A Christmas Rescue

by Diane Michaels

“Then you’re in no danger of succumbing to the powers of your jewelry tonight. But should you ever find yourself to be single, you could do a lot worse than Xave.”

  Dane elbows her. “Hey!”

  She laughs, blowing him a kiss. “You are definitely not a lot worse than Xave.”

  “Worse than me how?” Xave’s eyes dance between Beth and me.

  Coop says, “You’re a worse surfer, brah.”

  Everyone bursts out laughing, pulling the focus away from me. Cooper to the rescue! I’d hate for Xavier to have caught any part of my conversation with Beth.

  Maya holds her glass toward me. “Someone get this woman a drink. I suggest any of their specialty cocktails. Or we could order a carafe of sangria.”

  “Sangria sounds good. But just one glass for me. I have to plow through another page or two of translating before bed.”

  Xavier says, “Oh, I’m sorry. I should have asked you before we left whether you were up for a late night. Whenever you’re ready to head home, say the word.”

  I bat my hand at him. “No, it won’t make a difference whether I work tonight or not. Forget I said anything.”

  The group roars to life again when Jason approaches the table. He takes a seat on the bench kitty-corner from me. He stretches an arm around my shoulder and hugs me. Xave shifts in his seat.

  When a server approaches our table, Maya orders a carafe of sangria. Jason and Xave choose pints of a locally brewed beer.

  “Anybody want to order some food?” Jason asks. “I’m in the mood for oysters.” He points his chin at me with a chuckle and a flick of his eyebrows.

  “Hannah, you have to try their pizza. Want to split a margherita-style pizza with me?” Xavier reaches across Jason’s chest to hand me the menu.

  “I’d try a slice. Sure,” I say.

  Once the server leaves, Maya, Coop, and Jason engage in a loud conversation about surfing. I know a lot of Australian slang, thanks to my dad, but the thought of him holding a funboard and going on about a cranking day on the waves, well, it’s too weird to imagine. My time would be better spent if I were at my grandmother’s, translating another page or two.

  “Hey, we’re leaving poor Hannah out of the conversation.” Jason scoots closer to me. “You ever surf?”

  “Michigan’s not exactly the surf capital of the US. If you want epic waves, you have to head to Nebraska.”

  Six pairs of eyes stare at me. Cooper scratches his head. “That’s a new one for me. I’ve surfed Hawaii and Huntington Beach in California. Is Nebraska better?”

  I snort. “Nebraska is in the heart of corn country. And the state is landlocked.”

  Jason’s hand lands on my bare knee, and he throws back his head with a chuckle. He turns to Xavier. “She’s hysterical, mate. Why haven’t you introduced me to her before tonight?”

  Xavier scoots onto the edge of Jason’s seat. “Here comes our food. You and I should switch places since I’m sharing my pizza with Hannah.”

  “I will in a minute. Hannah, say the word, and I’ll give you your first surf lesson. You’re Sheila’s granddaughter, right?” I nod. “I had her standing on her board in the waves on day one.”

  “My grandmother surfs?”

  “She’s the coolest old lady I know. I bet you’re just like her. I’d like to find out.”

  Xavier picks up the pizza plate, crosses behind Jason, and shoves him with his hip, clearing a spot on the bench to be closer to me. “Hannah, do you want Maya to pour you a glass of sangria? You’re looking thirsty from listening to our surf talk. Here, let me get you a slice of pizza.”

  It would be easy to dismiss Xavier’s actions as practical. I would much rather eat from a plate in front of me than reach across Jason’s chest. And Xave’s being a good friend, introducing me to his friends and sharing his food. But his expression stops my heart for a second. He’s clenching his jaw. His eyes dart, not quite focusing on either Jason or me, but he’s definitely trying to keep both of us within view.

  Is he jealous? That would be ridiculous. True, Jason’s a handsome guy. I’d have to be blind not to notice his deep blue eyes or follow his hand while it sweeps silky, black hair from his face. And he has a pair of shoulders on him, the likeness of which deserves to be sculpted in marble. But I don’t care for how handsy he is. He’s the embodiment of the waves Beth’s boyfriend, Dane, described: a bit too aggro for my taste.

