As Annie climbed up onto Santa’s lap, he began a deep and meaningful conversation about the woes of sleigh travel, Ally turned her camera on and moved across the room to get a better shot. Although Bron and Jackie had already taken Annie to have her annual Santa photo at the shopping centre weeks ago, Ally had insisted on bringing along her camera to take a few shots. The professional photos of Annie in her good dress, her hair perfectly brushed and angelic were perfect. But even before Bron saw Ally’s shots—Annie in her overalls, her hair in two braids, front tooth missing, sitting on Surfer Santa’s lap in a neighbour’s garage down the street—Bron knew they would be far more precious.
Santa motioned to Ally. “Is this your aunt you want to stick around a bit longer?”
Ally lowered the camera and forced a smile. She motioned with a thumb to Bron. “That’d be the other one, Santa.”
“Well, Annie,” he said, “I’ve been watching you on my North Pole camera, and I can see you’re very lucky to have an aunt like yours.”
Bron could feel her eyes watering at the compliment. Although she’d never met the man, she imagined he knew about Libby’s accident—the whole town did. He was obviously putting a face to the name of the aunt who had returned home to parent her niece.
In her peripheral vision, Bron could feel Ally watching her. When Bron looked across the room, teary-eyed, Ally only allowed their gazes to meet for a moment before she left the garage and headed over to the window displays. With a glance back at Annie, who was deep in conversation with Santa, Bron followed her.
She crossed the front lawn and stood next to Ally. Silently, they admired the intricate display behind glass, the faint notes of The Little Drummer Boy raining down from a speaker set up somewhere above them on the roof. The snow-clad town inside reminded her of Boston. An intricately decorated carousel revolved in the centre of the display next to the town Christmas tree. It was so like the one that would be standing in Boston Common until the beginning of January, an annual gift from Nova Scotia for their assistance during the Halifax Explosion a century before. At the back of the display, Santa was making his way down a red-bricked chimney. Fireplaces were lit inside the miniature houses, and in the foreground, carollers sang to the townsfolk. She sighed at the simplicity of the miniature world in front of her.
“I’ve always loved displays like this, but imagine getting all of this out every December, and then having to pack it all away. I mean, it’s worth it, but I don’t envy—”
“I’m in love with you, Bron,” Ally said, her voice so low and broken that Bron instantly felt faint. “I’ve loved you for a really long time. And I know I’m a pretty complicated person. I’m trying really fucking hard to adjust to being out of Oberon, and I know it might look like I have my shit together, but…I don’t. Not yet.” The pleasant ache low in Bron’s belly ignited once again as Ally searched Bron’s features for a reaction. The soft white glow from the display threw shadows across the sharp lines of Ally’s face, her square jaw, her perfect nose. She’s so beautiful. “I’m too reckless,” Ally asserted, her voice hoarse. “But as much as I know that I’m no good for you, I know other things which kind of make up for it, I think, maybe…” She shoved her hands deep in the pockets of her denim shorts. “I know that you’re still in a lot of pain,” she said softly, “pain over losing Libby, about what’s best for Annie. But I think I can make you feel better.” Her voice dropped an octave when she continued, “I don’t want to say I can fix you, because you’re not broken, but I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want you. The way I want to be with you. You make me feel like a good person, and I want to be good.” Bron watched her visibly swallow. “I just think you’re so…” she trailed off. “I just need you to know that I love you.”
Bron licked her lips. Tell her.
Ally cleared her throat. “You don’t have to say it back,” she whispered.
Before she could find words, Annie was running across the grass and coming toward them. “He looked different than the other Santa at the shops,” she said mindlessly. “But I like him better because he always knows my name. He says I have to go to bed very soon because this street is his next stop, and we don’t live very far up.”
Bron looked up at Ally who was focused on the carousel in the display, her jawline tensed, her eyes shining with unshed tears. Oh, Ally. Bron’s heart pounded at the sight of her turmoil.
“Come on!” Annie whined, pulling on Bron’s wrist.
“Can we finish this at home?” she whispered to Ally.
