Two Weeks 'til Christmas

by Laura Greaves

  He wanted Claire to stay in his life this time. And that meant she needed to know.

  He had to tell her about Nina.

  Claire made sure she was late. She hated being the first to arrive at a pub, having to walk in alone, decide where to sit, check her phone every few minutes for the usual excuses from last-minute pikers. And she could never decide whether she should order a drink or wait for everyone else to arrive. It was a social minefield. Better to be slightly tardy and glide in after the groundwork was already done.

  Besides, getting to the Hero of Waterloo a few minutes after seven o’clock meant the historic pub in The Rocks was packed with the after-work-drinks crowd; the atmosphere was extra rambunctious on such a hot night so close to Christmas and Claire was able to slip in unnoticed and take a moment just to watch. She wanted to refresh the picture of Scotty that she’d carried in her mind’s eye for eight years without the shock and irritation that had coloured their earlier meeting.

  She spotted Scotty at the far end of the bar, perched on a stool and sipping a pint of beer. He was chatting to a lithe blonde woman standing next to him. She was stunning and she leaned in close to him, the fingers of her left hand resting lightly on his shoulder as she listened intently to whatever it was he was saying. Claire’s suspicion that Scotty’s days of being overlooked by gorgeous women were long gone was confirmed: the blonde might as well have been wearing a flashing neon sign that said I-N-T-E-R-E-S-T-E-D.

  Suddenly, Scotty threw back his head, laughing, and gifted his companion with the same wonky smile that had floored Claire just a few hours ago. Her stomach responded with a small lurch. Stupid, she thought. She could tell with one glance that the woman was nothing more than a way to help Scotty pass the time, but the fleeting jolt of envy made her uncomfortable. It wasn’t her business who her friend chose to speak to.

  Claire made her way through the dense crowd and tapped Scotty on the shoulder that wasn’t occupied by the blonde’s scarlet talons. When he turned and saw her, a broad grin lit his face.

  ‘You made it!’ he said, a note of surprise in his voice.

  ‘Of course,’ Claire replied, confused. ‘Didn’t you think I would?’

  ‘Well, it’s just, you know . . . we kind of got off on the wrong foot earlier.’ He offered a slightly sheepish smile.

  A giggle bubbled up inside her. ‘Scotty, please. After everything we’ve been through together in the last – what – thirteen years? There’s no such thing as the wrong foot with us.’ We’ve already hurt, frustrated and ruined each other as much as we possibly can, she silently added.

  Sensing she’d been relegated to ‘third wheel’ position, Scotty’s new acquaintance pouted a little and said, ‘You two obviously have a lot to catch up on, so I’ll leave you to it. It was nice meeting you, Scotty.’

  His gaze didn’t shift from Claire as he said, ‘Nice meeting you too, Helen.’

  ‘It’s Hannah,’ the woman muttered as the crowd swallowed her.

  And then it was just the two of them. An island of shared history in a sea of what Claire hoped was water under the bridge. She suddenly realised how important it was that this wasn’t their last meeting. She had met up with old friends before – long-lost boarding school girlfriends who’d found her via social media; the college alumni she never heard from until they planned to visit from America and needed a place to stay; even the occasional Bindallarah throwback – but she had never kidded herself that those coffee catch-ups or awkward weekends of grudging hospitality would lead to renewed friendships.

  But with Scotty she did want that. Looking at him now, she wasn’t quite sure how she’d managed without him for the past eight years. There had been a Scotty-shaped hole in her life and somehow she hadn’t seen it; she’d convinced herself she hadn’t felt his absence. Their relationship was different now, of course. It had changed, because they had changed. They would never – should never – go back to what they were, but she wanted whatever it was they could become.

  ‘What are you drinking?’ Scotty asked. Before Claire could respond, he grasped her forearm with his big hand and said, ‘Wait, let me guess. Midori and lemonade?’

  She swatted away his paw, laughing. ‘Oh my God, Scotty!’ she said. Thinking about the bile-green, melon-flavoured monstrosity she’d claimed as her ‘signature drink’ back when she’d believed it was cool to have one made her feel queasy. ‘I’m not twenty any more. I’ll have a glass of pinot noir, please.’

