Winter in Mason Valley

by Eliza Bennetts

  He drained the coffee from the plastic cup and followed Pete out onto the factory floor. Travis supposed that to an outsider, his life, and now Pete’s, might seem banal and pedestrian—they worked hard, made mediocre money and loved their families—but Travis was extremely proud of the life he’d created. There was no amount of excitement or adventure that could convince him that a bigger life would be preferable to the one he’d created.

  Dee looked at the spreadsheets again. She cringed as she took in the bright red numbers in the distribution tab. There had to be a way to keep those costs down. The freight charges were exorbitant, and Dee had begun to fear that if she didn’t manage to get the issue under control, the business would suffer to the point where it would become insolvent.

  She appealed to Vince for help.

  ‘We need to fix this distribution problem,’ she said to him. He was sitting at his computer clicking away at … something.

  He turned to look at her. ‘What are you thinking?’

  ‘Well, we’re haemorrhaging money in that area. It’s ridiculous. Do you have the invoices from the logistics company? I’d like to see the breakdown.’

  Vince smiled and waved a lazy hand in the direction of his filing cabinet. ‘They’re in there somewhere,’ he said. ‘I think we do need to have a brainstorming session. Maybe over dinner?’

  His eyes grew wide, a mixture of fear and hope circling in them.

  Dee winced. An uneasy feeling rose in her gut. She could only assume it was awkwardness. Being asked out by the man she worked with all day was strange, but more than that, she didn’t want to insult Vince or hurt his feelings by saying no. She needed things at work to be easy and smooth, and rejecting Vince out of hand could work against that end.

  She smiled and bided her time by asking him where he was thinking they could go.

  ‘Ah, we could go to The Hill Above again, or The Valley Inn. That’s the local pub.’

  Dee thought about what it would be like to go on a real date with Vince. That uneasy feeling lingered, but she tried to ignore it. She needed to think through her options. If she said no, it could serve to cut Vince off at the pass, to make sure he knew where the boundaries lay. If she said yes, it could give him the wrong idea, but at least they’d avoid the awkwardness a flat rejection might bring. She decided to hedge her bets, accept the date as it was offered—an opportunity for a business discussion.

  ‘Yes, I would like to discuss the plans, but I will pay. I can either put it though as an expense or claim it on tax,’ she said.

  The light in Vince’s eyes dulled and Dee knew that she’d shattered his hopes. She didn’t know what Vince was hoping to get out of taking her to dinner, but she was pretty sure he wanted to build something beyond a friendly co-working relationship. She didn’t want to date Vince. In fact, she didn’t want to date, period. Now was not the time to focus on her personal life. She still had so much she wanted to achieve in her career. So much she wanted to prove to herself and her parents. Dating and a relationship didn’t make an appearance on her to-do list.

  ‘I think we should just go to the pub,’ she said, adding a smile to cushion the idea that she didn’t want to go anywhere fancy.

  ‘You sure? The pub can get pretty rowdy on a Friday night. After work drinks and all.’

  Dee shrugged. ‘Well, we can drink with the locals. In fact, I think it might be good for me to get to know some of the staff on a more personal level. It’ll help build relationships and I think I need to do a little relationship-building given that my first day was a disaster. And I haven’t had a chance to get out there and talk to the floor staff since.’

  Vince nodded. It was a slow, uncertain nod. One that told Dee the conversation was veering too far away from the original intention. Dee felt bad for a quarter of a nano-second and then she got over it. Ol’ Vincy-boy would just need to deal with it.

  The lure of a cold gin and tonic at the pub was the only thing that got Dee through the last hour and a half of work. She was tired and annoyed. Vince had gone out to the factory and hadn’t bothered to get the files she’d asked for. By three o’clock, she’d grown frustrated and had taken it upon herself to rummage in the cabinet. The results were limited. She found one old invoice from two and a half years earlier, but there was little else she could use to assess the breakdown of the distribution costs. She wondered if she should broach the topic of the importance of recordkeeping with Vince, but she decided against it. He had his spreadsheet, and it was possible the invoices didn’t even stay with him. They might get sent to head office, or perhaps he scanned them and kept them on file. She settled on asking him to walk her through the process, and then she’d reflect on his practice.

