Paradise Road

by C. J. Duggan

  My mind kept flashing back to the scorching press of Dean’s mouth against mine and I sunk down deeper into despair. If it wasn’t for the unlikely duo of Laura and Amanda keeping me company, I think I may have wallowed in a bit of self-pity. Funnily enough, I think they equated my weirdness solely to my problems with Ballantine. Ha, if only they knew.

  There were lots of things that I couldn’t stop thinking about, but one of the more positive things was a particular craving for a white buttermilk cupcake, and what better way to feed your emotions, as I finally stumbled across the mint green shop front, with Paradise Cakes hanging from a sign. I walked up to the window, my mouth instantly salivating at the decadent display of sugary perfection. This was the best kind of comfort food and would surely give me a much-needed lift. Maybe I could buy a cake to share with the staff after hours, a nice coconut-cream layered cake. Would the staff think I was a suck? That’s what someone would do in Red Hill.

  I pressed against the glass door. The bell above chimed my arrival and a lady with a head scarf and a kind smile looked up from straightening one of the dinky little coloured cards. Each marked out exactly what the item was. My eyes skimmed through all the delicious options. Blueberry coffee cake with vanilla glaze, chocolate fudge brownies with butterscotch chips and pecans, peaches and cream pie with sugar cookie crust, Hummingbird cake, lemon layered cake: I wanted them all.

  ‘Decisions, decisions,’ joked the lady.

  ‘Far too many,’ I replied with a grin.

  ‘Are you after anything in particular?’

  I sighed. ‘I really can’t decide.’

  ‘Do you prefer something sweet or savoury, something a bit glitzy or something with a bit of substance? The strawberry double-crust pie is a crowd pleaser, but the Hummingbird cake is a classic. We do that in cake and cupcake sizes.’

  I smiled to myself. Who knew you could draw a parallel between life and baked goods? I was all ready to go with a New York cheesecake when the back door swung open from behind the counter.

  ‘Mum, Mary said she wants twelve more of the poppy seed cupcakes.’

  My eyes snapped up to hear the familiar voice. ‘Sherry?’

  Sherry placed down her bag and her tray. ‘Oh, hey, I’m gathering the cupcake was a hit then?’

  I blinked.

  ‘Dean’s cupcake, said something about a belated birthday or something. Mum, this is Lexie, she works at the Wipe Out Bar.’

  ‘Lovely to meet you,’ said Sherry’s mum warmly. ‘Any friend of Dean’s is a friend of ours.’

  Sherry rolled her eyes. ‘Mum.’

  ‘Shush, it’s true, and I am honoured that you’re coming back for seconds.’

  ‘It was absolutely delicious. This is your business?’

  Sherry’s mum straightened with pride. ‘It is: Sherry, her sister Alyssa and I do all the baking. It’s a real family affair.’

  For once Sherry wasn’t dressed in her usual black. Instead, she had a frosted pink polo and light denim jeans on, her hair was pulled back in a messy bun, and she even smiled when she listened to her mum. She was unrecognisable as the intimidating Sherry of last year. I recalled Cassie telling me Sherry had left the Wipe Out Bar because her mum got sick and it all made sense now seeing them together.

  ‘Well, you’re lucky to have a daughter like Sherry. I’ve seen her work, she’s an absolute gun behind the bar.’

  Sherry frowned at me. Obviously receiving compliments wasn’t exactly her thing. I cleared my throat. ‘I can’t decide; could you please put a sampler box together for me, whatever you think is best.’

  ‘One sampler box coming up!’

  It took everything in my willpower not to crack open the box and devour one of the sweet, not-so-little morsels inside. Instead, I remained steadfast and focused, crossing the main road across from the boardwalk and heading towards the Wipe Out Bar. It was part of my afternoon ritual to disappear after school, to just get away from the stifling atmosphere of the Wipe Out Bar. This had been my first venture to Paradise Cakes, and if it was going to be a common destination, I was desperately going to need to do a lot more walking.

  Maybe it was the unmistakeable frosted pink box I was carrying, but Cassie seemed uncharacteristically happy to see me.

