During a commercial break, Dad pulls me aside. “Sweetie, I know I put you on the spot before, but I do hope you’ll consider going to Australia. I’ll pay for the flights, and you’ll be staying at Mum’s house, so you won’t have any additional expenses. Plus, you’ll get to experience an Aussie Christmas for once.”
“But it doesn’t snow there! Snow is the best thing about Christmas!” I’m aware I sound like a whiny toddler, but I’m very passionate about the holidays. And being so far away from everyone I know would be incredibly depressing. I can picture my parents’ house in a few weeks, the family all congregating in the living room with a roaring fire. They’ll be exchanging presents... Actually, my family isn’t known for the most thoughtful gifts, so I know I won’t be missing out there. But still.
“Imagine being able to go to the beach on Christmas Day! That’s what I used to do. And you’ll get to eat the most delicious seafood...and play cricket after lunch...”
I wrinkle my nose. The idea of swimming in the ocean on Christmas Day seems wrong. I want snowmen and mulled wine and colored lights on all the houses.
“Can I make a decision tomorrow?” I ask.
“I’m just not sure who else would be better placed to go right now,” he says.
“What about Jonas?” I ask, referring to my brother. He’d practically made himself invisible during the FaceTime call earlier, and now he’s sprawled on the floor, letting his kids use him as a jungle gym.
“It doesn’t make sense for him to drag his whole family over to Australia at short notice. Besides, he wouldn’t be able to get time off work, especially at this time of year.”
I begrudgingly agree. Jonas works as a butcher on Main Street, and the holiday season is his busiest.
“Let me at least talk to Brett,” I concede.
“Of course. I’ll book the flights tomorrow.”
I hold my tongue and stand up. My father is already acting like it’s a done deal, and I hate feeling as if I’m being forced into something. I find my phone on the kitchen counter and retreat to my room before dialing Brett’s number. He doesn’t answer, so I leave him a voice message asking him to phone me back. Next, I text Jojo.
How’s everything going over there?
She writes back immediately. I know I can always rely on my bestie to be instantly available.
Jojo: Pretty normal. I forgot to pick up marshmallows for the sweet potatoes, so I tried Tic Tacs. They totally taste like marshmallows on the outside, right?
I can’t help smiling. Jojo has been entertaining me with her crazy stories for as long as I can remember. I also know not to reply right away because she has a habit of relaying information in multiple short bursts.
She doesn’t disappoint me. A moment later, my phone beeps again.
Jojo: I guess you’re not supposed to cook them. Long story short, they turned black and formed a crust that stuck to the pan. Had to throw it out. And oh, yeah. There was a fume issue with them, too. Kind of onion-y.
I wrinkle my nose at the visual.
Jojo: Ended up setting off the smoke alarm. Dad, hair-triggered firefighter that he is, unloaded the fire extinguisher in the kitchen, ruining the rest of the food. We’re eating Chinese takeout. And you?
Hannah: What? That is insane! At least it sounds more exciting than being put on the spot and persuaded to go to Australia for Christmas.
Jojo: Who’s trying to persuade you to go to Australia?
Hannah: My grandma had a fall, and it seems that no one else is available to look after her.
Jojo: Oh, no! I’m sorry to hear about your grandma. Not great timing with the upcoming proposal though, huh?
Hannah: Exactly.
Jojo: Maybe you could ask Brett to go with you.
I pause. The idea of going to Australia with Brett actually doesn’t sound too bad. If I had to be on the other side of the world for Christmas, having him there would at least make it tolerable. But he only just got back to town. I doubt his new employer would let him have any time off.
Hannah: That’s a nice thought, although maybe not very practical.
Jojo: But just imagine it. You could get engaged Down Under!
I smile. A proposal on an Australian beach at sunset sounds almost as perfect as the hypothetical one Jojo suggested earlier.
Hannah: I better go. I have a boyfriend to discuss some important issues with.
Jojo: Good luck!
I’m just about to dial Brett’s number again when my phone beeps. Speak of the devil.
Brett: Sorry I couldn’t answer your call before. Dinner has been crazy. Going to have an early night.
Hannah: Can I come over? I want to speak to you about something. Also, I want to hear about the apartment.
Brett: I’m kind of tired. Can we talk tomorrow?
I stare at the phone, disappointed. This can’t be the only interaction I have with my boyfriend on Thanksgiving. He’s obviously near his phone, so I dial his number again.
“Hey, what’s up?” I sense a trace of annoyance in his voice.
“I just wanted to check in and see how your day has been.”
“I told you it wasn’t great. I need to go chill out for a bit on my own.”
“You mentioned getting a lead on an apartment earlier?”
“Oh, yeah. My buddy Fred is moving out of his studio and asked if I wanted to sublet it starting Monday. Living with Mom and Dad since I got back has been a nightmare.”
I furrow my brow. “Wait. You’re talking as if it’s already been finalized. Don’t I get a say in this?”
“Why do you need a say in where I live? I thought you’d be happy I was moving. With you still at your folks’ house, we’ll finally have some privacy when you stay the night.”
My stomach drops. That doesn’t sound like the next step on the commitment ladder I was expecting.
