“Okay, Annie,” Ally said. “Tell me how you want to do this. Do you want to count to three, or five, or ten?”
Before Annie could decide on the length of her countdown, Ally had covered the loose tooth with the tissue and quickly pulled it. Daniel laughed and Bron shot a scolding glance in his direction.
“Look,” Ally said, holding the tooth in the bloody tissue.
In shock, Annie started to tear up. “You tricked me,” she whispered, poking her tongue through the vacant space in her bottom row of teeth. As entitled as she was to loathe Ally in that moment, instead she fell into Ally’s arms, allowing a chuckling Ally to pepper her cheeks with kisses.
“But wasn’t it better that I tricked you? Look how wonderful you were! So brave!” As Ally lifted a hand to hold the back of a teary Annie’s head, something inside Bron swelled at seeing Ally so nurturing. When Annie pulled back, Ally held the tooth up to Annie’s eye level. “Where’s this going to go, baby?”
In the space of twenty-four hours, Bron found herself playing the roles of Tooth Fairy, Aunt, Sister, Daughter, Lover, and Santa Claus. On a rainy Saturday afternoon, the day after Toothgate, Bron and Ally made the half-hour drive out to the big shopping complex a few suburbs over to finish their Christmas shopping.
As she circled the first level of the car park, she realised that everybody in a forty-kilometer radius had decided on the same thing. It was the twenty-third of December, and the final thirty-six hours of Christmas shopping had begun, so why had she expected anything less? She pulled into the long queue up to the second level and turned down the crackling radio. “Why don’t we get Annie something from the both of us?” she suggested.
Worry had settled upon Bron not forty-eight hours before. Ally would be scraping the bottom of the barrel to buy something nice for Annie, as well as presents for the rest of them. Bron didn’t want that.
Ally’s expression was blank for a moment before it clouded over with pride. “We can go halves,” she said firmly. “If we pool our money, we could get her a bigger Santa present too.”
Bron frowned. That wasn’t what she had meant.
Ally sighed. “I know what you’re doing. Unless you’re planning on getting her one of those iPad things as well, I can afford a kid’s bike.”
“Why do you have to be so proud?” Bron asked, relieved that the queue was finally moving.
“I’m aware you’re Little Miss Moneybags, but I can manage to pay for half of Annie’s bike. Or at least a wheel,” Ally joked.
Bron laughed. “I’m not rich. I’m…comfortable.”
Ally reached across the console and rested a hand just above Bron’s knee. “So am I.”
Ten minutes later, after tailing a mother with a pram with the stalking skill of a paparazzo, Bron had found parking. Ally’s hand found hers as they crossed the parking lot.
“Al?” Bron asked when they reached the sliding glass doors of the entrance.
“Yeah?”
“I don’t need anything, okay?”
Ally smirked, squeezing Bron’s fingers before letting them go. “I’ll meet you outside Toys R Us at half-past three?”
Bron remained curious about Ally’s destinations. They didn’t cross paths in the CD store or jeweller where Bron purchased two of Jackie’s presents, or in the home entertainment section of Target where Bron picked up the portable speakers for Daniel. As she made her way around the centre, Bron encouraged herself not to search for Ally. She made such an effort not to spy, that she couldn’t really blame herself when, halfway up the escalator to Level Three, she looked down to see Ally outside Regan’s Jewellers, the same store Bron had visited not half an hour before. Ally was stuffing a tiny, dark blue plastic bag—a Regan’s bag—into a larger paper bag. Had Ally bought her jewellery? She quickly averted her gaze, but the damage had been done. She’d already seen too much.
Choosing a gift for Ally proved harder than she’d anticipated. She wanted to get Ally something meaningful, but at the same time, she didn’t want to risk upstaging her. What if Ally hadn’t been in the jeweller buying her a gift? What if she’d only bought Jackie a plain necklace, and on Christmas morning, Bron opened Ally’s gift to find a book or a DVD? If she went too crazy, like she had on the camera for Ally’s birthday, her pride would be irrevocably damaged.
