“Quit admiring your handiwork and come with me,” Xave says with a laugh.
Talk about admiring the handiwork. He is wearing a white button-down shirt instead of his usual choice of a T-shirt. I bet he washed it himself rather than sent it to a dry cleaner. Tiny creases give it a softness I’d miss if it were starched and pressed. It begs for someone to hug him to add a few more wrinkles to it. He’s left the top three buttons unbuttoned and has rolled up the sleeves, exposing his tanned, sinewy forearms. I avert my eyes before I get carried away with fantasies about his arms only to notice his jeans. He’s worn this pair before, and I still appreciate how they fit him.
I shake away my lustful thoughts. “Hopefully, you don’t need me for anything too strenuous. I’m feeling a little lightheaded. I’ve been in the sun most of the day, and I’ve barely eaten a thing.”
A server passes by with a tray of champagne flutes filled with a vibrant yellow-orange liquid. Xave grabs a glass and hands it to me. “The peach purée in here should give you a boost.”
I chug the glass. “Delicious. Was there alcohol in it?”
He holds his thumb and forefinger a centimeter apart. “Just a splash of Prosecco. Pick up a samosa from the food truck. It will counter the alcohol. And then I want to show you the animal pens. I decorated them in a burst of inspiration after seeing how you did my yard.”
His words caress me from head to toe. Impressing him with my efforts wasn’t exactly my motivation, but…
The silence in his yard kills my buzz. “Hold on a sec.” I check my phone. “It’s five-thirty. Shouldn’t the band be here by now?”
“That’s your grandmother’s department.”
“Do you mind if I visit the pens a little later? I’d like to sort out the music situation and conduct a final walkthrough before the guests arrive.”
“The pens will be here all night.”
I turn, speaking to him over my shoulder. “And so will I.” His gaze remains on me, but perhaps aimed a bit below my eyes. Lower than my shoulders, in fact. And his smile stretches from cheek to cheek.
I wave to my grandmother. “Grandma, when will the band arrive?”
She walks toward me. “What band?”
“The band you hired.”
“Did I hire a band? Maybe they’ve set up next door.”
I train my ears to the property next door. A thumping bass line bleeds into our space. “I think that’s the neighbors.” I pause. “Does this mean you didn’t invite a band to play for free?”
She knocks her head with a fist. “Now I remember. I thought live music was a good idea. I didn’t give you a phone number to arrange it?”
I purse my lips, sniffing sharply. “Nope.”
No sooner have I determined Aunt Sharon’s concerns about my grandmother are unfounded, now Grandma starts acting like a person who can’t handle responsibilities?
Grandma flips her wrist. “Oh, well. Can we hook a phone up to the blue teeth?”
“Bluetooth?” I crane my neck toward the music. Ooh! I have an idea. “I’ll be right back.”
I fly across Xavier’s property and into the junkyard next door. One of the men I had met earlier this month sucks on a cigar, seated on a beach chair positioned directly in front of a speaker. How is he not deaf?
“Um, excuse me?” I wave my hands in front of him.
He grins. “It’s Acca Dacca’s biggest American fan. Did you bring those beers you promised me?”
“I do have beer, but drinking them involves a favor.”
“Yes.”
“Yes, you’ll do it? I haven’t asked you yet.”
“No matter. You said you have beer.”
“Great. Bring your stereo next door, and I’ll have a pint waiting for you.”
“Make it several pints, and you have a deal.”
“Done. I’ll be on the lookout for you once you arrive to get you set up.”
I hustle back to Xave’s. Guests have begun to filter in, and most crowd the bar area. Maybe the plan from last year where volunteers donated more alcohol than food wasn’t a bad idea. But I love the casualness of the food trucks paired with elegant displays of cheese and vegetables. And the decorations. And the spirit of the attendees. Really, I love every step of putting together the fundraiser.
I help myself to another Bellini. Xave was right; the Prosecco from my first glass barely hit me. By pacing myself and remembering to eat, I can be the perfect hostess.
Taara brings a couple over to me. “Hannah, I’ve been looking for you. Let me introduce you to Mr. and Mrs. Williams, Xave’s parents.”
“It’s Sam and Linda.” His dad shakes my hand. “You’re the American Xave keeps talking about, aren’t you?”
He’s told his parents about me? “Yes, I am. It’s lovely to meet you. And thank you so much for coming to support him.”
His mom smiles. “I don’t know how he kept the shelter going before you took over his fundraising efforts. I hope you plan on continuing to help him.”
“Uh, my visit is temporary. But I can manage his social media accounts from home, if he wants.” Taara hands me another Bellini, replacing the one I’ve just drained. “Please excuse me. I’d love to continue chatting with you once I’ve assisted our DJ.”
I shouldn’t drink a third glass, but I’m still winded and overheated from running between Xave’s property and his neighbors’. I gulp it before helping Mack find a power source for the stereo and bringing him his first pint of beer. With the music sorted, I wander across the patio, reveling in having put together an event of this scale. It’s a total success!
An hour passes before I run into Xave again. The sun has set, and the patio glows from the candles and fairy lights. My heart races when his eyes find mine. No. My heart races because I haven’t had a chance to relax today. I should sit and eat something.