“I…I guess I thought maybe we’d look for a place together,” I say in a small voice. “You know, so we could both move out. Into the same apartment,” I clarify so there’s zero confusion.
He’s quiet for a moment. “Han…”
“No, don’t worry about it. I get it. You’re obviously in a different headspace from me. I should go. We’ll talk later.”
“Wait…”
I hang up, my chest heavy. I thought…actually, I don’t know what I thought. Even though Brett and I have been together on and off for eight years, I had let myself believe that our relationship was finally going somewhere.
I trudge back out to the living room and find Dad. “I’ll do it,” I say dully.
He looks at me, concerned. “Are you sure? Are you OK?”
“I’m fine.”
I leave the room again before anyone can see the tears welling in my eyes.
I’m not fine.
CHAPTER 3
The gray suitcases the ticket agent loads onto the conveyor belt behind her don’t belie the insanity of the last two days I shoved inside them this morning. I sigh when they disappear from view.
“Miss?” The agent stares at me.
I remove my elbow from the counter with a start. “Excuse me?”
“I was asking you when you would be returning.”
“We haven’t determined the exact date. Sometime after Christmas.” I have actually decided on a date: December 27, but my father has yet to consent to my plans to limit my visit to four weeks.
The agent hands me my passport, driver’s license, and boarding pass. “Your flight departs from gate D8. Have a safe journey!”
My shoulder moans from the weight of the bags I hang from it. I spy my parents and Jojo standing near the escalators. I join them. With a grunt, I deposit my bags at my feet.
My mom pats my arm. “Well, honey, you have two and a half hours until your flight. I wish they had a restaurant on this side of security. There’s really no place to wait with you. Airport sendoffs aren’t what they used to be, are they?”
“I’ll be fine. It will be good practice for me to wa
it alone. With layovers in Chicago and LA, I’ll be grateful for fourteen uninterrupted hours aboard the flight to Brisbane.”
Jojo winces. “I love you to the moon, but if you decide to stay in Australia, I don’t think I could survive the flight. I need to be able to move around.”
It’s my turn to be horrified. “I’ll be home for New Year’s. You can count on it. Considering how squirmy you were on the hour-and-a-half ride to the airport, I wouldn’t put you through a twenty-six-hour journey. There’s your proof I’m coming home soon.”
“I’ll miss you, babe! But I’m also kind of jealous. You’re going on an adventure. Something is wrong here. Adventures are my thing.”
“From what little I know of my grandmother, perhaps the universe is wise to keep the two of you apart. I’ll miss you, too. I’ll text and FaceTime you so much, you’ll forget I’m half a world away.”
“You’d better!” She squeezes me ferociously. Glancing over her shoulder at my parents, who wait their turn, she lets go of me. “I love you, Hannah Banana!”
“I love you more, Jojo!”
My dad slides his wallet from his back pocket. “Here, take a dollar or two. You’ll have to shell out a small fortune for your meals over the next couple of days living in airports and aboard planes.” I peek at the two bills I’m slipping into the zippered pocket of my smaller bag. My stomach jumps. The two hundred-dollar bills belong in a much safer place.
“Thanks, Dad! I wish you could come with me. And I don’t mean I wish you were going instead of me. I’m going to be taking care of your mother. I’m sure the two of you would love to have a month together. And I’ll be living in your homeland.”
“I only lived in Melbourne, so Noosa would be as strange to me as it will be for you. Now give us a hug!”
My mother caresses my hair while my father smothers me in his arms. I pull away from him, rubbing my ribs. “Well, Mom, I guess there’s a silver lining to me leaving before you decorate the tree. You won’t have to wait in the den while I string the lights. You’re free to throw them around it willy-nilly. I won’t circle the tree with my tape measure to ensure perfect light coverage.”
“The tree won’t be the same without your touch. And I promise we’ll each save one present so after you come home, we can celebrate Christmas together. But also, I might have tucked a little gift into your luggage when you weren’t looking.”
I’m tempted to make a crack about how I won’t be able to tell the truth when security asks me whether I’ve packed my own bags, but I’m starting to feel a little emotional. I dab the corner of my eye, and my mother does the same. “I’m not crying, Mom. You’re crying.”
She leaps toward me, throwing her arms around my shoulders. “You’re doing a wonderful thing. Family is everything. Maybe you won’t be with the family you grew up with, but you’ll have a wonderful opportunity to bond with your other grandmother. And we’ll always be just a phone call away.”
Jojo’s head swivels between the outside door and me at regular intervals.
“What’s with you? Are you expecting Santa to—” I follow her eyes to a point behind me only to whip my head forward. “What did you do?”
She bites her lip. “I may have invited a certain someone to take a bus down here. Walker clan, let’s skedaddle while Hannah says her final goodbye.”
My parents each hug me a last time before changing places with Brett. I train my eyes on their departure, avoiding looking at my boyfriend.
“Glad I caught you before you cleared security.” He reaches for my hand, and I begrudgingly take his. “I’m sorry I sprang the news about the apartment on you.”
“I thought we had an understanding. We both need to find apartments, which we’ve discussed, and I mentioned it would be cheaper to have a roommate. I thought you knew what I meant.”
