Page 57 of The Side Road
At the sound of the front door closing, she covered her face with her hands. ‘I’m an idiot. A fucking idiot. Why? Why do I do the things I do? Why can’t I be normal and just fucking relax?’
She couldn’t stop the tears, but it was a brief snivel, and she recovered quickly. The bottle of wine was almost empty; she upended the dregs into her glass. The window seat beckoned, and she sat down. The cleaning up could wait.
Resting her elbow on the windowsill, she cradled her head in her hand. ‘Why does it bring out the worst in me? And why doesn’t it get any easier?’
In the corner of the room, a fly buzzed – she had left the back door open. If she didn’t get up and close it, more flies would follow. She didn’t move. Instead, she thought about the lunch. The long silences. The stop-start conversation. His kind efforts to engage her and her disastrous attempts at deflection. He had worn the shirt she liked and remembered Holly’s name. The flowers were lovely.
‘At least he knows I’m not interested,’ she told Snood. ‘It wasn’t a total loss. Although now he thinks I’m a nutcase.’
Listening to the fly buzzing, she closed her eyes and blocked out the world. Lethargy was the remedy for the pain in her chest. She finished her wine. Time passed.
A knock on the front door. A delivery? Probably books or hair products that she had ordered online. She didn’t get up. There were instructions to leave packages on the front veranda. They would go away, eventually.
When she turned her head, her eyes fell on Oliver, standing in the back door.
Startled, she almost fell off the seat.
‘Hello,’ he said, offering a casual smile. With his hands buried in his pockets, he appeared nonchalant.
She stood up. ‘Did you come back for something?’ She glanced around the room, wondering what he might have left behind.
‘Are you okay?’ The way he looked at her, smiling with his forehead furrowed. ‘Can I come in?’
She moved aside. He walked into the kitchen.
‘It feels like I did something wrong,’ he said. ‘I’m not sure what that was.’
She wrung her hands. ‘Oliver, you seem nice. I like you. But I have this organised life that’s going amazingly well. House, business, dog. It’s all marvellous.’
He nodded. Like Snood, he was a good listener.
‘I came to Eagle Nest to escape my past. I wanted to move to a small country town, curl into a ball, and throw a rug over myself. My goal in life was to feel safe. It worked. But it’s taken a lot of knitting for me to feel this good about myself. My wardrobe is filled with jumpers and cardigans. Three drawers of socks. Now you’re here, rattling the doors of my safe space. I honestly don’t know what to do about my feelings for you.’ She paused. ‘I think I just overshared.’
‘Never.’
She took a breath. ‘The truth is, I’ve been let down before. More than once. It’s an embarrassing thing to admit, but I might be suspicious of your gender.’ Tears welled in her eyes. Embarrassed, she brushed them away. ‘I do like you. But I’m a terrible chooser, so I can’t trust my judgement.’ A pained expression followed this statement.
‘Lucky for you, I’m an excellent chooser. Come here,’ he said.
‘Why?’
‘You might need a hug.’
He took her hand and pulled her closer. She didn’t resist, and he wrapped his arms around her. She snuggled into his chest, sighed, and breathed in the eucalyptus scent of his woollen jumper – the comfort of hand-washed wool – and Elsie’s lavender soap.
‘You’re allowed to hug me back,’ he said. ‘It’s not against the rules of a small life.’
She thought it might be against the rules, but she did it anyway, slipping her arms around his waist.
‘Mia, I need to kiss you.’
Her instincts were firing; warning bells were ringing inside her head, but they weren’t enough. There was more to life than knitting. The moment she lifted her head to look at him, he leaned down and kissed her.
Holding his face, she kissed him back. Inside her, a locked door creaked open.
He pulled away, leaving the smallest space between their lips, and looked into her eyes, trying to gauge her response.
She swallowed. ‘No need to stop.’