He offers me yet another Bellini. I’m so thirsty, I take it despite doubts I should drink more alcohol. “Thanks. This is an absolutely magical night.”
“What was that?”
I step closer to him. Warmth pulses from his chest, and the scent of his soap wafts into my nose. “Sorry. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised your neighbor is cranking the tunes at an exec…exel…uh, expensive volume. I said it’s a magical night.”
“You’re slurring a little. Do you want some water?”
“I’m not drunk. I’m just a bit exhausted. And warm.”
His forehead creases with worry. “Let’s get you into a chair.”
“No, really, I’m fine.” I wobble a bit, landing against his side. Mmm. This feels so good!
He wraps his arm around my shoulder, but instead of drawing me closer, he rights me and lets go when I can hold my balance again.
“You sure you don’t want to sit down?”
“Positive. Congratulations on raising all the money!”
“Perhaps not all the money, but more than we ever have. You’re the one who deserves the congratulations.”
“We’ll win more in the ruffle.”
His eyes narrow. “Are you OK?”
“I’m fine. I’m happy!” I spin around, throwing my arms in the air, not unlike the move my grandmother executes one-handed in the center of the patio.
He gives me that dazzling smile of his. “You deserve to be happy.”
“I deserve you. Make me happy, Xave.”
He looks at me quizzically. “I didn’t understand a word you said. You need to sit and drink a glass of water.”
I reach for him, ready to throw myself into his arms to make my point perfectly clear. And then the world goes black.
CHAPTER 26
So much for never drinking again. What was I thinking? How did I end up like this?
I’m in bed, although as I peel my eyes open, I realize it’s not mine. What on earth? I have no idea who this one belongs to, but I’m alone.
The sheets are white and soft, and the sun is streaming into the room.
There’s a bedside table a
few inches from my face, and the small clock on it tells me it’s ten forty-five. I’m guessing by the fact that the sun went down around seven that this particular ten forty-five is the next morning.
Holy cow. How did I manage to miss half the fundraiser and sleep away the morning?
Those Bellinis. So sneaky with their peach juice and their delicious fizziness.
I sit up and wait for the resulting wave of pain and nausea.
Huh. It’s not too bad. I mean, it’s not great, but I expected worse. Especially since my memory of last night is almost non-existent after helping Mack set up the music.
I climb out of bed and wander into a strange living room. But after a peek out the window, I deduce I’m in Xave’s house. I can see Grandma’s place next door and the remains of last night’s celebration out the front.
Where’s Xave? I hope I didn’t… Damn it. Why can’t I remember anything?
I locate the kitchen, vaguely noting the tasteful stone countertops and mint-green feature tiles on the walls. There’s a note on the counter.
Morning! I thought I’d let you sleep in. I’m just feeding the animals. Feel free to take a bath or shower before you head home. Towels are in the hall cupboard.
Grandma’s house is literally a two-minute walk away, but I’m not sure I’m prepared to face anyone yet. Especially not my grandmother. A bath might make me feel slightly more human.
After grabbing a towel from the cupboard, I search for Xave’s bathroom, belatedly remembering that his bath and shower are outdoors. I tiptoe along the path outside his house to the back, where I find a small area, fenced to waist height, with the bath and shower behind it.
Feeling a little self-conscious, I remove my clothes and step into the tub, running the cold water with just a dash of hot to make it comfortable. Ah. This is perfect. And feeling like you’re right amongst the trees is something I’ve never experienced.
There’s a small bottle of lemongrass bath wash on a nearby ledge, so I tip a little into the water and watch the bubbles form around me. I think perhaps yesterday’s combination of sun and lack of food amplified the effects of the alcohol. But I must have drunk some water and eaten something before going to sleep, otherwise I wouldn’t be feeling this normal right now.
I hear someone whistling as they approach the house. My towel is too far away for me to hide behind, so I sink down into the bubbles, praying whoever it is doesn’t come around the back.
No such luck. Xave’s face appears above the fence, and he starts when he sees me.
“Oh, sorry. I didn’t realize you were up.” He quickly takes a few steps back so he’s out of view.
“I thought I would take advantage of your offer to use your tub. I’m not in a hurry to see my grandmother today.”
He chuckles. “She wouldn’t judge you, but I understand. How are you feeling?”
“Completely embarrassed.”
“Don’t be. You were fine.”
I don’t have the memories to prove it, but I doubt I was anywhere close to fine.
“Why don’t you finish up in the bath and come inside? I’ll make you some coffee.”
“OK. Thanks.”
I take my time soaping my arms and legs. I’m not sure I’m prepared to see even Xave. I have a vague recollection of saying something totally inappropriate at the fundraiser last night. What must he think of me?
After drying off, I have the choice of staying in a towel or putting last night’s outfit back on. Last night’s outfit wins, even though it smells of stale alcohol.
Xave has a mug waiting for me on the coffee table in the living room. I gratefully pick it up and sit on the couch.
“So, I guess I should start by thanking you for letting me sleep in your bed.”
He waves a hand dismissively. “Don’t mention it. It was easier to let you rest here than drag you back across to Sheila’s house. And just in case you’re wondering, I slept on the couch.”
