Ask Me to Stay (11 page)

Seat reclined, Cal eased his feet out the front seat window of his ute and crossed them at the shins. He listened to a Cold Chisel compilation to pass the time and thought about what needed doing at the bar. Gums lined the carpark perimeter, their branches burdened with droning, fussing crows and cockatoos. Loosened twigs fell onto his windshield and roof, soft clicks or louder clatters, and the birds’ banter pitched over his music.

He checked his watch again.

He’d considered waiting on the train platform, but he didn’t know what Olivia looked like anymore. Too many years had passed and they were as good as strangers now, which was enough to keep him in the car.

A train had come through the country station almost ten minutes ago but he hadn’t seen anyone disembark, so he figured she was on the next one, still barrelling towards him.

As she’d so often barrelled
, he thought; down hallways, through town, into his heart.

He reminisced about the adorably brazen things Olivia had said when they’d been kids, and the many, many times she and his sister Samantha had been in trouble for causing mischief. Damned if anyone had been able to determine the ringleader amongst the pair – most times they’d been as bad as each other.

Olivia Law – nicknamed Lawless by those who lived in Leonai – had been a constant source of excitement throughout Cal’s youth. He’d had a monster of a crush on her at one stage. He could still remember the sickening roll of hormones and nerves which had filled him each time she’d crept through his bedroom window to see Sam. And somehow fifteen years had passed. Sam was getting married to his best friend, Ethan; Olivia was travelling over from the other side of Australia, and Cal . . . Cal was sitting in a car waiting for Liv and wondering where the time had gone.

The last time he’d seen her she’d been sombre – her latest prank had been her and her family’s undoing, but prior to that night there had been many evenings of games and general mischief. She’d made the country exciting.

Would she again? Perhaps age had softened her.

A startling crash and Cal was lurching forward, knocking his knees as he tried to sit up and turn at once. Eyes wide, he looked through the back window of the ute in time to see an enormous suitcase topple into the tray. Standing by the back left wheel was a grinning redhead. Her wicked smile dragged him into the past, and he wondered how he’d ever forgotten that face. She touched her forehead in a cheeky salute then approached the passenger door.

Framed in the window, the woman pulled down her oversized sunglasses and he was once again struck by the green of her eyes. Faint freckles marked her alabaster skin and her hair – red as a blush – was cut short. She looked to his mind like a mischievous fairy; all long lines and sharp features, with a smile too big for her little face.

Her lips covered her teeth when her grin became a smirk. One eyebrow lifted. Through the glass she said, ‘When you’re done gawking, how’s about you let me in? Or am I riding in the back?’

He hastened to unlock the passenger door. She stepped back when he swung it wide, then lifted a long, toned leg onto the running board. Her denim shorts crept higher up her thighs as she hoisted herself into the cab. There was no time to welcome her, for she immediately slid close and folded her arms around his neck.

‘Hiya, Cal. Thanks for coming to get me. You’re a gentleman.’ Then she drew back and punched him in the arm. As she retreated back to her side of the cab she left behind the subtle scent of citrus. He recognised orange, with a faint twist of sherbet. ‘Here I was thinking I’d get a platform welcome, maybe a tiny flag with my name on it or something; but I guess a fine looking man does me just fine.’ She secured her seatbelt, pushed her sunglasses back in place and slapped her knees. ‘Let’s get this show on the road!’

Cal grinned, repositioned his seat and turned the key in the ignition. He turned the music off and they drove in silence for a little over a kilometre. He opened his mouth, but hesitated when he glanced over and saw her checking her iPhone. She locked the screen and dropped it in her lap, a look of discontent on her face.

He allowed a minute to pass, then, ‘How was the train trip?’

‘I sat opposite a guy with narcolepsy. No kidding, he’d be talking to me, chatting about his business and his family and what not, and then his lights would go out. The first time I freaked out.’ She rolled down the window and angled her chin at the autumn wind. ‘But after he explained it, I just started pulling out my book and reading until he woke up.’

Cal looked at her. ‘Are you serious?’

‘As a heart attack. I drew on his face the third time. Geez, Cal, I’m kidding. Crack a smile.’

He frowned out the window and rolled his shoulders. ‘Was there even a guy?’

‘Of course there was a guy. But I didn’t have a pen, did I?’

