by Sandy Barker
Melbourne is awesome, thought Jules.
At every turn of the river—and the Yarra was quite twisty—the city revealed something new. Jules smiled to herself, her eyes absorbing each little detail—the way the Botanical Gardens on the far shore hugged the river, the varying architectural styles of the city’s skyline, the buzz and energy of it all. This city was alive.
As they approached the bridge they’d cross to turn around, she watched a team of rowers lifting their oars out of the water in perfect sync while a cox shouted commands from the front of the eight-person scull. Closer to shore, a family of swans paddled about, the cygnets awkward teenagers with fluffy grey down.
She’d only been there a few days, but Jules was already starting to fall in love with Melbourne. No wonder Chloe went on and on about it all the time. There was a lot to brag about.
*
“Oh, my god, it feels good to sit down.”
“I’ll drink to that.” Ash reached along the length of the couch and tapped her glass against Jules’s. “Worth it, though. Those cookies look divine.”
“And you only stole, like, what? Three, or was it four?” teased Jules.
“It was five. And I’m feeling it now. Sugar crash.”
“Hey, thanks for helping with the gift for Thea and Callie.”
“No worries. You had all that baking to do.”
“True, but you dressed the ham and cleaned the apartment.” The already spotless apartment was now immaculate.
“Yeah, but still. The present thing was easy—I knew exactly where I was going, and I was in and out in under twenty minutes. It’s a really nice idea. I wish I’d thought of it.”
“Well, we’ll make sure to toast them tomorrow—make it extra special.”
“With my favourite bubbles!”
“Exactly. These aren’t bad either.” Jules had another sip from her glass.
“Haven’t you heard? We don’t make bad wine in Australia.”
“I am sure that’s almost true.” Ash flashed her a grin. “So, what else did you want to get done tonight?”
Ash jumped up, and Jules wondered at her seemingly boundless energy. “Let me just get the list.”
“Ah, yes, the list!” Jules had never really seen the appeal, something that Chloe—and even Lucy—found frustrating about her when they travelled together. Mostly because she’d invariably forget something and they would end up scouring a tiny town in Italy for a phone charger, or flipflops for her size-ten feet, and one time, a DIY bikini-wax kit.
According to Chloe, the waxing kit was only necessary because Jules hadn’t written a pre-departure list, so had forgotten to get her bikini line in order ahead of time. Jules had conceded that one.
“Right!” Ash plopped down on the couch, took her glass off the table for a generous swig, then proceeded to mumble her way through a list of things that were already done. Jules watched, amused.
How had her family got through Christmas all these years without planning? She drank more sparkling wine, starting to get a little impatient for Ash to tally up the still-to-do items.
“We should probably iron the tablecloth and the napkins and set the table.” Jules scrunched her nose. “Yeah, you’re right. To hell with it, we’ll do it tomorrow. Or we’ll wait ’til the others get here and they can do it.” Jules doubted very much that Ash was the kind of hostess who let her guests set the table, and she resigned herself to ironing table linens on Christmas morning. Still, it was better than doing it now.
“Hey, I’ve been meaning to ask … your friendship group, the orphans. They’re all your college friends, right?” she asked Ash. “I mean, I know you and Chloe met at college, but where do the others fit in?”
“Oh, well, only Callie, Matt, Chloe, and I went to uni together. We did a lot of the same first-year classes—intro to marketing, that sort of thing. And Chloe and I moved in together in second year. We had this dumpy little flat in North Carlton,” she explained, as though the suburb name meant anything to Jules.
“But it was cool, you know, to have our own place. Callie crashed on the couch more often than she slept at home.” Ash laughed, the mirth in her eyes revealing the memories playing in her mind. “Anyway, we were a firm foursome that first couple of years, then Matt made other friends—guys—so we didn’t see him as much. Well, Chloe did; they always stayed close.” Jules wasn’t sure how to read that … or what she thought of it.
“And Thea? How long have she and Callie been together?”
“I’d say … uh, three or four years. Yeah, that’s about right. I loved Thea right away. Such a good match for Callie. You met them yesterday, right?”
