Daddy's Christmas Date

by Piper Sullivan

  “Oh,” said Zane, acting as if he was sad. He pretended to cry. “Am I a silly daddy?”

  The girls giggled, looking at him lovingly. I could see that they adored him, and I didn’t need to wonder why. He was wonderful with all his children.

  “I found an old dolly, Daddy,” said Harper, picking up Dora from next to her to show him. Zane looked shocked when he saw it.

  “Whoa,” he said, reeling back. “That is one scary looking doll. Perfect for Halloween. It was up in the attic?”

  “Yes,” answered Harper, cuddling Dora. “She’s not scary, Daddy. She’s beautiful! And Bianca found an old dress that your great, great...” she frowned, thinking, “… something used to wear.”

  Zane turned to me, his eyebrows raised a little. “Bianca found an old dress?”

  “Yes,” I said, blushing again. What was wrong with me? “Very old. I think it’s Victorian.”

  “You should wear it, Bianca!” Poppy said, looking excited. “Why don’t you and Daddy have a party for Halloween, as well?”

  I laughed. I couldn’t think of a thing to say.

  Zane came to my rescue. “The dress is probably too old to wear,” he said. “And it is enough that you kids are celebrating.” He reached over and planted a kiss on his daughter’s head.

  “Can you dress up too, Daddy?” Harper pleaded. “I really want you to…and Bianca!”

  “Please, please, Daddy,” said Poppy, joining the fray. Even Max looked at his father expectantly.

  Zane threw his hands up in the air, as if to fend them off. “I mightn’t even be here when it happens. I might be away. You guys know I travel a lot.”

  The girls looked so downcast my heart ached, just a little. Max stared down at the floor.

  “Did someone say something about a Halloween party?”

  We all looked around. George, Zane’s personal assistant, was standing there, an interested expression on his face. I had spoken to George a few times, and he was always friendly and warm towards me. I sensed that George might be one of my few allies at Birrimba.

  “Just the kids making plans,” Zane smiled. “They sure run away with ideas when they get them.”

  “Your schedule is clear for October 31st,” said George, a small smile playing over his face. “You could definitely have a Halloween party here. Bianca and I could arrange it all.”

  “Why do I get the impression I am being backed into a corner here?” Zane replied.

  “It would be good to catch up with your neighbors,” George replied. “You haven’t had a party at Birrimba for over a year. Great to know what’s happening in the district from the ground. And it would be a great personal relations event.” I looked at George, admiringly. The man sure was persuasive. I had a feeling George could sell snow to an Eskimo.

  “Please, please, Daddy.” Poppy and Harper were repeating it like a mantra. Even Max was looking at him expectantly.

  The children wanted to see more of their father, that was obvious. Well, why wouldn’t they? They had been tossed back and forth between their parents so much. And they wanted a big party, something exciting. I wasn’t sure what George’s motivation was about pushing for a party, but I wasn’t about to contradict him. All of it meant that the children and I would get to know each other better and have more to work towards.

  So, I entered the fray. “I’ll definitely help George organize the party,” I said, smiling. “You won’t have to do a thing, Zane. We promise.” The children nodded solemnly. So did George.

  “We promise, Daddy,” Harper said, her eyes shining.

  Zane put his hands up in the air, conceding defeat. “If my schedule is clear,” he said, sighing. “Alright. We can have a big party.”

  The girls shouted in excitement, running to their father and kissing him. Max smiled. George and I looked at each other, smiling in satisfaction. “Shall I schedule a party meeting, then?” he said. “Miss Harris? Shall we consult our diaries?”

  I laughed. “Sure, George,” I said. “Let me know when a time suits.”

  He nodded, walking away as Mrs. Price came into the room. She looked at us in confusion.

  “What’s the hullabaloo about?” she asked. Her head was turning with the speed of a ping pong ball from the children, to Zane, to me.

  “Mrs. Price, you need to dust off your witches’ costume,” Zane said, gravely. “We’re having a Halloween party.”

  Mrs. Price’s eyes rolled heavenwards. “We live in Australia!” she muttered, shaking her head. “Will wonders never cease?” She walked off.

