Sets Appeal

by Virginia Taylor

  The warehouse door had been left open and he heard her car arrive. Meaning to look busy and not be waiting for her, he strode to the workbench area where Trent was cutting the outline of the bay Vix had designed, leaf by leaf, with the jigsaw. His work was intricate and beautifully finished.

  “It’s a shame there’s not a lot of need for this sort of thing,” Jay said, yet again impressed by Trent’s new work ethic. Trent used to be a bricklayer not known for finishing a whole row before he wanted a break.

  Trent paused and looked at him. “I’m thinking I could make some interesting trellises. Arty. I might be able to find a market if I mocked up a few at home.”

  “I never thought I would hear you use the word arty. And you are a wood artist, no doubt about it. Show this stuff to Kell. He might let you use his lathe if you ever want to do a bit of wood turning.”

  Trent gave him a pleased smile and at that moment the car door outside slammed. Steve and Tent put down their tools. Vix had only been away for three working days and already the guys thought her arriving back was an event, which gave Jay the opportunity to stroll to the door to greet her when her shadow entered before her. “Good Christmas?” he asked, his mouth dry with apprehension.

  “The best. Hi, everyone.” Vix gave him a special smile before she glanced at the others and he breathed out, knowing she hadn’t heard a word about him. “I hope you people haven’t finished the whole thing without me.”

  “Nearly,” Steve said, trying to sound grumpy, but his face was creased with a grin. “Slacker. You’ll have to paint fast to catch up to us.”

  “I brought bribes. Do I need bribes? Should I say presents or bribes?”

  “Bribes.” Jay laughed. He wanted to grab her, swing her around, and kiss her until she begged for mercy.

  “In the back of the car. Could you carry them in for me? I’ve got a few in my bag, but I couldn’t carry the bottles.”

  The word bottles had the guys ready to carry, and between them they brought in five boxes marked Maintree Wines. “Share them with Kellen and Luke. I didn’t know who would like what and so I got a selection.”

  Jay appreciated the looks on the faces of the others as they read the labels, The Village Smithy, Under the Spreading Chestnut, Blowing Bellows, et cetera. He had seen the label before when Lonny had brought a bottle to his house. He hadn’t connected Tremain with Maintree was all.

  “You shouldn’t have spent all that money,” Steve said, his tone amazed. “Not on us.”

  “I didn’t,” she said with a naughty smile. “They’re freebies. I got lots of food, too: pates, nuts, cheeses, pickled fruit, dried fruit, cakes. And loads of fresh fruit: mandarins, lemons, cherries, apricots, plums.”

  “How come?” Clearly Trent didn’t believe that anyone could have hundreds of dollars worth of freebies.

  “I spent half my life in the Barossa and so I know the makers and growers of most of these things. It’s good publicity to offer free samples. I bet you’ve never had this pate before, for instance.”

  “These yobos have never had any pate before.” Jay leaned back, crossed his arms, and laughed.

  “Well, I’ll do a couple of hours of painting and then I’ll prepare us a party.”

  “Speaking of parties…” Steve stood in front of her, his expression hopeful. “You were away when we decided. Sherry is giving a party on New Year’s Eve. She wants you to come, too. Can you?”

  Vix’s querying gaze momentarily shifted to Jay’s. He gave a short nod.

  She wouldn’t meet anyone at Sherry’s house who would talk about Jay’s disassociation with her father, or who would mention Jay’s Master’s degree. The first was old news and the second expected and therefore not noteworthy enough to feature in conversation. He would tell her both himself before the job ended but not before, because he wanted her as long as he could have her. At this stage, every single day counted.

  “Yes, I would love to,” she said with a smile. “I can deliver the wine and snacks to them on Wednesday night, then.”

  “Maybe we could pick you up, too.” Jay kept his tone casual. “I’ll be Steve’s designated driver because I don’t drink.”

  She gave him a pleased smile.

  Two hours later, Steve and Trent decided they liked the cheeses and the fruit, but Sherry would probably been keener on the pate and the little pastry snacks. Jay decided he was in love. The days without Vix had been filled with waiting and the nights had been lonely.

