What Rosie Found Next (15 page)

‘I’d love to.’ Rosie couldn’t answer quickly enough when Owen suggested Christmas at the house in Magnolia Creek.

‘Be warned. It’ll be four Harrisons versus one Stevens.’

‘I think I’ll cope.’ She sat on a stool at the kitchen bench, swinging her legs.

Owen spooned coffee granules into two mugs and handed one to Rosie.

‘I can’t wait to start making plans,’ said Rosie, giggling at Owen’s freaked-out expression, and a seasonal warmth enveloped her as she realised that, without even looking for it, she’d found a family Christmas this year. The thought kept a smile on her face even when she wondered what Adam would say to this cosy Christmas plan for four plus a baby.

‘You’ll burn your mouth if you drink too fast,’ she told Owen, who was gulping down his coffee at a ridiculous speed.

‘I can’t stick around. I’ve got a meeting with my accountant and straight afterwards I’m heading out to the property I bought recently.’

‘I didn’t know you’d bought another. Where is it?’

Owen tipped his head back to get the last of the liquid. ‘Now that would be telling.’

‘I could come with you … give the place the once over from a female perspective.’

‘Another day, Stevens.’ He plucked his keys from the kitchen bench.

After she’d given him her opinions on the house in Albert Park, Rosie thought he might appreciate a woman’s point of view. But perhaps he needed headspace today. She tried not to read too much into it.

*

A few days later the bell tinged above Rosie as she stepped into Magnolia Gifts, a small-fronted-shop on the main street in town. She’d seen the Christmas village scene in the window a month ago, vowing to buy it ‘one day’ when she had a place of her own. And although that still hadn’t happened, having Christmas in a home with a family was all the excuse she needed now.

The set, full of meticulously hand-painted pieces, featured a cottage covered in snow, with orange windows showing lights glowing from within; a figurine of a boy holding a broom to sweep the snow from the path outside; a girl wrapping a scarf round the neck of a snowman. There was a ski lodge as well as olde-worlde streetlamps with red ribbons tied around the top, a guest house and a train station all covered in snow.

Adam was part of a large family, but none of them had ever seemed that enthralled by the Christmas season. She wondered whether her memories of her childhood had got bigger, more vivid, with the absence of anything similar since.

She stood at the counter in the shop with her fingers crossed on both hands that the owner, Mal, would find a complete set out the back, and he didn’t disappoint.

‘Are you sure you don’t need a hand?’ Mal held the door to the shop open for her.

‘I’ll be fine, thanks.’ With boxes piled up in her arms, Rosie left with a smile on her face.

She made it to her car, but as she was negotiating how to balance the boxes and retrieve the key from her bag, a voice came from behind her.

‘Let me help you.’ It was Bella. Rosie hadn’t seen her since their conversation more than a week ago. She let Bella hold the boxes while she pulled out the key and opened the boot.

‘You’ve been keeping a low profile,’ said Bella.

Rosie couldn’t help but smile. ‘Okay, I’ll admit I have been avoiding you a bit. But it’s really tough keeping the secret from Owen. I really think Jane needs to tell him.’

Her red lips relaxed. ‘I couldn’t agree more. I’ve been lying awake at night worried you’d blurt it out, but I’m glad we agree it’d be better coming from his mum. Coming from anyone else, Owen’s bound to be more hurt in the long run.’

Rosie paused, her hand on the boot, ready to close it. ‘And you’ll make sure she tells him as soon as she’s back?’

‘I promise. So what is it?’ She nodded to the boxes as Rosie shut the boot.

‘I bought the village display, like the one in the window.’

Bella whistled.

‘I know it’s a bit over the top, but it’ll look amazing, and I fell in love with it when I saw it.’

‘Well I assume this means you’re hanging around for Christmas?’

‘It does.’

‘And will Adam be joining you?’

Rosie shook her head. ‘Work, I’m afraid. But Owen and his brother will be there, so I won’t be alone.’

