Discovering Stella (10 page)

“Look,
I’m
not
in trouble. I promise. I just
can’t
be in Melbourne any
more.
Please, if I
don’t
stay
here
I
will
move
on
to somewhere else. I miss
you
...
this,” I said, gesturing between us. “So much time has
gone
by,
and
we’ve
missed so much of each
other’s
lives.
It
makes me sad.
You’re
the only sibling
I’ve
ever had, and I want that relationship back.
You
have no idea
how
much
it
meant to me. Still means to
me.”

Todd
squatted in
front
of me and
took
my
hands in his.
“Hey,
it’s
not
that I
don’t
want
you
to
stay.
Of course I
do.
I’d
love
it.
I’ve
missed
you too.
I just have a gut feeling that
some
thing is wrong. I
don’t
like it,
Stel.”

Fighting back tears, I surrendered and let them fall.
“I’m
sorry.
I want to tell you,
but
I
can’t.
I’m
not
ready.
Just give me time, okay? I promise that when
I’m
strong enough, I’ll tell
you
everything.”

“Stella,
you’re
worrying me. I hate seeing
you
like this.”
He
pulled me in
for
a hug, which only amplified
my
need to expel
more
tears.
“I’m
here
if
you
need
me,”
he said, rubbing
my
back in a soothing
motion.
“You
know that, right?”

“Yes,”
I sniffled,
“and
I do need you. Just be patient with me. I
don’t
know
how
else to deal with this.” Pulling away from him, I wiped
my
eyes with the sleeve of
my
cardigan.
“Sorry,
I
didn’t
mean to go
all
crybaby
on
you. Really,
I’m
fine
...
I
will
be fine. I just need this
...
this time with
you
...
here,
in Pittstown.
Please.”

He
wiped a tear from
my
chin.
“Yeah,
you
haven’t
done
the
whole
cry-till-I-get-what-I-want thing in a
while.”

“Well
...
don’t
get used to
it.”
I smiled, blotting
my
eyes.
“It
was a
once-off.”

Todd
stood, turned back around and pushed
some
boxes with his foot. “So, when
can
you
start?”

“Start what?” I asked, continuing to
dry
my
eyes.

“Your
new
job.
I need this room organised, then we
can
talk
about getting
you
a Responsible Service of Alcohol certificate.”

I jumped up with
excitement.
“Really?”

“Yes,
really.
You
can
stay
as
long
as
you
like,
but
while
you’re
here,
you work for
me.”

Putting
my
hand
on my hip,
I gave him a sly smile. “I’ll
work
with you,
not for
you.”

“Stel
Bel,”
he teased,
“don’t
push
it.”

“Toddler,”
I teased back, “deal with
it.”

He grabbed
my
arm and pulled me in
for
another hug.
“Come
here, you.
I’m
so glad
you
tracked me
down.”

“Yeah,
me
too.”

“Why did we stop keeping in touch?”

I shrugged
my
shoulders.
“You
went
overseas
on
a backpacking adventure of a lifetime. Then,” I said
sadly,
“
I guess life just got in the
way.”

“Yeah,
I guess shit happens,
doesn’t
it?”

Wriggling free from his grip, I stood at
arm’s
length.
“Yes,
it
does.”

Boy, does it ever.

*
 
*
 
*

Todd
and I ate lunch together at the
pub.
The Pittstown
Hotel
was your typical country town establishment: a
double
storey,
nineteenth century building situated at
an
intersection in the heart of town. The
interior
consisted of a mahogany-stained wooden
bar,
fireplace and furniture, which were
complemented
by a maroon industrial-style carpet that was peppered with scuff marks and cigarette burns. And, like every
rural
pub
in Australia, a
lone
pool table sat in the middle of the
room,
the focal
point
of the area.

Todd
had introduced me to
some
of the locals and the staff members who were present. Since the hotel was a small establishment, there were only six employees,
all
of
them friendly and welcoming. I
hadn’t
yet met Shaz,
one
of the waitresses and bartenders, who
Todd
compassionately said was a force to be
reckoned
with,
but
I
couldn’t
wait to start working there.

“Are
you
sure Meg and Lawson are going to be
all
right with me staying on?” I asked, pushing
my
chair in at the table and picking up
my
empty plate.