  By pre-arrangement, she arrived at his house that night bearing yet more food. “It’s my granny,” she said, apologetically. “She thinks I might starve in the big city without Christmas leftovers and so you have to help me eat ham and turkey.”

  “When I get time.” He picked her up, thoroughly kissed her, and took her to bed.

  “Did you like my Christmas presents?” she asked some time later as she arranged the cold sliced meats on the plate.

  She had bought him cushions in patterns of green and white, and a print of Monet’s dark purple irises in a narrow dark blue frame.

  “Yes, as long as the cushions are for you.”

  She sighed. “I know guys don’t like cushions but these look so good in this room. I don’t mind if they’re for me. I loved your gift, which had better have been made specifically for me.”

  He had given her a big pink T-shirt to sleep in with I distract Jay printed on the front. “No one else. So, you had a nice time at home with your family?”

  “The best. I hope you don’t mind, but I told my father about you.”

  He froze. “What did you tell him?”

  “That I’m helping you to redecorate your house and that two of his surplus red-gum shelves would look fantastic in your study. Plus, that you need them because the room is full of papers and books.”

  “And he said…?”

  “He said sure. I told him about you all, and he thinks his precious baby daughter is in safe hands.”

  “Mine, specifically?” He couldn’t breathe, his mind veering between hoping she hadn’t mentioned his name, and hoping that if she did that James had kept Tim’s funny business to himself.

  “No, not yours. All of the construction team. I didn’t single you out because…” She pressed her lips together and made a wide-eyed overdone scandalized face. “Daughters don’t tell their fathers who they’re sleeping with. I didn’t want you to stand out because I didn’t want him to think…anything. I’m such a prude and I have to work on that.”

  “Yup,” he said, relaxing. “I’ll help you. I know just the thing.”

  Chapter 13

  Vix could hear the party from two streets away. Knowing she wouldn’t drink enough to fail a Breathalyzer, she had decided to drive herself to Lex and Sherry’s house on New Year’s Eve. By prior arrangement, Jay would leave his motorbike at Steve’s house, travel to the party with the guys, drive each home, and then ride off her house for the rest of the night so that they could spend the following public holiday together.

  She circled the block a few times but finally had to park a couple of streets away, not too convenient when she had bags of food and a dozen wine bottles to deliver. For the first time in her life she blessed daylight saving. With heels far too high and a load far too heavy, she could see her way back to the right address. The heat of the day hadn’t yet waned, and she knew her face would be red from the effort. She teetered through the rusty iron front gate. From there she took an unevenly paved path to the front door, which stood wide-open, blasting heavy rock music out into the open air.

  Steve, dressed impeccably in clean jeans and crisp long-sleeved shirt, let her into the house. He bravely kissed her hot cheek, holding a beer bottle in his hand. Fortunately Jay, standing in the hall with at least five raucous friends, spotted her. He took her load and led the way to the kitchen.

  “Hi, Sherry,” she yelled as she entered the tiny old-fashioned room and Sherry looked up from her cut bread and fillings piled
on central table.

  “Jay, turn the music down!” Sherry smiled at Vix as Jay left.

  Vix scooped a handful of cold tap water onto her face, blotting with a wad of kitchen paper. Her makeup didn’t matter because the heat meant she wore nothing but mascara and lipstick. She unpacked her bags. The throb of the music faded slightly and now with less competition she said at a normal level, “I thought I would be one of the first here. Most New Year’s Eve parties don’t get this noisy until at least ten.”

  “Some of this crowd intends to party-hop and we happen to be the lucky first. Thanks for all the food. You’ve brought tons. Oh, and a cheese platter. That’s a good idea. I’ve got sausage rolls sitting in the oven, but I don’t think I’ll heat them until much later, maybe after midnight. They’re a bit unnecessary while it’s so hot. It’s so good to see you again. Did you see the boys’ bedroom?”

  Vix shook her head. “Not yet. I bought them Lego as a New Year’s present.”