‘You’ll all have fun, I’m sure. Well, I’d better go. I’m coordinating next week’s open day at the fire station, and it takes some organising, let me tell you.’

Rosie locked her car. ‘I’ll walk with you. It’s a gorgeous day, and it’s about time I saw the fire station that takes up so much of the town’s time.’

Pleased at her confidence to take a step into a fire station for the first time since her dad had died, Rosie walked along in the sunshine, chatting to Bella. She took a deep breath when she saw the fire truck outside their destination. She could do this. It was time.

*

Owen dunked a long-handled brush into soapy water and began to clean the paintwork on the truck parked in the fire station driveway. Using a sponge he scrubbed the rear hubcaps and worked his way to the front of the vehicle. He squinted in the sun when he looked up at a figure approaching.

‘Hey, Rosie.’ He quickly took in the cute denim shorts showing off her legs and the fitted black T-shirt highlighting her copper-coloured hair. ‘What brings you here?’

‘I thought I’d have a walk and come in to say hi.’

Owen picked up the bucket. He walked over to the trees at the side of the driveway and emptied the grimy water over their roots. ‘Can we talk while I work?’

‘Sure.’

She leaned against the wall as Owen refilled the bucket with more hot water and added the cleaning agent. He set to work on the front of the truck, filthy with muck and dead flies.

‘So why are you really here?’ He asked as the hot soapy water trickled from the sponge beneath his hand, down to the concrete.

‘I told you, I was out walking.’

He looked at her and smiled, and with a roll of her eyes she said, ‘I thought it’d be a good opportunity to ask you about Christmas decorations. What? Why are you laughing?’

‘You sound like you’re my wife.’ Now there was a thought. He dipped the sponge into the water again.

Defensively, hands on those little hips, she said, ‘I do not!’

‘Oh relax. I’m messing with you.’ He flicked soapy water at her and it landed on her nose. She blushed and swished it away.

He crouched down to scrub the bottom of the front grill, flicking away debris of gravel and twigs.

‘I hope you don’t mind,’ Rosie began, ‘but I bought something Christmassy from Magnolia Gifts.’

‘You’re the official house-sitter. Make yourself at home.’ He continued scrubbing ‘We’ve got a ton of decorations stored in the shed too, so I’ll get them out later.’

‘Thanks.’ She hesitated and then added, ‘I was thinking we should discuss the dinner plans, make sure we’ve got a list of the food everyone likes, that we cater for Tom’s little boy—’

‘Rosie, stop worrying.’ He stood up now. ‘None of us will starve. And we’ve still got more than three weeks till Christmas.’ It was all sounding a bit too domesticated for him, but then he’d always appreciated being a part of the Harrison clan, and now he hoped he could do something towards making this a special Christmas for Rosie. Since the night she’d been attacked and confided in him, she’d lost the hard edges that made her unreachable and so determined not to let him in. What had seemed a life planned out and formulated, he began to realise, was her way of coping, of ensuring she was never taken by surprise again.

Owen waved hello to Gus as his colleague arrived at the station and chatted with Rosie. He didn’t miss the nod of approval from the other man either as soon as he was out of Rosie’s line of vision. Owen smiled to himself. Carrie always turned heads when they were together: she was blond, tanned, had the high cheekbones and perfectly straight teeth. But the subtlety of Rosie’s attractiveness was a whole lot more powerful than that.

‘I’ll leave you to it, you’re busy,’ said Rosie.

Gus reappeared and whipped the sponge out of Owen’s hand. ‘I’ll finish off. Why don’t you take a break?’

‘Are you sure?’ Owen knew exactly what Gus was up to, trying to match-make. But he wasn’t going to argue. It was a gorgeous day and he’d get to spend time with Rosie. What more could a man ask for?

‘Get outta here before I change my mind.’ Gus frowned at the flies still stuck to the bumper.

‘Finnegan’s?’ Owen suggested to Rosie.

‘Great. We could discuss Christmas.’

