So, what do my ramblings have to do with you? I realize now I tied our breakup entirely to the Gemma situation. You were right to say I can’t know the truth because I didn’t witness anything between the two of you. But you lied to me—twice!—which should be reason enough to end things with you. It’s not.
My awakening, as far as it concerns you, began on Thanksgiving. You let me down when you canceled on me on such short notice. Then I realized what different plans we had for your apartment hunt. Maybe what mattered more was how neither of us brought up the subject of our future before you found somewhere to live.
We have a history. And it includes many happy memories. But my guess is we have confused familiarity with love. Being your girlfriend did not impact me profoundly. At best, dating you was a Lego piece that fit into the dream world I had constructed. I can’t predict my future, but I’ve learned I will need to be a better person to make my dreams come true. And only then will I be ready to tie my life to a man who has reached the same point in his life. I now understand without question that man is not and will never be you.
So this is goodbye. I wish you well. But I also wish to have nothing to do with you from now on.
Hannah
I don’t have time to proof what I’ve written. It may be an indecipherable, stream-of-conscious mess, but I’m confident I’ve managed to deal a fatal whack to the mole. I hit send and gird up to embrace the challenge I have in front of me.
What I need is an assistant who speaks German. My mother’s parents would be perfect, except their schedule for the rest of the evening cannot deviate from cocktails, dinner, TV, and bedtime at nine. Besides, I’d hate for my parents to discover I was in serious trouble of failing at my job.
A truly desperate idea pops into my head: no one needs to speak German to create a rudimentary translation. Anyone could plug text into Google translate, which would at least give me something to edit. While I loathe having to face anyone after Saturday’s humiliation, I’d much rather spend a few hours with Taara than with my grandmother. Or worse: Xavier. I send her an SOS text.
I am onto my second page of the day when Taara lets herself into the house via the patio door. “I have been dying to determine whether your job is as boring as you say it is. My laptop and I are ready for whatever you throw at us.”
“You are a lifesaver!” With a whoosh, two pages of text leave my mail app, bound for hers.
“Got it. Wait, what?” She leans back, contorting her face while a squelched laugh resonates in her throat. “This is not at all boring. The first sentence has the words lube, shaft, and lip in it. Tell me the truth: do you translate car manuals or porn?”
I hold my hands primly to my chest. “I don’t know what you mean. They told me I was translating an automatic driving system manual. Since I am clueless about both cars and sex, how can I tell which is which?” I can’t keep a straight face any longer. I double over, covering my mouth. Regaining my composure, I say, “So, rule number one: we can’t talk. You have the easy task of copying and pasting, but I have to come up with the German words for what I’m reading in my head. I’ll need to take a break soon, so it won’t be all work and no play.”
She doesn’t seem to be paying attention to me and is staring at something on the shelf beside us. I follow her gaze and roll my eyes. It’s the Advent calendar, and of course, my grandmother decided to find it in my bedroom and put it out on display for everyone to see.
“What is that?” she asks, going over and studying the packaging.
“A chocolate penis Advent calendar.”
Taara cackles. “I love it. Where did you get it? I want to buy them for my friends next year.”
“I have no idea. It was from my mother. And before you ask, no, I don’t think she knew what it was when she gave it to me.”
“You haven’t opened half the days,” she observes.
“I only opened one of them, so Grandma must have eaten the rest.” I am beyond being surprised by that woman.
“And here I thought today was going to be dull,” she says, eyes twinkling.
“Yes, well, we probably should get to it. Thanks again for coming over.”
For the first time in days, my focus locks onto my project. I should have broken up with Brett by email the second Jojo told me she caught him again. Oh, well. The words flow now, and I reach my first goal in a little over an hour.
“How far have you gotten?” I ask Taara at ten.
“Half a page.”
“Awesome! I have seven and a half to go and, hmm, seven hours until my deadline. I’m not out of the woods yet, but if you can survive doing even another page and a half, you’ll make my job much easier. I will owe you a huge favor in return.”
“Let’s start with some gossip. You looked hot on Saturday! Did you pick your outfit to impress Xave?”
My cheeks grow warm. “No. I had another outfit… Forget it. I got dressed in a hurry.”
“It seems impossible you didn’t manage to get him in the sack.” She tilts her head. “Or did you?”
I bite my lip. “From what I understand, I didn’t have the power to put myself to bed. I woke up in his bed—alone. Don’t give me that look. And nothing he said or did when I woke up gave me the slightest impression he thought putting me to bed was the least bit sexy.”
“I believe you. I saw the two of you together. You were flirting hard, but he stood there stiff as a wooden soldier. I would have thought he was into you. I guess not. And trust me: I am as familiar with this side of Xavier as I am with my own brother. When Xave goes platonic with a woman, that is it.”
My heart screeches to a stop. I sit on my hands to keep them from shaking. “Oh, right. You guys kissed once, didn’t you?”
“I’m the one who dared him to kiss me. He went along with it, but…gross. It was weird being with him afterwards; embarrassing, really, but I got over it when the next cute guy came along.”
I cough. “I need a glass of water. Do you want one?” I turn my back so she can’t read my expression. She has described my situation to a T. I’m stuck living next door to Xavier until my grandmother doesn’t need me anymore. And that day can’t come soon enough.