“Yeah, they’re really cool.” So was their beachside condo. Jules had been a little envious of their water views.
“And what about David? Where does he fit in?” Jules asked.
“Dav-o,” Ash corrected.
“Do I really have to call him that?”
“It’s his name.” Jules rolled her eyes. It was one thing to shorten someone’s name to one syllable, like she sometimes did with Luce and Chlo—or like Ashley to Ash—but why add the O? “And anyway,” added Ash, “Davo isn’t short for David. It’s short for Davidson—his last name.”
“So, what’s his first name?”
“Kenneth.” Kind of old fashioned. Jules could see why he preferred a nickname. “And when you meet him, you’ll see, he’s all Davo and definitely not a Kenneth.”
“Okay, so tell me about Davo.”
Ash dropped the list onto the table and took another sip before answering. “Well—and I’m surprised Chloe didn’t mention this—but I guess the big thing is that he’s my ex.”
Jules must have done a crappy job of hiding her surprise because Ash laughed. “Yeah, it’s probably a little weird that we still hang out together, but mostly it’s okay.”
“No, no, sorry. It’s not as weird as you might think.” Jules filled Ash in on her parental situation.
“And everyone’s fine with it?”
“For the most part. I mean, sometimes I can tell it’s not great for my dad, but he’s a good sport.”
“Does he have someone?”
“No, not right now. He did bring someone to Christmas a couple of years ago—Paula—but that did not go well.”
“Why’s that?”
“She was … I don’t know.” Jules puffed out a sigh. “Actually, I do. She was okay, nothing special, and definitely not good enough for my dad, who is like the best guy in the world, but all that aside, she was only a few years older than me.”
“Ergh …” Ash made a face that cracked Jules up.
“Yeah. Anyway, it was a little tense all around and they ended up driving back to Boulder on Christmas night. They broke up not long after.”
“Well, I hope tomorrow won’t be anything like that.”
“You hope?”
“There’s something wrong with my glass,” said Ash brightly, holding her empty glass aloft, obviously deflecting. She jumped up and retrieved the bottle from the fridge. Jules held out her glass for a top-up and Ash poured it carefully, making sure it didn’t froth over the rim.
Jules only had one more question and then she’d let it lie. “So, how long ago did you two break up?”
Ash, back in her spot on the couch, frowned. “Um, about eight months ago?” She posed it as a question and Jules frowned.
Okay, now she only had one more question. “And how long were you together?”
“Five years.” Whoa. Five years might as well have been forever. In the past decade, Jules’s longest relationship—if you could even call it that—had lasted about five weeks. Jules watched Ash pick at her sweatpants, removing some non-existent lint, and something occurred to her.
“And does the breakup have anything to do with the ‘I’m a bitch’ comment?” Ash was anything but a bitch, but someone had planted that seed.
Ash’s head nodded slightly. “It was a fight … the one where we broke up. He calle
d me a selfish bitch,” she said quietly. “He’d got offered the use of this holiday house up north for a long weekend, but I had this work event … Anyway, things had been kinda stale between us and he really wanted us to go away together … Look, I know he didn’t mean it; he apologised straight away, but …”
“It stuck.” Jules knew exactly how a word could be hurled at you, even just one time, and embed itself and grow. “Slut” had been that word for her. Apparently, losing your virginity to a boy you thought you loved, a boy with a big mouth and an even bigger ego, was enough to earn that disgusting moniker. She shoved the thought down deep where it lived.
“Ash?” She looked up and Jules saw the glisten of tears in her eyes. “Oh, Ash.” She was down the other end of the couch in a flash, one arm wrapped tightly around her new friend’s shoulders and her chin resting on Ash’s head. She heard quiet sniffles.
“I miss him so much, Jules. It was just a stupid fight and we should never have broken up, but it’s been months now and …” Ash’s words were swallowed up with tears.
Jules patted Ash’s arm, not knowing what else to do. This was already turning out to be the most dramatic Christmas she could remember—and that included the one with Paula.