  At four o’clock, having seen no sign of Vince, she decided to call head office and speak to accounts payable. No one was available, so she left a message to speak to someone called Maria, and it was around that time that she decided to call it a day. She gathered her things, slipped on her overcoat and made for the factory. She couldn’t wait any longer. Her first week was done and she need to celebrate with a big fat drink.

  The day shift had ended at around three, so there were only a few workers dotted about, tying up loose ends, she supposed. She found Vince in the loading bay, smoking a cigarette and talking to a driver.

  Dee froze mid-stride, her eyes widening in shock, then narrowing with suspicion. Smoking was absolutely forbidden, not only on the factory floor, but across the entire site. Also, the last dispatch should have left around lunchtime. Even if this driver stubbed out his smoke, got in the truck and pulled out straight away, there was no way he’d make it to Melbourne before five. Dee moved closer, knowing that she’d need to address both issues. She just wasn’t sure which would be first.

  The smoking, definitely the smoking.

  The sound of her high-heels on the concrete alerted both men to her approach and they looked in her direction.

  ‘Gentlemen,’ she bit out.

  Vince was the first to act. He stood tall, his face awash with guilt as he franticly mashed the cigarette butt under his foot. The driver followed suit, his movement towards his truck hurried and frantic as he attempted to get in and pull away before Dee was upon them.

  Vince was opening his mouth to speak, but she jumped on him first. ‘You should not be smoking on the property, Vince. You know that. It’s a huge safety risk.’

  The driver, who hadn’t been quite quick enough in his retreat, sniggered.

  ‘And you,’ she said, speaking over Vince’s shoulder. ‘You shouldn’t be here. How on earth to you propose getting this load to Melbourne before five when it’s already after four?’

  The driver sniggered again, and Dee, having had quite enough of the smoking and sniggering driver, had to fight the intense urge to promptly smack the smirk right off the jerk’s pathetic face.

  ‘Ease up, love,’ he ground out. ‘This load’s not for bloody Melbourne. It’s going to Adelaide. An overnight run.’

  Dee felt her face grow warm. Damn, why hadn’t she thought about that? Now she looked foolish and was mad, a bad combination.

  ‘Still,’ she pressed on. ‘You most certainly should not be smoking in here, and you’re paid an exorbitant fee by this company to haul paper. I suggest that’s what you do.’

  ‘Thank for your input, Business Barbie. Maybe try and get your facts straight next time, eh, love?’

  Dee felt the blood in her neck and chest grow hotter still and she clenched her teeth together. She was winding up, getting ready to blow, brewing every combative word she knew, mixing them in her mind the way a conjurer brews a spell.

  She was about to let fly when another voice rode in over all of them. It was deep, loud and assertive, and it made her jump. She turned to see Travis. Muscular, imposing, high-vis-workwear-clad Travis. For a fleeting moment, Dee hated herself for banning the tank tops.

  ‘You heard the boss, Brian,’ Travis said. ‘Get going. But mate, before you do, why don’t you share w
ith us the genius thinking that goes into deciding to light up a smoke in a bloody paper factory?’

  The comment was directed at Brian, the truck driver, but Travis was looking right at Vince. Dee thought she saw a look pass between the two of them. If she had blinked, she might have missed it, but it was there, as unmissable as a red light, and it suggested there could well be a history between the two, a history that extended well beyond this moment and this cigarette.

  Dee pushed her observation to the back of her mind and focused on the more pressing issue of the still-lingering truck driver. Clearly, he wanted the last word, but she wasn’t going to wait for his inferior mind to come up with something.

  ‘Move it, Chachi!’ she cried.

  The driver’s expression of contempt remained, but he scrambled into the cab of his truck and started the engine.