It was all coming back. The speed talking, the wild stories, the pranks. The boundless enthusiasm. He remembered now how often he’d wanted to shake her. The many times he’d feigned sleep when she’d broken in, or crossed the street when he’d seen her ahead. He hadn’t always had a crush on her – for the most part she’d just been his little sister’s best friend. As a kid, Livvy had been addictive yet exhausting. It seemed not a lot had changed.

She gazed out the window, and he wondered if she was aware that she was tapping her phone. ‘How many k’s to Leonai?’

‘One hundred and seven.’

The beat of stunned silence gave him a thrill of satisfaction.

‘Well, damn, Caleb.’ She turned her body to face him and propped her arm along the back of the seat. ‘You just better tell me your life story, then. With as many dramatic pauses as you like.’

And he did tell her. About his and Sam’s friend Bree dying last year and Ethan returning to town; about Cal’s closest friend and widow Dean finally learning the truth about his parents, a secret his brother Ethan had kept for many years. Cal told Olivia a little about how Ethan and Samantha had come to be, but he figured the girls had talked a lot about that, so he didn’t linger on that story.

He spoke about Dean’s kids Rowan and Nina the longest; they were always saying and doing the damndest things and they’d come such a long way in the year since they’d lost their mother, Bree. He adored them and he knew he was gushing – the corner of Olivia’s mouth was curved as she listened – but he didn’t care enough to stop.

Over an hour later, Olivia stretched her thin arms over her head the best she could in the small space. She yawned, shifted in her seat until she was comfortable, then pat him on the shoulder. ‘Thanks for the bio on your nearest and dearest. But don’t think I didn’t notice you hardly said a word about yourself.’

He flicked on the indicator and turned at the first corner in half an hour. What was there to say? He owned and operated a bar. He hadn’t had a meaningful relationship since his almost-fiancé, Anna, over a year ago. He lived alone and vicariously through his two best friends, Dean and Ethan.

Rather than bore her with such details, he redirected the spotlight. ‘You haven’t volunteered much about yourself, either. What’ve you been doing for the last decade and a half?’

She shrugged and turned her face to the passenger window. ‘Not a hell of a lot. I lived in Sydney for awhile, then my family and I followed the mining boom to Perth.’

He waited. Expansive farms and acreages rolled past, livestock adding interest to the hills and wooden fences. He checked his speed and slowed. ‘And?’

‘And what?’

Cagey
, he thought. So he narrowed his line of questioning. ‘Who’re you waiting to hear from, then?’ He nodded at the phone that had never left her lap. She wore nothing on her ring finger, so he said, ‘Boyfriend?’

Her fingers tightened around the little black device. ‘Just some fool. How about you? Someone making you climb the walls these days?’

‘Not that she’s around to know.’

‘She left you?’

‘She left everything about me.’

‘Thorough.’

He had to laugh. Clearly no sympathy or indignation was coming his way, so he moved on. ‘What do you do for pocket money?’

‘I’m a freelance copyeditor. Online columns, websites, etcetera.’

‘That’s great.’

She didn’t answer, bringing an unnatural stop to the conversation. He glanced at her. She was staring at her phone again.

‘Well, anyway,’ he said, ‘you tell that fool of yours to call me if you want him sorted out.’

She grinned and pushed his shoulder affectionately. ‘Still a white knight. Always jumping in front of people, always drawing your sword.’

‘I am not.’

She pushed air through her lips. ‘Please.’

He could tell she was recognising her surrounds when her attention lingered on memorable trees and rocky outcrops. Leonai was moving ever closer, and the gorgeous sunshine and the brush-stroke clouds seemed to be welcoming her home.

She said to the sky, ‘So Sam-I-Am’s getting married.’ A beat. ‘When did we get old, Caleb?’

‘Speak for yourself.’

She smiled wickedly. ‘Right. I’m old. You’re a geriatric.’

‘I’ve only got a year on you, Grandma.’

‘And I intend to make each one of them count. That’s why I’m getting out of Dodge.’ Without explaining that comment, she said, ‘Has she picked out her dress yet? She hasn’t picked out mine, that much I know. Has she got a colour scheme? Or a photography package?’

