by C. Fonseca
“I don’t understand,” Jess said.
“Ben and I were never a couple.” Lili twisted her hands together in her lap. “I’d been in what I thought was a steady two-year relationship with my partner Dani when I met your brother. I wanted to have a baby, and Dani agreed we would do that.” Lili sat back in her chair. “With Dani’s promotion, both of our careers were stable enough for me to take maternity leave.” Lili shrugged her shoulders. “But things don’t always work out the way you expect.”
Jess tilted her head. Ah, she supposed this was how Ben fit into the picture. “Was there some kind of problem with you falling pregnant?”
“No,” Lili said emphatically. “I was fine. No, we wanted Ben to be the one to help us. Dani was totally there when Ben agreed to be the donor. Your brother had become a close friend—he was an easy choice.” She took a deep breath before continuing. “My first trimester went smoothly, and I sailed through without any sickness. It’s hard to pinpoint exactly when things started to change between me and Dani. At week fifteen, Dani failed to show up for an appointment with the gynaecologist. Things went downhill from there.”
“Oh,” Jess said. She thought she had it now. “Ben agreed to be the donor because your partner was infertile?”
“What?” Lili narrowed her eyes. “What makes you think Dani was infertile?”
Lili looked even more confused than Jess was at this point. Then, suddenly, her face lit with some kind of recognition. “Oh, Jess, wait a minute. I think there’s something you don’t understand here.”
Jess crossed her arms. “Well, I certainly don’t understand why a perfectly fertile couple needed help from my brother having a baby.”
“Uh, we needed help because neither of us had the sperm required,” Lili said with a grin.
“What?”
“Jess, Dani is a woman—I’m gay.”
It had never once occurred to Jess that Lili could be a lesbian. But now that Jess looked her over, little things started to fall into place. She had a slightly muscled, naturally toned body—definitely gorgeous, in fact. Her hair was short and practical. None of these necessarily meant anything, especially on their own. But now that she thought about it, there was something about the way that Lili interacted with her that was a clue: her gaze when she talked to Jess was direct, and maybe even a little searching. Once Jess was alerted to it, she could remember how when she and Lili had first met, she had noticed and forgotten immediately how Lili had given her the same kind of flickering glance that Jess recognised she did herself with women of interest, as if somewhere in the back of her unconscious mind Lili was looking Jess over and weighing her options. She probably should have guessed.
“So, wait. Your girlfriend Dani—”
“Short for Danielle,” Lili supplied.
“Okay, so you’re saying that Danielle agreed to Ben getting you pregnant, let you go through the first trimester, and as soon as it started getting real, dumped you?” Jess would have been furious with this Danielle woman. “What a bitch.”
“Well, it wasn’t as simple or as blatant as all that.” Lili sighed. “At least not at first. Dani started working longer hours, coming home late more and more often. I finally confronted her, and after avoiding the question some, she admitted she’d made a terrible mistake and that a child was not in her future. She didn’t want to be a parent after all.”
Jess raised her eyebrows. “Four months pregnant. Jesus, what did you do?”
“What could I do? I kept working. I needed to earn a living.”
“Where was Ben?”
“He was working in South Africa. Right from the start, our agreement did not involve parental obligations on his part.” She gave Jess a shrug. “At seven months, I stopped work, and my parents coaxed me back to the farm.”
“You returned home.”
“Yes, and then Ben turned up just before Ru was born.” A blissful smile graced Lili’s face. “She was such a beautiful baby. Blame it on postnatal melancholy, or just stupidity, but I was naïve enough to think Dani might show up, knowing Ru would have been born by then, would see her and want to get back together. It was irrational of me to think that.” Lili sighed. “I did get an e-mail wishing us luck and informing me about her accepting a job transfer to London.”
That must have been a harsh reality check. “What about Ben?”
“Oh, Ben stuck around. He didn’t seem to be in his usual rush to keep moving. He was fantastic and helped us fix up the house so Ru and I could move in.”
“This house was already here?” Jess asked. “It looks newly built.”