  Scotty gestured to the barman. ‘So,’ he said when Claire’s drink had been delivered, ‘I think this momentous occasion deserves a toast.’

  Claire arched an eyebrow. ‘You do?’

  ‘Absolutely,’ he said. ‘To us. Scotty and Claire, the dynamic duo, together again. At last.’ He clinked his pint against her wineglass.

  Scotty raised his glass to his lips and drank deeply, his green eyes regarding her closely over the rim. The way he looked at her, steady and defiant, was unnerving. It was as if his gaze held a question, a challenge.

  Claire felt unsteady on her feet, almost drunk, though she’d had only a tiny sip of her wine. Together again. At last. What did he mean by that? It sounded like a statement of intent, loaded with possibilities she hadn’t let herself think about during the months since they’d found each other again. She deleted his emails after replying to them so that she wouldn’t go over and over them, looking for clues that she still mattered to him, conjuring deeper meaning where there wasn’t any.

  But perhaps she had been too cautious. Jackie insisted that no red-blooded single man spent six months corresponding with a woman he had only friendly feelings for – especially, she said, when that woman had been his first love. Could Jackie be right? Here he was, IRL after eight long years, looking so very good. Should she take a chance and ask him out on a real date?

  Claire cleared her throat. Maybe I’ll just test the waters. ‘I wasn’t sure you’d be happy to hear from me back in June.’

  There was that smile again. ‘Why would you worry about that? I missed you,’ Scotty said. He slid off his bar stool and took a step towards her. ‘C’mere.’

  He wrapped her in a tight hug, pulling her into his broad chest and resting his chin on the crown of her head. Claire had always marvelled at how well they fitted together, even though Scotty was so much taller. It wasn’t that she had forgotten how good it felt to be held by him; she just hadn’t wanted to let herself remember.

  Being in Scotty’s arms felt like home. For eight years, she had believed she’d never be able to go home again.

  ‘I didn’t think we’d ever be back here,’ she mumbled into the soft cotton of his T-shirt.

  He chuckled and she felt rather than heard it rumble deep within his chest. ‘I knew you couldn’t keep away from me forever.’

  No, just eight years. Reluctantly, she pulled away. ‘So, what does this mean?’ she said, feeling giddy. ‘How is this going to work?’

  ‘Well, actually, there’s something I want to ask you,’ Scotty said.

  Claire’s heart rate abruptly tripled. She nodded mutely.

  ‘Claire, will you come to my wedding?’

  And in that instant, it felt like her heart stopped beating altogether. A sharp pain sliced through her abdomen, and for a moment she thought she’d been struck. ‘Your what?’

  ‘I’m getting married! Can you believe it?’ His grin split his face from ear to ear.

  Claire slowly shook her head. She felt caged and panicky. Her limbs fizzed as if preparing to flee. ‘I really can’t,’ she said, her voice flat.

  ‘And I want you to be there,’ Scotty continued, apparently oblivious to her desperation. ‘Outside of my family, you’re the person who has meant the most to me in my life. I can’t imagine you not being there on my wedding day. Will you come? Please?’

  She searched for something to say, some words to fill the yawning chasm that had suddenly opened up inside her as she racked her brain for any mention of a fiancée. She couldn’t r
ecall Scotty ever so much as hinting at dating.

  All she could muster was ‘When is it?’

  ‘Christmas Eve,’ Scotty replied.

  The words jolted her back to the present moment. ‘Christmas Eve? But that’s —’

  ‘In two weeks. I know!’ he crowed. ‘Isn’t it crazy?’

  That’s one word for it, Claire thought.

  CHAPTER THREE

  ‘Christmas Eve?’ Jackie said incredulously. ‘But that’s a Sunday. Who gets married on a Sunday? That’s so cheap.’

  ‘Jackie, you’re missing the point,’ Claire wailed. ‘The point is Scotty’s getting married. To a woman he’s known for a month. How can he do this?’

  Jackie pursed her lips and twisted her thick red hair into a tight ponytail. She pulled a lurid fuchsia swimming cap over the top. ‘I’m sorry, I can’t think straight until I cool off,’ she said. ‘You coming in?’