They passed a weathered sign on the left side of the road, welcoming them to Leonai, population 216. Cal said, ‘I doubt it. That’s why you’re here, I reckon. Honestly, I’m surprised you came so early – they haven’t even set a date.’

‘Well, they’ve got a week.’

‘You’re optimistic.’ He drove over hundreds of yellow, red and orange leaves littering the road. ‘What will you do at the end of the week if they’re not hitched?’

‘Knock on the church door and ask the minister if he or she has lunch plans.’

He laughed. ‘Right.’

‘Watch me.’

‘It’ll be more interesting to watch Sam – she’s the one dragging the chain. And I don’t reckon she’d fancy getting married on her lunch break.’

Liv grinned. ‘I think she’d love it. It’s low key. There are bridezillas, regular brides, laid-back brides, and then there’s Samantha. She gets her own damn category.’

‘Well, that’s true.’ He turned into the road that would lead them to Sam and Ethan’s place, and felt a little sorry that the time had passed so quickly. ‘Between you and the seven year old, you’ll have vows exchanged within days, I’m sure.’

‘Sam told me Ethan asked Nina to be a flowergirl. That’s so cute.’

‘She’s going to show you up, you know.’

Liv chuckled. ‘Sam raves about Nina. Going off the things I hear, that kid’s going to show us all up.’

Cal agreed. He’d never met a child more endearing, more spectacular, than Dean’s Nina. No one stood a chance against her charm – earning a smile from that girl was like Christmas morning.

The car rolled to a stop in front of a charming farmhouse. Potted colour hung from baskets around the porch and the red brick pathway had been recently weeded and swept. There was a new mat at the foot of the front door, declaring them welcome, and two wooden ducks wearing boots occupied a corner of the single porch step. Soft music carried on the breeze from the chimes Ethan had made for Sam, and the picture of domestic bliss was complete.

Liv whistled at it. ‘Gorgeous.’

‘Yeah.’ Leaning over the steering wheel, Cal scanned the grass surrounding the house.

She followed his gaze. ‘What?’

He leaned back. ‘Okay. What we’re going to do, is we’re going to run.’

‘Run?’

‘I’ll come back for your bag. We’re going to get out of the ute real quiet, then I’m going to push the horn, all right? Go straight inside. Start pulling your shoes off when you reach the porch, but keep going.’

‘What on earth—’

‘They’ve kind of got a guard dog.’ He turned off the ignition and reached for the door. ‘I mean it, move fast. This white knight won’t come back for you.’

‘Nice.’ But she opened and closed the passenger door with as little noise as possible. She was rounding the hood when their party of two became three.

An enormous white goose stepped out from behind a shrub, inordinately big and notoriously nasty. It shook its wings and lowered its long neck.

Cal swore.

He didn’t look at her when she said, ‘You’ve got to be kidding me,’ because the bird demanded his full attention. The wings went up, the torso stretched, and the little monster began to charge. The sound it made was part trumpet, part shriek, and it bled into the marrow of Cal’s bones. He banged his fist on the horn – once, twice, three times – then ran. Behind him, Liv screamed. She was close on his heels when he thundered across the porch. There were two thumps, another yelp and an indignant honk before the front door opened. Cal kicked his shoes off – they shot over the threshold – and he was mere moments behind. Sam stood out of the way as the pair barrelled inside, and slammed the door so closely behind them that she almost clipped Liv’s shoulder.

Then normality resumed. Cal bent at the waist, collected his thongs and tossed them onto the shoe rack. He straightened and high-fived his sister.

Samantha grinned at him – in an instant thanking him for giving up his time today – then turned to face her oldest and dearest friend. ‘Livvy!’

Both women dissolved into giggling, shrieking girls. They bounced on the spot then fell into each other’s arms. When they disentangled themselves, panting from the effort of reuniting, he made a show of rubbing an ear. They laughed and shook their heads, clearly thinking a man could never understand such a moment.

He was inclined to agree.

Liv seized Sam’s wrist. ‘That bit of poultry out there tried to kill us!’

Sam was beaming. She waved her free hand through the air. ‘Boo? You’ll be fine so long as you stay on your feet. He’s great at keeping my mum away, though, let me tell you.’

Cal said, ‘I didn’t hear that.’

‘Hear what? Anyway, I’m so glad you’re here. When Boo wanders off we’ll get your bag and get you settled. How about some tea?’