Ally nodded. “I just need a minute,” she said, her voice coarse. “But I’ll be right behind you.”
After Bron spent the better half of an hour setting out milk and biscuits for Santa, and under Annie’s instruction some carrots for the reindeers, she was finally able to get an animated Annie into bed. “Now don’t you come downstairs to the lounge room to sneak a peek, because Santa knows when you’re sleeping, and he definitely knows when you’re awake!” She sing-songed, pulling the top sheet over Annie’s shoulders. Also, I have to spend the next two hours assembling your bicycle, and I’d prefer to do so in the coolest room in the house, which just so happens to be the lounge room.
Downstairs, Bron found Ally at the kitchen sink slicing potatoes for the potato salad for Christmas lunch. Even over the gentle stream running from the tap, there was no way Ally wouldn’t have heard her coming down the stairs and into the kitchen, but still, she didn’t turn around.
Bron jiggled her car keys against her thigh. “I have to go pick up Mum from the church. I want to finish our conversation, believe me I do, but I’m already late. I’ll be ten minutes—tops.”
When Ally turned, her stare was blank. “Okay.”
We’ll talk when I get back, her pointed stare promised. Ally looked away.
She drove the few streets over and found Jackie waiting on the steps outside the church.
“Hey, Mum. Enjoy the free aircon?”
“Cheeky,” Jackie admonished as she buckled her seat belt. “Enjoy the lights?”
She nodded.
“You’re quiet,” Jackie said when they stopped at the intersection of Main Street.
“Am I?”
“You are. Does it have anything to do with Miss Ally?”
“Why would it have anything to do with Ally?”
“You tell me.”
“Can we not do this right now?” she pleaded. “It can be your Christmas present to me.”
“Good, because I haven’t had a chance to get you anything yet,” Jackie kidded.
She chuckled. “Perfect.”
By the time she arrived home with Jackie, Daniel was back from Carly’s. She followed Jackie into the kitchen where Ally was still chopping potatoes. “Ah, not directly onto my sink!” Jackie scolded Ally. “Get a bloody chopping board out.”
“Sorry, Jacks,” Ally said, but none of the usual playfulness could be found in her tone.
“Make us a cuppa, will you, love?” Jackie asked Bron. “I’ve still got a few pressies to wrap upstairs.”
“Can you tell Daniel to turn the telly down?” Bron called out to Jackie. “I don’t need Annie making curtain calls.”
She flicked open the lid of the kettle and filled it under the filter tap. Ally moved closer to place a dirtied pot in the sink. The liquid detergent foamed as Ally filled the sink to wash the pot. Just being closer to Ally drew a wave of peace over Bron. This thing between them was only growing stronger. She looked up at Ally. “You’re not going to bed yet, are you?”
When Ally looked down at her, the intensity of her gaze bared her adoration, pure and sincere. Bron’s heart raced. “Not yet. I’ve still got to put the bloody bike together—”
“I’ll help you. I’ll take a shower, and hopefully by then everyone else will be asleep.” She placed a hand at the small of Ally’s back. Ally tensed beneath her light touch. “And we can talk.”
Ally licked her lips and went back to scrubbing the pot. “Go have your shower.�
�
Bron passed the lounge room on the way upstairs. “I’m just going to have a shower,” she told Daniel. “I’ll say goodnight now because you’ll probably be asleep when I come down.”
Bron watched Daniel shrug indifferently, his attention focused on the television. “Maybe.”
Bron sighed. “Well, goodnight then.”
Daniel drew his gaze away from the television and looked his sister up and down. “Good night, weirdo?”
She groaned internally. Would she ever get Ally alone? She turned back toward the lounge room. “Oh, Al and I have to put the bike together, and we could really do with an extra hand.”
That got him up off the lounge. “Nope. Your present, your problem. I’m going to bed.”
She grinned. Too easy.
She climbed the stairs, her mind racing as she tried to sort through what Ally needed from her. What should I start with? You’re right, Annie is ours now. Was that too much pressure right off the bat? I’m staying. Perhaps? I love you. At the last thought, her entire body instantly buzzed with anticipation.