  Travis stayed for a moment, perhaps watching to make sure Brian did as he was told. The lightest trace of a smirk haunted his face, and for the first time since she’d met him, Dee felt as though she might be able to like Travis.

  Or at least, not actively dislike him.

  When Brian had gone, Travis wandered off too. Vince moved towards her, his mouth full of excuses.

  She held up hand. ‘Vince, not now. It’s Friday night and I need a drink. A really big drink.’

  10

  By the time Travis had worked his ute along the drive that led to his mother’s house, he’d pretty much heard Annie’s day recounted minute by minute—from the cinnamon toast that Dee had made her in the morning, to the cocoon she’d spotted on the walk home with Mrs Potts.

  Poor old Doreen Potts. It didn’t sound like she’d offered Annie much in the way of enthusiasm about the discovery. She’d simply pulled Annie along and, according to Annie, had mumbled something about getting home in time for The Bold and the Beautiful.

  ‘I can’t believe that show’s still going,’ Travis mused aloud.

  ‘Yep,’ Annie said, as if she knew, as if she watched it.

  ‘Your grandma used to watch that show when I was your age. There was a guy in it, he had a real weird name.’

  ‘Ridge,’ Annie said solemnly.

  ‘That’s right. It was Ridge. What a stupid name.’

  ‘He’s still on the show,’ Annie said.

  ‘No way! He can’t be. That dude would have to be a hundred years old.’

  Annie nodded. ‘Yep.’

  Travis laughed. ‘Let me guess. Your grandmother lets you watch it.’

  ‘She does. We like Brooke.’

  ‘Why can’t she pass something good down the line, like the recipe for her chicken pie or her ability to read minds? I mean, The Bold and the Beautiful for shit’s sake.’

  ‘Dad! That’s the actual worst word you can say,’ she whispered.

  Travis cocked a brow. ‘You think? Your grandma teach you that too, did she?’

  ‘Er, no. Every single person on the planet knows the sh-word is the worst one you can say, and you just said it. In front of me.’

  Travis smiled. He couldn’t help it. ‘You giving me parenting lessons now, baby girl?’

  Annie didn’t answer the question. Instead, she shrieked as a golden retriever bounded out of his mother’s house and headed straight for the car.

  ‘What the hell!’ Travis exclaimed as he slammed on the brakes.

  ‘That’s the second worst word!’

  The dog, who clearly had no real sense of impending danger, continued to bound towards the ute. Once he’d come to a complete stop and the handbrake was on, Travis leapt from the driver’s seat. His mother lingered on the porch.

  ‘I see you’ve met Toby,’ she called.

  Travis found the dog scratching at the passenger door, perhaps already sensing that a devoted friend was on the other side. Annie was beaming, which was great to see, truly, but …

  ‘Mum, did you get a dog?’

  His mother, still a brunette beauty despite her age, smiled. ‘You’ve always been a perceptive one, Travis. What gave it away?’

  Travis ignored the dig. ‘You went and bought a dog? Mum, dogs are a lot of work.’

  The dog, Toby, chose that exact moment to bound towards Travis and lavish him with heavy-pawed attention.

  ‘Hey boy,’ he breathed, smiling despite himself. ‘Mum, dogs are a lot of work.’

  Dianne Parker folded her arms over her chest. ‘Well, thank you, Travis. I never would have known that!’ she cried, her tone heavily laden with a large helping of sarcasm. ‘I know dogs, puppies in particular, are a lot of work, but I needed some joy.’

  Pain sliced through Travis’s chest like he’d been staked.

  She needed some joy. That’s right, his mother did need some joy in her life, and the reason for that was …

  Travis swallowed against a throat that tightened relentlessly the way it always did when he thought about his mother dying.

  As if sensing his pain, she gave him a kind and knowing smile, then nodded towards the truck where Annie sat beaming, eager as could be but not game enough to get out, and with good reason. Toby was big and rambunctious. One excited jump from him would send Annie flying.

  Travis shook his head. He’d have to get Annie out eventually. She was spending the night at his mother’s and he didn’t think he could delay the meeting of Toby and Annie for a moment longer. The enthusiasm was too great—on both ends.