‘Jeez, I walked right into that one, didn’t I?’

*

At the table beside the window, they ordered scones to share, a latte for Owen and a fresh mango juice for Rosie, who decided it was too hot for anything else. She took a corner of scone and spooned on some jam and cream. Even though they’d shared plenty of dinners before now, sharing from the same plate was completely different, especially when Owen’s knees, in his navy-blue cargo pants, kept touching hers beneath the wooden table. She watched as he devoured half a scone in record time. It had to be the physical labour making him so hungry, she decided as she read the white Magnolia Creek Fire Brigade logo on his navy-blue T-shirt.

‘Well done today,’ he said.

‘What do you mean?’

‘Coming into the fire station.’

‘Oh, that.’

‘I know it was probably a big step for you, after … well, you know.’

She smiled at him, glad of his understanding, glad she’d been able to do it too.

‘I wonder whether your parents will get a white Christmas this year,’ she said as they carried on enjoying the scones.

He smiled. ‘They might do.’

‘Why are you grinning at me?’

‘No reason.’

‘Come on, there has to be a reason.’

‘You’re very into Christmas, that’s all.’

‘Sorry.’

‘Don’t be sorry, it’s great.’

She smoothed more cream onto another piece of fresh scone. ‘It was always special when I was little. You Harrisons have got a lot to live up to this year.’

‘We’ll try our best.’ He sipped his latte. ‘It was always pretty cool in our house when we were little too. We had these enormous Santa sacks and stockings that Mum made for all three of us. On Christmas Eve we’d hang them up beside the fireplace and leave out a mince pie, a beer for Santa and carrots for the reindeer.’

Rosie grinned. ‘I love all the traditions. At our house Dad was always in charge of making the mince pies. He said he couldn’t coordinate the main dinner – too many elements – so it was his way of letting me rest up before the big event. I’d help him and he’d always give me the first mince pie of the batch as soon as they were ready. I lost count of how many times I burned my mouth on that first bite.’

‘Mince pies are your responsibility this year, then.’

‘I’m happy with that.’ She finished the pulp in the bottom of her glass.

‘So tell me. What other traditions did you have?’

Rosie bit down on her lip, revelling in the sharing. ‘Every year, about a fortnight before Christmas, Dad and I used to travel way out to the country and choose a tree ourselves. Of course I’d want the whole lot of trees, from the small fat ones to the tall, towering ones that couldn’t possibly have fit in our lounge room or even through the front door.’

‘I’d have loved a real tree,’ he said. ‘But Mum had an artificial one right from early on and she even upgraded it, you know, when they started to get a bit more designer and actually looked like trees rather than plastic doing a pathetic impression of something living.’

‘I don’t think you can beat the smell of the real thing.’

‘Did you celebrate last Christmas with your mum now your dad is no longer around?’

She shook her head. ‘I was with Adam and we went to a fancy restaurant in the city.’

‘And what was it like?’

‘Pretty amazing.’

‘But …’

‘How do you know there’s a “but”?’

‘Call it Male Intuition.’

‘I’m not sure that even exists.’

‘Right, just for that, I’m finishing this last piece of scone.’

She giggled. ‘Go ahead, I’m full already.’

‘So what’s the “but”?’

She met his gaze. ‘I had a great time being wined and dined somewhere posh.
But,
it wasn’t really Christmas. Not in the sense I remember. I was sad anyway, with Dad gone, and perhaps that’s why Adam chose to do something entirely different. But I missed the usual traditions, the simplicities of being at home with family.’

He gave her hand a sympathetic squeeze, then glanced at his watch.

His touch had taken her by surprise. ‘Do you have to get back?’ she asked.

‘I’m due up at the primary school soon with the rest of the crew, to teach fire safety.’

‘I’m impressed.’

‘We like to start ’em young in these parts, Stevens. We hope that by the time the kids are adults, fire safety will be embedded in their psyche.’ He stood up. ‘Come on, I’ll walk you to your car.’