A whisper came from the master bedroom. “Bron, is that you?”
Bron poked her head into Jackie’s room. A few presents were wrapped on top of the bedspread, and her mother was fiddling with sticky tape.
“Gosh, it’s nice having you home on Christmas Eve,” Jackie said softly. “I was absolutely dreading this Christmas…but you’re here. Ally’s here.”
She smiled. “I’m happy we’re all here together.”
“I think Libby’s here too,” Jackie murmured gently. “She’ll always be with us.”
Bron’s heart seemed to lodge in her throat. As she watched her mother fold the edges of the gift wrapping, her heart and mind were at odds with how to reply. She didn’t believe in the afterlife. Jackie knew that. But Jackie’s words were undeniably true. Libby would always be around. In the god-awful floral shower curtain she had once gifted Jackie, the age-old dent in the front bumper Libby had made during her second driving lesson at sixteen. But mostly, Libby would always be around in every little thing Annie said, every gesture she made. Choked for words, she nodded softly. “I love you, Mum.”
“I love you too, darl.”
She took a quick shower. When she stepped out of the bathroom, Jackie’s and Daniel’s bedroom doors were both closed. Perfect. Towel drying her hair, she descended the stairs.
On the hardwood floor in front of the colourfully-lit Christmas tree, Ally sat amongst what looked like poorly organized piles of bike parts. Bron’s father’s old aluminium toolbox was open beside her, aglow from the light of the television. The few pages of instructions that she’d stubbornly cast aside fluttered across the lounge room floor each time the large fan oscillated in the corner of the room.
Bron swallowed. It seemed she was going to have to start. It was only fair. Ally had been brave enough to start everything else between them.
“I love you,” Bron whispered.
Ally looked up.
Bron pressed her temple to the cool wood of the doorframe. “I should have said it earlier tonight. I’m sorry.”
Ally gently dropped a spanner and sat back on her heels. “Come here,” she whispered, her voice lower and huskier than Bron had ever heard.
She let out a nervous laugh, avoiding Ally’s gaze as she moved across the room and sat down, pulling her legs beneath her.
Ally’s gaze was trained on her, intense and vibrant. She tilted Bron’s chin up, and kissed her chastely. After a moment, she pulled back. She picked up the spanner again, refocusing intently on the handlebars she’d assembled while Bron had showered. But there was a splitting grin across her face that Bron figured hadn’t been instigated by attaching an orange reflector to handlebars.
Ally handed her the bike seat and a sparkly green rod. “How about you grease the end of the rod, blondie?”
Bron smiled, took the seat from Ally’s hands and set to work.
After two reruns of Friends and a good hour spent listening to Dr. Oz rant about heart health, the bike was finally standing in all its glory.
Bron ran her fingers across the little hairs at the back of Ally’s neck as she clipped the cane basket to the handlebars. She littered kisses over the prominent ridges of Ally’s spine, and felt Ally’s body tremble beneath her lips. “It’s two in the morning. Come to bed.”
Ally stood back, inspecting their handiwork. “What if Annie sits on it and it collapses?”
Tiredly, Bron shoved the instructions and plastic coverings back into the box. “Then she’ll realize Santa’s not very competent.” She pushed the box between the lounge and the wall, making sure it was completely out of sight. “Just think how wonderful she’ll think you are when you’re the one who fixes Santa’s mistakes.”
She turned off the fairy lights on the tree, the room instantly falling darker with just the light of television infomercials. She held the enormous Santa sack open wide while Ally lowered the bike into it. When it was completely swallowed by red satin, Ally tied the white bow of the sack around the thin flagpole. After double-checking that everything was ready for the morning, Bron flicked off the television.
Exhausted, they reached the top of the stairs. When Bron reached for Ally’s hand and tugged on it, one of Ally’s eyebrows rose at Bron’s daring suggestion. “Annie will come in as soon as the sun is up,” she warned.
Bron shrugged, hooking two fingers into the belt loops of Ally’s shorts to pull her closer. “I don’t care.” She kissed Ally firmly, surely, and inched her thumbs beneath the hem of Ally’s singlet. “I don’t care,” she repeated into the kiss, desperate for Ally to return the kiss with equal vigour.