  Claire followed her friend to the pool’s edge, suddenly absurdly grateful that Jackie was such an early riser. The swimming pool was virtually deserted at seven a.m., even though the outside temperature was already nudging thirty degrees. The city’s roads would be choked with traffic by now as the masses flocked to set up camp on Sydney’s iconic beaches for the day. She was glad of the comparative peace of the suburban leisure centre where Jackie swam laps religiously every Saturday morning.

  Claire eased into the pool and felt momentarily soothed. It had been a sleepless night – the stifling heat would have been enough to keep her awake even without the roiling thoughts clogging her brain – and the still water was a balm to her agitated soul. Even the Christmas songs playing on repeat over the tinny speakers felt comforting rather than grating.

  Jackie began an easy side crawl. ‘So,’ she said, ‘who is she?’

  ‘Her name is Nina,’ Claire replied, matching her stroke for stroke. ‘She’s American.’

  ‘How long has she been in Australia? How did they meet?’

  ‘I don’t know, I didn’t ask any of that! I was too stunned by the whole marrying-a-stranger thing. All I know is that she’s a yoga teacher.’ She couldn’t help the way Nina’s occupation came out sounding like an insult.

  ‘Bondawillop has a yoga studio? I thought you said it was the back of beyond.’

  ‘Bindallarah. And it is the back of beyond. At least, it used to be. When I left it didn’t even have a coffee shop,’ she said. ‘But, again, that’s not the point.’

  They reached the end of the pool and kicked off the wall to head back the way they’d come. ‘Then what is the point, Claire?’ Jackie said, slightly breathless. ‘The guy’s getting married. So what? You’re sort-of-kind-of maybe just friends. You didn’t want to date him. Is he not supposed to date anyone else?’

  No, he’s not!

  Claire drew in a sharp breath as the words rushed to the tip of her tongue. Thankfully, she bit them back before they were able to tumble out. She didn’t really feel that way. Of course Scotty could date. He should date. He should fall madly in love and live blissfully ever after. She wanted him to be happy. After everything she’d put him through over the years, she wanted happiness for Scotty even more than she wanted it for herself.

  But how could he be happy with a woman he’d only known for four weeks? And why hadn’t he ever mentioned Nina in his emails to Claire? A fiancée was a pretty significant life event to leave out when catching up with a former flame.

  ‘He never said a word about her,’ Claire said miserably. ‘Not once. He’s my friend. He is,’ she said, when Jackie rolled her eyes, ‘and friends are meant to tell each other when they fall head over heels in love.’

  Jackie stopped swimming. ‘Maybe he didn’t know how to tell you,’ she said, treading water in the middle of the lane. ‘You know what men are like – they’re not exactly fans of sharing their feelings. It was probably easier for him to stick his head in the sand than to worry that you’d feel . . . you know.’

  Claire didn’t know. ‘That I’d feel what?’

  ‘Well, stupid.’ Jackie switched to freestyle and powered down the lane, leaving Claire staring slack-jawed after her.

  ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ she said when she caught up with her friend. ‘Why would Scotty worry that I’d feel stupid?’

  Jackie sighed. ‘I know you say you’re not carrying a torch for him —’

  ‘I’m not!’ Claire interrupted.

  Jackie held up her hands in a gesture of surrender. ‘Okay, okay, I believe you. But what if Scotty thinks you are?’

  Claire suddenly felt like all the air had been sucked out of the room. He couldn’t possibly think that. Could he?

  ‘I mean, the guy is hot,’ Jackie went on. At Claire’s sharp look she added, ‘Hey, I might prefer the ladies myself, but that doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate a fine male specimen when I see one. Men with the sort of magnetism that Scotty Shannon has always assume women are interested in them, because women always are interested in them. Especially old girlfriends who track them down out of the blue after eight years.’

  Claire groaned as the truth of Jackie’s statement crashed over her like a wave. Scotty thought Claire was still in love with him. And because he was kind and considerate and always gentle with her feelings, he hadn’t wanted to embarrass her by admitting he was in love with someone else – that he would never want her again – until the last possible moment.

  What an idiot she’d been to imagine for even a moment that Scotty might still have feelings for her. Why had she even entertained the thought when all she wanted from him was his friendship? She never should have agreed to meet him. She should have been content with his occasional presence in her inbox. She’d brought this torment on herself.