  It’s stupid—and even vain—to think Xavier would be jealous because Jason hit on me. He knows I’m in a relationship and will be going home soon.

  Tonight has tugged me in so many directions. It began with the crazy thoughts he put in my head when he said the word pleasure. I had actually fantasized about kissing him for a moment. And then he had to go and bring up the memory of his last kiss on our way over here. It would have been safer for me to have stayed home tonight.

  But the warm, tropical air and the most delicious glass of sangria I’ve ever had remind me I should take advantage of being in Australia. And the Jason/Xavier weirdness aside, I love being out with such a fun group of people.

  Brett and I don’t have evenings like this. He gets together with his friends without inviting me. I have nothing against him having a guys’ night. But it strikes me as odd that we don’t have mutual friends to go out with.

  “Earth to Hannah.” Xavier’s knee knocks into mine. I’m grateful for the layer of denim separating my skin from his, dulling the bolt of electricity coursing through my leg when his eyes meet mine.

  “Sorry, I’m here. And I’m enjoying myself.”

  “See? I promised you we’d achieve both business and pleasure objectives tonight.” He grins, and the pink in his cherubic cheeks intensifies.

  Beth points to my necklace. “Don’t forget what you’re wearing around your neck.” Her eyes crinkle with laughter.

  Everyone has matchmaking on their minds. And a part of me doesn’t hate Xavier and me attracting their attention. This is definitely the only glass of sangria I’m drinking tonight. I suspect even an extra ounce might lead to something I’d regret.

  CHAPTER 22

  All right. So, I didn’t quite stop at one glass of sangria. Somehow, I got sucked into the vibe of the evening, and the next thing I knew, it was midnight.

  Now I’m standing outside the restaurant with Xave, waiting for an Uber to take us home. Since we’ve had so much to drink, the plan is for me to borrow my grandmother’s car tomorrow and drop Xave back at his. The rest of the gang have already left, so it’s just the two of us. Jason was the last to take off, and his goodbye included a cheek kiss that ventured a little too close to my mouth. He also winked as he left, performing the gesture for ‘call me’ behind Xave’s back. I may be drunk, but I certainly do not plan on doing that.

  I am a little disappointed in myself for not having the willpower to go home earlier and finish my translating, but I don’t regret anything else about the night. It was nice, having two attractive men shower me with attention while I still maintained my integrity. Even though Xave got a little possessive of me around Jason, he’s been a complete gentleman and seems to have returned to his normal laid-back self now—albeit a little quieter than usual.

  “Thanks for introducing me to your friends,” I say.

  “No problem. You fit right in.”

  “That’s nice of you to say.”

  He fixes me with a gaze that makes my heart flutter. “It’s the truth.”

  Our Uber arrives before the conversation can go any further. We both climb into the back seat, and Xave looks out the window, seemingly lost in his own world.

  My brain churns with half-formed thoughts. I really should have stopped after that third sangria. Right now, my feelings toward Brett are complicated, and if Xave suddenly declared he wanted to explore something deeper…

  “Did you two just come from the gathering on the beach?” our driver asks.

  “Uh, no,” I answer. “What gathering was that?”

  “The annual transfo
rmation and rebirthing festival.”

  “Oh. I’m just visiting Noosa, so I wasn’t aware of any events taking place tonight.”

  The driver says, “I almost went, but I wasn’t sure it would be any good after they banned the use of animal blood last year.”

  Xave whips his head around and stares at me, eyes wide.

  “Is that so?” I ask, wondering if I should be worried by this conversation. The alcohol flowing through my veins seems to have numbed my fear receptors.

  “Yeah, some animal rights group got wind of it and petitioned the council. I don’t really see what the problem is, though. People kill animals for food all the time, and the blood just goes to waste. Why can’t we use a little of it?”

  “I guess there might be a health and safety issue?” I suggest.

