The Cafe by the Bridge

by Lily Malone

  Abe stood inside the door, twisting her two-dollar hat in his hands. His hair and shirt were damp. He’d kicked off his shoes. ‘I found this for you.’

  ‘You didn’t need to do that. I would have got it tomorrow.’

  ‘I did need to do it. I needed to do something to say I’m sorry.’

  ‘Sorry is its own kind of thing. You can do that yourself. You don’t need anything to say that you’re sorry.’

  ‘Okay then. I’m sorry all on my own.’

  ‘Apology accepted. Thank you.’

  He squeezed the hat’s brim. ‘I used Ella’s spare key.’

  Abe stepped forward until his legs hit the bed, then he kind of folded himself on the mattress while she watched him and didn’t speak. He kneeled on the bed beside her and put the hat on her head, then sat on his heels staring at her, and her heart stretched, softened, stretched again, like scone dough in his hands.

  ‘You’re beautiful, Doc. Did I say that before?’ No grin. No smile. No sass to it.

  ‘I might have missed it. Tell me again.’

  ‘You’re beautiful. I’m sorry for being a dick before.’ He said it seriously, holding her gaze, moving one hand to rub his thumb over her cheek. ‘I’m sorry for walking out on you. I acted like a spoiled kid. I promise I won’t ever do it again.’

  ‘I know why you thought that way, that I was only using you to help Will. I understand why you acted that way, okay? I get it. I really do.’

  ‘My mum always says you should never end an argument by sleeping in separate beds,’ Abe said.

  ‘I agree with your mum.’

  ‘I’d like to be exclusive—I think that was the word you used—yes. That’s if I haven’t already wrecked everything and you want me to leave you alone.’

  Taylor lifted the quilt beside her, turning it over. She took the hat from her head and frisbee’d it into a corner.

  ‘I definitely don’t want you to leave me alone.’

  ‘You’re too good for me, you know that?’ he said, with a look in his eyes that hurt her heart. Four days she’d known him and he had the power to hurt her heart. Scary, that.

  ‘No one is too good for you. You need to value yourself higher.’

  He huffed beneath his breath. A huff filled with disbelief.

  ‘Right,’ she said briskly. ‘That’s the first thing to work on. Your self-esteem is up to shit.’

  ‘Is that the technical term?’ He said it with a laugh, but his eyes were sad and she saw through them, saw through him.

  She patted the sheets beside her.

  ‘Hop in, Abe. It’s okay. I don’t expect anything from you. I don’t want anything from you. I did, but I don’t anymore. All I want is for you to do what’s right for you.’

  ‘Being with you feels pretty darn right to me.’

  He might hurt her heart but her body was ready for anything, and this young man beside her on the bed was wearing way too many clothes.

  That was something she could fix.

  CHAPTER

  18

  ‘My car or yours?’

  Taylor didn’t hesitate. ‘Mine. I’ve got to take this baby back to Perth tomorrow and she’ll be stuck driving sixty kilometres an hour between the traffic lights. This car isn’t built for doing sixty clicks an hour.’

  ‘If you’re happy to be the Sunday driver, Doc, I’m a happy passenger,’ Abe said, locking the café door, pulling at the handle once to make sure it was shut.

  She stuffed her hands in her coat. The wind was up today and the air felt spring-brisk, but the sky was clear and didn’t look like rain.

  ‘I hope you don’t lose any customers by knocking off early,’ Taylor said.

  ‘They’ll just have to keep driving.’

  Chalk ’n’ Cheese would normally shut its doors around 4 pm, but it wasn’t quite 2:30 pm and Abe had already called it a day. They were going to drive to Albany for dinner and see if they could spot a whale in the late afternoon.

  Taylor hadn’t helped him in the café today—Abe wouldn’t let her. He said she should use her last day in Chalk Hill for rest and relaxation, not waiting on customers.

  So she’d had a lovely lazy morning walk with Bruno, and revisited the second-hand shop where the woman behind the counter now knew her by name.

  She and Abe piled into Taylor’s car, clicked their seatbelts and settled in for a drive which would take them about an hour. It was quiet and not quite comfortable, both of them stuck for what they might say.