The money matter was a sore point. The reality was that, with the royalties from her books, she’d been more than comfortable for a long time. Her sunny, spacious one-bedroom Back Bay apartment may not have been Beacon Hill, but it was still relatively upmarket. The only reason she’d ever had overdue electricity or water bills was simply because she forgot to pay them, not because she couldn’t. Even during the year-long period she’d sent large cheques home to help Libby when Annie was little, Bron had barely missed the extra money. In the last four months, she’d come to realize that, although they weren’t strapped for cash, the rest of her family, and Ally, lived quite differently.
Inside the bookshop, she headed straight to the children’s section. If there was one thing she could fault Libby on, it was not providing enough books for Annie. She was going to fix that. She scanned the shelves for a title that would interest Annie, her gaze catching every so often on the spine of a picture book or chapter book she’d illustrated. She selected a few chapter books for young readers, hoping they weren’t too difficult for Annie. She was an intelligent six-year-old, but at the first sign of struggle, her interest always waned. Bron smiled, wondering just how well a gift of books was going to go down with her. Unenthusiastically, she assumed. Maybe Santa can play bad cop with the books, Bron thought.
On her way to the counter, she wandered past the gift table and stopped. Between an arrangement of Louisa May Alcott’s Little Women and a few Austen titles sat a gorgeous brown satchel bag that immediately caught her eye. When she picked it up, she found that it was a soft leather. The image of it hanging off Ally’s shoulder as she left for university was vivid. The fact that it wasn’t a designer label made it all the more perfect.
After making her purchase, she went straight back to the car park and hid the satchel bag beneath her seat. She contemplated leaving the presents she’d bought for Annie, Daniel and Jackie in the car too, but knowing that Ally would quickly figure her out, she carried those back into the centre with her.
When she rounded the corner to Toys R Us, Ally was standing patiently at the front of the store.
“Sorry to keep you waiting,” she said. “I just checked my phone and realized I let time get away from me.”
Ally raised her eyebrows. “That’s okay.” She grinned. “You’re out of breath. I don’t know, Bron. You might have to bring those half-hour morning runs of yours up to the full hour. You’ve got a good seven years on me and you’re going to need to be able to keep up.”
She rolled her eyes at the joke and let Ally take her hand again. As they made their way toward the sports section at the back, a young mother did a double take at their clasped hands and quickly averted her gaze. She groaned inwardly. After living in Boston for so long, she’d forgotten there were still homophobic pockets of society.
Apparently, she wasn’t the only one who caught the snide glance. “I think we’re scaring the children,” Ally joked, her grip on Bron’s hand unwavering.
“God forbid.”
In the sports section, Ally was like a big kid, immediately lifting a display bike as far as the security chain would allow it to be pulled from its stand. “This one is cool.”
She inspected the back of it. “She’s going to need training wheels. Will they be able to go over that hubcap?”
Ally scoffed. “Nope, no training wheels. Forget it. Out of the question.”
“Good luck with that, Al. She’s the most uncoordinated child I’ve ever seen. I don’t need a broken arm.”
“You won’t have one. Annie will.”
“Yeah, and I don’t need to drive her forty minutes to the nearest hospital.”
“You won’t have t
o. She’s not going to break anything. I’ll teach her to ride it.”
Bron sat down on a bike seat. “How much is it?”
Ally lifted the tag that was hanging over the handlebars. “One ninety.”
She inspected the bright green glittery paint. “She’s going to scratch it.”
“Oh?” Ally feigned surprise. “Well, if I’d known that, I would have suggested we just pick her up one from the local tip.”
Bron chuckled. If somebody had told her six months ago that the most important thing that Christmas would be deciding on the right bike for a six-year-old—with Ally Shepherd—she would have called them foolish.
Ally swung a leg over the bike and sat on the low seat. She pedalled as far as the chain would allow and pulled on the brakes, the wheels screeching across the white linoleum floor. Bron’s eyebrows shot up. “Ally,” she hissed. “You’ll get in trouble.”
“You’re cute when you’re being a Goody Two-shoes.”
“I’m not a Goody Two-shoes. I stole something once.”