  “You’re probably right. Still. Sometimes I wonder if this country has too many rules.”

  I figure if Australia wants to ban the use of animal blood in some kooky beach ritual, I’m totally fine with it.

  As we reach the edge of the shared driveway, the driver slows down. “Is here OK?”

  “Uh, could you drop us at my place?” Xave asks. “You’ll see the sign for the shelter I work at just up ahead.”

  “Sure.”

  Xave leans over and whispers in my ear. “I’ll keep him distracted long enough for you to get safely back to your grandmother’s.”

  “Are you sure?” I whisper back. I mean, I’m pretty sure our Uber driver isn’t a serial killer, but he is a little wacky.

  He nods, and the caring expression on his face triggers off another wave of conflicting emotions.

  Once at the shelter, I jump out of the car, shooting Xave a grateful look before I run across the yard to my grandmother’s house. I guess one upside of this whole incident was that I didn’t have to endure one of those awkward end-of-the-evening moments that are so common on a first date.

  Not that Xave and I were on a date. I’m proud of myself for remaining faithful.

  Even if the guy I’m remaining faithful to might not deserve it.

  ❅ ❅ ❅

  Three days later, my hangover is finally gone. The fundraiser is tomorrow, and I really should be dedicating my time to following up on any final details.

  But I now have only three days (excluding tomorrow) to translate twenty-eight pages, and even if they were completely empty days and I worked from the second I woke up until the moment I went to bed, I’d still be pushing it. Still, I have to at least try. The entire manual is due to go to the editor on Monday, and I’m just one of several translators who need to submit by the deadline. My schedule for today is extremely rigid, broken up into half-hour blocks crammed with essential tasks.

  First up is one hour of translation work before breakfast. And then I need to go over to the shelter and put in an hour’s assistance there. I had been absolutely useless the day after my sangria binge, only managing to complete Xena’s feedings and not much else. The scent of animals, combined with their food and waste, did not agree with my stomach. And I had too much of a headache to get much translating done.

  This is why you can’t have good things, Hannah. You go too far.

  Not that I really believed that. Back home, I very rarely went out, and when I did, I didn’t exactly write myself off. Tuesday was probably the biggest night I’ve had in about three years.

  I read the next phrase I’m supposed to translate into German and almost fall asleep on the spot. Does the problem happen when turning only to the left, only to the right, or in both directions?

  Did I ever enjoy this work? Why did I choose it again?

  The thought of cuddling Xena cuts short my efforts by twenty minutes. But I figure I’ll make it up later, once I’m feeling more at ease after I’ve checked on the fundraiser preparations.

  But when I reach the shed, I find Xave already there with my adopted pet. I’ve largely avoided the guy the last couple of days due to feeling ill and also wanting to steer clear of temptation until I resolved my feelings for Brett. I didn’t even have to take Xave back to his car after our night out, because Taara offered instead.

  “You want me to take over?” I ask.

  He looks up and smiles. “Are you up to it? You’ve fully recovered today?”

  I groan. “I am never drinking again.”

  He laughs. “I wonder how many times people actually say that and follow through.”

  “Right now, I mean it. Especially if by staying sober, I can drive myself home in the future.”

  “Oh, my god. That driver was insane, wasn’t he?”

  “Just a tad. Thank you for looking out for me. You know, I barely remember the rest of the night now.”

  “You were completely fine. I mean, you did try to lick my face at one point…”

  I stare at him in horror. “I didn’t!”

  He chuckles. “No, you didn’t. Sorry, I couldn’t resist teasing you. It was a great night, even if I did spend Wednesday with a raging hangover. I almost forgot to feed the cats.”

  “But you got the gift vouchers from Jason?” I check.

  His smile immediately disappears.

  “Seriously, Xave. You forgot again?”

  He practically throws Xena at me. “I’m getting in the car now and going to see him. I promise you’ll have them in an hour.”

  “But I need you to pick up the patio furniture our volunteers have donated. You’re the only one with a big enough truck.”

  “I’ll do it when I get back. I won’t be long.”

