A Mistletoe Moment

by Natasha West

  ‘Look, Mikey, I actually came for the tip money. You know, from my last night?’

  ‘Shit, yeah! I’ve got it saved for you. I meant to give it to you last time you were here, but that whole phone thing threw me for a loop… What a knobhead, eh?! That reminds me, did you manage to track it down? The phone?’

  Tilda hadn’t thought much about Sam and the phone over the last twenty-four hours. All the stuff with her Dad and buying a ticket to Oz, Sam had been notched back on Tilda’s priority list. Not finding Sam was now just another regret on a growing list.

  ‘Nope. Didn’t work out, I’m afraid.’

  ‘Sorry.’

  ‘Doesn’t matter now.’

  ‘Well, the least I can do is get you that money. Now, where did I leave it?’

  Mikey leant under the bar and started to look about, knocking a box of straws onto the floor. ‘Bugger!’ It was nice to see that Mikey wasn’t completely different.

  ‘Look, I gotta wee. So I’ll leave you to look for it’ Tilda said.

  ‘Cool’ Mikey replied from the floor as he picked up the spilled straws.

  Tilda walked down the corridor at the side of the bar, headed for the ladies. She remembered the last time she’d been here. She stopped and looked up. There it was. The mistletoe that had caused all the trouble. Tilda felt like she wanted to rip it down and stamp on it. And why not?

  She began to reach for it but the ceiling was too high and she had to rise to her tip toes just to brush the berries with her fingertips. She decided to try a jump, hopefully grabbing it in mid-air and wrenching the blasted thing down. The first jump, she missed it by inches. The second time, she got ahold of it but it was more firmly attached than she would have thought.

  But third time lucky. She leapt up and yanked the little sucker, wrenching it down, berries and all. She looked at it, angrily. It was a bit damaged now but it was still recognisably mistletoe.

  She was about to drop it to the floor, ready to trample it into oblivion, when she heard a voice drift down the corridor. It was a woman’s voice, soft. Tilda froze in action to listen. It couldn’t be, could it?

  ‘I thought I should bring this back because I never found Tilda. So if you see her-’

  Mikey’s voice broke in, excitably. ‘She’s here right now! She just went to the toilet!’

  Tilda recognised the voice. She knew who it was. But she didn’t want to believe it. Was it possible to run all over the city looking for someone, only to find them exactly where you left them? Surely not.

  But then a head popped around the doorway of the corridor. And it was really her. Sam.

  Sam, who’d decided to drop by on her way to Imogen’s to give Mikey the phone back in case Tilda ever returned, was equally stunned as she stared down the corridor. Tilda really was here, looking right back at her with an open mouth. She also appeared to be holding a dead shrub of some kind.

  Just when Sam had given up on seeing Tilda again, she’d been dropped right into her lap.

  ‘Hi’ Tilda said. She was still in shock.

  ‘Hi’ Sam said. She walked down the corridor, holding out Tilda’s mobile phone. ‘I think this belongs to you?’

  Tilda took the phone. ‘I… Thanks.’

  They looked at each other for a moment and there was a silence. Neither really knew what to say to the other.

  Tilda realised she was still holding the mistletoe and shoved it quickly in her pocket. She hoped Sam didn’t notice. How could she explain why she’d had a temper tantrum all over a sprig of mistletoe? But perhaps Sam wouldn’t really care. She couldn’t know the lengths Tilda had gone to track her down. And thank god for that, because Sam would no doubt think her totally weird if she did.

  Eventually the silence got to Sam. She’d found Tilda, but what was supposed to happen now? What the hell was she expecting, that she’d fall into her arms? She should just go, leave Tilda to whatever she was doing.

  ‘Well, ah, Merry Christmas I suppose’ Sam said.

  Tilda still said nothing. She couldn’t understand it. She was never stuck for something to say, ever. But here she was, a mute goon.

  Sam turned sadly and took a few steps back down the corridor, preparing to leave.

  ‘Merry Christmas, Button Nose’ Tilda finally called after her.

  Sam turned around in the doorway, smiling. ‘You called me that before. Why?’

  Tilda shrugged. ‘I like your nose.’

  ‘You like my nose?’

  ‘Yeah. As noses go, it’s hot.’

  Sam laughed. ‘You think I’ve got a hot nose?’

  ‘I think you’ve got a hot everything, if I’m being honest’ Tilda said, glad to find her tongue again.

  Sam began to blush. ‘Thanks. You too’ she eventually replied, trying not to look away in her embarrassment.

  Tilda felt a rush of pleasure but she couldn’t really think of a sensible reply so she changed tack. ‘Hey, whatever happened with the job interview?’

  Sam was glad to be on steadier ground. ‘Didn’t get it. Actually, I quit my current job too.’

  ‘Wow. That’s a bad interview.’

  Sam laughed. ‘Yeah. But I’m pretty happy with how it turned out.’

  ‘So we’re both unemployed?’