The only escape from thinking about Xave is to lose myself in work. I barely notice when Taara leaves at lunch. I assume her translations will need tweaking, which will eat up nearly half the time I had gained with her help. Which reminds me, I have not proofed any of the pages I have translated. The clock creeps closer and closer to five. I am so screwed!
CHAPTER 28
With time running out, I open the document Taara did for me and read, praying that it’s passable.
My heart sinks. Oh, no.
Pack the V-boot with plenty of lube so it makes the sector shaft feel good when it contacts the lips.
I read on. So much of Taara’s translation conveys the exact sexual meaning she was laughing about earlier. If I were to send her content through as part of the manual, I would be fired before I even got on the plane back to Michigan. It’s not her fault, though. I should have known a computer couldn’t do my job—and even though the work is monotonous, I’m kind of glad that my career is not yet obsolete.
But that only makes my deadline even more impossible to meet. I have to finish my pages, race through Taara’s, and then hope for the best.
Except now I can’t concentrate, and I keep making silly mistakes. I am normally good under pressure, but not today. I jump up and head to the kitchen to make myself a strong coffee. Maybe the caffeine will help speed up my brain, and in turn, my fingers.
I impatiently wait for the kettle to boil, watching the second hand move around the clock on the wall. It is going much too fast for my liking. The moment the water is ready, I dump it into a mug with some instant coffee. I don’t bother with milk and take it back to the computer, gulping the scalding liquid on the way.
My fingers fly over the keys, and I work faster than I’ve ever worked in my life.
But as the tim
e reaches four fifty-five, a sense of dread settles over me. I’m not going to make it.
At that moment, Grandma comes to check on me.
“Are you OK, honey?”
“Nope.” There’s no use sugarcoating it. I am definitely screwed.
“Does this have anything to do with your work deadline?”
I nod. “The entire thing is due in exactly three minutes, and I’m nowhere near done.”
She frowns. “Your work is due at two in the morning Michigan time? That seems like a rather obscure cut-off point.”
My heart stops. Oh my God. She’s right.
I jump up and kiss her on the cheek, laughing. “No! It’s due at five in the afternoon Michigan time! Which means I still have fifteen hours! I’m actually going to make it!”
Grandma chuckles. “I’m glad to hear it. Sounds like you have time for us to discuss something.”
I can’t explain why, but the tone of her voice sends my adrenal glands into overdrive. “Um, sure. What’s on your mind?”
“Before you came home that evening when I lent you my coral necklace, I saw something on your laptop I’m sure you never meant for me to see.”
Oh, no. The jitters in my stomach and my sweaty palms were right. If she saw my chart for ‘Operation Observe Sheila’ on the screen, I had better start packing to go home. But what business does she have to snoop? “Grandma, I need you to respect my privacy.”
“Yes, well, that’s the least important thing at the moment, isn’t it? When were you planning to tell me you were shipping me off to Melbourne?”
This is the perfect time for her to bring up Aunt Sharon’s terrible plan? “I am not planning to send you anywhere. It was your daughter’s idea. I’m only the messenger. And I have come to the conclusion that she is entirely wrong to think you don’t belong here. Would it be OK if we discussed this after I’ve finished my work?”
She looks as if she’s going to protest, but then sighs. “You’re right. It will keep. Can I get you a snack? Or help you in any way?”
“Trust me: you’ve helped me plenty. I’ll never be able to repay you.”
“I wouldn’t go that far. But if you want to make it up to me, start by taking me to my next physio appointment tomorrow.”
“Of course. I’ll have all day free since I’ll have submitted my project.”
“Lovely. Maybe we can even go out for a coffee afterwards.”
“Anything you like.”
Grandma leaves me to my work, and I face the computer again with renewed vigor. I am never slacking off ever again. Or spying on a relative.
❅ ❅ ❅
I send off my files at the equivalent of seven in the morning Michigan time. My boss won’t even be at the office yet.
After that, I crash into bed and sleep like a baby. My job is done, and Brett is well and truly out of my life. Other than avoiding Xave, everything else is pretty stable right now. Christmas is almost here, and then I’ll be counting the days until my return home. Not that I actually know what that number will be, but it can’t be very high.
I’m all showered and ready to take Grandma to her appointment on Tuesday morning. She’s quiet as we drive into town, which is unlike her.
“How are you feeling?” I ask.
“Oh, not bad.” I see her wince as she adjusts her sling.
“Have you been shirking your rehabilitation duties again?” I tease.
“No. Maybe. I mean, I’ve still been active. I even fed all the cats this morning.”
“How did you manage that? I hope you weren’t trying to do too much with that arm. The wrong kind of moves could make it worse.”
“You worry too much. I’m fine.”
“Are you sure? You don’t look fine.”
“Well, we’ll just have to wait and see what the physio says, won’t we?”
“I suppose we will.”
I park in the same place as the first time I brought Grandma here. After watching her go inside, I wander around Noosa Junction, marveling at how familiar everything feels now. I’ve only been here for three and a half weeks, but it’s starting to almost feel as much like home as Michigan.