  ‘What do you think of the tyres, Abe?’ she asked, desperate for some level of easy conversation to get them started. Strange, given how open they’d been with each other in the small hours of last night, and given every intimate thing they’d done.

  The thought of those intimate things sent quivers curling through her belly.

  He’d been looking out the window, watching green hills blur. Now he twisted to face her. ‘The tyres?’

  Taylor nodded. ‘They’re new. I only just got them fitted.’

  ‘What do I think of the tyres?’ He pondered it too long and way too theatrically.

  ‘Now you’re taking the piss,’ Taylor warned. ‘I mean do they feel soft on the road? Balanced? Smooth? What about the road noise?’

  This time he laughed aloud. ‘Jesus, Doc. They’re tyres, you know. They feel round.’

  Taylor bounced her hands on the steering wheel. ‘Boy, did I bring the wrong dude for a ride in my car.’

  It broke the ice. Abe put his hand across the seat and laid it on her thigh, and Taylor picked his hand up in hers, and they held the pose, linked there. Warm and solid.

  * * *

  Little Beach at Albany took Taylor’s breath away. A curve of beach like a Mona Lisa smile, and the whitest stretch of sand she’d ever seen, so fine it was like walking on crushed chalk. A large rock broke the sand midway along the curve, making the waves smash, wrap and die on the shore.

  Kids played with the waves, running into the bubbling foam and racing back with their pants or skirts tucked high while parents shouted, ‘Don’t get wet,’ and ‘I didn’t bring a towel,’ and the kids ran a little further in, every time.

  There were tourists on the beach. Asian women in sarongs bright enough to match any bird, men with the latest in phones and cameras slung on their shoulders or in expensive-looking holders and carry bags. Some had taken their shoes off. How many of them grew up in faraway countries with sand this beautiful in which to squish their toes?

  Taylor and Abe sat high on the rocks at the eastern end of the beach where the bay opened towards the Southern Ocean and the inlet of King George Sound ran away to their left. They hadn’t seen any whales and, to be honest, Taylor had pretty much stopped looking for black backs or breaching fins. The rocks were hard and cold, and the chest behind her was warm, with a comfortable muscular resilience that made Abe an awesome couch.

  ‘Have you travelled much, Abe?’ she asked, snuggling her back into his chest. His legs stretched either side of her body, knees drawn up. He made a wonderful buffer from the billowing wind.

  ‘Not as much as I’d like to.’ He grazed the skin of her neck with his whiskers as he answered, and the arms looping about her shoulders pulled tight.

  ‘Where would you most want to go?’ she said.

  He didn’t answer straight away, something she now recognised as a natural trait, rather than any reluctance to answer. He was a guy who thought things through.

  ‘Italy. France. The Mediterranean.’

  ‘For the food?’

  She felt his nod through her shoulder.

  ‘And the architecture. I’d love to see the ancient things before people ruin them, you know? Like the Colosseum and the Parthenon. Turkish temples. The pyramids.’

  ‘Me too,’ Taylor said. ‘French patisseries. Little towns with cobblestone streets. White-washed buildings. Pots of red flowers on window sills. Terracotta hills.’

  ‘Paté,’ Abe said.

  ‘French baguettes. Oh my God
—the cheese! White wine in those tiny little glasses engraved with the family’s crest.’

  ‘Stop it now. You’re making me hungry.’

  She chuckled, turning her face to the water and watching it lurch and sway into the rocks. After a little bit, Abe hugged her closer.

  ‘I had my twelfth birthday party at this beach,’ he said, touching his lips to her neck in a way that made her shiver. ‘Mum brought my brothers and a bunch of my mates down to Albany for the day. We had McDonald’s.’ His lips continued the kisses, tiny nibbling bites. ‘We hardly ever had Maccas, it was such a treat. Mum made ice-cream cake. She packed it in the car fridge and made Dad turn the fridge up to freezer for the trip.’

  ‘Your dad was there?’

  ‘He didn’t make it. Too much to do on the farm. That was okay. It was a good day anyway. I’ve never forgotten that birthday, even if the ice-cream cake was a bit soft.’

  A mass of seaweed moved just off the shore, blown in on the waves, smashed between water and land. The weed bank drifted east, nosing along the edge, lazy and aimless.

