tiny sip won’t do you any harm,’ Imogen said. Now that she could smell the fruity aroma in her own glass, she was rethinking her decision to go easy. What was a girly weekend without champagne?

  ‘That’s not what I meant.’ Amy snorted. ‘I was too uncomfortable during the last month or so of pregnancy to make love with Ryan. I feel like we haven’t touched each other in ages.’

  Although Amy tried to make a joke of it, you couldn’t miss the sadness in her voice. She missed the intimacy with her husband and boy-oh-boy could Imogen relate. The romp with Gibson hadn’t been in the same ballpark as what she’d shared with Jamie, but it had at least fulfilled a need. Not wanting to think about that or him right now, she took a sip and tried to think of something to say to Amy. Unfortunately, she couldn’t find any words of comfort.

  Amy read her silence in totally the wrong way. ‘Oh, Imogen,’ she rushed, leaning forward and almost crushing the baby as she placed her glass on the table. She edged along the couch so her thigh was touching Imogen’s and put the arm that had been holding the glass around Imogen’s shoulders. ‘I’m sorry. That was so insensitive. Here I am, gushing about not having sex for a couple of months, but at least I’ve still got my husband.’

  She pulled Imogen into her side, but Imogen resisted – she didn’t deserve this kind of sympathy. The mood in the room had switched from lighthearted and carefree to dark and heavy in a heartbeat. This weekend wasn’t supposed to be about tears. Lord knows they’d shed enough of them in the past. Imogen glanced at Jenna, hoping her friend would do her usual trick of saying something funny to clear the air.

  ‘Maybe you should lend her your vibrator, Imogen!’

  Imogen winced. Not that, anything but that.

  ‘Your what?’ Amy’s eyes widened as she stared at Imogen.

  Reluctantly, she filled Amy in, surprised that Jenna hadn’t already told her. By the end of the story, Amy was laughing so hard she had to hand Gibson to Imogen. ‘I … have to … see it.’ She clutched her belly, only just managing to get the words past her giggles.

  ‘No. Don’t be silly.’ Imogen stared down at little Gibson’s angelic face. ‘Mummy and Aunty Jenna are being silly, aren’t they, little man?’

  ‘It’s not silly, it’s hilarious.’ Amy took a deep breath. ‘I’ve never needed a vibrator, but that doesn’t mean I’m not curious. Please get it out.’

  ‘Really? You’ve never even seen one?’ Jenna was incredulous. ‘I have failed you both. You should have said something. I’d have been more than happy to show you my collection.’

  ‘This is stupid.’ Imogen rolled her eyes, but in the end she relented. She knew her friends: once they were stuck on something, there was no moving on until they got it out of their systems. Rattling off the position of the pink box, Imogen gave Jenna permission to get it from her bedroom.

  Amy bounced on the couch in anticipation. Rolling her eyes, Imogen turned Gibson’s head against her shoulder to protect his innocent eyes from his mother’s depravity.

  ‘Ta-dah!’ Jenna appeared back in the lounge room, whipping the fake penis out of its box like a bunny from a magician’s top hat. Imogen couldn’t help but smirk, imagining Jenna as the assistant to an ‘adult’ magician.

  ‘Oh! My!’ Amy thrust her hand over her mouth. ‘It actually looks like one.’

  Jenna snorted. ‘Honey, if you’ve seen one that size, Ryan deserves a prize. Guy’s is good, but not that good.’

  Amy and Jenna succumbed to hysterics again, but Imogen rocked Gibson quietly off to one side. Her cheeks and forehead burned with the sordid thoughts rushing through her head. From what she could recall of Gibson’s … um … appendage, it more than measured up to the battery-operated imitation. Jamie had been well-hung, but Gibson, well …

  ‘What’s it like?’ Imogen glanced up to see Amy turning the vibrator in her hand. ‘Go on, spill,’ Amy pleaded.

  ‘I haven’t used it,’ Imogen replied, snuggling the baby close and pushing aside the thoughts she’d been harbouring seconds before. She didn’t know why this fact mattered so much, but it did.

  ‘Bull. Shit.’ Jenna shook her head. ‘I don’t care how much you rabbit on about life out here agreeing with you, you don’t get that glow in your eyes from country air. You’ve been getting good release from my present.’

  ‘Shut up, Jenna.’ Imogen blushed. With her free hand, she picked up her glass and went to take another sip before realising it was empty. So much for not drinking too much. ‘You have no idea what you’re talking about,’ she added instead.

  ‘Girls, girls, stop.’ Amy put down the offending item and held up her hands. ‘We’re here to relax, have fun and enjoy each other’s company. Not bicker about unimportant things. I want to hear all about Imogen’s adventures out here. And then,’ she turned to Jenna, ‘I want to hear exactly what you plan to do about this thing you have going with the farmer.’