“Mum and Dad were in the process of building it as a holiday rental, to make a bit of money in their retirement.”
“That’s quite a sacrifice on their part.”
Lili tilted her head, levelling her gaze. “They did offer. I used my savings for the redesign and to finish the build. Everyone pitched in. We came home from the birth centre and moved straight here. The renovation wasn’t finished, but it was liveable. Ben helped select finishes and appliances. As I said, he was fantastic. After putting up with me for a few months, I’m sure Mum and Dad were happy to reclaim their cottage. It wouldn’t have been much fun for them living with a new baby.”
“Hmm…” Jess looked around the room. “Well, this is a great house.”
Lili stood up and walked over to the window. “It is perfect for Ru and me.” She stared outside. “And my parents are close by whenever I need to be at the restaurant.” After a moment, her tone pitched upwards. “Hey, listen. Are you hungry? Let’s have lunch. At Ailie.” She tapped the window pane with her fingers. “You should see it sooner or later. It’s technically part yours at the moment.”
Jess guessed Lili was ready for a change of subject, but she couldn’t help taking the bait. She had yet to see this place that had so captured her brother’s attention. She surprised herself by grinning back at Lili, despite how awkward and unresolved the subject of the restaurant was between them.
“Sure,” she said, standing up. “Why not?”
Chapter 5
Lili’s blonde hair gleamed in the sunlight that picked up the red highlights. Jess stared at the short, lustrous strands, unexpectedly captivated yet again. But they were indeed beautiful in the light of this sunny day. She found herself wondering what it would be like to run her fingers through them.
Really, Jess told herself, the minute you find out she’s a lesbian, you start gawking at her highlights. You’re as ridiculous as the tabloids say you are, Jessica Harris.
“Jess?”
She blinked upon hearing her name. “Yes?”
Lili gestured for Jess to follow her under the arched courtyard entrance covered in rambling yellow roses that laced the air with a heady fragrance.
They had ambled along the farm’s dirt road, through a stand of sheoke and manna gum trees, and across the grassy hillside. After a brisk ten minutes, they reached the top of a rise into a service area outside a high brick wall that appeared to be the staff carpark and delivery entrance.
Jess followed Lili around a rustic rectangular brick and greying-timber building, along a path that meandered through vegetable and herb plots of different sizes. She stood back and admired the abundance of plants, some growing on metal and wooden supports, while Lili harvested an assortment of spring salad greens of various hues and textures.
As they reached the terrace, Lili pointed to the restaurant’s large windows that overlooked the kitchen garden. “The veranda and main dining room have views of the You Yang ranges and the Melbourne skyline across the bay,” she said. “We can seat thirty-five to forty guests. But we’ve hosted stand-up parties for up to three times that number.”
Jess pointed towards an old stone chimney with a blackened fireplace. “That looks like a really old stack. Not something I’d expect in a restaurant garden.”
“It’s all
that’s left of my grandparents’ cottage, which was gutted in a fire years ago, but the chimney survived. Dad took it down stone by stone and resurrected it here.”
“He did a good job,” Jess said. “Your father told me his parents settled here from Scotland.”
“Yes. After the Second World War.” Lili moved to a stone bench and ran her finger over the raised letters of a carved plaque with a Scottish thistle emblem. “Faodail. It means a lucky find. I guess they considered this land their lucky find.” Lili lifted her face up towards the sun and twirled the silver helix cuff that adorned the top of her left ear. “Ready for some lunch?”
Lili turned, and Jess found herself staring into those clear blue eyes. Seriously, quit it. You were fighting with her half an hour ago. She nodded in agreement. “Does this garden provide a lot for the restaurant?”
“Not everything, but it supplies us with most of the required herbs, salad leaves, and a selection of vegetables.” Lili placed her armful of pickings on a table in a shady corner of the terrace and brushed her hands on her trousers. “Beyond the garden walls, we have an orchard that produces apples, stone fruit, and quince, and there’s a small almond grove. Also, we grow our own blueberries, strawberries, and blackberries in season. A lot of restaurants have kitchen gardens.” Lili reached into a raised planter and picked a handful of jagged leaves.
