A Tale of Three Christmases

by Eva Scott

  ‘As long as we’re playing twenty questions,’ she turned the tables on him, ‘where do you hail from?’

  He smiled, having been caught at his own game. ‘Sydney boy born and bred. Moving from the western suburbs to the northern beaches has been my biggest transition. I studied electronic engineering at Sydney University. Married my childhood sweetheart. Made my fortune with a little control system I designed for the automotive industry, got into the manufacturing of it and here I am.’ It was his turn to shrug, as if his sitting in her kitchen was the natural by-product of the life he’d lived to date.

  ‘Wow. And here you are.’ She curbed the desire to ask him why he was here and not at home with his wife. None of her business. Instead she retrieved some tomatoes from the fridge and began to slice them for the salad.

  ‘Can I help you with anything?’

  Lexie started, realising he now stood inches from her, the heat radiating off his body in waves.

  ‘I … I don’t think so,’ she stumbled. ‘You’re my guest and you should be doing … guesty things.’

  ‘I’ve never stayed at a bed and breakfast before, or on a farm for that matter. I’m not sure I know what guesty things are.’

  Neither did she, but she thought better than to say so. Someone ought to write a manual on how to wrangle guests for beginners. Someone probably had.

  ‘You could go for a walk in the orchard. It’s lovely this time of the afternoon.’ She nodded towards the kitchen window and the rows of leafy green trees growing beyond.

  ‘A walk?’ He sounded as if she’d suggested he take up snake catching as a hobby. ‘What if I’d rather stay here and talk with you?’

  Heat stole its way along her neck, threatening to reveal her discomfort. Part of her wanted him to stay, part of her wanted him to leave immediately and never return. She sliced a tomato in half with more force than necessary. It wasn’t supposed to be this challenging. Guests were supposed to come, entertain themselves all day and she’d see them at breakfast and maybe dinner. They weren’t supposed to hang around and get underfoot.

  ‘Are you wanting dinner this evening, or will you take a run into town?’ She kept her focus on the lettuce, which she methodically tore apart leaf by leaf.

  ‘I think I’d like dinner here.’

  She’d been worried he’d say that.

  ‘Then I need to press on with preparation, and I’ve still got work to do in the packing shed. Why don’t you take a wander around the property?’ Her voice sounded too bright and brittle.

  He took a pause, but not a step backwards. He was too close for comfort.

  ‘Okay,’ he said. ‘Any chance I could get lost?’

  Lexie smiled. ‘I hardly think so. Just keep an eye out for snakes.’

  ‘Snakes?’ His eyes widened.

  ‘Don’t worry, they’re no more interested in meeting you than you are in them. Walk heavy so they know you’re coming.’

  ‘Walk heavy. Good advice. All right then, I’ll be off.’ He turned back at the kitchen door. ‘If I’m not back by sunset, come look for me.’

  She shook her head and allowed herself a smile as the back door banged shut behind him. His footsteps echoed along the veranda, thumped down the steps and were gone into the garden and beyond.

  Blissfully alone, her tension began to recede and her shoulders relaxed. Having someone around the house after being on her own for so long was proving to be harder than she’d anticipated—and it was only day one.

  She ran her knife around an avocado, splitting it in half, and carefully extracted the nut with a flick. It rolled across the kitchen top, skittling into the carrots like a miniature bowling ball.

  Tonight’s menu consisted of steak and salad with a homemade cheesecake for dessert. Elegant in its simplicity, she hoped. She sliced the avocado into slender lengths as she ran through what was left of her to-do list. The beehives in the western section of the orchard needed checking. The packing shed needed to be cleaned even though they were weeks away from using it. Staying on top of the task, doing a little constantly, sure beat doing a lot all at once.

  She slid the finished salad into the fridge and surveyed the room. Should she serve dinner in here tonight? No, the kitchen table had been the scene of shared meals with Malcolm. Eating here with Geoff seemed discordant somehow. She’d set up a table on the veranda, add a few candles. Geoff could dine outside in the balmy night air, taking in the setting sun with a cold beer.

