Making Her Mark

by Renée Dahlia

  ‘Fuck yeah.’ Rachel wanted to punch the air. The change in emotion coursed through her blood in a rush of endorphins. Jacob chuckled, and little shockwaves of desire rumbled in her torso as the sound emitted from her car speakers. Talking to Jacob did more than help eat up the boring kilometres, especially with night driving, where she couldn’t see the landmarks to tick off as she drove. This curiously intense conversation with a man she’d only met a couple of times was surprisingly satisfying.

  ‘What’s the biggest cliché people believe about you?’ he asked. Rachel shifted in her seat, and the car’s speed slowed. She sucked in a sharp, shallow breath and pressed her foot down again, preferring not to use the car’s cruise control settings at night—having to physically do all the aspects of driving helped her stay alert.

  ‘People assume that being bi means I’m attracted to everyone. It’s not like that, more …’ Rachel ran her tongue over her teeth, trying to figure out a way to easily describe how it was personality driven much of the time. A creep was a creep. ‘Oh, I know. Do you watch the women’s game, the WAFL?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘What do you think about the players, as athletes?’

  Jacob answered without pause. ‘That’s easy. They are wonderful athletes. Some of the marks in the first couple of seasons have been magic.’

  ‘And as a presumably heterosexual bloke, do you find them all attractive?’

  ‘Presumably?’ He chuckled again, and she opened her mouth to say that unlike him she didn’t make the assumption he was het, but he continued before she could form a sound, ‘No wait. I’m teasing, there isn’t any presumably about it.’

  She grinned, recalling a discussion with Vanessa, a writer friend who hadn’t realised she was bi until she’d started writing a blog on the subject for an online mag she worked for. Vanessa had formed a theory that most people were somewhere on the bi-spectrum, but society taught them not to notice, teaching them to ignore feelings that jarred against what was expected of them. Rachel liked the sentiment behind the theory even if she wasn’t sure about the reality of it. She’d always known, even if growing up in a small town had taught her to suffocate those feelings. Moving to the city at sixteen had been the best thing for her, and she’d always be grateful to Dad for knowing exactly what to do. She pressed her fingers to the corner of one eye to hold back the solitary tear that threatened whenever life reminded her of her dad and blew out a long breath. What had they been talking about?

  ‘And the WAFL players? Are you physically attracted to all of them?’ Rachel pushed her point, either he would understand, or he’d reveal himself to be a sleaze. She growled in the back of her throat.

  ‘No, I don’t find them all attractive. Why would I?’

  Rachel smiled as he made her point for her. ‘Same, and it’s the same for the men’s game for me as well. Some players are incredible athletes, and I admire their physique. Others I admire because of the way they play the game, and others are simply hot.’

  ‘I think I understand. There are a bunch of things that make someone attractive, and the body they are born with is only part of that.’

  Rachel nodded. ‘Yeah, it’s fucking simple, really.’

  ‘Did you always know?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes. Growing up in a small town can be pretty claustrophobic, especially if you don’t fit. I spent a long time hiding myself, and it wasn’t until I started riding in the city and meeting other queer people that I realised it was okay to be myself.’

  ‘Small towns are not the easiest places to grow up if you don’t fit in with people’s expectations norm.’ He understood without her needing to explain, and the tension in her chest eased.

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘I’m sorry about this misunderstanding. I’ll go now,’ he said. Rachel blinked.

  ‘No.’ She took a breath, not meaning for her response to sound so sharp. ‘I’d like to talk more and hear your side of it. I didn’t stick up for Allira as much as I could have when we were at school. I should have stepped up when people were awful.’

  ‘You were a teenager.’ He shrugged, or at least, she guessed he did, because how could she hear a shrug? ‘Allira is tough, and besides, high school is hell for everyone.’

  In a few words, he’d summed up how hard it must have been to go to the city on a sports scholarship. She’d heard a few things about his parents from Allira, the odd throwaway comment telling her how much they loved Jacob and Allira. To leave a tight-knit family at such a young age had to have been difficult.