“But it’s worth it, right? You wouldn’t be doing all that work otherwise.”
“Oh yeah.” Lili smiled broadly. “It’s worth it for many reasons.”
“Is this rocket?” Jess showed her the bit of plant she’d snipped off with her fingers.
“Wild rocket. It was once regarded as a weed, but its mustard flavour adds a punch. I thought I’d use it in our lunch salad.”
“A salad from weeds? I don’t know about that.” Jess bit tentatively into the dark-green leaf. “It has a peppery bite.”
Lili arched her brow. “I’m sure I can tempt you, or at least I can try. Follow me.” She retrieved a set of keys from the pocket of her trousers.
They entered through double-height glass doors into the dining room, where old wooden beams framed the white vaulted ceiling.
“Welcome to Ailie.” Lili gestured with an outstretched arm. Her face shone with pleasure.
The stylishness of the interior surprised Jess. Modern but unpretentious pale-coloured wood tables and contemporary upholstered chairs were arranged to take advantage of the sweeping views. They were a marked contrast to the rustic, exposed red-brick walls and iron chandeliers. She guessed the rough-hewn ceiling beams were remnants of the original building, and they added a warm and honest feel to the interior space.
Lili led her past a sleek stone counter with a row of vintage barstools and a colourful bar alcove, through a set of swing doors into the kitchen.
Like the dining room, it was filled with natural light. The shiny metallic equipment, polished surfaces, and gleaming copper pans hanging over the workbench looked amazing.
“Wow, this place is much more upscale than I’d imagined. It’s so clean and gleaming and bright.”
Lili poked her head out from behind the refrigerator door. “I’m sorry, did you say something?”
“I was just saying this place is impressive,” Jess said. “When do you open again?”
“We’ll reopen for the season next week.” Lili pulled a kitchen stool over to the stainless-steel bench and patted the seat. “Sit. The kitchen is the nerve centre.”
Jess sat as commanded. “I can only imagine.” She tilted her head towards the stained-glass panels in the bar wall. “Don’t you mind being on display?”
“It goes both ways. We get to spy on the dining room as well. Anyway, chefs love to put on a show.” Her cheek dimpled, and the corners of her eyes crinkled when she smiled. “Well, I do.” She wrapped the strings of the indigo apron around her waist and tied it at her front. Lili moved swiftly around the work space, putting a match to the iron griddle and collecting a mixing bowl and whisk, then reached under the workbench to retrieve a red metal toolbox.
Here in the kitchen, she was so clearly sure of herself. Her manner and voice transformed from cautious to confident. Lili selected two knives from her toolbox and set them on to a rectangular cutting board. She hummed softly as she worked and flashed a smile that Jess couldn’t help but return.
“The fennel should be tender but crisp.” Lili moved the lightly charred vegetables to one side of the griddle. She peeled and segmented an orange, brushed the griddle again with olive oil, and placed the fruit down. Within seconds it hissed and sizzled, releasing a fragrant scent of roasting citrus. “I’ll grill this just until the sugars start to caramelise.” She threw a few ingredients into a bowl and whisked them together. “Olive oil, lime juice, and seeded mustard.” A handful of walnuts and balsamic vinegar were tossed around in a pan with butter.
She grinned at Jess, who leaned closer and smiled back at her. Lili placed the wild rocket into a bowl.
There was a jar on the bench waiting for Lili. Jess picked it up and stared at the contents.
“May I?” Lili lifted the jar out of Jess’s hand and opened the lid. “It’s a crumbly feta with just a touch of lemon myrtle. Balances the sweet and savoury flavours in the salad perfectly.” She used her fingers to break the cheese into the bowl, and reached for the toasted walnuts. “Now for the finish. The nuts are for richness and crunch. And the mustard dressing is for zing.”
“Do you always bother to make such a fancy lunch for yourself?” Jess asked.