  Decided, she grabbed Malcolm’s old broad-brimmed hat from the peg near the back door and headed out to check the hives, stopping on the veranda to see if she could spot Geoff in the orchard. She couldn’t see him.

  The trees stood in rows, whispering to each other in the wind. The air, filled with the sound of cicadas, hung heavy with heat. Lexie checked the horizon where billowing cumulus nimbus clouds promised evening rain.

  Jamming the hat on her head, she began the long walk to the beehives, her boots crunching on the dirt access road that crisscrossed the orchard.

  Although she couldn’t see him, she could sense Geoff’s presence on the farm, as if his energy had shifted the balance somehow. The awkwardness between them threw her. Would it always be like this with guests, or was it Geoff-specific? Maybe she’d get better at making small talk with practice. Right now, the oddness of it made her wonder if running a B & B really suited her personality.

  The phone in her back pocket vibrated.

  Lexie didn’t look at the number. She didn’t need to.

  ‘Hello, Bea.’

  ‘So?’

  Lexie sighed. ‘So what?’ she said, enjoying torturing her sister.

  ‘If you don’t give me details, so help me I will drive up there and see for myself.’

  ‘We both know that’s never going to happen, city girl. Let me spare you the pain.’ Lexie did a quick glance about in case Geoff was nearby. ‘He’s an engineer, lives in Sydney, married, tall, handsome in a battered kind of way and he loves my scones.’

  ‘He’s married?’ She could almost hear Bea’s brain calculating the possibilities.

  ‘He said so. Guess it must be true.’

  ‘Then where is she?’

  ‘Maybe she’s working or something. I don’t know. I haven’t asked and before you interrupt, I’m not intending to.’ Lexie stopped under the shade of an avocado tree. ‘It’s none of my business.’

  ‘Married men don’t go off to random B & Bs in the country on their own for Christmas. It’s unheard of,’ said Bea.

  ‘And you’d be an expert on that?’ Lexie laughed. ‘Honestly, Bea, let it go. If he is in the market he’s highly unlikely to pick someone like me.’

  ‘I think you’re being too harsh on yourself. You have a lot to offer, Lexie Hamilton, and don’t you forget it.’

  ‘The man in question is walking up the track towards me so I have to go,’ Lexie whispered into the phone. ‘Don’t call me again unless it’s a national or personal crisis, okay?’ She hung up before Bea could get another word in.

  ‘Hello,’ she called to Geoff as she stepped out of the shade. He stopped and screened his eyes against the sun, a smile unfolding on his face.

  ‘Fancy running into you out here.’ He moved with the easy grace of an athlete.

  ‘Are you enjoying your walk?’ Small talk practice.

  ‘All the more since running into you.’

  Lexie’s short supply of chatter dried up. Was he flirting with her? Or teasing her? How could she tell? Bea would know.

  ‘I’m heading down to check on some hives. Do you want to come?’ She hadn’t meant to ask him. The words tumbled out of their own accord.

  ‘I’d love to.’ He fell easily into step beside her. ‘I wouldn’t have picked you for a beekeeper.’

  ‘Native bees. We need them for pollination, so we keep several hives on the property. I wouldn’t call myself a beekeeper, more a bee monitor.’

  ‘Or a bee custodian.’ He shoved his hands in his pockets and shortene
d his stride to match hers.

  ‘Exactly,’ she said. As the sound of their footfalls crunching on the dirt fell into sync, she wondered whether this would get easier with practice after all.

  She’d appeared like a wood sprite, emerging from the shadows of an avocado tree. It was as if he’d conjured her up by thinking about her.

  Geoff had been wandering along the access roads between the orchard rows, pondering Lexie and what made a woman like that tick. She’d captivated his imagination with her spirit, not to mention the way those jeans hugged her trim hips. Then to discover she kept bees while single-handedly running an avocado orchard helped him forget why he was here in the first place.

  He kept pace with her, enjoying the way their footsteps sounded like one as they marched along in the afternoon sunshine. Geoff sensed a reserve in Lexie, a reluctance to engage, which made her invitation all the sweeter. If he approached her gently, she might relax a little.

