Reality Bytes

by Jane Frances

  “I hated her for a while, you know,” Julie said bluntly.

  “Who?” Toni asked as she rolled over to rest her head on her hand. She found Julie had already turned to lie on her side, facing her.

  “Cathy.”

  “Cathy?” Toni couldn’t understand why anybody would hate Cathy. Once Toni was over her own period of malicious thinking, Cathy resumed her ranking as one of the most likable people she had ever met. “Why?”

  “For what she did to you.” Julie picked viciously at the grass. Tufts were grasped between thumb and forefinger then flicked aside. “When she told Sue and me what happened and that you’d left, I was so angry with her I nearly quit on the spot.”

  “I did have a part to play in the whole thing, you know.”

  “She used you.”

  The venom in Julie’s tone took Toni by surprise. “I never knew you felt that strongly about it.”

  “I know.” Another tuft of grass was pulled. Julie studied it before letting it fall through her fingers. “You never even knew I existed. Every day I watched you fall all over yourself for Cathy when all the time…” Julie briefly met Toni’s eyes, smiled ruefully then flung herself onto her back again. “I would have fallen over backwards for you.”

  “Julie…” This admission was totally unexpected and Toni didn’t know how to respond.

  “I don’t hate her anymore.”

  “Well, that’s a relief.” Eager to lighten the tone, but still curious nevertheless, Toni asked, “What made you change your mind? About hating Cathy, I mean.”

  Julie lay silent, considering. “I think it was one of those cases where acting a certain way makes it so. You know, act happy and you’ll be happy. Once I figured it probably wasn’t a good career move to snarl at the boss every time she came near, and I decided I had to at least pretend I liked the woman, I found I actually did start to like her again.” Throughout her explanation, she continued to look to the sky. But now she turned to Toni again and her tone was suddenly shy. “You weren’t too surprised at what I just said.”

  Toni knew Julie was not referring to her act happy/be happy theory. “No. Not surprised. Not that I picked up on it myself though. I kind of got a tip-off from someone.”

  Julie visibly frowned, then groaned. “Let me guess…everyone’s favorite receptionist, Sue.”

  Toni nodded.

  “Bloody woman.” Julie tore at the remaining tufts of grass. “She cornered me one day in the toilets and wouldn’t let me alone till I admitted it. But she promised not to say anything.”

  “Seems like that’s her M.O.”

  “She cornered you too?”

  “Right in front of cubicle one. The first morning back at work after Cathy and I…got together. That was when she let slip about you too.”

  “Bloody gossip’s got the eye of an eagle.”

  “I know. She never misses a trick.”

  Both Toni and Julie fell into silence, Julie concentrating on her grass-pulling and Toni’s thoughts turning unexpectedly to a port city five hundred kilometers away.

  Albany.

  It must have been all the talk of Cathy that made her think of the place. She wondered what Kayisha was doing right now. Was she also outside somewhere, looking up to the night sky? Toni decided she probably wasn’t. Apparently Albany got cold at night. Kayisha was probably in a motel room watching television. Or maybe scouring the real estate section of the local rag for a more permanent place to stay. Toni inwardly sighed. She didn’t like that last thought at all.

  The knowledge of eyes on her drew Toni’s mind from the port city back to Perth. She found that Julie had sat up, arms wrapped around the knees she had drawn to her chest, and she was looking at Toni rather…oddly.

  “What?”

  Julie shook her head as if to stop any words before they could emerge. She looked out to the cityscape.

  For her part, Toni suddenly realized the chill in the air and the beginning of dew on the grass. She sat, brushing at the arms of her windcheater. “It’s getting cold and my bum’s getting wet. Shall we go?”

  “Sure.” Julie jumped to her feet, seemingly thankful for the excuse to move. She held out her hands and Toni accepted them, letting Julie haul her up. “Is there anywhere else you want to go? Get a coffee maybe?”

  Toni thought of the state of her face. “Home’s good.”

  Back at Toni’s, they stood together on the road next to Julie’s car. The driver’s door was wide open and Julie tossed her carryall onto the passenger seat. “Well, I guess I’ll get going then. I’ll give you a call tomorrow.”

  “Okay.” Toni scratched fingers through her hair, uncomfortable because Julie seemed so uncomfortable. The drive home had been rather more sedate than the drive out, and their conversation was, at best, sporadic. Toni was getting the distinct feeling Julie was either desperate to tell her something, or desperately regretting her previous admission. “Thanks for dinner and the drive. The fresh air has done me good.”

  Julie nodded, looked around her and repeated, “Well, I guess I’ll get going then.”

  Toni was in the middle of a nod when hand-sized pools of warmth cupped her cheeks. A different kind of warmth spread across Toni’s lips.

  Then the warmth was gone.

  “I’m sorry,” Julie said as she smiled shyly. “But I’ve wanted to do that for ages.”

  More than a little surprised at the kiss, Toni tried very hard to put an authoritative tone to her voice, but instead it just sounded lame and croaky. “I think you should go home.” She put her hand to her mouth so she could cough and clear her throat, but her hand was pushed away.