  When he opened the door of his ute and reached out his hands, Annie fell into them. Her focus was clear—she only had eyes for the bloody dog. Trav rolled his eyes as he tried to assist Annie. Her excitement at meeting the dog was laced with trepidation and she urged her little body forward while her hands gripped his forearms. Toby was no help; he cavorted and leapt and chased his tail. The mutt was excited, that much was clear, but it was acting like a total moron.

  ‘Stupid dog,’ Trav breathed.

  Annie looked up at him, horrified. ‘He’s not stupid, Dad. He just doesn’t know what he’s doing. He’s learning.’

  ‘That’s right. He is still learning, Annie. Daddy needs to be more patient, doesn’t he?’ His mother winked at him and Travis shook his head yet again. Somehow, whenever she and Annie were together, it felt like they were ganging up on him and he always felt like the third wheel. From the day Annie was born, there’d been an unbreakable bond between her and his mother, a connection that was difficult to define or describe, but it was undeniable, and even though it made Travis equal parts frustrated and proud, he knew that bond would hurt his baby all the more when the dreaded day came.

  Travis watched on as Annie and Toby discovered each other. For the most part, Toby was writhing and jumping, while Annie was stoically trying to pat him despite not managing more than one stroke of his coat before he started up with another maniac dance.

  Even though Travis thought the dog was one of the most daft living creatures he’d ever come across, he couldn’t help smiling at the sight of him with Annie.

  Dianne looked smug and happy, and if Toby was having that effect on the two precious women in his life, then he was a good dog. Travis did have to wonder at his mother’s motive for getting the dog in the first place. He couldn’t help but suspect that she’d been thinking ahead, making sure there were things in play that might fill the gap she’d soon leave behind. He loved his mother all the more for trying, but he really wished she’d realise that no one, no animal or human, could ever take her place.

  Dee squinted up at the top shelf. She wanted to shout herself a decent drink to celebrate surviving her first full week on the job. No one had died—well, she almost had from embarrassment, but no one else had even come close. She’d made some changes in the front office and was working on the situation with the distribution problems. At the very least, she had a plan to make a plan, and that was a good start.

  She’d left her car at Travis’s house and had noted that both he and Annie were out. Not that it mattered, not that it was any of her business. It’d just been strange to come back to the hou
se and find no one there.

  Dee had decided to walk to the pub, not because she wanted to get wasted, but because the pub was close and if she did decide to have more than one drink, she’d be covered.

  Her gaze flicked over each of the glass bottles until she saw the one she wanted. The gin and tonic she’d planned on just didn’t seem sufficient for her needs.

  ‘I’ll have a Johnnie Walker Black with dry,’ she told the bartender.

  The middle-aged man gave her a swift nod and then got to work preparing her drink. The guy didn’t seem up for a chat. For one thing, he didn’t seem the chatting type, but also, the bar was filling up. A steady stream of locals entered at intervals as Dee perched on a bar stool, keen to commence a bit of people watching while she sipped on her drink.

  The strangers all seemed pretty casual. Most wore jeans with t-shirts or jumpers; no one wore anything remotely like the leather pants and white shirt she had on. She recognised some of the patrons as workers from the factory, and she nodded and smiled at them. Most of them reciprocated, but none bothered to join her. Instead, they clustered together in groups. Dee paid for her drink and took a small sip.

  There were very few times in her life when she’d felt lonely, though being alone was not foreign to her. She’d lived alone for years, and she’d always flown solo when she travelled, but right now, she felt not just alone, but lonely.

  It was as if she were the girl not invited to the party, or not allowed to sit at the table with the cool kids or something. She knew she was over analysing, but she couldn’t shake the feeling of being an outsider, and she really wasn’t sure why she should care. Was being considered “one of them”, one of the Mason Valley residents, really that important to her? No, no it wasn’t. The only important thing was getting results at the factory and proving to her family that she had what it took to be a success.