*
“Um, hey, don’t take this the wrong way, but is that what you’re wearing for Christmas lunch?”
Jules, freshly showered and made up, looked down at her crisp white cotton top and pale pink shorts. “Yeah, I was, why?” She thought she looked nice, certainly nicer than if she was at home for Christmas.
Ash was standing in the kitchen, having just cleaned it for the millionth time. The salads were made, all three of them a huge step-up from the salads of shredded iceberg lettuce, cucumber rings, and anaemic tomatoes she’d grown up with. One was a Christmas salad with raspberries, strawberries, dates, and walnuts on a bed of greens; it looked amazing. There was also a giant platter of shrimp—“prawns”, as the Aussie called them—and lemon wedges in the fridge, and the ham was glazing in the oven. Jules had happily done Ash’s bidding for most of the morning fuelled by sparkling wine and Christmas cookies.
Even the table was set.
It looked beautiful—white tablecloth and napkins, ironed to perfection; Ash’s good dinnerware—also white; Riedel wine glasses—sparkling, white, and red; water glasses; Chloe’s good silverware; and as many blue decorations and candles as there probably were in all of Australia, including a centrepiece of a tall glass vase filled with tiny glass ornaments—also blue.
There were these things at every place setting called crackers, long tubes with ribbons on either end, decorated in silver and blue. Ash said they were traditional, but traditional where? As beautiful as everything was, there was nothing traditional about this Christmas.
No ceramic dishes shaped like Santa brimming with red and green M&Ms, no Christmas stockings in all shapes and sizes hanging from the fireplace, no fireplace, no bedraggled tree cut down by the menfolk and dragged inside, then decorated as though by a kindergarten class. No snow.
No, this Christmas was anything but traditional. It was perfect.
“Oh,” Jules said, finally realising. Her eyes flew back to the ornate table. “It’s formal.”
“Yeah, sorry, I don’t mean to be a bi— Um … a cow or anything …” Ash trailed off.
“No! Oh, my god. That’s on me. I totally flaked is all. I mean, at home we just wear jeans and sweaters. I even wear my Uggs.” She saw Ash cringe and laughed. “So, you dress up here?”
“Yep.”
“Is that, like, everyone?”
“You mean in the whole country?”
“Yeah.”
Ash shrugged. “Not everyone, but yeah, it’s kind of a thing. For us anyway.”
“Okay, so what are you wearing?”
Ash hung the dishcloth on its hook and grinned. “I’ll show you.”
*
The guests were due at 12:30pm but Ash, dressed in an elegant silk sheath dress, didn’t seem surprised when they heard the buzzer just after twelve. “That will be the girls. They’re always early.” She picked up the handset and peered into the tiny grey screen. “Happy Christmas!”
A muffled chorus of “Happy Christmas” bleated through the speaker. Ash hung up and surveyed the room as though daring a throw pillow to be out of place. When it occurred to Jules that Matt would be with Callie and Thea, her breath caught.
Something had shifted between them that day at the beach.
She looked down at her strappy silver heels and satin dress in ice blue. She’d brought the outfit in case they went out somewhere, like to a club, and although Ash had reassured her a dozen times, she felt way overdressed for daytime.
The front door to the apartment opened and in spilled Callie and Thea followed by Matt, who was laden with gift bags and wrapped presents. Thea held a giant cheese board, wrapped in plastic wrap and she seemed relieved when she put it on the counter.
They all exchanged hugs and kisses and Christmas wishes while Jules hung back. Then Callie shone her attention on Jules. “Oh, Jules! You look stunning! Stunn-ing! I love that dress! Happy Christmas!” Callie, who was at least a foot shorter than her in heels, somehow managed to wrap her up in a huge hug and all her shyness at being an interloper in their Christmas dissolved.
Callie stepped back. “We’re so glad you’re here. Don’t you just fucking love Christmas?”
Jules grinned back at her, riding the wave of Callie’s enthusiasm. “I do! I love it. Merry Christmas, by the way.”