  ‘You are not going to believe this,’ she said, her arms folded, shaking her head in disbelief.

  ‘Oh?’ I sat the box on top of the counter, waiting for her to elaborate. ‘Go check the roster,’ she said, her attention flicking to the box. ‘Are those for me?’

  ‘One is, just one.’ I held up my finger to accentuate the point as I walked around the bar to check the roster. Every week, Dean re-did the staff roster, working in any changes, or if people were on leave or if staff were needed for special events. It never changed too much, but as my eyes roamed over the colour-coded chart I took in the fact there was a change: a big change. My name was scheduled on for a Friday night shift, as in tomorrow.

  ‘What?’ I mouthed, a line creasing my brow as I looked on in confusion.

  Cassie leant next to the wall where the clipboard was mounted. ‘Talk, abowt a cart with nurhn lives,’ she managed past a mouthful of cake. If that was the case then surely I was on my last.

  My heart beat faster; maybe Dean was coming around? Surely he couldn’t stay mad forever, right? It was a glimmer of hope, but I wasn’t going to get too distracted, I had a maths quiz to study for, and with the aid of a sugar rush and the reality of working tomorrow night, I felt the spring in my step already.

  I grabbed the cake box, essentially rescuing it from Cassie as I headed for the stairs. ‘Thanks for the cake,’ she said, licking the frosting from her fingers. ‘Feel free to donate anytime,’ she called out.

  I laughed, taking the stairs two at a time. Coming up to the landing, walking past Dean’s open office door, I crept closer, noticing he wasn’t there before I walked in the opposite direction down the hall, making it halfway before I stilled. I flipped the lid of my cake box, smiling at the contents, when I had an idea. I doubled back down the hall, tentatively walked into his office, selected the Hummingbird cupcake and placed it on his desk. Something with substance, I thought, thinking if the shift was him offering an olive branch of sorts, well, here was mine.

  Chapter Forty-Two

  With so many bridges to rebuild I was determined I was going to smash my shift. It was of the utmost importance that when Dean watched on from his little black-and-white monitor from mission control, I looked like a natural. Fast, efficient and without a thirsty patron in sight, that was my aim. I played down my slutty pub attire of the previous weekend. Really, who did I have to impress? I just needed to focus. Mercifully even Dean was nowhere in sight. I had to try not to think about him watching, I couldn’t afford to be distracted.

  Cassie and I were the dream team, both working in unison to keep up, but also finding enough time for a joke and a laugh. After the onslaught of the dinner rush with family jugs of soft drinks for tables to the late-night rush of people on the last leg of their bar crawl, time simply flew by. I was taking a moment of down time to slice up some lemons when I heard an obnoxious banging on the bar top.

  ‘Oi, barkeep, make it snappy, would ya?’

  I turned slowly, the hairs on the back of my neck rising until my eyes locked onto Amanda, laughing at herself.

  ‘Hey, what are you doing here? Weren’t you traumatised enough last weekend?’ I grimaced.

  ‘Ha! Where else am I bound to find such drama in town?’

  ‘Well, you’re just going to have to find it elsewhere. Tonight I am a saint.’

  ‘Booriiing.’

  ‘Boring is severely underrated.’

  ‘I don’t know about that. A week staying at Boon’s and I could do with some excitement.’

  I cringed, thinking about how awkward it would have been for Amanda to have had to collect her stuff from Lucy’s.

  ‘I’m so sorry.’

  ‘Ha! Don’t be. Do you want to hear something hila
rious?’

  ‘Yeah, okay, tell me while I make you a drink,’ I said, glancing up at the camera above the bar. ‘What do you want?’

  ‘Hmm, I’m feeling a bit dangerous tonight. How about a Fruit Tingle?’

  ‘Wow, you rebel!’

  Grabbing a highball glass with ice, adding two nips of vodka, Blue Curacao and lemonade, giving it a brisk stir before topping it with a dash of raspberry cordial, transforming it into the most divine bluish-purple cocktail, I placed it in front of Amanda.

  ‘So what’s so hilarious?’ I asked, taking her money as I moved to the till. Not much amused me these days so it would have to be good.

