Page 16 of The Side Road
Oliver got to his feet. Standing at the window, he drew the tatty curtain. Outside, parked directly in front of the house, was a BMW with a sidecar. Standing beside the bike, wearing white jeans with a short red top, was a woman. Her top, covered in daisies, had thin shoulder straps and a long fringe that finished at the waistband of her jeans. The woman’s sandy hair was loose, falling over her bare shoulders. When she opened the door of the sidecar, a black Labrador jumped inside.
With some surprise, he realised the rider was Mia. Leo’s favourite niece. The bringer of gin and impromptu cocktail maker. A woman who wore boots and skorts. A woman who sighed under the moonlight and owned an accommodating black dog.
She noticed him at the window, so he raised his hand.
Her eyes travelled down his body. She recoiled in shock. The look she gave him was pure contempt. Naked, except for his boxer briefs, he still had a hard-on.
He yanked the curtain across the window, but the force caused the rail to slip off the bracket. Everything collapsed, covering Oliver in dust and pieces of tatty curtain.
From outside the window, Mia shook her head. She slipped on a leather jacket, pulled on her helmet, and jumped on the bike. He watched as the bike rolled down the street.
Mia rode a BMW, and her dog sat in the sidecar. It was the cutest thing he had ever seen. To his surprise, it had been a long, sleepless night, but he found himself smiling. Heshook the dust from his hair and made a mental note to fix the curtain rail. His to-do list of household tasks was growing. Tash emerged from the shower, semi-clothed, dripping wet, wearing a singlet and her underpants.
‘Are you showering in your underwear?’ he asked.
‘I look like a bug.’ She wrapped a towel around herself, sniffed and scurried, dripping wet, into her bedroom.
After jumping in the shower, Oliver threw on a T-shirt and a pair of jeans and headed into the kitchen.
Tash’s hair was still damp. Combing it straight, she pulled it behind her ears. With placemats, napkins, and a full range of condiments, including sauces and mustards, she prepared the table for two.
Oliver checked the fridge. Overnight, more food hadn’t found its way into the refrigerator.
‘Toast,’ he suggested.
‘On the weekend, Nan and I enjoyed a full breakfast.’ Tash shuffled in her chair, adjusting her knife and fork.
Oliver hadn’t prepared a proper meal in years. Cattle stations employed cooks. Before that, a hot breakfast was something a cafe provided. Cold food, he had mastered. Interesting sandwiches and wraps were his speciality. Creating a simple salad was not a problem. He could put together an antipasto platter. After a few early culinary disasters, including a curry that smoked and a pepper steak that caught fire, he knew to stay within his lane.
Eggs on toast, he could manage. The only decision to make was the type: scrambled, poached, or hard-boiled. He couldn’t remember the last time he ate hard-boiled eggs – but they reminded him of his childhood. Elsie’s old kitchen felt nostalgic, so it would be hard-boiled.
He collected the eggs from the fridge. Found bread in thecupboard. After filling a pan with water, he set it on the stove. ‘Honey, can you handle the toast?’ he asked.
Tash shook her head. ‘Nan always did the toast. Two pieces, not too dark.’
He stared at her.
‘Please,’ she added.
Oliver let his request for help slide. Given his recent arrival, he was not going to insist. Changes would happen; it was inevitable. But this was their first day together, and he wouldn’t insist.
‘Do you know where my belongings are?’ he asked. ‘I left clothes and a few boxes in the back room. There was also a bed. My bed.’
‘You lost your bed?’
‘Someone took it. Interesting, isn’t it? I own this house, but nothing here belongs to me.’
‘I belong to you,’ Tash said.
He kissed the top of her head. Then he handed her the sampler. ‘I fixed your knitting.’
She smiled, impressed. ‘Did you YouTube it?’
‘I did.’
She held up the knitting. ‘Good job, Ollie.’
The water on the stove boiled. He submerged the eggs and wiped his hands on a towel. ‘I was thinking – and this is not definite, it’s just an idea – how would you feel about getting…a dog?’