“I’m dense. You have to spell things out for me. I didn’t know you wanted to move in together.”
“But you don’t want to.”
“You’re twisting my words. Right now, I’m getting settled into my new job managing the bank. We can discuss it again in the future.”
“You promise?” I clutch his hand tighter.
He sweeps the hair from my eyes. With an inhale, he leans forward, and his lips find mine. Oh, yes. His promise is real.
“I have to catch up with your parents before they forget they’re driving me home. Text me the second you arrive?”
“I will. Thanks for coming to see me off. I love you.” I embrace him with a sigh.
“I love you, too. Be good, you hear?” He kisses my forehead.
His tone is soft, and his brown eyes melt when I gaze into them. If planning my Australia trip hadn’t swallowed every second of the last two days, we could have reconciled Thursday’s disappointments with how he truly feels about me.
My stomach lurches. What if we had discussed the apartment and our plans for living together in the future before my aunt called? I would have had every reason to insist I not make the trip. Now I’ll be stuck on the other side of the world from Brett for at least four weeks because I volunteered to go. Will being apart draw us closer? Or am I making the biggest mistake of my life?
❅ ❅ ❅
The English language needs a better word than exhausted to describe my current state, which is a combination of exhausted, hot, unhygienic, hungry, yet repulsed by food. I'd invent the word myself, but I drift into the netherworld while stringing together the syllables stinkhothaust… When and where am I again?
Oh, yeah. Waiting in line at the car rental kiosk at the airport in Brisbane early on Sunday afternoon, sucking down an ice coffee like it's the elixir of life. I'm sure the agent will take one look at my sagging eyelids and refuse to rent me a car.
The line is long enough that my beverage—where am I that an iced coffee is what I crave three days after Thanksgiving?—might have a chance to work its magic on me before I reach the counter. The wait gives me time to send texts to my parents, Brett, and Jojo.
I might as well give the rehab center near my grandmother's home a head's up that I'll be arriving to take her home in a couple of hours.
“Hi, this is Hannah Walker from the States.” I revive myself with my reassuring, yet important-sounding introduction. “I’ll be there for Mrs. Walker in two hours. Will she be ready to be discharged?”
A man with an accent even twangier than my father's says, “Mrs. Walker checked herself out a couple of hours ago. Have a good day.”
She did what?
Oh, this doesn't bode well. Perhaps Aunt Sharon wasn't kidding about my grandmother no longer being mentally capable of taking care of herself. Grandma has no business making decisions regarding her recuperation when her impulses stand in direct opposition to the advice of the medical staff in Indonesia. I jot a quick note in a notebook. I'll call my father with an update once I find his mother.
I take my turn at the counter, doing my best impersonation of an awake person who is not at all intimidated by the prospect of driving on the wrong side of the road. I hope the Post-it sign I made of an eye and a red arrow pointing left to stick on the dash will remind me to stay in the correct lane.
I program the car's GPS for an address on the outskirts of Noosa in an area my dad calls the hinterland. The scenery near the airport isn't that different from any other city, but once I head north, open spaces filled with picturesque rivers and gum trees replace the buildings. I even pass a few sugarcane fields and pine forests.
Time loses its meaning, but I finally arrive at the foot of my grandmother's steep and winding driveway. Pointing my car up the hill, I give the dashboard an encouraging pat. “You and I are seconds away from the lovely rest we both deserve. Let's go!”
I feed the car extra gas. She strains forward with a wheeze only to retreat. I pound on the brake pedal. Looking behind me, I determine I have a few feet of clearance before I back into the street. I reverse to the end of the driveway, fill my lungs, say a prayer, and gun the accelerator.
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The car complains, but she's no match for my determination to fling myself into the bed in my grandmother's spare room. Cresting the hill, I note several houses on either side of the driveway plus what I assume is the animal shelter where my grandmother volunteers. Dad mentioned that Grandma's house is on the far side of the shelter and has a garden arch in front covered in pink bougainvillea. I drive a bit farther before I spot it, steering the car under the carport and relieved to stop.
I leave my luggage in the car and venture to the front door, swatting a flying insect headed straight for my face. A note stuck to the door with masking tape flutters in the breeze.
Hannah, the door's open. Make yourself at home. I'll see you soon. —Grandma
I am way too tired to deal with alerting anyone about having lost my grandmother on day one. Once inside, I poke my head into the two bedrooms, determining the smaller bedroom to be mine. Since it's too hot to wear the flannel pj’s with snowflakes still sitting in my luggage in the rental car, I discard every piece of clothing save for my underwear and climb under the covers.
CHAPTER 4
I’m woken by a crashing sound, and I almost fall out of bed in fright. It takes a moment for me to realize where I am. Ah. Australia. My grandmother’s place.
I peer out the window and see that it’s pitch-black outside. A quick glance at the bedside clock tells me it’s almost two in the morning. What was that noise? Is someone trying to break into the house? I have no idea how safe it is in this part of the world. I mean, they don’t have as many guns as the US (as far as I’m aware), but that doesn’t mean the country isn’t full of knife-wielding psychopaths.
A Christmas Rescue Page 2