  ‘I agree. Allira is tough, caring, smart, everything you’d want in a doctor.’ Rachel paused, ‘Please don’t forgive past me for not doing enough.’

  ‘Like you said, we are all learning, and she seems to like having you around the house.’

  ‘Thanks. You’re right, I’m stronger in myself than I was back then, more able to stand up for my friends when they need it. I hope that helps.’

  ‘And openly owning an identity that would be easy to hide. That’s a strong choice.’ His voice held a note of something odd, a feeling just out of reach. Was he annoyed at her? And at which part? She looked back on her high school years, cringing at her self-centred view of the world. She’d just wanted to be somewhere she could find herself. She’d connected with Allira over sport, they were on the girls’ soccer team together, and not really anywhere else. Allira tended to hang out in the library, studying, or maybe hiding? She must make time to have a chat to her about it all one evening and apologise for not seeing. Rachel laughed to cover up all the angst bucking in her stomach.

  ‘Thanks. I am stronger now than I was. I used to hide. Now, I’m just like jazz hands—here am I, gay as fuck.’

  His burst of laughter, loud and echoey through her car’s speaker system, made most of the anxiety in her guts dissipate. A car came the other way, not dimming its high beams, and she squinted against the sudden bright lights piercing the back of her eyeballs.

  ‘Do you mind chatting for a bit longer, it’s helping keep me awake as I drive.’ Banter over the phone with Jacob took away some of the sexual tension which hummed between them when she could see him—his strong athletic frame drew her eye. Even so, talking to him and listening to his rich deep voice sent a pleasant warmth over her skin.

  ‘No problem. What do you want to talk about?’ Jacob asked.

  Chapter 7

  Jacob relaxed in his unit, shifting the ice pack on his knee. Damn, twinging his MCL at training today was the last thing he needed going into the finals. And he knew he shouldn’t have said yes to Rachel’s request to keep talking. All that discussion about who she found attractive had done nothing to rid the image of her from his mind. Her tight, athletic physique, her muscle control, her sparkling brown eyes, and freckled pert nose, the way she held her chin high and seemed so much bigger than her tiny frame, all stayed at the forefront of his mind as her voice echoed clear and bright through the phone. So much for keeping his sister’s housemate at a distance—it’d seemed easy when Allira had mentioned Rachel’s ex-girlfriend. Tonight’s discussion gave him permission to feel desire he wasn’t sure he wanted. They shared a connection because she’d gone to high school with his sister, and through Tranquil Waters. Damn it, she knew his family, she’d had her own demons to fight at school, and had grown up, ready to use that fight on behalf of others. No wonder Allira was happy to have Rachel as her housemate, they were similar in lots of respects, both determined, competitive, ready to fight against injustices.

  ‘Fuck, I don’t know. Tell me something that will keep me awake.’ Her relaxed swearing made Jacob grin.

  ‘Talking will keep you awake. Why don’t you tell me a story?’ He wanted to know what she’d pick, and he needed some time to digest everything she’d said. He enjoyed listening to her voice with its warm tones and the way her brusque manner made him smile. Rachel seemed to say what she thought without filter, and her brutal honesty appealed to him because her brain came without the usual contrived misu
nderstandings about him. She’d grown up with Allira, they’d gone to school together, and she accepted Allira and him. Perhaps he was naïve, as her matter of fact way of talking about being bi pushed him into uncomfortable territory, making him realise that he had his own biases. She’d mentioned being too wrapped up in her own problems to help Allira. He didn’t want to think he had fallen into the same trap, so he encouraged Rachel to talk giving him the time to process it all, to truly understand all the nuances. It was the lawyer in him, he wanted all the little details, the loopholes, and to know everything about how something worked. Acceptance was only the first stage in understanding something new to him.

  ‘Haven’t I talked enough about me already?’

  ‘I’m not the one hurtling down the highway in a car. Hell, I’m not asking for a deep and meaningful story. Tell me about your training routine or something.’

  Rachel chuckled, ‘I keep fit by riding work in the mornings.’

  ‘What does that mean?’

  ‘Racehorses don’t just run in races. They have to get fit, be properly conditioned, just like any other athlete. And someone has to ride them.’