  “They love Lego. That’s so sweet of you,” Sherry said, her face plastered with a delighted smile. She wiped her hands on a tea towel. “Come and see the room and meet the boys before they go to sleep.”

  The room, a large but old addition to the back of the late ’50s house, looked fresh and clean in Vix’s citrus green. The older boys had a bunk arrangement and Oscar a side-less cot, each bed with a blue coverlet. Short blue curtains hung either side of the small window. Sherry had used industrial carpet tiles on the floor.

  The older two looked up from the noisy game of trains they were currently pretending to play, using tracks inventively made out of quarter rounds nailed to either side of a strip of ply, Luke’s handiwork no doubt. Various toys lay scattered around, waiting to trip up an unsuspecting visitor.

  “Can we come out soon?” Max the biggest, another redhead, sounded disgruntled.

  “When Uncle Kellen gets here, you can, but then, bed. Vix bought you a present.”

  Vix handed over the three parcels, assuming Oscar’s would be snatched out of his puzzled grip as soon as she left. He gave her a wet kiss on order and the older two shook her hand, which she thought was cute.

  By the time she got back to the kitchen, Sherry’s sandwiches had disappeared, some of the hallway guests had left, and Jay was passing around cold bottles of beer.

  “I have a carton of wine in my car and a lot more food,” she said to him, taking her first real look at her beautiful, hunky man. As usual, he wore jeans, this time with a blue striped shirt. He had rolled up his sleeves, also as usual. The sight of his lean, hard, muscled forearms never failed to turn on her woman-meter. “Would you help me get it?” She wanted to hug him and kiss him, and stay in his arms for hours, but she couldn’t in front of Sherry or anyone else for that matter.

  “Where did you park your car?”

  “A block over that way.” She indicated the direction.

  “C’mon.” He scooped his arm around her and ushered her out of the front door. “That’s going to be one big noisy party. How much wine did you say you brought?”

  “Only a couple for the party and Luke’s share of the Christmas hamper.”

  “He’ll be pleased, but don’t contribute any more alcohol to the party. The food you brought is more than enough.” He stopped at the end of the street and kissed her. “You smell.”

  “Thanks.”

  “…delicious.” He kissed her again, longer this time. His eyes shone darkly mysterious in the setting sun. “I love you.”

  “What?”

  “You know I do. You couldn’t fail to know. Now, where’s this car of yours?”

  Her face numb with shock, her chest thudding with joy and smidge of fear, she put her arms around him, kissed him shakily; then she guided him just a little farther to her car, knowing she ought to say she loved him, too. She couldn’t, but she loved him so much that she ached. No woman could fail to love a man who treated her with such tenderness. Jay didn’t see her as his possession or his efficient hostess. He saw her as a woman to cherish and protect. However, she needed a little more time and courage before she could say the special love-word to a man again.

  “What are you doing next year?” She wished she hadn’t asked and she knew that she probably hadn’t asked before now because she was afraid of the answer.

  “After tomorrow? First, I will finish the set.” He rubbed the back of his neck, drawing a long breath before he spoke. “I’m waiting for news that I ought to get next week. I can decide then.” Losing her gaze, he mangled the bottle carton open and loaded the rest of the food on top of the bottles. “What are you going to do?”

  She shut the car door. “I don’t know until the reviews come in for the show. If the set gets a review, I’m doing well. If it gets a good review, I’ll be offered another job. I want a design job rather than a painting job, but I suppose I have to move up the ladder like everyone else.”

  “And I do, too. I need work experience, and I probably can’t get any in South Australia.” He held her gaze too long.

  She frowned. “How could you possibly need work experience? You’ve worked for years and years.”

  “Not in the area I plan to specialize in.”

  “And what’s that?” She squinted at him, momentarily blinded by the stark yellow gleam of the setting sun.

  “The same as you. Design. Perhaps a bit of office work if I can get it. I want to branch out, again like you.”

  “Drafting?”

  He nodded and hefted the carton up onto his shoulder.