Ally scoffed. “What did you steal? A packet of sugar from a food court?”
“I was fourteen and I stole a pair of headphones from the old Grace Brothers store in the city.”
“You sound proud.”
Bron frowned. “Mum had just died. I was acting out.”
Ally nodded. She chewed at her lip, clearly thinking. “I’ve never stolen anything,” she said after a moment.
“Really?” Bron said, attempting to shroud the surprise in her voice.
Ally thought for a moment. “Nope. Never.”
Respect for Ally flared inside of her, fuelling deep attraction. She was quickly learning that Ally wore morality very well. She wondered if she was blushing. “I’m going to go and find someone to help us. Just don’t get any more out.”
“Yes, dear.”
As Bron reached the end of the aisle, Ally flicked the bell on the bike, its ring echoing loudly. Bron turned around, her grip tightening on the handles of her handbag.
Ally grinned as Bron playfully shook her head and went to find a sales assistant.
Much to Ally’s delight, they purchased the sparkly green bike with its bell and basket. Ally was adamant about the training wheels, refusing the sales assistant’s offer to add on anything more than a matching green helmet. Sighing, Bron let Ally finalize the transaction, enjoying Ally’s proud show of declining the muscular young boy’s assistance to get the bike to the car, her forearms flexing as she skilfully manoeuvred the heavy box into a trolley and pushed it through the centre.
Once they had the box in the boot of the car and had covered it with an old picnic blanket in case Annie ran out to greet them when they arrived home, Ally turned to Bron. “Can I buy you a coffee? Or a Frappuccino? Or whatever hot milky beverage you Yanks drink?” She wrapped her arms around Bron’s waist to pull her closer, and leaned against the car. “I don’t want to go home yet. I want you to myself for a little while longer.”
Bron felt heat rise to her cheeks. “You may.”
They found a table inside an air-conditioned café. “Do you mind if I’m rude for a moment and send an email?” Bron asked. “I haven’t been able to get a decent Wi-Fi signal at home since the fires.”
“Sure.” Ally leaned across the table. “What would you like?” she flirted.
Bron grinned, fully aware that Ally was waiting to hear her own name. “A latte,” Bron coyly requested. She wiggled her eyebrows for extra effect.
Ally smiled widely. “’Kay.” Her lips parted as though she were about to say more, but she stopped herself. “Be right back.”
Bron watched Ally join the short queue at the counter. She was so unbelievably gorgeous, but Bron had known that for years. But, undeniably, the most stunning thing about Ally was her goodness. Just as she pondered the thought, Ally politely gestured to the elderly lady behind her to order in her place. How had she spent so long oblivious to what Libby saw in Ally? She’d been so suspicious of Ally when she’d first arrived home. And now? God, how wrong she had been.
She opened the drafts folder in her email account and located the one she’d debated sending for the last week. She scanned it over once more.
Alice,
I’m currently finishing up a project with Yellowstone Books, but I’d like to draw for your press when this project is complete—if you’ll have me. At this point in time, I plan to relocate to Australia to be with my niece. As you are aware, my current contract with Yellowstone allows me to work on other books between projects, but when I formally relocate, I presume they will lessen my workload due to communication barriers. I plan on informing them of my plans next week. If you wish to set me up with an author, I’m happy to start in the New Year. I hope that, as you proposed, this can become a regular partnership.
Best,
Bronwyn
Her thumb hovered over the send icon. Once the email was sent, her decision was final. She would be coming home for good. So long, Boston. So long, MIT.
An exchange between Ally and the elderly lady at the counter caught her eye. She strained to hear what was being said, watching as Ally pointed to the ‘NO EFTPOS’ sign and said something to the lady. When Ally handed over a purple five-dollar note and generously told the old lady to take it, Bron figured the lady hadn’t had enough cash on her, and Ally had stepped up to help.
Bron’s chest tightened as Ally ordered and took their table number. As she headed back to Bron, the elderly lady reached out from her lonely table and tapped Ally’s tattooed bicep, thanking her profusely. Bron didn’t believe in signs from beyond the grave, but if Libby was going to send one, watching Ally’s continuing exchange with the elderly woman seemed to be enough.