  ‘So, when do you harvest these babies?’ He gestured to the trees, their green pear-shaped fruit evident amongst the leaves, immediately regretting the use of the word babies.

  ‘Do you know anything about avocados?’

  ‘Nothing at all,’ said Geoff cheerfully. ‘Except how to smash them on toast or whip up guacamole.’

  Lexie smiled. ‘These are Hass avocados. We’ve had a strong flowering this season, so we should be good for harvest next month.’

  ‘And that’s why you need the bees for pollination, right?’

  She turned and treated him to a proper full-wattage smile. ‘Right.’

  He felt pleased with himself, as if he were a schoolboy who’d passed a test.

  ‘Here are some of the hives.’ Lexie indicated three sturdy white boxes standing in between the trees.

  He followed her, cautiously, even though there wasn’t a bee to be seen. Where were they all? Afternoon nap?

  ‘There are about fifty thousand bees in one box.’

  ‘Seriously? There’s one hundred and fifty thousand bees in these hives alone? That’s very specific.’ He found that hard to believe.

  She laughed. ‘We rent all these hives. As you know, we need the bees for pollination, but I couldn’t manage to look after ten hives as well as everything else. Come over here and have a listen.’ She waved him over to stand beside her. He hesitated.

  ‘Are you allergic to bees or merely terrified of them?’

  ‘Terrified. I stepped on three of them in rapid succession once when I was playing cricket. I was only twelve years old. My feet swelled up like footballs. I couldn’t walk on them and it hurt like hell. I’ve never forgiven those bees.’

  ‘I’m sure they felt the same way about you. You took three of them out. Think of the bees they left behind, wondering what happened, why they didn’t come home.’ She looked so serious it took a moment for him to realise she was teasing him.

  ‘Next time I’ll send flowers, those big lilies with the orange pollen that stains.’

  ‘Come on, they won’t hurt you.’ She bent down, tucking a wayward strand of hair, the colour of burnished mahogany, behind one ear. Tilting her head, eyes closed, she listened to the secret conversations of the hive.

  Intrigued, Geoff inched closer.

  She looked up at him, hazel eyes flecked with green and gold, beckoning him to crouch beside her. All her reserve lost to her passion for her bees. ‘Listen,’ she whispered.

  He did as he was bid, hearing nothing at first, then a steady vibration like a small engine was trapped within the box.

  ‘Wow.’ He turned in amazement to find Lexie grinning at his reaction.

  ‘Magic, isn’t it?’

  Their eyes caught and held; the universe contracted until it contained only the two of them. He held his breath as the moment stretched, unsure of where it was going or how it would end. It was as if he’d slipped under her guard and arrived in her private world. Her eyes widened, emotions he couldn’t identify flickering across her face. He hadn’t realised she had a smattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose. He wanted to kiss one.

  Lexie broke contact first, standing up so quick Geoff almost lost his balance.

  ‘Okay,’ she said, all business. ‘I need to get back. I’ve got … stuff to do.’ She dusted her hands on her jeans.

  ‘Stuff.’ Geoff nodded as if he knew exactly what that meant. ‘I might finish my walk.’

  ‘Good,’ said Lexie, sticking her hands in her back pockets.

  ‘Great,’ he said as he stuffed his hands in his pockets.

  ‘Dinner will be at six.’ She backed up and turned to leave.

  ‘Thanks for the bee experience,’ he called after her.

  Without stopping, she raised a hand in acknowledgement. He watched her until she disappeared among the trees.

  What the hell had just happened? He could tell by the look of surprise on her face that she’d felt it too. Maybe it was a little bee magic doing its work, maybe it was something else. He rested a hand on the white wooden box, no longer nervous about being stung, hoping that moment was more than a shared appreciation of their little worker friends.

  Suddenly, spending Christmas alone in a country bed and breakfast didn’t seem like a sad situation for a middle-aged divorced man. Now it felt like fate.

  Chapter 3

  The note propped up against the salt shaker, sitting in the middle of the kitchen table, stopped Lexie in her tracks. She approached it gingerly, as if it had teeth.