  Zane and I looked at each other, trying to stifle a laugh. I think we were thinking the same thing, visualizing Mrs. Price dressed as a witch. It was a pretty funny mental picture.

  His eyes lingered on my face. I felt my breath catch, and my heart begin to race. What on earth was going on?

  I couldn’t remember ever feeling this way about a man. I really couldn’t.

  Zane

  I could hear children’s laughter and the thud of running footsteps drifting through the air. I smiled to myself, finally allowing a pause in my morning work schedule. Emails were done and meetings arranged. I could stop for a moment, maybe get myself a coffee.

  I smiled again as I heard Harper’s little voice raised excitedly. Then there was the sound of the sewing machine. Bianca was already hard at it, obviously. Halloween costumes were being prepared; she had started the day before. I was still a bit gob smacked that there was going to be a big party here.

  I felt like I had to give in, to appease the kids. And Bianca and George, of course. Everyone was so enthusiastic about it, I would have looked like the biggest Scrooge if I had poured cold water on the idea. But I was a bit ambivalent about it, to say the least.

  I stared out the window as I pondered. I hadn’t entertained – or at least, not on such a large scale – since Jo and I had broken up. I hadn’t had the heart, or the time, really. Jo had always loved entertaining, and had often arranged parties here. I could still hear her voice, begging me to allow yet another party. “I have to do something, out here,” she had always said. “I think I might die of boredom, otherwise.”

  It had been her familiar refrain, and one of the reasons we had broken up, eventually. Jo had hated living out here. She had never understood my passion for Birrimba, or learnt to share it. Well, she was a city girl, through and through. I had met her at a party in Sydney, where she had lived for most of her life. She had lived out here reluctantly. I had always tried to get her to see how wonderful it was: the amazing landscape, the vastness of the land, the history of the homestead. My history. But she had never understood. To her, Birrimba was like a prison, one she would try to escape from more and more as the years progressed.

  “Why do we have to live here?” she had often asked. “You’re a billionaire, for Christ’s sake! You could get a manager to do everything here, and we could live in Sydney or on the Gold Coast. Somewhere civilized!”

  We had drifted apart. She began to spend more time in Sydney, leaving the kids behind. And at one of those parties, she had met Billy Baker. I had found out, of course. Sydney was just a large village, after all, when you knew people. Word had got around. When I knew that Jo was having an affair, that was it, for me. I told her to leave.

  I shook my head, impatiently, as I stared out the window. I had to stop thinking about it. We had both made choices, but now it was time to move on. The kids were the priority. And if a big party and dressing up eased their trauma, even for just a little while, then I would grit my teeth and get on with it. Just try not to visualize Jo here, playing hostess yet again.

  I thought of the new nanny. Bianca. She was really trying to win over the children with this Halloween project. And it was working. The girls were falling in love with her, completely caught up in making costumes and decorations. Even Max was slowly coming around, just a little.

  Bianca. She was a clever and talented woman. She was also so damn sexy it was becoming increasingly harder for m
e to think of anything else. Especially watching her in her denim shorts and tank tops. I was kind of glad that she didn’t wear a uniform, like Rosa had. I thought of the way she tossed her hair back, and her laugh. I could hear it now, responding to something one of the girls had said.

  I stood up, stretching. Time for that coffee. I should say hello to the kids. I tried to ignore the fact that it was Bianca I wanted to see.

  “Daddy!” Harper ran to me, almost knocking me over in the process.

  “Well, what do we have here?” I stared down at her. She was wearing a pink and silver long dress, with sleeves like petals and a ragged hemline.

  She twirled around for me. “Do you like it, Daddy? Bianca has almost finished it! I am going to be a fairy princess!”

  I looked at Bianca, who had turned around to smile at us from the sewing machine. “Almost there,” she said. “Just a few alterations, and Harper’s costume will be ready.”

  “Wow,” I said. “You are talented. It looks like something from a costume shop.”