Bron tapped send and watched the email to Alice disappear. It was clear Ally was waiting for more than just coffee dates and casual sex, and Bron wanted to make sure she got what she ordered.
Chapter Fifteen
“So tell me again what you’d like Santa to bring you?” Ally asked Annie, who was skipping ahead of them down the footpath in the darkness.
Swiping at the thin film of sweat on her upper lip, Bron groaned. “Why would you ask her that at nine p.m. on Christmas Eve?” she mumbled lowly.
“Anything?” Annie wondered.
“Anything at all,” Ally said, winking at Bron’s scowl.
Bron braced herself for more unexpected additions or deletions to Annie’s wish list. Annie was constantly changing her mind. Would it be a scooter instead of a bike? A new paddle pool instead of the Slip-N-Slide Bron had picked up at the twenty-four hour Kmart the night before? She worried she was spoiling Annie—that they all were—but this was Annie’s first Christmas without her mother. It wasn’t perfect parenting, she knew this, but if she could fill part of that enormous, missing gap with consumerism, that was exactly what she was going to do.
Thankfully, Annie’s request was one that Bron could fulfil. “I would wish for Aunt Bron never to go back to America and live here with us forever.”
As Annie skipped ahead, Bron and Ally fell into an uncomfortable silence. Her mind reeled with conflicting emotions—the utter joy of being so needed, so wanted, by Annie, and anxiety over Ally’s frustration. She wanted nothing more than to confide in Ally, to tell her that she wasn’t going anywhere, but something had been holding her back in the twenty-four hours—no, thirty hours—since she’d sent the email and received Alice’s ecstatic reply. While she knew Ally deserved to know, she didn’t know if telling Ally privately, separately from the rest of the family, was the best way to go about it. Would it put too much pressure on their relationship? Was she being too presumptuous? The last thing she wanted was for Ally to think she’d suddenly made the decision solely because she wanted a future for the two of them—even if there was some truth to it. While Annie’s wellbeing was a major part of the decision, she knew she would be lying to herself if she said it wasn’t because she wanted Ally in her life too. Ally had made it clear she wanted Bron a
nd Annie to stay in Australia, but what if that changed once Ally had her own place? Once they put some distance between them, would Ally have less of an investment in Bron? In Annie? The last thought made her nauseous.
“Annie,” Bron called out. “Stop outside the gate, please.”
When Bron and Ally caught up to Annie at the bottom of the hill, they found themselves amongst a large crowd gathered on the nature strip who obviously shared their idea of how to spend the last few hours of Christmas Eve. The Queenslander home at the end of the street had an amazing setup. The previous year, the house had been featured in the Sydney Morning Herald Christmas lift-out as one of top twenty decorated homes in Greater Sydney.
Annie looked up at Bron in awe of the brightly decorated house, as though they hadn’t driven past the house a number of times at night in the past thirty days and seen it in all its illuminated glory. Jackie had even walked Annie down there earlier in the week to see the snow machine and food truck the home owners had hired to impress the visiting Channel Nine news team.
“Can we please go inside?” Annie begged, her blond hair bathed extra golden in the white lights. “You will both love it. I promise!”
Bron dropped a gold coin in the donation bucket as they went in, gladdened to read the sticker on the side of the bucket and know that the proceeds were going to the Rural Fire Service. In the opened garage of the house, Santa Claus sat on a plastic garden chair in a pair of tropical-printed board shorts and his classic red jacket. Bron wondered if she’d ever seen anything so Australian.
The three of them joined the small queue of young children and their parents for a photo and chat with Surfer Santa. When they were next in line, Ally asked Annie, “Are you ready to tell Santa what you want?” Nervously licking her lips, Annie nodded. “Don’t forget your pleases and thank yous.”
“Ah, Miss Annie,” Santa said. “So happy to see you back again!”
Annie grinned widely at the sound of her name. Bron was impressed by Surfer Santa’s memory, but then again, Annie was a gorgeous child—inside and out. She wasn’t easy to forget.
Echo Point Page 17