  Then the seaweed spat air.

  Taylor grabbed Abe’s knee. ‘Is that a whale?’ She pointed towards what she thought she could see and behind her Abe stiffened, then he pointed too, and a split second later they scrambled to their feet.

  ‘Two of them,’ Abe breathed. ‘There’s a calf with it.’

  Taylor readjusted her view. He was right. Two whales, about five metres from where the granite rocks rolled into the sea. Their backs were barnacle-crusted black and white, and they were cruising ever so slowly in the direction of the open water and the sea.

  ‘I thought it was seaweed,’ Taylor said. ‘I’ve never seen whales in the water before. I haven’t ever been whale watching on a boat.’

  ‘We couldn’t be closer if we were on a boat,’ Abe said. ‘That’s amazing.’

  Then he took off, flying over the rocks, leaping gaps, and when Taylor turned to watch him she could see him waving his arms and shouting towards the nearest group of tourists. On the beach, where the rocks blocked them, they wouldn’t be able to see the whales.

  ‘Whales,’ Abe shouted, holding his hands to his mouth so the words didn’t get caught by the wind. ‘There are whales!’

  He got the attention of an older man with a camera, and Taylor had to giggle because the poor tourist looked like he thought Abe was a few sausages shy of a barbecue, and who could blame him? This total stranger waving his arms about, shouting.

  Eventually Abe convinced the guy to follow him, and once that fellow climbed high enough on the rocks to get a view of the whales, he raced back to his crowd, and Abe skipped back across the rocks to join her.

  Less than a minute later the rocks were thick with people all sharing the incredible experience of watching whales doing their whale thing.

  Taylor inhaled salted air, watched the incredible creatures and couldn’t think of another more spectacular moment in which she could just be.

  Hold that thought.

  Abe’s arms came around her and his body pressed hers. With his chin resting on her shoulder as the pair of them looked out to sea, she decided that actually, there was something that could make it more spectacular.

  Sharing it.

  CHAPTER

  19

  They ate dinner early at Abe’s favourite restaurant in Albany, both on a natural high after seeing the whales, and it was great, really great, until suddenly it wasn’t great anymore.

  It hit Abe fast.

  One moment Taylor asked him if she could try some of his citrus tart and her fork snaked towards his dessert plate. She sliced off a spoonful and started chewing.

  ‘Um, yeah. Help yourself,’ he said because hell, she already was.

  His eyes got stuck on her mouth, that sexy bottom lip that felt so good when he sucked it, nibbled it—

  ‘What do you think of the tart?’ he asked her, to stop himself thinking about her mouth.

  ‘Oh, you know, it’s round,’ and she rolled her eyes.

  It cracked them both up. Had her holding her stomach and him thinking about how much he’d miss her when she went back to Perth and, whump, he was flat as a lid on a tin can.

  He was quiet on the drive home. Quiet when Taylor pulled her car into Ella’s place.

  He played with Bruno for a while in the cold air, throwing a stick—the wind had died away to nothing—and rubbing the dog’s ruff.

  ‘Can I get you anything?’ Taylor asked when he came inside.

  ‘No, thanks. I’m good.’

  She’d taken off her boots, and she looked so small behind Ella’s galley bench. Small and a bit lost. Like he felt.

  ‘So—’ he started.

  ‘Thanks—’ she said at the same time.

  Both of them stopped, and she waved her hand. ‘You first.’

  ‘So … I guess I was wondering what we do now?’

  She didn’t make him spell it out, which was something he liked about her. She didn’t pretend he was talking about anything other than what the two of them would do with this—this interesting fluttering thing—growing between them.

  ‘I don’t want to go back to Perth tomorrow,’ she said, ‘but I have to. Ella’s coming home and anyway, I’ve got work.’

  ‘You’ve got a life in the city,’ he supplied.

  ‘I do.’ She sighed. ‘It’s not going to be easy, Abe.’

  He’d felt that at the restaurant. He’d felt that in the car driving home. He felt it now. ‘Nothing good ever is.’

  She shook her head. ‘I don’t believe that. Relationships—when they’re the right ones—they should be easy. They won’t always be smooth.’

