by Jenny Plumb
“Do the words ‘customer service’ mean anything to you?”
“Do the words, ‘road service mechanic’ mean anything to you? Perhaps you should keep yourself out on the road.”
“You know, someone ought to slap your ass and remind you to use your manners.”
Heat crept up Candy’s neck as a heady cocktail of embarrassment and attraction heated her blood. As annoying as this bossy boots was, there was something about that accent and the muscular forearms at the end of his rolled up shirtsleeves that she found very attractive. Not to mention what he’d just said… yeah, that about the arse smacking, it was hot. “I think that might be against the law.”
“I didn’t say it should be me, although the idea definitely has merit.”
His eyes scanned her and flickered towards her rear, which, luckily, was firmly cemented to her seat. He was checking her out! Her heart stopped for a split second and when it started beating, it just about thumped through her chest. His continued lecture didn’t help matters at all.
“As for the woman shopping with her babbies, you know full well I was using that for an example. She could have been in real trouble.”
Candy sighed. She would have to concede that one. She would have to pay more attention but she didn’t need to be told over and over like she was some kind of imbecile. “I get the point – what did you say your name was?”
“Rowan, my name is Rowan.”
“Well, you’ve delivered your message now, Rowan; so why don’t you toddle off and get on with saving any damsels in distress that are waiting for your impeccable mechanical skills? I’m sure somebody somewhere is waiting for their superman to show up.” As attractive as this man was, his arrogance overshadowed the appeal.
“Don’t you worry about what I have to do, miss. You’re the one that needs to pull their socks up. That being said, I will happily leave you, I need to sleep.”
“Off you go then. I’m sure you have a little woman waiting at home for you…” Oh my God! Did she just pose that as an open-ended question? The last thing she wanted to do was let this egotistical prat think she was interested in him. Yet she was staring at him, as if she was waiting for an answer. Look away, look away!
“No, as it happens, still single.” He actually chuckled smugly as he turned to walk away.
She searched for the perfect come back that would leave her having the last word. Nothing, she had nothing. Why did she feel kind of empty when he swung through the door and disappeared?
This was getting ridiculous. It was time. She’d made up her mind and was going to have to phone her mum and tell her she wasn’t coming for Christmas. Candace just couldn’t face turning up to another Christmas without a significant other. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to spend time with her family, she did. It wasn’t that she didn’t love being the nieces and nephews’ favourite auntie, she did. What she didn’t want was the looks. Not even the looks that were aimed at her directly; her family always showed smiling faces that were happy to see her. It was the looks that passed between her mum and her sisters, and her sisters themselves. Those looks told her everything. She and her chronic singleness was obviously the top topic of conversation between them a lot. Of course the year before, a conversation with her mum had let her know that they had been thinking and talking about the fact that she never brought anyone home. Her mother had sat her down with a glass of bubbly for a chat...
“You know Candy, you can tell me or your sisters or your dad for that matter, anything.”
“I know, Ma, thanks.”
“So is there anything? Anything you want to tell me, us?”
“Well, I got a pretty nice pay rise this year.”
“Oh, that’s nice but I was thinking of something more, I don’t know, momentous, big, personal.”
“Like what, Ma? I really don’t know what you want me to tell you.”
“I’m just gonna say it. It worries me, well, us, that you don’t seem to have someone. Well, I mean someone that you think you can bring home. I just want you to know that whomever you might be seeing, you can bring them home to meet us. We’d be happy to meet anyone at all – male or female.
“Ma! You think I’m gay?”
Not that there was anything wrong with being gay. At times she thought it might be nice to be gay. Girls could relate on an emotional level that men just couldn’t, or didn’t, anyway, reach. Then there was the other part of a relationship where only a man would do. She had never kissed a girl, but it wasn’t something she longed for. Not like she had longed to be held in the arms of a man. She was so lost in her thoughts that she actually jumped when the phone rang.
“Candy, it’s Mum.”
“Yes, Ma, I recognized your voice.” Candy giggled nervously. This was the opportunity she’d been waiting for. Say it, say it! If she was going to tell her mother she wasn’t coming for Christmas, now was the time. For God’s sake just say it, come up with a reason, anything. You have swine flu, cough – something.
“When will you be leaving, love?”
“Uh, um, well I—” Say it!
But then her father was on the phone. “Candy, check your tyres and your spare. When was the last time you got a service?”
“Dad, I work for a road service company. I’m not going to be stranded if something happens.”
“So does that mean you haven’t had a service?”
“I didn’t say that, Dad, I just don’t want you to worry about me. I’m a big girl now, I’m fine.”
“You can’t tell a parent not to worry, especially when their child lives so far away.”
“Dad, I’m only a couple of hours away.”
“Then why don’t you visit more often?”
It was her mum again. “Mum?”
“Yes, we got these new phones, there’s two of them so we can both talk at once. Isn’t it great?”
“Fabulous!” She couldn’t help but smile. How did her parents’ generation get so much pleasure out of the little things? She did miss them.
“So? When are you leaving?”
