Sometimes Moments

by Len Webster

  “You were too busy loving city life,” Peyton stated as she turned the knob and opened the door, feeling the instant hit of the harsh wind.

  “What can I say? I loved being in proper clubs in Toorak rather than Jay Preston’s pub that was turned into a ‘club’ on the weekends. It’s so much better than Daylesford,” Madilynne bragged with a gleam in her voice.

  “I know. You tell me every time we chat, Mads,” Peyton pointed out as she took a step onto the back porch.

  “Well, get your ass here and we can celebrate anything and every—what is that sound? It sounds like a wind tunnel or something.”

  A crash of thunder made Peyton jump.

  “Jesus, Peyton, are you in that storm? Dude, get inside!”

  The worry in Madilynne’s voice had Peyton letting out a chuckle.

  “It’s a little rain. I’m just going to move what I can into the shed. Is it bad in the city?” Peyton asked as she walked over to a fallen patio chair.

  “It’s not just raining. Seriously, I heard thunder. You’re outside, aren’t you? That’s why I can hear it so clear. I don’t think you should be on your phone while you’re out in that weather. You could get hit by lightning or something!” Madilynne’s voice hitched a little higher.

  “The odds of that happening are low. And who cares if I do? Means I don’t have to deal with you coming home,” Peyton teased.

  “Hey! I can’t believe you said that. You know that I need your reference for when I apply for management positions.” Madilynne let out a huff.

  “Relax, Mads. Just make sure you’re here by the end of next week. This’ll be fun. It’ll be good to have you back in Daylesford,” Peyton said as she picked up the fallen chair. Another deafening rumble filled the air, much closer to where Peyton stood.

  “You are the only reason why I’m looking forward to coming home. Mum and Dad complaining that I didn’t become a doctor or a lawyer—or even worse, a politician—is not one of them. Seriously, Peyton, I’m going to hang up now. I will not be an accessory to your death by natural elements. I’ll see you soon and please hurry up and get inside. Don’t think I won’t call someone to make you,” Madilynne warned.

  “You’re so dramatic. I’ll see you when you come home. Don’t forget to call me when you’ve passed Ryder’s spot.”

  A loud crash had Peyton looking over to see that the gate had flown open.

  “I’ll call you from Ryder’s,” Madilynne confirmed before they both hung up.

  Ryder’s spot was a short pole on the side of the highway that marked the exact spot where Daniel Ryder had walked almost ten kilometres—drunk—before passing out. The next day, his friends had placed a pole and the exact beer can he had held in his hand to mark the spot. Ryder was famous in town for it, but he had no recollection of it. It was the night he’d drunk away the memory of his girlfriend leaving him. It also became a saying: “Do a Ryder, walk a tenner.”

  Turning around, Peyton walked back into the kitchen and placed her phone on the bench. Another bang of the gate had her sighing. If the latch was broken, it would be a sleepless night with the noise.

  Leaving the house, she walked towards one of the chairs and picked it up before going down the steps to the shed. Rain drenched her and the wind hit her hard. By the time Peyton placed the chair inside the shed, she had to wipe her face with her cold hands. She panted, trying to get her breath back.

  After another roll of thunder, she ran back to the porch to retrieve another chair. She continued to do this until all six chairs were stacked away. In the end, her ponytail was dripping wet and her body started to shiver. Exiting the shed, Peyton looked over at the swinging gate. She debated, deciding to leave it and get back inside the warm house. The gate could be fixed later when the rain had lightened.

  A glimpse of a shadow caught her eye and Peyton stopped. Glaring, she saw a black cat sitting on the grass. It was Mrs West’s cat, Mr Lucky. He was a strange cat, hated the sun but loved the rain. Peyton knew Mrs West would be looking for him and decided to return him.

  While approaching the gate, Peyton didn’t take her eyes off the cat. She walked slowly, ensuring she didn’t startle it.

  Then she raised her hands up and said ever so slowly, “Hey, Mr Lucky. You’re far from home. Let me take you back so you can get warm.”