  The hovering sun cast a designer glow on the rooftop. She walked beside him, clinging to his other hand, plotting how to ask her father to find work for Jay in the area he wanted. Her father employed draftsmen. Without asking, she knew a self-sufficient man like Jay would hate being handed a job on a silver platter. Everything he had done, he had done for himself. He knew what he could do and he did it, unlike her. She kept trying until she succeeded.

  But…she could keep Jay if she could get him what he wanted in South Australia. She could buy him, just as she had bought Tim. Her eyes filled with hot tears, which she blinked back. She didn’t want her career bought for her any more than Jay would.

  She had three guaranteed weeks with him, only. After that, he might have to move on to find the job he wanted. She knew without a doubt that he would never settle for less, but he was fantastic and any prospective employer would see that right away. All was not lost. The future would be left to the future and she would be with him until then.

  She stared straight ahead to the house where people were celebrating the end of one year and the beginning of the next. The numbers had swollen in the time they’d been gone. Kellen came out with his two new dates, one on either side, and he took the carton from Jay. Vix followed to the kitchen and removed the food and started putting together plates of sushi, plates of nuts and fruits, cheeses. She was kissed by everyone and she laughed a lot. She had a glass of champagne. She talked to a good-looking young musician who wanted to take her to another party and she had another glass of champagne.

  Her feet ached. Her heels were too high. One of Kellen’s dates had latched onto Jay. Her body language said everything Vix didn’t want to know. Jay fortunately said, “Nice doggie. Sit.”

  Vix wandered back to the kitchen, where she had spent most parties during her marriage. Her haven. She started to clear up. “Hello. We’ve met before,” she heard a cool voice say. “You’re JD’s painter.”

  She turned. “Yes. We have met.” She smiled at Lonny. “You’re the friend who was going to help him paint his house.”

  Lonny looked stunning. Her long blond hair had been tastefully spliced with black, complementing her re-growth and making her winged dark eyebrows look exotic. She wore heavy purple eye shadow that cooled her brown eyes, and a loose top patterned in purple and gray. Her black pants clung to her long beautiful legs. Her heels were ankle-breaking height. “I hear you’re doing a wonderful painting job y
ourself on his set. I’ve been invited to the last dress rehearsal, and so I’ll be able to see for myself.”

  “Lovely,” Vix said, trying to look thrilled that Jay had asked her. “Have you seen all the other shows Jay has worked on?”

  “Most. I did the makeup for Seussical the Musical. That was Jay’s first set job.”

  Sherry wandered into the room with an empty cheese platter. “The first set for all of them brought to them by—” She presented the platter theatrically. “Ta da! Ilona Liddell, stylist to the stars!”

  Lonny—Ilona—clutched the platter like an award and smiled. Lonny looked like Tim’s Ilona because she was Tim’s Ilona. Vix had a sudden urge to laugh, which she suppressed. She knew she would sound hysterical. Her head whirled as she tried to put together Jay’s few comments about Lonny.

  “Best show I’ve ever seen,” Lonny said, a pleased expression on her face. Sherry’s comment had relaxed her. “Actually, it was the first musical I’ve ever seen.” She put the platter on the table and began peeling prawns, which she dropped in a muddled heap in the center. Her long silver earrings, familiar earrings, one of which she had lost in Jay’s two-seater, swung as she moved.

  Vix had a vague moment of wondering if Lonny knew Vix had been Victoria Nolan. Tim had never called her Vix, and she hadn’t called herself by her family nickname in all the time she had been married. And she didn’t look the same. Her hair was now medium length, blond, and curly. During her marriage, she’d had long, straight, mousy-colored hair. She’d been makeup free—fresh-faced—as Tim had liked her to be, wearing tasteful colors like beige and beige.

  Once, she’d been Ilona’s antithesis and not long ago she’d been Ilona’s clone, but now she was Vix. She doubted Ilona knew who Vix was, unlike Vix who for the first time in years knew exactly who she was, and who she wanted to be. Herself. And so for Lonny and everyone else in the world, she was nerdy, over-enthusiastic Vix, or Jay’s painter, because Vix knew that unlike Tim, Jay wasn’t with her because of her father’s money. He didn’t know she was her father’s daughter.