It was both of them at once. She held her breath for a second, trying to summon the courage to tell them she wasn’t coming, but she just couldn’t disappoint them. “I’ll leave early, the day before Christmas Eve.”
“That’s wonderful!” her mum said.
“We can’t wait to see you,” her dad agreed.
The sheer pleasure in their voices made her smile. So she had to be an adult and suck it up for another year, it wouldn’t kill her.
Time to shop. She’d already done the presents shopping for the children and the adults did a Kris Kringle. She got her sister Andy. She wandered the store and finally chose her some photo frames. Nothing her sister liked more than framing photos of her little nieces and nephews and splattering them all over the walls of their small house. God knows where she was going to put the pictures of her own kids when she had them. The girl that was closest to her in age, who she’d climbed trees with when they were nine and ten and who she’d snuck out of the house with and got drunk when they were fifteen, had now turned into, well, a housewife. She didn’t work and she waited for the day that she fell pregnant. It was sort of sad. Candy missed her. As she walked through the shopping centre, she also thought about a gift voucher for a mani-pedi and a facial so her sister could have something for herself, but in her heart she knew it would probably end up in the bottom of a drawer somewhere. Then it hit her, the perfect gift for someone that didn’t get to do much for themselves anymore? A case of booze. It was going to be a long few days so she also grabbed one for herself. Nothing like a glass or two or three of bubbles to make the world look a little more shiny. Christmas was all about lights and sparkles wasn’t it, she thought as she pushed her laded trolley to the cashier.
Chapter 2
So much for leaving earlier in the day, it was way after the time she had imagined herself getting out onto the road so she could miss the traffic. It was already getting busy, but it w
as just so stinking hot and it had been far more comfortable in her air-conditioned flat than it was going backwards and forwards to load the car. Finally, she’d managed to drag herself, her clothes and any other stuff she would need for a few days, plus the wrapped presents, to her car. At least it was good to be wearing casual stuff instead of her usual more formal work wear.
“This traffic is unbelievable,” she said to no one as she crawled through the late morning traffic heading north on the expressway. She should have left earlier, as she’d planned. When a turn off was in sight, she indicated to turn left; maybe traffic would be better on the coast road. She didn’t get very far unfortunately; the car started to make a weird noise. As it putt-putted along, ever so slowly, it was obvious that stopping was inevitable. She tried to get in the left lane and out of the way, but no one would let her in. She pressed her hand heavily on the horn and wound down the window to encourage the car beside her to let her over. The stupid car was going to stop right there and not only would she be stuck, but also everyone else behind her. “What the fuck are you doing, you bloody genius? Can’t you see there’s something wrong with my car?” she screamed out of the window. As she predicted, the car ground to a stop while she was half way across the lane, right on the shoulder of the road where others were trying to escape the Christmas traffic. “Shit.” Her dad’s words about the service rang in her ears. Oh well, at least she didn’t have a flat tyre.
Horns tooted and people shouted abuse. “I couldn’t get in!” A man was calling her names and doing nasty things with his finger. Christmas just brought out the best in people, didn’t it? “And Merry fucking Christmas to you too, you moron!” she shouted back at a man yelling another gob-full of abuse. She had no idea what to do. Of course she would call for road assistance, but at that moment she had to figure out a way to move the car out of the way of the rapidly building traffic. The only people that could help her would probably be less than enthused about giving her a push after she’d just screamed at them. Brilliant thought process as usual Candy. Reluctantly, she got out of the car and grinned sheepishly. Sorry that she had been such a loud mouthed fishwife and not knowing what else to do, she shrugged and stated the obvious. “I’ve broken down.”
“Well, you can’t stop there!” a woman yelled. “You’re blocking the traffic.”
There was always a genius in every situation. “I know that, lovely, but the car won’t move. What is it that I’m supposed to do? I’m really sorry!” she said. “This isn’t the perfect end to my day either.”
A man got out of his car and walked towards her. He looked about her dad’s age. “Okay, okay, let’s not panic. Get in and steer, love and I’ll give you a push,” he said calmly.
“Thank you so much.” She could have kissed the nice man’s boots, except he was wearing thongs and she wasn’t going to go anywhere near his feet, that would be gross. Then another man came, and another. It took no time at all and she was out of the way and waiting patiently on the grass verge. Of course they all helped because it was in their best interests to move her, but who could blame them for that? This was Christmas and everyone had somewhere to be. Still, she’d like to think there was bit of Christmas spirit left in people. She called for roadside assistance and then waited somewhat patiently. Why the hell didn’t she get some food or a drink or something? It wasn’t like she hadn’t passed several hamburger drive-thrus before she got onto the expressway. She flicked the key to see if she could at least turn the radio on, but the lights came on the dashboard for a split second and it died again. This didn’t look great; it could be that she wouldn’t get to go home for Christmas after all.
Rowan answered the call-out and then sighed. Fucking fabulous, his last call for the day and it had to be on the expressway going north. The traffic was going to be horrendous. It was sure to be some eegit that hadn’t checked that their car was roadworthy before taking off on a long drive. He started off, trying to brace himself for the trip to hell that he was about to face.