  ‘Seems so.’

  Another break in the flow. But Tilda wasn’t going to let this situation get away from her again. More to the point, she wasn’t going to let Sam get away again. She had no idea whether anything could come of this but the counter was winding down on her chance to find out.

  ‘What are you doing for lunch?’ Tilda asked.

  ‘Going to a friend’s family.’

  Tilda took a deep breath. ‘OK, this is completely crazy and I know the odds are not on my side here but is there any chance your friend would be cool with you coming to lunch with me and my Dad? He’s a great cook, I swear.’

  Sam raised an eyebrow as she tried to figure out what her answer was. But there was only one way she could reply to that offer, wasn’t there?

  ‘Let me give her a call. I’ve got a feeling she’ll be alright with it.’

  Tilda tried not to show her excitement. Button Nose was coming to dinner. And if that could happen, maybe other things could be worked out too. If the universe could be this generous to her, maybe Tilda could pay that kindness forward.

  Sixteen

  Sam was in Tilda’s living room, sitting in an armchair, wondering how the hell she’d gotten there. Tilda had left her there while she went to inform her father that there would be an extra guest for lunch.

  Sam was quite nervous and she had numerous reasons to be. She’d found Tilda, the woman who’d given her the most exciting kiss of her life. And now she was going to find out if there was anything beyond a hot lip-lock. And she would be doing that in front of Tilda’s Dad. At Christmas lunch. Which he hadn’t invited her to.

  Imogen had been no obstacle, at least. Once Sam explained what had happened, Imogen had dropped the phone in shock. Sam heard it hit the floor. Once she’d picked it back up, she told Sam that she couldn’t be more pleased she wasn’t coming to lunch if that was the reason.

  So here she was. It felt a little like waiting for her job interview. The difference was, this actually mattered.

  Tilda leaned around the kitchen door to find her Dad peeking into the oven, checking the roast.

  ‘Dad?’

  Chris looked up. It was the first word they’d exchanged since the row. He’d ploughed on with the dinner irregardless, hoping in some nebulous way that food would fix everything.

  ‘Tilda! I… I hope you’re hungry’ Chris said nervously.

  ‘Starving. And I’ve got something I need to say to you. Two things, actually. One, I behaved like a dickhead yesterday. You’re right. I should have been more sensitive. And I don’t think you’re boring, either. Would a boring Dad help his daughter try to find a girl she wants to ask out? I don’t think he would.’

  Chris slammed the oven door shut and wen
t to his daughter, grabbing her in a bear hug. Tilda could barely breathe but it felt good anyway. ‘I’m sorry too. I didn’t mean what I said about you being like Gillian. Really, I didn’t. I was just hurt’ he said into her hair and kissed her on the forehead as they broke the hug.

  Tilda felt the belt of pain that had been around her heart since yesterday begin to loosen. Her Dad didn’t necessarily understand her or how she lived her life. And vice versa. But they would be alright. Because they were still trying. Trying to understand each other, trying to reach each other. And that was something.

  ‘So we’re cool?’ Tilda said.

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘That’s good. Because the second thing I need to tell you is that I brought a guest to dinner.’

  ‘What? Who?’

  Tilda grinned. ‘You’re never gonna believe it…’

  Sam was startled by the living room door flying open and a big, bearded man with gentle eyes dashing into the room, excited. He stopped in front of her, taking her in.

  ‘You’re Sam?’

  Sam nodded.

  ‘Well, I never thought we’d meet. I tell you, we had a hell of a time trying to track you down so Tilda could ask you out-’

  ‘DAD!’ Tilda cried out, horrified. But Chris didn’t hear her. He was too excited.

  ‘Tilda found out you had the phone and she was trying to call you. But it turned out we didn’t have the number for the phone, so we went to the shop where she bought it and they sent us to the previous owner. She still had the account for it, I didn’t really understand that bit, something about a cloud, but she knew how to find the phone…’

  Tilda watched the growing amazement on Sam’s face with pure horror. But then Sam stood up, turning to Tilda happily. ‘You were looking for me? I was looking for you! I found you on Facebook, well, my friend did. And then we saw you liked to go to that place, Up the Wall, and there was a guy there who knew your Mum’s address. I…’

  Sam broke off. Tilda hadn’t spoken yet. And then she began to laugh. ‘Oh my god, I thought you’d think I was some creepy stalker.’

  ‘No, I was the creepy stalker’ Sam replied, giggling along.

  Chris watched them laughing together and he knew it was time to extract himself. ‘I’ve got to finish dinner. I’ll be serving up in about five minutes. You two relax until then.’ He dashed out, leaving Tilda and Sam to it.

  ‘I guess the truth’s out now’ Tilda said. ‘I realise we don’t really know each other…’

  ‘No, we don’t. But I just kind of had a feeling…’ Sam said, rubbing her temple nervously.

  ‘Yeah. A feeling. But there’s no pressure or expectation’ Tilda replied, not sure where to look.