Bron felt the moment Ally truly understood the gravity of her words. Ally’s body gave into the kiss with a burning ferocity, her hands sliding over Bron’s behind, hoisting her up against her. She hooked her legs around Ally’s waist and grasped at her shoulders, her core twitching hotly at Ally’s possessive hold, her promising kiss. A deep yearning ached in her chest, and Bron doubted it would ever quell.
At first, Bron thought she’d been so wrapped up in their kiss that the walk to her own room at the end of the hall had transpired too quickly. But then she heard the creak of Libby’s door. She reached a hand out and grasped the doorjamb, halting Ally’s step. She broke the kiss, her lips sliding across Ally’s hot cheek to her ear. Ally’s chest heaved, her breathing unsteady. “Hey, hey,” Bron murmured. Ally moved a hand from Bron’s behind, raking it up into her hair as she sucked at the tendons in Bron’s neck. Bron shuddered. “Not Libby’s room.”
Ally nodded against her and swiftly walked them to the end of the hall. “Libby would have thrown a hissy fit if she was around to see this,” Ally mumbled, her quiet laughter vibrating against Bron.
Bron giggled, a quiet peace overcoming her. There were so many things Bron desperately wanted to tell her baby sister about as each day passed. One day, if she ever got to see Libby again, her unbridled love for Ally Shepherd would be at the top of the list.
Chapter Sixteen
It wasn’t Annie who woke Bron on Christmas morning—but a loud bang. The wooden stick holding the window ajar cracked under the pressure. The noise of the window slamming down threw Bron upright in bed. Ally sat up against her, the light sweat on their bodies cooling in the morning breeze.
Bron’s hand grasped Ally’s forearm. “The window stick snapped,” she whispered softly, surprised that the glass hadn’t shattered.
Wiping a hand over her face, Ally tried to find her bearings in the semidarkness. “What’s the time?” she slurred.
The sun had already begun its ascent over the hill. Bron looked to the digital clock on her bedside table. “Twenty to six.”
For a prolonged moment, they listened for any sound indicating the noise had woken Annie. When the house remained silent, Ally pressed an effortless kiss to Bron’s bare shoulder blade and slid back down the mattress.
Her body still humming from the sudden
wake-up, Bron sat up against the headboard and ran a hand through her hair. She felt across the mattress for the singlet she always slept in, and eventually found it wedged halfway underneath Ally’s pillow.
She sat quietly for a moment, looking down at Ally, naked in her bed. Her breath caught when she realized Ally was wide awake, her eyes open and watching Bron.
She smiled softly, reaching out to trail her fingers across Ally’s hairline. Her heart was full. They basked in the serene moment until Ally shifted. She pressed a kiss to Bron’s lips, pulled herself up to sit on the edge of the bed, and began to dress.
“You don’t have to go back to your room. I thought I made that clear last night,” she whispered.
After pulling her own singlet over her head, Ally rested a hand against the mattress and focused on Bron. “You did. I’m not going back to my room,” she whispered. “I just need to get something.”
“Oh.” Bron hugged her knees to her chest. “Okay.”
She waited patiently for Ally to return to the room. Her body vibrated with the little amount of sleep she’d had in the last few days, but it pulsed with a childish excitement too. Today was going to be a good day.
When Ally masterfully tiptoed around the heavy creaking door and back into the room, she kneeled on the mattress beside Bron. She nervously fumbled with a wrapped little box in her hand. The certainty that it was jewellery was as terrifying as it was tremendous.
“I didn’t want to give this to you in front of everyone.” Ally wouldn’t meet her gaze, fixing it on the bedsheet instead. “I didn’t want to embarrass you or anything.”
“Ally…”
Ally placed the gift in her lap. She slowly unwrapped it, noting that Ally had gone out and bought her own wrapping paper, opting not to use the few rolls the entire family had used on everybody’s presents. After casting the paper aside, Bron held a navy box with silver trim in her hands. Her heart hammered as she lifted the lid.
Echo Point Page 18