  The mention of Guy had Jenna beaming ridiculously again. She glanced to Imogen. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.’

  ‘It’s okay. I know.’ Imogen wanted to explain why she’d snapped, why she felt so on edge, but the whole vibrator episode hit a nerve. More and more she’d thought about using it these last few days, but each time she’d decided it wouldn’t live up to what she’d experienced with Gibson. The man’s namesake murmured a baby noise in her arms, and she peered down at his sweet perfection.

  It would have been so much easier if she’d had her moment of insanity with a passer-by – one of the travellers who booked a room for one night and then continued on – instead of the grandson of one of her staff. Instead of a local who insisted they could be friends.

  ‘You and Gibson were pretty chummy last night,’ Amy mused. ‘He seems like a really nice guy.’

  Imogen stiffened. Swallowed. Once again wondered if Amy had a direct line to her thoughts. This was her chance to come clean, and part of her really wanted to. If she couldn’t discuss her guilt with her best friends, who could she turn to? She shrugged. ‘He’s only here for Charlie.’ Her friends raised their eyebrows – she hadn’t meant to sound so defensive.

  ‘That’s nice of him.’ Jenna selected a pastry from the tray and started to nibble. ‘And what’s his story? Married, divorced, gay?’

  As if! ‘How should I know?’ Imogen snapped.

  More raised eyebrows, an exchange of meaning-filled stares, and then, ‘I don’t know, Imogen, you tell us,’ from Amy.

  With that one statement Imogen knew she’d been caught. She dropped her head, wanting to catch it in her hands but unable to do so because her hands were full of newborn. Instead, she pulled the baby closer, glanced first to Amy, then to Jenna, then to the ceiling.

  ‘Okay, okay, I slept with him.’

  Silence filled the room at her announcement. You could have heard a sheep bleat in the next shire. Imogen kept her eyes trained on a Victorian ceiling rose that was wasted in the publican’s apartment, and waited for someone to say anything. Already she felt relieved, like a pin had popped the bubble of tension in her heart.

  ‘Wow,’ breathed Amy eventually.

  ‘I knew it! Guy was right,’ Jenna added. ‘And was it fabulous?’

  Imogen laughed, when she felt like crying.

  Amy stood, picked up her baby and took him across the room to lay him in the pram. When she returned, she sat down next to Imogen. Jenna had already plonked herself on the other side. The two-seater couch was really too small for all of them, but Imogen felt her friends arms close around her. She leaned into their group hug and sobbed.

  For a long time, there were no words. Just tears, back rubs and someone stroking her hair. She’d always loved people playing with or brushing with her hair – it relaxed her and her friends knew this. She was so damn lucky to have these fabulous women in her life and she wanted to talk about what she’d done, how being with Gibson had made her feel, but where the hell was she supposed to start?

  Sn
iffing, she pulled out of their embrace. ‘Thanks guys. I just miss him so much.’ She meant Jamie, although she hadn’t been able to get Gibson out of her mind since that fateful day either.

  ‘That’s totally understandable,’ Amy said. At her voice, the baby made a noise in the pram and she stretched out her hand and started to rock it.

  ‘We miss him too,’ Jenna added quietly, ‘but you are allowed to move on.’

  Her heart stampeded at the mere thought. ‘Moving here was about moving on, starting a new business, making a new life, but it was never about finding a new man and it definitely didn’t include sleeping around.’

  Jenna let out a snort of disbelief. ‘Unless there are other men you’re not telling us about, I hardly think you can call it sleeping around. How many times have you slept with him?’

  ‘Once,’ Imogen admitted, unable to meet her friend’s eye. ‘But that one time was in the back of his ute, at the side of a road.’

  ‘No way.’ Amy sounded surprised, impressed and also a little disappointed.

  ‘I know.’

  Jenna clapped her hands and shrieked, ‘You go, girl.’

  Imogen glared at her.

  ‘Sorry.’ Jenna shrugged apologetically. ‘But was it really that terrible?’

  There wasn’t a straightforward answer to that question. ‘If I’m going to talk about this, I’m going to need more poison. Sorry Amy.’ Imogen picked up the bottle and shared the remnants between her and Jenna’s glasses.

  ‘Go for it.’ Amy waved her hand in front of her face. ‘I’ll just overdose on water.’

  After a long sip of liquid courage, Imogen finally felt ready to talk. ‘The actual act wasn’t terrible at all.’ She took a deep breath and shared with her friends everything that had happened since she met Gibson. The feelings of desire she hadn’t experienced in years, the way Gibson had been distant and downright grumpy at first, and how she’d still found herself attracted to him. His admission of lust and the magic they’d experienced straight after. She was generous with her detail, so much so that it almost felt as if she were sharing someone else’s story. Jenna was on the edge of her seat throughout and Amy fanned her face a number of times.