  “Your breath is not bad, Toni.”

  Toni hadn’t been thinking that at all, but Julie’s words served as a reminder she hadn’t freshened her mouth in a good couple of hours. She had no time to ponder the notion, however, her mouth once more enveloped. This time the pools of warmth settled on Toni’s hips. And this time Julie’s lips lingered—gentle, soft, insistent.

  “Julie.” Toni did an awkward little backwards waddle. “Stop it.” Her fingers again fled through her hair. “You have a girlfriend.”

  “No, I don’t.”

  “What?” Toni narrowed her eyes, disbelieving. “Anna…?”

  “Anna and I have split.”

  “What?” Toni repeated, finally piecing together the clues Julie had been dropping all evening. All the clues that pointed to her being one unhappy woman. “When?”

  Julie had bent her head so Toni couldn’t see her eyes, but tears must have welled because she swiped at her cheeks. “Yesterday afternoon.”

  “Come on, grab your bag.” Toni waited for Julie to retrieve her carryall and lock up the car. She pointed her in the direction of the front door. “I’ll make us a coffee.”

  “I’m sorry for acting like such a moron before.”

  “I don’t recall any moronic behavior.” For the second time that night they stood beside Julie’s car. The time between Julie’s first attempt at departure and now had been spent on the couch, Toni sipping on coffee while Julie tearfully related the incidents following Anna and her team’s win. Apparently, despite Anna’s promise of a private celebration once home, she had gotten totally wrecked on whiskey at the post-match party. Unable to talk due to her case of the hiccups, she poured herself out of Julie’s car and into her apartment, staggered to the bedroom, fell asleep fully clothed, then slept most all of Sunday. When she did emerge from the bedroom, Julie was treated to verbal replays of the match and the three goals Anna had scored for her team.

  “I’m sick of it.” Julie sobbed to Toni. “I play second fiddle to a ball that floats.”

  Toni recalled how she had lasted only three weeks in the shadow of Heather’s exercise obsession and assured Julie there was nothing wrong or unusual about the way she was currently feeling. She didn’t offer any suggestions; Julie would have to figure for herself if she could live with Anna’s sporting ambitions. But she did point out most balls
do float. To her delight, that comment raised a smile. Within another half-hour Toni had extracted at least three more smiles, enough to declare the night a success.

  “Thanks, Toni.” Julie drew Toni into a hug but this time her kiss landed squarely on her cheek. “You’re the best.”

  “You can tell that to anyone you like.” Toni held the car door open as Julie stepped in.

  “Even Sue?”

  “Especially Sue. That way, soon the whole world will know it.”

  “Speak to you tomorrow.” The car door closed and in seconds Julie’s car had revved into life and disappeared down the street.

  Toni let herself back into the house, turned on the television and stared at it, unseeing, instead wondering what would have happened if she hadn’t told Julie to stop. She quickly surmised—even if Julie had pushed the issue—that nothing would have happened. Toni just didn’t look at her in that way. A sigh of frustration escaped. She must be on the mend to be thinking about having sex with a coworker. Or, more accurately, thinking about not having sex with a coworker.

  Toni turned off the television, took care of her nightly toilet routine and slipped between the sheets.

  All thoughts of Julie fled when Toni’s hand dipped between her thighs. Instead, the form that flickered behind her eyelids was of her own imagination. The woman of her making wore faded jeans and khaki. Toni could not define the planes of her face; they never came into sharp focus. The lack of clarity in the woman’s features declined to be an issue as the jeans and khaki peeled away to reveal a limber, willing body. Toni groaned and pressed harder against herself, sensations causing her breath to first grow shallow, then stop. The rush of air that came from Toni’s lungs as her body rippled in its pleasure contained a name. Toni curled on her side and sleepily decided to ask Kayisha what it meant when next they spoke.

  Chapter Fourteen

  As pre-agreed when Emma dropped Pete her spare house keys on Monday, she met him for lunch on Wednesday afternoon at a café close to his work. They were tied to Pete’s scheduled one p.m. lunch break so Emma arrived directly from Albany, an unexpected delay caused by road works not leaving enough time to go home before the appointment.

  After demanding an almost word-for-word description of the interview itself, Pete rested his arms on either side of the mug sitting in front of him on the café table and asked, “So what happens now?”

  Emma stirred her hot chocolate with the spoon she would keep in the mug until the drink was gone. She hated how the chocolate settled at the bottom, so she redistributed it in between mouthfuls. “Apparently there are three others who’ve applied and they’re being interviewed over the next week, so I’m not expecting to hear anything until at least next Friday.”

  “Are they locals?”

  “I’m not sure. Frank didn’t offer the information and I didn’t

  think it the right time to ask. Although I’m guessing since the interviews are so spaced out, that at least one had to arrange time off to travel to Albany. And that probably means they’ll get the job.”

  “Why?”