  The cat lifted its head before it meowed at her. She ignored her shivers and slowly walked towards Mr Lucky, smiling when he didn’t immediately run from her. Peyton carefully stopped in front of him then placed her hands on her knees and bent down.

  “Who’s the good cat? Come here,” Peyton said and started to reach for him.

  Mr Lucky let out another meow before he bolted past Peyton and into her backyard.

  “Damn cat!” she cursed. “You get back here, you little shit!”

  Peyton quickly turned around and saw Mr Lucky sitting in the middle of her garden—smirking—before she just caught a glimpse of the gate swinging towards her and then saw black.

  “You two have never kissed before? Like, never?” Martha asked, disbelieving. She sculled back her beer and placed it on the ground, next to her feet.

  Martha Downs was the daughter of the town’s sergeant. Her being invited to their bonfire parties was mainly because she could get anyone off the hook if they were caught drinking underage. However, most things in town were overlooked or ignored. If you stirred up trouble, then the law book would be handed to you.

  Peyton turned her head and stared at Callum, who was watching the fire intently. She looked back at Martha and shook her head.

  “No. We’re best friends,” Peyton simply stated.

  Martha’s mouth gaped and her forehead creased as she looked at Peyton in disbelief before she pointed at a couple near a tree. “See, Taylor and Kenny are just friends and they’re making out. You guys are constantly around each other. The way you both act… You’re like a couple.”

  Peyton let out a nervous laugh. Sometimes she believed they could be a couple. She’d had that belief since she was thirteen, when he’d held her hand as they walked down Main Street, but she had thought too much into it.

  “We’re just—”

  “Why don’t you both just kiss? Show us all that you’re both just friends,” Martha said, cocking her brow and interrupting Peyton.

  “I... Uhh...” Peyton mumbled and picked up her cup of Coke from the ground. She took a long sip as the party around them silenced and all eyes focused on her.

  “Come on,” Martha said as she smirked and played with her curly ponytail.

  “Yeah! Do it!” someone behind Peyton yelled.

  “Knock it off, Martha. You get stupid when you drink,” Madilynne said, taking a seat next to Peyton.

  “Please, Mads. I’m just as curious about these two as the rest of the town. I can speak my mind. My Daddy’s the sergeant, remember?”

  Madilynne let out a short laugh. “Yeah, and you never let us forget it. If we’re going by social status, then I should remind you whose daddy is the mayor who employs your daddy.”

  Madilynne hated to use her father’s title, but when Martha talked, Madilynne always had the urge to shut her down. It made for some interesting fights between the two.

  “Come on, Pey. We’re getting out of here,” Callum said, getting up from his chair.

  She looked up at him and he continued to stare at the fire, waiting for her.

  “Callum, Martha’s just being a teasing bitch. Stay and party with us,” Madilynne said.

  But Peyton knew otherwise. The tensing in his jaw told her that something was worrying him.

  Standing up, Peyton looked at Madilynne. “I’ll see you later.”

  “But it’s not even one yet,” her best friend argued.

  “I have to get her home before her dad realises she snuck out, Mads. We’ll see you later,” Callum said and started to walk away.

  Peyton gave Madilynne an apologetic shrug before chasing after Callum. He didn’t say anything as they walked a
way from the forest near the boathouse, past her parents’ hotel, and towards their street.

  Peyton had always wondered what it would be like to kiss Callum, but she knew better. They were friends. Though it had hurt seeing him kiss Tasha Morecombe at Peyton’s sixteenth birthday party, it was the realisation she’d needed. So she’d buried her feelings deep.

  When they arrived at their street, he surprisingly took her hand and led her quietly to the side gate of her house. Her heartbeat sped up at the feel of his touch, but she swallowed hard to ignore the bliss she felt.

  Callum let go of her hand the moment they made it to her bedroom window. She leant on the tree and watched as he lifted it up. The brightness of the moon gave her the light needed to see him and the cherry blossoms that fell on the shirt he was wearing.