He was already not feeling great. He should have gotten himself rostered-on to work over the break. It was Christmas Eve the next day, he wanted to ring his mam and tell her the bunch of lies that she needed to hear. He would tell her that there was nothing to worry about, that he wasn’t going to be alone on Christmas. He was going to have a whale of a time and he’d put a photo on that there Facebook when he got his phone fixed. It was broken see, otherwise he would have had a whole string of photos to send her. She would ask him if he was going to midnight mass and he would tell her yes, it was one thing that he could ease her mind with and be telling the truth. Confession first and then mass, that’s how he would spend Christmas.
It took him a good hour to make his way through the traffic, but finally as he turned, he saw the vehicle, parked where it shouldn’t be on the grassy area at the edge of the road. They always were though.
Finally, she saw the distinctive van crawling towards her, coming to a stop right behind the car. Thank God. As the man walked up next to her, she turned and rolled down her window. She gasped. “You?”
“You! Oh for the love of God, I must have killed someone in a past life.”
“Yes, well I’m not exactly happy to see you either, what was your name? Owen?”
“Rowan, my name is Rowan. Can we get on with this?” The man grumpily shook his head. “Pop the hood.”
“Pop the hood, please? Manners don’t cost anything, you know.”
“You’re teaching me about manners, that’s rich.” He didn’t ask her again, just leaned his hand in between her legs and flicked the hood release latch.
This too close, although not intimate at all, touch made her shiver. She was wearing short shorts and she could feel the hairs on his arm as they brushed against her bare skin. “Help yourself,” she said sarcastically.
“I did ask, but as usual you didn’t listen. Right, we’re going to run some tests, do you think you could do as you’re told for a little while? It will make it quicker for both of us.”
Candy rolled her eyes. “I’ll try, but you might need to dumb down the instructions for me.”
Rowan narrowed his eyes as he practically stuck his head through the window. “Would you like me to get someone else to do your call-out?”
Candy felt her face heat. “That’ll take ages.”
“Exactly, so if you want me to do this, you’d better be a good little girl and just do as I say, when I say it, quietly. Do you think you could manage that?”
Candy nodded, she suddenly felt like a petty teenager who had been arguing with her dad.
“Good, that will make both of our lives easier.”
It was forty-five minutes of fiddling with this and tinkering with that. He charged the battery and fired instructions at her: start the engine, turn on your headlights, now the wipers. Turn on your radio, your air conditioner.
“Do you have any idea what’s wrong?” she asked through the window.
“Yes, I do now; it’s your alternator. It isn’t charging your battery.”
“Oh no, that doesn’t sound good, can you fix it?”
He shook his head. “I’m afraid it’ll have to be towed.”
“No!”
“You don’t have a choice. I mean, look on the bright side, you’re covered, so it won’t cost you anything.”
“You don’t understand, it isn’t the cost of having it towed, I need my car to get home for Christmas.” Funny, she’d been looking for an excuse to get out of going home and now she had a real one, yet she felt so disappointed she could just cry.
Rowan’s face softened. “Did you take the loaner car option on your policy?”
“No, I didn’t. I thought it was a waste of money. Anyway, it’s a moot point now, isn’t it?”
“You could hire a car for a couple of days, couldn’t you?”
“No, I’ve spent all my money on presents and… stuff.”
He glanced into the back seat and smiled. “I see you have a drop of juice i
n there.”
“It’s a couple of cases of bubbles. It’s Christmas; anyway, some of it is for a present for one of my sisters. People do drink at Christmas, you know.” Why was she being so defensive? There was just something about his manner that seemed to rile her.
“How far away do you have to go?”
“Another two hours, Hillblend, do you know it?”
“I know where it is. I’ve driven through it, though never stopped. Look, we’ll wait for your tow truck and then I’ll drive you.”
She looked at his face. Was he joking? Why would such a difficult, normally cranky person be so nice? “You don’t have to do that, seriously, it’s Christmas and you must have somewhere you want to be?”
“Whatever I have planned can wait,” he said. “I hate to think of your family waiting for you and being disappointed. Whenever possible, families should be together at Christmas. I’d be happy to help.”
“Really? This isn’t some kind of a trap?”
“Why would I bother to trap you? Believe it or not, I’m not an arsehole. I really believe in families, especially at Christmas.”
“So apart from the booze on the back seat, you have the boot full?”
“Sorry. It’s stuff for my nieces and nephews and my mum and dad.” Her car was waiting to be towed and they were moving all the stuff she had crammed into every nook and cranny of her small car into his, thankfully, larger van.
“How big is your family?”
“I’m one of five girls,” she said.
“Oh, so you have a smallish family then.”
“Small? How big is your family?”
“I’m an Irish man from a Catholic family.” He chuckled. “Guess.”
“I don’t know, um, six?”
“Try twelve. I’m number nine.”
“Oh my Lord, I always thought we were an unnaturally large family. None of my parents’ friends had more than three children.”