  “Thank you,” she said, blushing slightly. That was one thing I really liked about Bianca. She accepted compliments, but she didn’t have a big head. She wasn’t cocky about her talents. And, I had to admit, I liked giving them to her. Just to see that rosy hue come to her face.

  Poppy ran into the room, clutching one of her books. “Daddy! Bianca is going to start on my costume, next. I am going to be Alice.” She waved the book at me. It was one of her favorites, that I had read to her many times. A picture book version of Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland. Poppy had always said that she wanted to be Alice. She claimed she wanted to go to the Mad Hatter’s tea party.

  “As soon as I’ve done a few little things to Harper’s costume,” Bianca said. “I’ll start on it.”

  “Where’s Max?” I ruffled Poppy’s hair. Her eyes were gleaming excitedly, too.

  “He’s at school.” Bianca said. “In the other room.”

  I nodded, in satisfaction. Max seemed to be settling down again. It had always been hard to get Max to settle to his schooling out here, but Bianca seemed to have managed it. She really was doing an exceptional job.

  “What are you going to dress up as, Daddy?” Poppy asked, slamming her book onto the table. “George told us this morning he’s sent out invitations for the Halloween party!”

  I frowned. “I haven’t given it much thought, sweetie,” I said. “Maybe I could just grab an old sheet, rip a hole in it and go as a ghost?” I smiled.

  Poppy’s eyes widened in horror. “No, Daddy! Bianca will make you something.” She nodded her head, confidently.

  “I think that Bianca has her hands full with all of your costumes,” I remarked. “Besides, it doesn’t worry me.”

  “I’ll see how I go,” Bianca remarked. “We could look in the attic, again. There might be something up there that I could alter quickly.”

  “Don’t go to any trouble,” I said, looking at her.

  “It’s no trouble,” she said, smiling. “I enjoy it. I love clothes. I’ll just have to measure you, if we do make something from scratch.”

  “Bianca will take care of it,” said Poppy, in her most grown up voice.

  I laughed. “I’ll leave you guys to it,” I said, walking to the kitchen. “I’m going to make myself a coffee, then I have to head out to the yards this afternoon. Have fun.”

  I couldn’t resist a final look at Bianca. She was wearing a blue sundress today. My gaze lingered over her, noticing the way the dress clung to her figure. Full breasts, and long legs. It was getting hot in here.

  She looked at me, suddenly, as if she knew my thoughts. It was my turn to color slightly, as I walked off. I really had to get a grip on this.

  I looked out over the property, nursing my night time beer as I leaned against the veranda railing. The kids had gone to bed an hour ago, still talking excitedly about Halloween.

  I had been filled in on the progress of it all at dinner that night. Harper’s costume was all done, apparently, and Bianca had started on Poppy’s that afternoon.

  “At least we won’t have to get a wig for you,” Bianca had said to her, smiling. “You already have Alice’s long golden hair.” Poppy had smiled, her eyes shining.

  “What about mine?” Max had asked.

  “You haven’t decided yet,” Bianca reminded him. “What do you want to be?”

  “A pirate,” Max had said. “I want to be Captain Jack Sparrow!” Not surprising. Pirates of the Caribbean was an old favorite movie of his.

  Bianca laughed. “What happened to Batman?” she said. “Okay, but that’s it, now. You can’t change your mind again, or I won’t finish it in time. Captain Jack Sparrow it is, for better or worse.” Bianca had leaned across the table, uplifting her hand. “High five?”

  Max had looked at her hand extended toward him. I held my breath. Would he? It would be just like Max to ignore it, leaving Bianca high and dry.

  But then he high fived her, smiling. I let out a sigh of relief. Yes, Max was coming around. He was starting to accept Bianca.

  I heard a noise; something was moving against a fence, in the distance. Had a stray wombat or kangaroo got itself caught in the fence? It happened. I should probably go and investigate.

  I grabbed a torch from inside, walking toward the fence line where I thought I had heard it. It wasn’t too dark a night; a full moon hovered close to the earth, shedding a pearly light over the land.

  I saw a figure, moving toward me. It was Bianca.

  “Oh,” she said, jumping slightly. “You startled me!”