  Thought it might be nice if we shared Christmas dinner together tonight.

  In the spirit of Christmas.

  In case you were planning to sit in another room. By yourself.

  Go on, be adventurous!

  Your guest, Geoff.

  He signed off as if she might have forgotten who he was. She figured he meant it as a dig at the way she’d managed to avoid him for the last forty-eight hours. It hadn’t been difficult. Lexie had simply stayed out working until she saw his car leave on whatever adventure he’d devised for himself.

  Dinners had been easily avoided too. She told him she’d already eaten and needed a bath. As she nearly always looked like someone had dragged her through a haystack backwards, it hadn’t been hard to convince him.

  Now Christmas Day had arrived, she didn’t have an excuse. All her morning chores were done and there was nothing left to do but to begin preparations for Christmas dinner. And he was right. It would be weird if he sat in one room, and she in another, both eating Christmas dinner alone. While the thought had tragic overtones, sitting through a dinner with Geoff in such close proximity set off alarm bells. He was so damn … magnetic.

  Malcolm hadn’t been like that. At all. He’d been the quiet, reliable type. Cute, without being handsome. Smart, without being intellectual. Never magnetic.

  Lexie crumpled up the note and threw it in the bin.

  She’d think about it.

  Setting to work on a roast pork, the kind with rich dark crackling, she primed the oven and got out her largest baking pan.

  All the time her mind kept going back to the look on Geoff’s face as he heard the bees for the first time. The look of wonder, followed by another look, one she recognised and refused to name.

  She banged a pot down on top of the stove, preparing to parboil the potatoes for baking.

  Lexie knew that look. Malcolm had had it once. She remembered the moment as if it happened this morning. They’d been sitting in the student bar at university, already friends. They’d both reached for the same beer, both claiming ownership. Lexie had laughed as their hands touched. Malcolm’s expression altered in that minute and she’d known, as she knew now, that everything had changed.

  The pork roast safely in the oven, she began to viciously peel the potatoes. Why did she feel so angry? Geoff hadn’t done anything. He’d never even touched her or said anything inappropriate. Yet her anger bubbled and boiled at him like the water on the stove.

  Her phone, perched on the sideboard, began to jangle and
vibrate. It had to be Bea. It was always Bea.

  She wiped her hands on a towel and picked up.

  ‘I thought I told you not to call me unless it concerned a national or personal disaster.’

  ‘I’m having a personal crisis,’ said Bea.

  ‘Not sharing gossip about my guest with you does not constitute a personal crisis,’ said Lexie, tucking the phone under her chin as she began peeling the carrots.

  ‘Would you buy me calling you to say merry Christmas?’

  ‘Hardly. I know you, Bea. I know not having any information about Geoff is killing you. Merry Christmas by the way.’

  ‘So, his name is Geoff?’

  Lexie hated the coquettish way her sister said Geoff. ‘Yes, it is.’ She struggled to hide the annoyance nipping at the edges of her voice. She took it out on a carrot.

  ‘Is he nice?’

  Lexie sighed. ‘Of course he’s nice. And before you ask, he’s not my type.’

  ‘Who said I was going to ask?’

  Both sisters laughed.

  ‘I can’t chat. I’m trying to get dinner on. How about I call you when I’ve got a moment?’

  ‘Okay, but you’ve got to promise me you’ll call and tell me everything.’

  ‘There is nothing to tell—’

  ‘Promise!’

  ‘Okay, okay. I’m not responsible for your disappointment. You’ve been warned.’ She hung up before Bea could get a word in. She turned the phone to mute. If only she could silence her mind as easily.

  The object of her ire wandered into the kitchen, picking an apple out of the bowl of fruit and sinking his perfect white teeth into its crisp flesh.

  ‘Hello,’ he said, between bites.

  ‘Hello,’ she said, between her teeth.

  ‘I see you got my note.’

  Did he know this because the note was missing or because of her tone? Probably both. Lexie blew a loose strand of hair out of her face as she drained the potatoes over the sink.

  ‘I did,’ she said, wishing she didn’t sound so short yet powerless to do anything about it.