  ‘Jockeys?’

  Rachel sighed, ‘Yes and no. Not all jockeys ride work every day. Some of the seniors don’t want to risk getting hurt, so they have gym exercise programs, and track riders do the hard work. Jockeys still do fast work, and have a few favourites they ride each day.’

  ‘Why do you do take the risk?’ Jacob frowned. Was she just reckless?

  ‘Unfortunately, I’m not one of the riders who has trainers fighting to get me on their horses. I have to work for every ride and prove to trainers that I’m reliable and worthy. I ride trackwork every morning to build my reputation and get to know the up and coming horses.’

  ‘I understand. You can claim a good horse before another jockey gets them.’

  Rachel laughed, ‘You don’t have to make it sound so fiercely competitive.’

  ‘Hey, competitive is my middle name.’ Jacob grinned.

  ‘Mine too.’

  The phone crackled against Jacob’s ear, as though she’d driven through a low reception zone.

  ‘Basically you are saying this is your whole life.’ He needed to create distance between them, before he ended up charmed by the connection between them. A heavy breath sounded through the phone.

  ‘I don’t have time for much else. I try to make time for my family—hence the late drive home from the farm tonight. Horses take up most of my time.’ She spoke with a finality which made him wonder if friends had accused her of spending too much time with horses.

  ‘Remind me about your family.’ He changed the subject to something easier. He’d been in the year between her brothers at primary school. Leaving town at such a young age had created distance, so he didn’t really know her family very well, plus he liked hearing her voice and her laughter.

  ‘Mama still rules the roost at the farm. My oldest brother John would tell you different because he’s the official farm manager, but she’s definitely the matriarch.’

  ‘And your Dad?’

  ‘Died five years ago.’ Rachel’s voice flattened.

  Jacob flinched, ‘Oh, sorry to hear that. I remember him, he was a great guy.’

  ‘Thanks.’ She paused, and he waited for her. ‘John is getting married soon to Toshiko. She’s a veterinarian and grew up in Japan.’

  ‘The professional punter.’

  ‘You remembered.’

  He smiled, ‘Everything you’ve told me is seared on my memory.’ He rubbed his face after blurting out his thoughts. Normally he had excellent control of his mouth, keeping many of his thoughts to himself. Rachel made him feel safe to relax his control. He squirmed on the couch, not wanting to think too hard about why he felt like that around her.

  ‘Right?’ Her surprised intake of breath hummed loud down the phone. ‘My other brother, Shannon, lives in a cottage beside his stables. He moved out of the main house years ago. John bugs him to move back in, but it’s crowded now with John and Toshiko in one wing, and Mama and Serena in the other.’

  ‘Your house has wings?’ The stark difference of his upbringing in a tiny cottage to hers in a mansion made him pause. A sharp laugh punched out of his phone, vibrating in his ear in time with the roar of warning in his brain. Keep your distance. She won’t understand.

  ‘Not like airplane wings. It’s one of those old rambling farm houses that has sections added to it over the years. My family has been at Merindah Park for generations, like it goes way back to the Gold Rush era.’

  Jacob swallowed back the retort about his family being on Taungurung land for sixty-thousand years. ‘Gold Rush, when was that?’

  ‘Eighteen-fifties, or thereabouts. Anyway, the story goes that some bloke way back in my family travelled from Sydney to the goldfields, made a bunch of cash, married Merindah, and bought our farm.’

  ‘Merindah?’ He stood up and the ice pack fell to the floor with a light thud. He stretched out his leg, testing the knee gently.

  ‘Yes. We, the family, don’t know much about her, she’s not really mentioned in any of the letters or the farm’s account books. I’ve always wanted to know more about her. Dad told me years ago that she came from the Sydney region—Merindah is a Gadigal name from around there.’

  ‘You mean she was Aboriginal?’ Jacob sat heavily on the couch at the connection between him and Rachel. His mob was local, but their collective history was messy.