  “You know how it is. They always pick the person who’s working over the person who’s not.”

  “But you are working, Em.”

  “Two days a week.” Emma sighed. “And of course the question came up why I’d left the other practice.”

  “So you said it was because you couldn’t stand working for the Wicked Witch of the West one moment longer?”

  “Something like that.” Emma watched Pete stir his own hot chocolate. “So I’m guessing things aren’t all rosy in the Land of Oz?”

  “Same old, same old.” Pete waved his spoon dismissively in the air before licking it clean and dropping it back into his drink. “I don’t suppose they’re looking for any vet assistants down there, are they?”

  “If I get the job I’ll drop your name so often they’ll wonder why you haven’t been on the payroll long before now.”

  “So if you get offered the job you’re going to take it?”

  Emma shrugged noncommittally. The practice was a large one, dealing not only with domestic and herd animals but specializing in the equine arena and servicing a number of horse studs in the outlying region. Apparently a couple of racehorses worth millions were in their care. The practice facilities were extraordinary, reflecting its high-end clientele. Should she be offered the position, in addition to a company vehicle, she would have at her disposal equipment most vets would walk over hot coals to get their hands on. Salary had not yet been discussed, except to say the successful applicant would receive a package commensurate with their qualifications and experience. The principal vet, Frank, was affable and highly qualified. The other vet she met during her visit was also friendly, as was the assistant on duty at the time of her interview. Albany itself, while officially a city, still managed to retain the aura of a country town. Everyone she met, from the clerk at her motel, to the garage attendant who gave directions to the practice, to the Internet café owner and the waitress who served her evening meal, was unhurried and happy to chat. “If the temperature was anything to go by, it will be absolutely freezing once winter sets in, but apart from that I reckon I could live down there.”

  “So you’re not even going to try and raise the funds to buy into Tricia’s practice?”

  Emma read the accusation in Pete’s tone and immediately wished she hadn’t mentioned Tricia’s offer when she dropped him her spare house key on Monday. “I told you, Pete, the bank would probably laugh me off the premises.”

  “But you don’t know that until you try.”

  Tricia had told Emma she’d have to speak to her accountant and get some accurate figures, but over their post-barbeque coffee on Sunday afternoon she’d given a guesstimate of the half-share value of the practice. It wasn’t an outrageous figure but…Emma just could not see a bank approving her for such an amount, especially since she had no real assets to speak of. They certainly wouldn’t be softened by a “but I promise I’m good for it” approach. “I’m taking an educated guess.”

  “I still think you should at least give it a go.” Pete swallowed the last of his hot chocolate. “Really, Em, the worst they can say is no.”

  “You’re a tyrant, Peter Jamieson.”

  “Maybe so.” Pete pulled out his wallet and tossed enough for the two drinks and their lunch of chicken and avocado focaccias onto the table. “But I’d rather stay in Perth if I can, so I’m just looking after my own interests.”

  Emma really couldn’t tell if Pete was serious or not with all his talk about following Emma to her next place of employment. She’d do her best to get him a new position whichever way the coin landed, but for now he wasn’t going to allow her world to just keep turning. She sighed. “I’ll ring the bank from work tomorrow.”

  An obvious glance was made to the wall clock behind the counter and Pete said firmly, “This afternoon.”

  There was still nearly three bank trading hours left. Emma nodded resignedly. “Okay. This afternoon.”

  “Promise?”

  “I promise.” Emma slid Pete’s money back across the table and dug into her own wallet. She shook her head at his protest. After looking after her babies for two days, the least she could do was spring for lunch.

  Ten minutes later she was home. Kayisha literally launched at Emma before she could get through the front door. Malibu came to see what the commotion was about but stalked away, demonstrating her disgust at the state of affairs over the past two days. In another ten minutes Emma had deposited her luggage on her bed, walked through every room in the house, found all was in order and admitted she had missed her little home, even for the brief period she was away. She stopped in front of her computer, also admitting the familiarity of home wasn’t the only thing she had missed. She vowed, come seven p.m., she would drop her “woman of mystery” routine and, hopefully, Pookie would reciprocate. That decided, Emma thumbed through the phonebook, found the number of her bank’s loan hotline and dialed
.

  Amazingly, she was not kept in a queue for an eon, being transferred to a loan officer almost immediately. Emma explained her requirements, outlined her assets, income and expenses, fidgeted while her situation was assessed, and slumped in her seat when the figure the bank might loan her was announced.

  “This is only an approximation based on what you’ve given us,” the sympathetic voice on the end of the line assured her. “I can set up an appointment with one of our lending managers if you wish.”

  Based on their approximation, Emma knew it was fruitless to arrange an appointment. She needed at least double what she’d just been quoted. She declined the offer, hung up the phone and dialed the number of her old practice.

  Pete answered and Emma wasted no time letting him know what she already predicted. “I told you they’d say no.”

  Pete wasn’t so easily discouraged, “Haven’t you got any rich friends who might like to invest in you?”