  A girl could only dream of the day when Callum Reid asked her to be his. For Peyton, she wouldn’t be that lucky girl. She’d rather be his friend than nothing at all. It was a sacrifice her heart hated making.

  Callum moved the curtains, and she watched as he looked into her room. When he glanced over at Peyton, he gave her a restrained smile.

  “It’s clear. Doesn’t look like your parents noticed. The house is quiet,” he stated and leant against the weatherboards of her house.

  The worry in his eyes had her frowning. “Callum, does it annoy you that people in town think more of what we actually are?”

  He tensed. “Peyton…”

  “Are you embarrassed at the thought of kissing me?” she asked, a little hurt.

  “No,” he whispered.

  Her heart threw itself against her ribcage. Not the answer she had been expecting.

  So she pushed off the tree and took a step forward. “Then kiss me.”

  He looked at her, surprised. “I don’t think—”

  “Prove to me that we’re just friends. What are you afraid of? It’s just a kiss.”

  “It’s not, Peyton.”

  “It is. What are you so afraid of?” she asked, tilting her head up at him.

  He let out a sigh and said, “Of falling further for you than I already am.”

  Callum said it so softly that she almost missed it. She looked at him in shock at his confession. Before she could even comment or reply, he grabbed her and crashed his lips onto hers, searing her heart as his for eternity.

  Warmth surrounded her. It wasn’t just a sensation that lasted mere seconds; it was prolonging. She snuggled into it and smelt wood burning. Then she opened her eyes to see the glass coffee table of her lounge room in front of her. She bunched her eyebrows at the sight. Not what she had expected to see. Her eyes wandered as she started to slowly remember her last memory before the darkness.

  “That damn cat,” she mumbled as she tried to move, a blanket tight around her restricting her attempt to sit up.

  “Careful, Peyton. Slowly,” a voice instructed.

  She lifted her eyes up from the coffee table to see Callum walking into the room. He checked on the fireplace before he kneeled and set a cup on the table.

  “Why are you in my house, Callum?” Peyton asked, groggy.

  She pulled her arms from under the blanket and then sat up too quickly. Her head pounded heavily and she placed a hand on her forehead, trying to soothe the ache away.

  Callum sat beside her and cradled her cheeks in his hands, steadying her face as he looked over her.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Making sure that you’re okay. I think you should be fine. Do you need me to take you to a doctor or the local hospital?” Callum dropped his hands from her face and adjusted the blanket to cover her up more.

  “I... Uhh, what?” she asked, confused.

  “I found you near the gate unconscious in the storm, Peyton. What were you thinking? I found your phone on the bench once I brought you inside. Your last call was to Mads eight hour ago. I found you two hours ago. That means you were unconscious out there for almost six hours. Lucky you had that jacket on.”

  “There was a cat,” she explained as she pulled the blanket off her. Then her eyes widened and she quickly covered herself, her cheeks heating instantly. “Umm, care to explain?”

  Callum looked down and then back at her, his cheeks turning a rosy red. “Your jeans were soaked, so I had to pull them off you. You were out cold. I tried to wake you, but it was no use. So I, ahh, took the initiative and took your pants off.”

  “Wow. Makes me glad that I wear underwear. So when sexual deviants like Callum Reid take off your pants when you’re unconscious, nothing is on show. Please tell me you didn’t do it on my lawn.”

  “No, Peyton. I brought you into the house and put you on the couch. I made sure you were okay and had the fire going before I removed your pants,” Callum explained with a slight smirk on his face.

  Peyton wrapped the cream blanket around her tighter and stood up from the couch. “I feel very violated right now.” Then she looked down at Callum, the colour in his cheeks fading.

  “You’re upset that I took your pants off but you’re not even gonna thank me for bringing you in. Peyton, you were unconscious. What happened to you?”

  She let out an irritated huff. “I was trying to get Mrs West’s cat and then I guess I didn’t see the gate swing forward from the wind. You know you could have just left me there. I don’t need saving.”

  Callum stood up and looked down at her. “I wasn’t going to leave you out there. Do you really think I could live with myself if I just saw you on the ground and walked away?”