  ‘That’d be my guess. We don’t really know because the blokes who did all the farm paperwork over the generations didn’t really keep records on their wives and what they did. There are letters from later, but not much mention of her. And it was too early for photographs.’

  Jacob took a couple of deep breaths to slow his heart rate, ‘You might never know. Those weren’t the best times for our mob. Why are you telling me this?’

  ‘I thought you’d find it interesting. I do.’ She had the luxury of thinking about it as interesting history, loosely connected, when the reality for him was closer and deeper. He wore his marginalisation on his skin, while she got to hide hers if she chose. Throughout high school, at boarding school far from his family, he’d kept a poster of the iconic photo of Nicky Winmar on the footy field holding out his shirt, pointing to his skin. Black and Proud. He recognised on some level, she’d faced the same crap he had. From Allira’s story of how she’d met Rachel, Rachel didn’t hide herself from the world, kissing her now ex-girlfriend on the mouth in the middle of a crowded pub. There was a freedom in the way she embraced herself fully in public, as she’d said ‘jazz hands, here I am’. If he was completely honest with himself, he envied her choice to embrace herself loudly.

  ‘Not many families have records going back that far.’ He fell back on a bland phrase, the most innocuous way he could refer to the past and move on from the discussion.

  ‘True. I’ve always imagined it was a love story, what with naming the farm after her and everything.’

  Jacob coughed, caught between a sneer and surprise, ‘I didn’t pick you for someone romantic.’

  ‘I don’t want romance for me, but what’s not to love about a love story. My parents had the best “enemies to lovers” story,’ she laughed quietly.

  ‘My parents are madly in love too. It’s nice, or at least, it is when I don’t think about it too hard.’

  Her laugh grew in volume, ‘Yeah, no one wants to think about their own conception.’

  ‘You had to go there, didn’t you?’ He joined her in laughing, trying desperately not to think about his parents having sex. They were quite affectionate, which was cool, but the idea of actual sex made him want to gag a little.

  ‘I’m sorry.’ She laughed in that not sorry way. ‘I’ll be at the airport soon, and then it’s all city driving —it’s easier to stay awake then. You can hang up if you want.’ In one comment, she reminded him that he shouldn’t care. She was Allira’s housemate, not anyone special. He’d start
ed out talking to her for the sake of his team mates and the scam they were caught up in, and kept going for Allira’s sake, not wanting his sister to have to deal with Rachel falling asleep at the wheel.

  ‘Nah, it’s fine. Just wondering if you are still alert.’ He stuck to the plan, keeping her awake so she didn’t end up on Allira’s emergency room bed.

  She giggled, ‘How could I be anything else? You made me talk endlessly about myself and I know nothing about you.’

  ‘It’s a skill. Plus, I’m not the hopeless romantic.’ Jacob teased.

  ‘You are never going to let me live that down, are you?’ She bit at his joke, and he smiled. Jacob tested his knee as he walked slowly around his lounge.

  ‘I’m tucking it away to bring up next time I need ammunition against you.’

  She giggled, the sweetest sound, ‘It’s good to know I haven’t lost my touch.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I mean that you know I’m going to pounce one day and you are already getting prepared.’ Did she mean to sound so bloody flirtatious?

  ‘Be careful what you wish for.’ He flirted back, unable to stop himself. A roar of laughter filled his ear, and his chest filled with warmth. He’d created her noise of joy and he wanted to do it again and again.

  ‘It’s been really great to talk to you. Thanks for keeping me awake.’ Rachel’s voice suddenly sounded tense, as though she’d also remembered all the reasons they shouldn’t be flirting.

  ‘No problem. I’d hate for you to get hurt. Allira seems to care for you.’ He threw his sister’s name into the conversation, to remind himself as well.

  Rachel made a whooshing breathy sound, ‘I’m thankful Allira offered me a room at her place. You are so lucky to have her as part of your family.’

  Jacob tensed again, pausing mid-stride. ‘I wasn’t sure of you at the start, she has such a big heart, and I didn’t want anyone to take advantage of her.’

  ‘I understand.’ Her voice trembled a little and he wondered if he’d missed something. ‘I have two big brothers, I know how that works.’