Todd
held his hand
out,
indicating I give the dish
over.
“Yeah,
I
don’t
see there being a
problem.
The house is
more
than
large enough. Plus, I think
it’s
safe to say they both like
you.”

“God
...
I hope
you’re
right.”

“Since when
am
I not?” he said with
an
eyebrow waggle. “So,
what’re
your plans
for
the rest of the day?”

“Well
...
seeing
as
it’s
my
last day
off,
I’m
going to
walk
to
Lawson’s
workshop and check the progress of
my
car.
After
that, I might go see the
river.”

“Okay,
but
don’t
get lost. The bushland down
along
the river is quite
dense,”
he warned.

I rolled
my
eyes at him.
“Yes,
Dad.”

“Goodbye,
Stella,”
Todd
said dismissively, turning around and heading
for
the
bar,
his
voice
laced with playful
contempt.

“Ooh,
using
my
full
name again, are we?”

He
stopped, turned back around and raised a questioning
eyebrow.

I smiled in return and blew him a kiss.
“Byeee,”
I said, then practically skipped
out
of the hotel. So far,
my
decision to take that leap of faith had been the right
one.

*
 
*
 
*

As
I made
my
way along the
side
of the road toward Knight Repairs,
my
steps were alternating between gleeful skipping and hesitant
stone
kicking, a perfect indication of
my
mixed feelings. I was genuinely happy
for
the first time in a
long
while, excited at the prospect of what lay ahead.
Yet
emotions have the ability to bounce about like a ball
on
a pinball machine.
One
min
ute you
can
be happy and the next
you
can
be unsure, wanting nothing
more
than
to take a step backward, because the
alter
native means having to let your guard down. And I
wasn’t
sure whether letting
my
guard down where Lawson was concerned was the right thing to
do. Yeah,
the night before had been fun, and
more
importantly, harmless — we
hadn’t
even kissed.
But
despite
the non-touching of tongues, allowing Lawson to be so close to me was a big
step.
It
meant that deep down I liked him.
No wonder I’m nervous.

Just the thought of seeing him
again
had
my
cheeks heating and
an
uncontrollable smile spreading across
my
face.
Not
to
mention
the feeling in
my
stomach — courtesy of the butterflies — when I thought about his touch and the way he’d looked at me the night before.

A small tin shed with a large white sign displaying a picture of armour and a sword came
into view.
Admittedly, the
whole
knight concept was a little tacky, yet the tackiness that was Lawson had me smiling even
more.
God, he is just so adorably aggravating.

Slowly,
I made
my
way along the driveway and in through the opening of the shed, carefully stepping
over
electrical leads and dodging greasy
benchtops.
I was wearing a pale pink
top over
a short denim skirt, therefore the smallest scrape against any surface would result in a stain, which was never good.

As
I rounded the
corner,
I spotted Lawson standing with his back to me.
He
was wearing
old
grease-stained jeans, a
dirty
rag dangling from his back pocket. I trailed
my
eyes
over
his black singlet
top
when,
suddenly,
two perfectly manicured hands snaked around his
side
and entwined, resting
on
his
lower
back.
My
breathing hitched and I froze.
Shit!
He
has a girlfriend.

Hang on a second
...
He. Has.
A.
Fucking. Girlfriend?

The
pit
of
my
stomach dropped, figuratively landing
some
where at
my
feet.
All
of a
sudden,
I felt ill, and with
my
eyes bulging, I watched
as
the woman dug
her
bright red nails
into
his denim-covered arse.

“Come
on,
baby,
you
know
you
want
to,”
she purred, pulling herself against him and coming
into
view,
her
lust-covered
face appearing
over
his
shoulder.

Now,
I was
not
normally
one
to judge a book by its
cover,
for
what’s
inside should
not
be decided until seen,
but
there were
some
women
who
wore
“bitch” extremely well. This chick was
one
of them.

The bitch in question
had long, straight
ebony
hair, brown eyes and a diamond piercing above lips
as
red
as
blood. Coloured ink covered
her
upper arm, the artistic swirls and images both intimidating and stunning.

Just
as
she was about to lick,
nibble or
do god knows what to his earlobe, she paused and tilted
her
head to the side, calmly
taking
me in.
“We
have
company,”
she said
seductively,
with a calculated smile.