“Oh. I’m so sorry. I would never want to put you out of your bed…”
“Really, it was fine. I didn’t go to sleep until almost two anyway. Heaps of people stayed on, and we had a bit of a dance party.”
“I can’t believe I missed it. I ruined everything!”
“What? No, you didn’t! You were amazing. There was nothing left for you to do once everyone arrived. Taara oversaw the raffle, and everyone else was happy to just enjoy what you created. It was a huge improvement from last year. I think we quadrupled the amount of money raised.”
I look at the floor. “Did I say anything about…us?”
He clears his throat. “Uh, yeah. And look, I understand it was probably just the alcohol talking, and you have a boyfriend at home, so I didn’t take it seriously. Please. Don’t worry about that.”
A wave of disappointment washes over me, although I don’t know what I was hoping for. Xave’s reaction is perfectly rational and more understanding than I probably deserve. I haven’t officially ended things with Brett, and I wouldn’t have said anything if I hadn’t been drinking.
And I guess any feelings I do have for Xave right now are irrelevant. I’ll be flying home soon, while he’ll continue working here and living his perfect life in Australia.
I hear my phone ringing somewhere nearby.
Xave points to the hall table. “I brought it in last night.”
“Do you mind if I see who it is?”
“Of course not. Go.”
I hurry over and read the name on the screen.
Brett.
He sure knows how to pick his timing. I stab the answer key. “What?”
Xave discretely disappears into another room. I figure I probably shouldn’t participate in a yelling match inside his house, so I go outside and walk toward a quiet corner of the garden.
“I totally deserve that,” Brett starts.
“You deserve a lot worse.”
“I do. I told you I wouldn’t see Gemma again, but I did. Except it isn’t what you think.”
“Um, considering it took you this long to get back to me, I’d say it’s exactly what I think.”
“What have you heard? I’m guessing you’re still out of the country, so you didn’t see anything firsthand.”
My eyebrows almost disappear into my hairline. “You want me to tell you what you did so you can twist it all around and worm your way out of a breakup again? I don’t think so. The only reason I haven’t already dumped your ass is because I had this stupid notion in my head that I had to be the bigger person and actually speak to you, but now I know I shouldn’t have bothered. I wish I had done it via text the second I found out you cheated on me AGAIN!”
“Please, Hannah, just hear me out…”
“Brett, stop making excuses. I deserve better. Your promises that things will be better won’t keep this relationship alive, either. I’m through listening to them. To you. So, goodbye.”
“No, wait…”
I hang up and let out a puff of air. I thought I would be relieved, but I just feel crappy. That’s a part of my life at home permanently severed.
Men! I think I need a break from all of them. They’re either cheaters or too decent for their own good.
I don’t have the energy to face Xave again right now, so I creep back over to Grandma’s and sneak into the house. Thankfully, she’s nowhere to be found. I change into some fresh clothes and lie down on the bed. There are five days until Christmas, and I would normally be buying last-minute gifts for my family and preparing for a bunch of cozy get-togethers with my parents and extended family.
Instead, I’m stuck here on the other side of the world, single, embarrassed by my behavior, and behind on my paid job.
I’m not so sure it will be a very merry Christmas this year.
CHAPTER 27
I’ve screwed up so many things over the last two days, I had to invent new ways to embarrass and sabotage myself. I mean, who decides it’s a good idea to take a bath in a barely concealed tub on the property of the man w
ho rebuffed her (ill-conceived) flirtations?
The fact that I only translated a measly six pages yesterday certainly doesn’t help matters. But what sticks in my craw more than anything is the apparently lame job I did breaking up with Brett. He has engaged me in a game of Bad Boyfriend Whack-a-Mole ever since. A slew of texts here, a phone message there, photographic evidence of how uninvolved he is with this Gemma chick lurking in my message app. I don’t give a flying fig that you took her along on a Christmas outing in downtown Frankenmuth with your friends and didn’t stand next to each other for the group photo, Brett.
It’s seven in the morning on Monday, and I need to turn in my entire translation at five today. I have ten hours to do eleven hours of work. So yeah, I have run out of ways to mess up my life. But I won’t get anything done until I explain to Brett exactly why we will never be a couple again. I type an email while I eat breakfast.
If I were the old, super-organized Hannah, I’d explain myself in chronological order, going back to before I came here to Australia. But everything from my old life and the new has blended together, and the events of the last two or three days are clearest in my mind, so that’s where I’ll begin. I still have a lot to learn about myself, but the lessons are sinking in, and I think you need context to understand who I am or am not and what that means for you.
One glaring lesson is in Michigan, I didn’t live a life dedicated to being good. I’ve stepped into a world where people give of themselves freely, not just in the service of honesty but in order to make the world better. I live next door to one such shining example, a person whose devotion to caring for animals is a way of life. I can’t help but be swept away by such an outpouring of generosity.
I still dream of my gingerbread cottage and building snowmen in the front yard. That will never change. The best way I know to express what family means to me is to picture myself with my family at Christmastime, watching the gently falling snow outside while snuggling inside in the warmth of our home.
A Christmas Rescue Page 14