  “What are you doing?” I asked her.

  “Just going for a night time walk,” she said. “It’s so beautiful out here, at night. I love the desert at night. It’s cooler out here than inside.”

  I looked at her. The moonlight cast an aura around her hair.

  “Yes, it is beautiful,” I replied. “Did you hear that noise against the fence?”

  “Yes,” she replied. “That’s why I came over here.”

  I shone my torch toward the fence. Sure enough, we could see a wombat butting its head against it, the barrel like body moving against it as if force alone could shift the fence.

  “What is it?” Bianca asked.

  I laughed. “Haven’t you ever seen a wombat before?” I asked. “One of our native animals. They are everywhere. They burrow under the ground, and come out mostly at night.”

  “It’s a weird looking thing, isn’t it?” She came close, examining the creature.

  I could smell her perfume on the night air. Suddenly, I couldn’t resist, any longer.

  I grabbed her, the torch falling at our feet.

  She looked up at me, her eyes glimmering in the night air.

  Then I kissed her. I groaned, not really believing that I was doing this. Kissing the nanny, alongside a fence at night. What the hell was I playing at?

  But then rational thought left me, as the sensations caused by exploring her lips started to overwhelm me. Her lips were soft. She moaned, slowly.

  I tilted her head back, my lips finding her neck. At the same time, I pressed her against my body, urgently. I could feel myself as hard as a rock against her softness. Jesus, I could take her, right this minute, pressed up against the fence. The urge was overwhelming.

  But something was pressing at my mind. A torch light, coming toward us. I broke off, letting her go. Her breath was ragged.

  “Everything okay?” It was Robbo. “I heard some noise.”

  “All good,” I said, catching my breath. “Just a wombat.” Robbo nodded, slowly. I picked up the torch that had fallen, forgotten, on the ground. “I suppose we should get back,” I said. I looked at Bianca. She nodded, slowly.

  What on earth had just happened? What had gotten into me?

  Bianca

  I climbed into bed that night, hot and flushed after our encounter.

  Me and the boss, pressed up against a barbed wire fence, being watched by a wombat. Not the most roman
tic encounter in the world, at least on paper. But the reality had been far, far different. So hot, in fact, that I was barely able to cool down. I felt sweat dripping down my neck, between my breasts, everywhere. I peeled off the nightgown that I had just put on, lying naked between the sheets.

  It had been awkward afterwards, of course. Robbo had disturbed us; we walked into the house not looking at each other. I think Zane was as shell shocked about what had occurred as me. He hadn’t expected it. It had kind of come out of nowhere.

  “Well,” he had said, refusing to meet my eye, “I should get to bed. Good night.” He had walked off.

  “Good night,” I had called, but he was gone before my words could even reach him.

  I knew I was playing with fire. There was no way I wasn’t going to get burnt by this, if I let it. What did I want? And, just as importantly, what did he want? Did he make it a habit of dallying with the nannies? I had no way of knowing. The kids had told me that Rosa, the previous nanny, had been an old woman, but then they thought anyone over the age of twenty-five was old. Maybe Zane made a habit out of it. Maybe it was one of the reasons his marriage had broken up. Who knew?

  Restless, I turned on my bed side light. Sleep was eluding me. Seeking distraction, I picked up the old journal I had liberated from the attic from my bedside table. I glanced at it doubtfully. It was probably a record of housekeeping supplies, utterly boring. But it was worth a try.

  An inscription was scrawled on the first page: Journal of Florence Mary Connelly 1892, it said.

  Today was the worst day of my life, it started. We have come to the middle of nowhere to run cattle. There is only dust, and sand, and flies. Benedict assures me we can move into the house soon, but for now we all must make do living in an old shed. The house is almost ready, he says. I think of our life back in Sydney and despair. It seems so far away.

  I put down the journal, intrigued. Who were Florence, and Benedict? Ancestors of Zane? I knew the old homestead had been built in 1894, but this was dated a couple of years prior. Was the house Florence referring to being built this one? She sounded so lost, and forlorn, stuck in the Outback. Kind of like me.