Thea gave her a kiss on the cheek, less effusive, but just as warm as Callie, and they exchanged more Christmas greetings. Then there was no avoiding the obvious—she and Matt were next.
Her stomach fluttered as she met his eyes then quickly scanned him from head to toe.
When she’d first seen him a few days ago, she’d thought he was hot, but a little scruffier than the guys she usually went for. But this Matt … he was gorgeous. He was wearing a dark blue slim-cut suit, with a pale blue dress shirt—no tie—and his belt and shoes were the same deep brown. He was clean shaven, and his dimples punctuated a very sexy smile.
Jules could have sworn that the others were watching. When she glanced at Ash, she, Callie and Thea suddenly became very busy in the kitchen. “Merry Christmas,” he said.
“Merry Christmas.” Neither moved.
She saw him take in her outfit appreciatively and she silently thanked Ash. “You look beautiful.”
“Thank you. You too.”
“People will think we coordinated, though.” She cocked her head to the side, not knowing what he meant. He tugged lightly at his collar, and she realised that his shirt and her dress were the same colour.
“Ah, yes. I hate when you go to a party and someone is wearing the same outfit as you,” she said, smiling.
“Embarrassing.”
“Mmm.” She raised her eyebrows. “Even more embarrassing is that we both match the Christmas tree.”
She nodded in its direction and Matt threw his head back and laughed. “I didn’t even think of that.”
Jules held her hands out and shrugged. “What are you gonna do? This is the only formal dress I brought with me. For some reason, I had it in my head that an Aussie Christmas would be, like, super casual.”
“Nah, we like to put on a good show, you know?” Another expression to tuck up her sleeve. “It’s an incredible dress, by the way.”
“Thank you … again.” Flutter, flutter, flutter.
Then he stepped closer, leant down and kissed her cheek, his lips lingering just a little longer than a friendly peck. “We’ll have to get some pics together later,” he said, his face still close to hers. “For Chlo.”
She could only nod in reply and the flutter turned into full-on butterflies. God, he was sexy.
She heard the pop of sparkling wine, then Callie called out, “Hooray,” and the moment ended. Matt put himself on bartending duty, as he called it, and Jules went back to feeling
a little removed from everything as she watched the friends move with ease around the kitchen.
Within minutes, they were all seated in the living room, each with a glass of bubbles and the impressive cheese platter dominating the coffee table between them. She caught Ash watching the clock. Davo was late—only by seven minutes, but Jules could see the nerves beneath Ash’s hostess-with-the-mostest façade.
“So,” said Callie as she cut into a rich, oozing brie, “What have you been up to since we saw you the other day?”
“Not much. Just getting ready for Christmas.”
“Please don’t say that Ash’s kept you here captive?” Thea threw Ash a look.
Ash blinked a couple of times, as though snapping out of a daydream. “What? No! She wanted to help.”
“I did. It’s been great.”
“And how else do you think all this happens?” Ash waved her arms about to encompass the apartment.
Callie stepped in, “It looks amazing, guys, honestly. That table! You’ve definitely outdone our Christmas from last year.”
Within minutes of meeting her, Jules had crowned Callie as the most enthusiastic person she’d ever met—and that said a lot considering her Aunt Jackie and her side of the family. Callie was also the most genuine, her effusiveness anything but a pretension.
She’d made quite the impression on Jules with her obvious love of life and how she found joy in the minutiae. And, as Ash had said, she and Thea were such a good fit. Thea had a gentleness to her, a willingness to let Callie shine, to take the lead, but Jules sensed that Thea was the tether in their relationship.
Did she need a tether or a kite?
Jules had felt mired in a sort of middling state for so long, she didn’t know what would shake her free from it. And maybe she’d been kidding herself thinking it was all about her job.
She did need to find something else—and soon. Something to stretch her abilities, something where she was challenged. But she was starting to realise that her dissatisfaction was also because she’d become complacent in her singlehood.
Sure, she had lovers and she’d go on casual dates from time to time, usually with guys she didn’t end up having anything in common with, or guys who behaved like dicks, but maybe she needed to be open to something else, something more meaningful.