  A silence passed and then Sam gathered herself and looked Tilda squarely in the eye. She wanted to be direct. There was no reason not to be. They’d both been looking for each other and now everyone was found. What else was there to do but be honest?

  ‘Right. So this is our first date, then?’

  ‘Yes’ Tilda said, meeting Sam’s eye. ‘With my Dad.’

  They both began to laugh again.

  Later, Tilda, Sam and Chris were eating dinner and Sam had to admit, Tilda wasn’t kidding. Chris was a good cook. Fortunately, he tended to overestimate how much food people could eat, so there was plenty to stretch three ways.

  They all talked about the silly things they’d done to find each other. And then Sam talked about her decision to leave Pound Saver and not being sure what came next. Tilda talked about the fact she’d never been sure what came next. And that maybe it was time to find out.

  ‘What?’ Chris exclaimed. ‘Is this you settling down?’

  Tilda rolled her eyes at her father. ‘Not settling down as such. Just figuring out if there’s something better than shitty jobs out there for me. I think it might be nice to be good at something, that’s all. Do it all the way, not just half arsing it.’

  ‘You’re a smart girl. You’ll figure it out’ Chris assured her.

  Tilda blushed.

  ‘What about being a travel agent? You know, for one of those companies that helps people plan trips around the world and gap years? I’ve heard they like to have people with lots of travel experience’ Sam suggested casually as she put more food in her mouth.

  Tilda raised an eyebrow. ‘That’s a thought.’

  Chris became certain of one thing at that moment. He liked Sam for his daughter.

  Sam felt the same about Chris. He was a nice guy. She hoped she was making a good impression on him too, considering the one she’d made on Tilda’s Mum. She had to get one parent on side, at the very least.

  And Sam and Tilda? They talked easily, finding that although they didn’t have an enormous amount in common (their lives had taken very different trajectories) the chemistry from the kiss seemed to exist beyond that. And it was obvious to both of them. Not to mention Chris.

  After everyone was stuffed to the gills, Chris decided it was time he and his daughter exchanged gifts. His to her was a new duvet cover, a beautiful Egyptian cotton set.

  ‘This is really nice but I’m not letting you throw out my Power Rangers, if that’s what you were thinking. I’m being buried with them.’

  ‘Can’t blame me for trying.’

  And then it was Tilda’s turn. ‘Dad, I don’t have anything I could hand you right now…’ she began.

  ‘That’s OK, Tilda’ Chris said understandingly. ‘I know you lost your job recently. I wasn’t really expecting-’

  ‘…But it’s waiting for you at the airport. A ticket to Australia.’

  Chris blinked.

  ‘What?’

  It was true. Tilda had called the airport and changed the ticket with the last of her money.

  ‘It leaves in three hours. So you’ll need to leave here pretty soon if you’re going to make it. It’s one way so you can figure out when you want to come home. Whether that’s in three days or three months.’

  ‘Tilda, that’s mad. I can’t just go to Australia at ten minutes notice!’

  ‘What’s stopping you? You’re retired now and you don’t have Mum nagging at you anymore, telling you what to do. You can do what you want. And I’ll stay here and keep an eye on the house.’

  Chris wanted to say he couldn’t do it. But every reason that he could think of had already been refuted by Tilda. She was right, he was free to do anything he wanted. Still, it was utterly crazy. It was the last thing he’d ever dream of. To just pick up and fly around the world, without a thought.

  And then Chris surprised himself. ‘Maybe it could be fun…’

  ‘Really?!’ Tilda asked, hopefully. She’d half thought he might turn the gift down.

  But Chris simply shrugged. ‘Why not? Maybe it’s not time for the comfy armchair and slippers quite yet. Maybe I could have an adventure.’

  Tilda punched the air ‘Yes! Right, let’s get you packed and I’ll order a cab.’

  Sam and Tilda went upstairs with Chris to help him put some things in his suitcase. Everyone was running around like chickens with their heads cut off, looking for anything Chris thought he might need while he quickly booked a hotel in Sydney on his laptop. Passport, cash card, spare socks, electric toothbrush, everything was thrown in higgledy piggledy but when the taxi turned up twenty minutes later, he was just about ready to go.

  Tilda hugged her father goodbye as Sam stood aside for their privacy.

  ‘This is mad, Tilda. You’re an absolute lunatic. But I hope you know I love that about you’ Chris said as he climbed into the cab.

  ‘Of course you do. Have a great time. And don’t forget to pick up an Ozzie wife while you’re there!’

  Chris chuckled as the cab pulled away.

  Tilda turned to Sam. ‘Just you and me, now.’

  Sam dipped her head. ‘Yeah. Looks like. You didn’t buy your Dad a ticket to Australia just so you could get me to yourself, did you?’ she joked.

  ‘I’ve done crazier things than that for y
ou so far. But I guess that shows what a good kisser you are.’

  ‘So, the mistletoe… It wasn’t just me?’ Sam said.