I have to admit that staying on here has occurred to me once or twice. But now I’m wondering if it’s only because I’m afraid that if I see Brett again, I’ll be sucked back into his web. And with Mom and Dad leaving to travel in the new year, I won’t have them around to keep me company at the house. Being there on my own would be kind of sad and lonely. And sure, I have Jojo, but we’ve already proven that our relationship can be sustained over the long term, even when we’re not in the same location. Besides, while she claims to be incapable of traveling large distances, I know she’d jump at the chance to visit Australia if I asked her.
Then there’s my job. I’m not sure the relief I felt after sending off my project was purely down to meeting the deadline. My boss won’t be sending me another task until after New Year’s Eve, and having ten days off from translating makes me more ecstatic than it normally would.
But of course, staying here means I’ll be living next door to Xave, and my feelings toward him are a little complicated right now. I haven’t wanted to admit it, but I like him a lot. The idea of him possibly becoming interested in another woman and me seeing them together makes me ill.
But it’s obvious from both the fundraiser and what Taara said that he does not consider me a romantic prospect. And why would he be interested in someone who acted completely unprofessionally at an event representing his brand? I know he said it was fine, but I wouldn’t easily forgive someone who was drunk and sloppy at a function that was important to me.
Also, how could he be interested in me when my life is in such a state of disarray? He deserves better.
I walk back to the car and sit on a nearby bench to wait for Grandma. When she finally appears, her expression is serious. This worries me, as I’ve never seen her anything but cheery.
“What happened?” I ask.
She nods at the car. “We’ll talk while you drive.”
That sounds ominous. “I take it that means you’re not in the mood to go anywhere other than home?”
“If it’s OK with you, I’ll take a raincheck.”
“Sure.” I help her into the passenger side.
My grandmother obviously needs some time to gather her thoughts, so I don’t hurry her. It’s not until we’re almost ten minutes in that she speaks.
“My shoulder isn’t healing as well as it should.”
“I kind of figured. Did the therapist give you a hard time about not doing your exercises?”
“Yes, but that doesn’t bother me. I suppose I’d hoped I’d still be on track, regardless.”
“So, what did they say?”
“I’m probably not going to be back to full functionality until at least February.”
“February?” Yikes.
“I know, I know. Of course, I don’t expect you to hang around that long. I might still need someone to help with a few tasks, but that doesn’t mean I need you to babysit me.” She clips her words and doesn’t look at me while she speaks.
I deserve her anger at my betrayal. But my body tenses, ready to fight. “I didn’t come here to babysit you, Grandma.”
Her tone softens. “I know this was your aunt’s doing. I don’t blame you. Honestly, I’m grateful to have had you here this month, and it has been a delight getting to know you better.” She purses her lips. “You don’t think I need to move back to Melbourne, do you?”
“No, I don’t. You belong here in Noosa, living your life the way you want to live it. I’m so glad I had the chance to get to know you. It has been one of the loveliest experiences of my life. I promise I’ll tell my father to leave you alone. But if you need me to stay…”
She swats the air with her left hand. “No need. I’ll just have to tell Xave to find another volunteer to help him at the shelter, and I’ll get a nurse to come out and check on me once or twice a week. The physio has g
iven me the phone number of a government department I can call to arrange it. And because of my age, I qualify for all kinds of subsidized support at home. There’s even a service where someone will come and vacuum my floors and clean my windows.”
“Oh. Right.” The idea of strangers taking over my grandmother’s home doesn’t sit well with me. And while she’s a friendly woman who will talk to anyone, I suspect she won’t appreciate it either.
“Have you got a return flight booked?” she asks.
“No, Dad and I agreed to leave the trip open-ended. I originally assumed I’d be home around New Year’s Eve, but nothing’s been decided yet.”
“Well, when you talk to him next, let him know I’ll make arrangements for someone else to assist me until I’m back to normal. It’s time you returned to your life in the States.”
Is it?
“Don’t you worry about anything. We’ll figure something out.”
Although, exactly what that something is remains to be seen.
What do I want? And what would be the best thing for my grandmother?
CHAPTER 29
I can’t believe today is Christmas Eve. It certainly doesn’t feel like it. I imagine life at home. My parents’ house would be a whirlwind of activity, presents would spill out from under our tree, and Christmas would infuse every scent, sight, and activity. I close my eyes, smiling at the memory.
Save for a handful of presents stacked next to my grandmother’s four-foot-high tree covered in artificial flowers instead of ornaments and lights, today could be any other day. Just not a good one.
Ever since Gus woke me on my first morning in Noosa, I’ve never stopped moving. I arrived with a short to-do list: care for my grandmother and translate the manual. Oh, and be my aunt’s spy. Once my list of responsibilities grew to include volunteering at the shelter and planning the fundraiser, I was too busy to give serious thought to a few nagging issues I discovered while I was here.
Now that I’ve turned in my translation, the fundraiser has ended, and I’m taking a break from the shelter, I’m stumped trying to find ways to keep myself occupied. I’m desperate for a distraction to keep me from sorting through my questions and dealing with the uneasiness of my current situation.
A Christmas Rescue Page 15