  ‘You feel easy to me, Doc.’

  The briefest smile. ‘That’s good. I’m glad. I’ll miss you.’

  Then he didn’t know where to go. What were they signing up for here? She lived three hours away. She wasn’t losing her shit when morbid songs played on the radio, even if he was all de-sensitised now.

  He was a screw-up who knew more about the odds on picking the trifecta at the Melbourne Cup than he should; and she was special. Too special for a loser like him.

  ‘You could visit, Abe. Come stay with me. Next weekend if you’d like. No pressure.’

  ‘Weekends are tricky. Café’s open Tuesday to Sunday.’

  ‘Come Sunday after closing time. I can take Mondays off if I juggle my schedule. How does that sound?’ She cocked her hand on her hip. ‘And if you say “it sounds round” I’m wrestling you.’

  A grin curved his lips. He opened his mouth and said three syllables. ‘Circular.’

  ‘Right!’

  She sparred with him around the kitchen, ducking behind the galley, giggling as she kept the bench between them, so he thought, well bugger the bench, put one hand on it, got his butt up, legs over, like hurdling the gates on the farm.

  He had her in his arms before she could squeal.

  Then he kissed the squeals from her and took her to bed.

  * * *

  After, they lay in Ella’s guestroom, with Taylor’s head on his shoulder and her leg twined across his. Her fingers alternately twisted and tugged on the hair on his chest, nails scratching. It felt like heaven.

  ‘I’ve got a question for you, and the answer is not round,’ she said, after a time.

  He ran his fingertips along her arm. She was so soft. ‘Okay.’

  ‘How do you feel about dating an older woman, Abe?’ she asked quietly. ‘And one who doesn’t want children?’

  ‘I don’t care about your age. I don’t think about it.’

  ‘What about last night playing pool when that girl called me “Nanna”? Weren’t you embarrassed?’

  ‘Did I look embarrassed? I was proud to be there with you. You’re gorgeous. Smart. Damn good at pool. Incredibly sexy with a cue in your hand. I don’t think about your age so it’s not relevant. Who cares? Anyway, I’d get notoriety, wouldn’t I? You’re the one who’s cradle-snatching.’


  She tugged his chest hairs hard enough to make him wince, but she moved on to the second part of her question. ‘What about the kid thing?’

  He shrugged. ‘You might change your mind.’

  ‘I might. But I don’t think so. If kids are a deal-breaker for you, that’s fine. I just think it’s better to stop this now. That’s all. We can say we had a great time this week and leave it at that. I’m at that time of my life where I don’t want to waste time on a guy if things are already dead in the water.’

  ‘You make it sound like you’re fifty.’

  ‘I know what I want and what I don’t want, and I don’t want to spend five or ten years of my life—these years in my thirties when I’m looking good—and then when I’m forty I’m dumped for someone ready to breed.’

  He recoiled at her use of the word breed. Hard not to. ‘Are we getting ahead of ourselves?’

  She lifted her head from his shoulder so she could look him in the eyes. ‘I’d rather say it, have it out there. That’s all.’

  ‘I really like you, Taylor. I’ve loved hanging out with you this week.’ He nudged his jaw lower, laying a kiss on her temple. ‘I don’t know about kids. I always thought I’d be a dad one day, but that’s as far as it goes, you know? So I don’t think I can answer you. I really don’t know. It’s not like I see blokes kicking the footy in the park with their sons and feel like I’m missing out on something.’

  ‘Okay.’

  ‘That’s not enough answer for you, is it?’ Abe said.

  ‘I can enjoy this for what it is, for what we have now. I can do that for a while, okay? But I won’t do it forever.’

  ‘Let’s talk about tomorrow for a sec, instead of forever. Is that okay?’

  She bit his chest, gently. ‘Tomorrow is fine. Go. Shoot.’

  ‘Well, what time do you have to head off for Perth?’

  ‘I don’t want to be driving at night if I can help it. So I’d need to be away by about three in the afternoon, at the latest.’

  ‘I don’t want you driving at night either. Too many kangaroos. Don’t want you smashing up the Redline.’

  She shuddered. ‘Don’t even say that aloud.’