“No. Not usually, but I’m not by myself.” Her fine eyebrows raised just a fraction. “It’s a version of the Roasted Fennel and Orange Salad from the menu. Same ingredients, just not as intricately plated.” Lili removed her apron and tossed it on the bench. “Come on, let’s sit outside.” She collected two bowls, some cutlery, glasses, and a pitcher of iced tea from the refrigerator and gestured towards a small cloth-covered basket. “If you grab the bread and serviettes, lunch is ready.”
Jess followed Lili out to the terrace. She focused first on the black T-shirt stretched across Lili’s shoulders, then travelled down to her slender hips clad in low-slung trousers. Unlike elite cyclists who obsessed in their pursuit of leanness, Lili was graced with gentle curves and toned muscles, more like a dancer’s. Well-proportioned, healthy, and strong.
Lili turned around and raised an eyebrow. She held Jess’s gaze for a fleeting moment and set the food down on a table under the green canopy of dappled shade. “Sit, please,” she said.
Jess placed the bread basket in the centre of the table and lowered herself into the chair opposite Lili.
“So, what about the restaurant?” Jess busied herself with unfolding her cloth napkin and placing it onto her lap.
Lili’s expression brightened. “As much as I could talk for hours about the day-to-day inner workings of my restaurant, come on—let’s eat.”
“Okay, but actually I meant how did the restaurant come to be here?”
“Oh.” She jabbed a fork into the greens. “Well, after Ru was born, my parents asked me to consider opening a restaurant or café here on the farm.”
Jess recalled the framed photograph she’d just seen in Ailie’s kitchen, one of newborn Aruishi with Scott and Helen McAllister standing over the bassinet. Jess knew instantly why it was there, in such a pride of place in Lili’s restaurant. In the photo, the new grandparents’ faces were filled with wonder. Lili had been right when she talked about Aruishi being a beautiful baby.
“They had it all worked out. Since Dad closed the dairy a few years ago, the old milking shed and brick courtyard had been wasting. They reckoned it was an ideal site for a restaurant, investigated a planning permit for the renovation, and engaged a draughtsman for some ideas.”
“They clearly had faith in your abilities,” Jess said. “But, um, if you don’t mind me saying, it’s not e
xactly Sydney, or Melbourne. Isn’t that what you were used to? Big city? Fast pace?”
“It’s what I thought I wanted, but my circumstances changed.” Lili met her challenging glance. “My parents’ generosity and promise of assistance with Ru gave me the opportunity to reconcile duelling responsibilities—work and family. It was the ideal solution. And this area has always been popular with tourists, especially since the Peninsula re-established itself as a wine region. It was decimated by a deadly vine disease in the 1870s.”
“I saw lots of signs for restaurants, and there are wineries everywhere. In fact, we are surrounded by grapevines here.”
“That’s because we lease our land to a vineyard,” Lili explained.
“How did Ben fit into this?”
“When I told him the idea of converting the milking shed into a restaurant, he was pretty enthusiastic. I drew up plans of my own, based on the draughtsman’s structural blueprint. He agreed it was a great opportunity to establish a restaurant away from the pressures of big-city competition and offered to help financially right from the start.” Lili stopped abruptly as if she were aware she’d waded back into thorny territory. “I don’t know why. Maybe because of Ru.”
“I’m sorry I jumped to conclusions about your relationship with Ben.” She was.
Lili waved a dismissive hand. “Happens to the best of us.” She stood up. “How about some tea now?”
Lili stretched out her legs under the table and sipped her tea. She was a good observer, and her guest intrigued her. Jess picked at her food self-consciously—like someone who didn’t acknowledge the pleasure of eating.
When Jess let down her guard, her brown eyes were warm and rich as the Peninsula’s soil, complex as the finest espresso.
“Lili.”
“Hmm?”
“Thank you.” A small frown creased Jess’s forehead. “I’ve emptied my plate. I didn’t think I could eat it all, but I have.” She sat back and draped her arm over the back of the chair. “You seem to like what you do. Why did you become a chef?”