  Her heart leapt. That wasn’t something she’d wanted to hear. Her heart wanted to be saved, but she knew Callum Reid wouldn’t save her. If anything, he’d ruin her…further.

  “Thank you,” she said softly. “I feel really uncomfortable knowing that you’ve seen me in my underwear. I might go shower, scrub off the humiliation, and then change.”

  “Peyton, I’ve seen you in far less than underwear. Grab a shower. I’ll make you a new cuppa and then I’ll check out that bump you have.” His voice had softened, almost echoing the same way he’d spoken at seventeen.

  She had believed him then. Now, standing wrapped in a blanket and with her hair slightly damp, she still believed him.

  “Callum, that’s nice of you, but—”

  He took a step forward and cupped her face in his hands. Just the feel of his fingers on her skin had Peyton biting the inside of her cheek and trying to control the tension in her chest. Callum turned her head slightly and inspected the side of her face.

  “What are you doing?” she asked.

  “You said I was nice. I gotta make sure you don’t have a concussion. There’s no way that you’d say anything so pleasant about me,” he teased. Then his lips tugged upwards and Peyton saw the seventeen-year-old in him.

  Back before the universe had tested her, she would always kiss him once that sweet smile appeared. Now, she had to be cautious of it to keep her heart safe.

  She took a step back. “You’re right. Concussion has me rambling lies.”

  His smile quickly faded and that glimmer of the past left his eyes. Instead, the cold version of the boy she’d once loved stood in front of her. The want for the past to be reality was hitting her. If she could have the past, she’d have him and her parents back in her life.

  But that wasn’t how the universe worked. Because even when you’d lost it all, the world continued around you. It continued to create and take away. Continued to give beauty and inflict pain. Life was the never-ending journey of air and breaths. To live and to die. A domino effect of decisions and outcomes, each affecting each other. For Peyton, Callum and her parents’ deaths were just that. One after the other, she’d lost them.

  “How about you take a bath, instead, and I’ll make you something to eat,” Callum offered.

  She flinched, taken aback by his suggestion. “Thanks, but you should go home.”

  He closed his eyes and breathed in heavily before he looked back at her. “Peyton, if I hadn’t found
you, who would?”

  Her shoulders sagged. He’d just won the argument she hadn’t wanted to have. She wanted him out of her house and to draw up a plan on him staying away.

  “Someone would have…eventually.”

  “Exactly. Eventually. Maybe the next day or the day after that. What if it had been worse than it really was? Peyton, you could have died from natural exposure or brain swelling… Anything for Christ’s sake.”

  The straining vein in his neck caught her attention. This was too much involvement for someone who had left her to grow up in the small town they’d promised to leave behind.

  “God! Why can’t you be like other men in this world?” she asked as she held the blanket securely around her.

  Callum let out a sigh and his muscles and posture loosened. “And what do other men in this world do?”

  She glared at him, noticing his pupils dilating. “They break up with a girl and never call or see her again. Why can’t you do that?”

  He mirrored her glare. “I did do that, but I can’t continue to do it. Now stop arguing with me and just go have a bath!”

  Peyton looked up at the ceiling and mumbled a curse before she marched past him towards the bathroom. “May God let me get hit by lightning while I’m in that tub!” she yelled angrily to him.

  When she reached the bathroom door, she looked up at the ceiling. “God, if you’re listening to me, then you should know you made the wrong decision. You had to go and make that son of a bitch save me. Should have let me die, Big Man. It’d be less painful and I would have appreciated it more.”

  Peyton sat in the tub with her arms crossed over her breasts and murmured her displeasure. Though she enjoyed the warm water relieving her achy muscles, she was still bitter about her saviour. It killed her inside that he had been the one to find her. If she hadn’t tried to get Mrs West’s cat, she’d have avoided all of this.

  “Fucking Mr Lucky!” she cursed as she untangled her arms and placed them on the sides of the porcelain freestanding bathtub. “I’m going to kill that cat!” she promised before she submerged herself under the water.