  ‘Are you ready for this? Mum and Dad are coming home.’

  ‘What? Why?’

  ‘I was all set to head up there, but apparently the house is a disaster, the family in our house won’t stop whingeing to them, so they’re forfeiting the contract and heading back next week.’

  ‘Next week?’

  ‘Yep! Which means you can come home, you don’t have to stay in this dive anymore, you don’t even have to work here if you don’t want to. Because you won’t have to pay board. Isn’t that great?’

  Go back to the ’burbs? Leave here? I didn’t know how I felt about that, but I knew Mum and Dad would be relieved.

  ‘And I promise you …’ continued Amanda.

  ‘That you’re not going to be a bitch to me anymore?’

  ‘Oh God, no, I can’t promise that, that’s just crazy. What I was going to say was I promise you, no more Lucy Fell coming over.’

  ‘Thank God!’

  ‘Hey, thanks for the Fruit Tingle, bar wench, I’ll catch you round.’ Amanda saluted me with her drink. ‘Oh, we’re heading down to the boardwalk later if you want to come?’

  ‘Okay, cool, do you have my mobile number?’

  Amanda scoffed. ‘I keep forgetting you have a mobile number, it kind of freaks me out.’

  ‘Why, ’cause I’m not “cool” enough?’

  ‘Cool? You’re the one slinging drinks behind a bar, living in your own place. Do you have my number?’

  ‘I do.’

  ‘Okay. Text me and we’ll meet up later?’

  ‘It’s a deal.’

  Amanda broke away from the bar with a smile. ‘Laters, taters.’

  Did Amanda and I actually just plan to hang out? Did she actually accuse me of being … cool? Surely not.

  But as the clock ticked on to the end of my shift I actually regained some kind of nervous excitement about doing something normal like hanging out with friends and, above all, keeping myself out of trouble.

  •

  As we shut the doors to the Wipe Out Bar, I was relieved that I hadn’t got into any brawls, and stayed way clear of the back alleyway. As far as shifts went, I’d have gone so far as to call this one a successful one.

  I printed out the bar takings receipt and gathered up the till insert. ‘Cass, you ready with that?’

  ‘Almost,’ she said, pulling at the long paper trail of receipts from the till at the other end of the bar. ‘I’ll bring it up in a tick.’

  ‘Cool. Hey, I’m heading down to the boardwalk. You wanna come?’

  Cassie looked up with a smile. ‘Yeah, why not?’

  I nodded, spinning around and climbing the steps to deliver Dean a portion of the night’s takings so he could count it out and put it in the safe. With every step my anxiety grew. I hadn’t seen him all night but was well aware that he was up here, sitting, watching like he did most busy nights. I knew this had been a major test for me, my second chance not to screw up. Cassie and I had done a great job tonight, we’d even shut up shop and did the clean-up in record time. We were undeniably a great team. Dean was in his usual position, looking moody and in deep thought behind his desk.

  ‘Well, I’d say that was a resounding success – nobody died,’ I offered, plonking the till on his desk.

  ‘Hmmph,’ he managed as he stared at his computer screen.

  I waited, thinking he might mention something about the cupcake I left him, but he just ignored me.

  Okaaaay …

  ‘Well, here’s the last of it!’ Cassie entered the office, mercifully breaking the awkward silence.

  ‘Hey, Dean, we’re heading down to the boardwalk. You wanna come?’

  My head spun around to Cassie, trying to give her my best telepathic message for: Shut the hell up!

  This had his attention. He broke away from his screen and leaned back in his chair, a glint of amusement in his eyes. ‘Ahhh, the kiddies are going to play in the park; I think I’ll pass,’ he said.

  ‘Well, it’s up to you,’ shrugged Cassie. ‘I’ll meet you downstairs, Lexie.’ Cassie looked at me with raised brows before leaving me alone with the big bad wolf.

  ‘So, how did I do?’ I asked, regretting it the moment the words came out of my mouth. I should have known better than to ask him while he was in one of his black moods.