  And it was torment. As foolish as she felt, it didn’t change the fact that Scotty was about to marry a woman he barely knew. That was what was really bothering her. It was such a reckless decision. When he’d dropped his bombshell in the pub last night, Claire had heard herself offering congratulations, had felt her face contort into a shell-shocked smile. But inside, she was stunned – and horrified. Why would he do something so rash? Scotty had always been decisive, always gone after what he wanted, but not without proper planning and consideration. She didn’t need to know this Nina person to know that proposing to someone four weeks after meeting them, and rushing to tie the knot two weeks after that, was just crazy. He couldn’t know she was The One yet. Nobody could make such a huge decision so quickly.

  Claire had known Scotty her whole life, had loved him for more than five years when he proposed to her, and even then she hadn’t been sure.

  ‘Okay, let’s say you’re right,’ Claire said. ‘How do I make him see that this wedding is a huge mistake without him thinking I want him for myself?’

  ‘You don’t,’ said Jackie.

  ‘But he can’t marry her, Jac. It will be a disaster!’

  She hadn’t even told Jackie the worst part: that Scotty actually wanted her at the wedding. There wasn’t an ice cube’s chance on this sweltering day that she would go. Attend her oldest friend’s ill-conceived wedding to a stranger in a town she despised? She would rather take rectal temperature readings from flatulent horses every day of her life.

  ‘How do you know? You haven’t met this Nina. Maybe they’re meant for each other.’

  It was Claire’s turn to roll her eyes.

  ‘And even if they’re not,’ Jackie continued, ‘having a terrible, awful, disastrous marriage is their prerogative. Scotty’s a grown man, Claire. This wedding might be a mistake, but it’s his mistake to make. You’ve got to let him live his life.’

  ‘I might have known you’d take his side. You won’t even give me an appropriate amount of time to decide on a sandwich. You probably think Scotty should have proposed after their first date.’ Claire pouted slightly for effect.

  Jackie laughed. ‘I’m on your side, you nutter,’ she said, giving Claire’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze. ‘Which is why I don’t want to s
ee you driving yourself crazy over this. Want to swim a few more laps?’

  ‘Nah. I’m going to grab a juice and head home before it’s too hot to set foot outside,’ she said. ‘I could use a nap, too. Didn’t get much sleep last night.’

  Jackie smiled and plunged back into the water. Claire climbed out of the pool, towelled off and threw her loose T-shirt dress over her damp swimsuit. Scotty’s a grown man, Jackie had said. She was right – he was nearly thirty and more than capable of making his own decisions. But he had always been a grown-up, really. Even when they were teenagers, Scotty had seemed older than his years. Decisive to the point of stubbornness – it was almost impossible to unmake Scotty’s mind once he’d made it up. He was sensible when Claire was brash, reliable when she was flighty. He unravelled every mess she got herself into. She could always count on him. Scotty was her safe harbour.

  Now she felt like she didn’t know him at all. This just wasn’t the Scotty she knew – and even though they hadn’t been in each other’s lives for a while, she did know him. They knew each other better than anybody. She was missing something, some piece of the puzzle that would explain why he was two weeks away from doing something so completely illogical. If only she could spend some more time with him, talk some sense into him, try to make him see why this wedding was a colossal mistake.

  Claire picked up her bag and fumbled inside for her mobile phone. A missed call flashed up on the screen.

  Vanessa.

  A pang of guilt caused her stomach to clench as she dialled her voicemail and played her aunt’s message.

  ‘Hello, darling, it’s Vee,’ Vanessa’s melodious voice said. ‘I just called you at work and they said you’re off until the new year. I’m sure you already have plans, but sweetheart, if you’re free we would love to have you come back to Bindy for Christmas. Do give me a tinkle when you can. Love you!’

  The excitement in Vanessa’s voice was palpable. Her heart felt heavy as she thought of her sweet aunt spending another Christmas in that dustbowl town with her daughter, Claire’s cousin Augusta, and nobody else. Since Claire’s father had died, Vanessa and Gus were all that remained of the Bindallarah Thornes.