  I shake my head as he bolts off. I know he’s trying, but if he can’t remember a couple of simple things, how is he supposed to manage other responsibilities? What if he has kids in the future and has to pick them up from school or something? My brother Jonas tells me that even if you forget one time, your children never let it go. Apparently, Jurgen has PTSD from when it happened to him two years ago, and he continually reminds his father of the fact.

  And then I wonder why my brain went there, and why I should care. Xave seems to have managed his life pretty well up to this point. And it’s only going to hurt him if he doesn’t have a couple of prizes for tomorrow.

  But having Xave gone for an hour makes me feel like I need to pick up the slack, which completely ruins my schedule. Yet again, the translation work will have to be pushed aside.

  I’ll just have to stay up until midnight.

  ❅ ❅ ❅

  The rest of the morning is a flurry of activity. On top of the usual animal care, the shelter receives two new residents: a freshwater turtle and a baby kangaroo. Taara is busy checking them in and getting them cared for and settled while I start moving Xave’s chairs and tables out of the storage shed.

  Xave finally returns, holding two pieces of card in the air. “I always get there in the end,” he says, handing them over. I go back over to my grandmother’s house and tuck them safely inside my room with the other raffle prizes.

  My laptop stares at me accusingly. I still have a lot to do with the fundraiser, but I’ll have to work on a little more translation first.

  I’m preparing to type my first sentence when my phone rings. It’s the distinctive FaceTime ringtone, and when I look down, I see Jojo is calling me. I instantly feel bad that I haven’t messaged her for several days.

  I click the button that allows for a video chat and beam at her. “Hey! It’s great to see your lovely face. I miss you.”

  She smiles sadly. “I miss you, too. Your skin is glowing.”

  “It’s probably sunburn. It’s ridiculously hot here. But what’s wrong? Are you OK?”

  She takes a deep breath. “I really didn’t want to be the bearer of bad news twice in one week.”

  My heart sinks. “Tell me.”

  She scrunches up her face as if preparing for the onslaught. “I saw Brett with that girl again.”

  CHAPTER 23

  Argh!!! The lying mother—

  “That’s it. I’m through with him. There is nothing he c
an say to me, no promise he can make that will restore his trustworthiness. And if I can’t trust him, I certainly can’t love him or spend my life with him.”

  Jojo shakes her head sympathetically. “I wish you were here. I’m hugging you. Can you feel it?” She brings her phone to her chest. All I see are fuzzy bits of her green sweater.

  “Almost as good as the real thing. Did Brett notice you?”

  She hesitates. “Um, I tried to sneak away before he noticed me, but I failed. He was awkward AF when I waved at him. I ran home to tell you, and here we are.”

  “It sucks you had to be in such a horrible position. You did the right thing, though. I hate to do this to you, but I have a ton of work to do. I need to say goodbye. I’ll keep you up to date on the Brett front when I have news.”

  I shoot Brett a text, telling him to call me before he goes to sleep tonight. I imagine his face going slack as he reads my message while he’s out on a date with his other woman. The paranoia I might inflict on him at that exact moment is the least I can do right now.

  I should break up with him by text rather than by phone. I don’t want to listen to him apologizing or lying or making the case for why we should stay together. But breaking up by text is for cowards. And it won’t offer me the same sense of closure that him hearing my words and understanding my meaning would. I wish I could tell him in person. But I can’t leave our status unsettled until after I return to the States.

  He has ruined coming home for me, too. I’ll have to switch to another bank, not that avoiding him in one location eliminates the other places in my hometown where he could lurk.

  And then I have to consider my living situation. I love my family, but not so much to want to share a roof with them forever. Stripped of my plans to find a place with Brett, my temporary housing choice may not be as temporary as I had hoped.

  Being home right now wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world, though. My chest rises with a sigh. I wish I were sitting on the couch in our family room with my mom, sipping hot chocolate in front of the tree. Maybe I’d talk through my heartache with her, or perhaps we would ignore it altogether while listening to Christmas carols on the old stereo.