  Dean pinched the bridge of his nose as if warding off a migraine. He sat forward in his chair, flicking through the paperwork on his desk, before eventually locating a notebook.

  He idly flicked through the notebook, bored with every flick. ‘Right, here. You need to be faster; memory retention is good but your service is a bit sloppy and you lack focus; there were two occasions when you needed to sweep the floor for a glass run; based on the tip jar people were either tight tonight or they just weren’t fussed on the service. I’ll have a better idea when I check the till balance and providing there’s no active complaints from anyone … there’s more. Do you want me to go on, because I can write it up for you?’

  I stood at his desk, my hands balled into fists as I could feel the steam coming out my ears. I leant forward, placing my palms on his desktop. ‘I nailed it tonight.’

  His eyes shifted from my hands to my face. ‘Is that right?’

  ‘Nailed. It.’

  Dean also leant forward, placing his elbows on his desk. ‘And I say you need work.’

  ‘Why are you being like this?’

  Dean sighed, pushing himself back in his chair. ‘Look, if you can’t take constructive criticism then maybe this isn’t the job for you.’

  ‘Are you firing me?’ I asked, in disbelief.

  Dean looked at me. Gone was the open, unguarded person from the boardwalk, the smirky, teasing smart-arse I had become accustomed to or the Dean who had pressed me up against my door and shown me a side of myself I never knew existed. Maybe I had pushed too far, asked too many questions.

  ‘I’m not doing this now,’ he said, standing from his desk and making his way out the door. ‘Go play with your friends, and we’ll talk about it later.’

  My mouth gaped, watching him leave the room. ‘Don’t you dare walk away from me,’ I said, storming after him and for once grabbing his arm and pulling him up short, getting into his face. ‘Who the hell do you think you are, talking to me like that?’

  ‘Oh, I don’t know. Your boss?’

  ‘Look, rake me over the coals if you want, I can take it, but I know I did good tonight, you can’t say I didn’t.’

  ‘Okay, you can take it, can you? Tell me, how’d you go last Saturday night when you worked behind the bar, after I specifically told you not to? And how did you go when you abandoned your post with Cassie to go and make a scene in the pool room, which led to you attacking a patron? Did you know I had the police here and I had to provide a false statement to prevent me from losing my licence? And don’t even get me started on how you let Cassie handle the aftermath of your shit storm while you went and fucked around with Ballantine. Yeah, you think I don’t know about that?’ Dean stepped right into my face. ‘You think you nailed it? The only thing you drove a nail into was the coffin for your job.’

  I swallowed, chanting over in my mind.

  You can take it, you can take it, you can take it.

  I remained calm, so eerily calm I even scared myself. ‘Are you sure you don’t want to come down to the bo
ardwalk?’

  Dean looked at me like I was crazy, like he wanted to throttle me.

  When he didn’t reply, I continued. ‘I just wanted to catch up with everyone before I moved out. You’re right, this isn’t the job for me and my aunty and uncle are coming back early so I won’t be needing the room or the job any longer.’

  Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry.

  ‘I will put everything as it was before I leave.’ I took off my bar apron, folded it up and held it out to him. Dean took it. His hand brushed against mine and I tried not to think about how that made me feel, because at this moment I couldn’t allow myself to feel anything.

  ‘Lexie.’

  My eyes lifted to meet his. He no longer seemed angry, he seemed defeated.

  ‘You need to be with someone like Ballantine, he will be good for you … right for you.’

  I could feel tears brimming in my eyes. I was so angry, so frustrated. Was that what this was about? Pushing me away so I could run off with Ballantine and live happily ever after?

  ‘Don’t tell me what I need,’ I snapped.

  I turned away and walked down the hall.

  Chapter Forty-Three

  ‘You’re not coming?’ said Cassie, watching me descend the stairs.

  ‘Listen, I’m just going to have an early night,’ I said. ‘But you go.’

  ‘Yeah, I might go check out the action, be a tourist,’ she said, her head tilting to the side studying me. ‘Don’t take any shit from him, Lex, push back.’

  ‘Ha! Push back anymore and he’d be sailing over the balcony.’ I had to admit the thought did tempt me.