‘Your mum’s invited me over for Christmas Eve drinks,’ Cash told Linc as they lay quietly listening to the night sounds outside her bedroom window.
‘Pretty sure you’ve wrapped both my parents around your little finger.’
‘Your parents are great.’
‘Yeah, they are. I don’t know how they’ve made time for everything they’ve done over the years. Dad’s worked the farm and is in the rural fire brigade,’ he said. ‘They’re both involved in the Farming Federation, the hall committee and the race day committee.’ He shook his head. ‘Mum’s always been on school and sports committees, plus raising us four kids. They’ve always been there for us.’
Cash couldn’t even imagine how they managed. ‘It blows my mind how many roles they take on around here.’
‘In small places like this, you have to if you want to keep things like sports groups and events going. As kids grow up and leave, the parents who volunteer also drop out, so there has to be a constant handing down of the reins to keep things going. There’s been a lot of changes over the years and people just don’t want the responsibility, so the committee members feel like they need to stay on longer and longer. I think Mum and Dad just can’t bear to see all their years of hard work lost if things close due to lack of volunteers. It’s a shame, because they should be able to retire and take it a bit easier.’
‘Maybe they’d be lost if they didn’t stay busy. It’d be hard for them to suddenly find themselves with nothing to do.’ ‘Yeah, that’s a part of it too. Mum in particular—she’s only happy when she’s busy. I think she thrives on stress myself.’
‘Some people are like that,’ Cash agreed. ‘Harmony reminds me a lot of your mother.’
‘Yeah, she’s grown up around the whole community thing, I guess.’
‘She doesn’t like me very much.’
‘Don’t take it personally. I don’t know what’s going on with Mon lately. She wasn’t always this …’
‘Bitchy?’
‘Yes,’ he conceded. ‘I’ve tried to talk to her, but she’s not exactly opening up. I guess I haven’t really been around enough to figure out what’s been going on. I’m pretty sure Griff knows more than he’s letting on. But then he’s not exactly into having any kind of meaningful conversation with me either.’
‘I think you need to try again. You guys have to get this sorted.’ She really wasn’t sure why this upset her so much—it wasn’t any of her business. There was just something sad about watching a family that contained so much love fall to pieces like this. If only they realised how precious a gift it was, to be born into a family like theirs.
She’d debated about telling Linc what she’d seen on her way home but decided not to say anything. She didn’t want to start anything—particularly if she’d made a mistake. But she had a sinking feeling that whatever was going on with Linc’s eldest sister, it couldn’t keep going the way it was. Eventually something was going to snap, and it wasn’t going to be pretty when it did.
Cash pulled up in her usual spot at Stringybark Creek and noticed there were a lot of cars already here. She ticked off the Dawsons’ vehicle, and Harmony’s expensive Land Rover, a few bulky farm utes and Oliver Dawson’s flashier sports ute, which had probably cost almost as much as Harmony’s imported monstrosity.
She bought only a box of chocolates this time, after getting in trouble for bringing anything last time and then feeling more than a little intimidated by the quality and quantity of Lavinia’s cooking. She knew there would already be a ton of food.
As she approached the foot of the stairs a hand shot out of the darkness and dragged her into the shadowy well beneath the staircase. Her stifled gasp was lost as a warm mouth closed against her own, and fear instantly turned into fire at the familiar touch.
Linc buried his face in Cash’s neck and she let out a shaky breath, her body liquefying. Behind her the timber boards of the closed-in understorey of the large house pressed into her back, and the cool touch on her skin contrasted the heat from his body which pressed against her from the other side. His roughly whispered coarse words would have earned anyone else a slap across the face, but somehow his deep, gravel-like tone softened the words and sent a shiver of need through her.
The sound of voices coming out onto the deck above them froze Cash to the spot and had her clutching Linc’s arms in warning. He lifted his head to listen and another low expletive left his mouth—this time a soft mutter aimed at bad timing and interruptions. When he didn’t move away, Cash gave him a glare and tossed her head in the direction of the voices pointedly.
‘Stuff ’em,’ he said quietly. ‘I’m over this, Cash. I don’t care if they know about us. I’m pretty sure they already suspect anyway.’
‘Griff doesn’t know, and you can’t let him find out like this,’ she said urgently, genuinely worried about how such an announcement would affect the rest of the evening’s festivities. ‘You know how much your mum’s been looking forward to Christmas, we can’t risk ruining it if Griff gets angry.’
‘Bugger Griff. He’s a grown man, he can take it. He’s invited a date tonight, so I’m pretty sure he’s moved on. In fact, the more I think about it, the stupider I feel that we didn’t just tell him from the beginning.’
‘It’s not about whether he’s moved on or not. He’s going to think you were the reason he and I didn’t work out.’ Confrontation had always made her anxious and somehow she knew that Griff wasn’t going to take the news of their dating, or whatever this was, too well.
‘Okay, fine,’ he sighed wearily. ‘But I’m not pandering to Griff forever. He’s going to have to find out sooner or later. I’m getting too old for this shit.’
A slow smile spread across Cash’s mouth as she took in his angled eyebrows and fierce expression. ‘Has anyone told you how sexy you look when you pout?’ she teased quietly.
‘I don’t pout,’ he growled, dipping his head back down to nuzzle at her neck, wiping the smile from her face in an instant.
‘My mistake,’ she sighed, before reluctantly sidestepping from his embrace and straightening her outfit. ‘If you behave yourself for the rest of the night, I might let you explain what you were doing,’ she told him.
‘You like it more when I don’t behave,’ he said, flashing her the cocky grin that seriously made her knees buckle—not that she’d ever tell him that, though.
‘Oh, there you two are,’ Hadley said with a wiggle of her eyebrows as they reached the top of the steps. ‘Gran’s serving the eggnog.’
‘I don’t think I’ve ever had eggnog before,’ Cash said.
‘For real?’ Hadley said, giving her a double-take.
Cash shook her head. ‘Christmas wasn’t quite the same as this in my house.’
‘This family does Christmas to the max,’ she said dryly, swapping a look with her older brother. ‘Oh well, at least your first eggnog will be memorable. A word to the wise,’ she said, dropping her voice a little. ‘Go steady. At first they seem harmless, but they have a nasty habit of sneaking up on you and, before you know it, you find yourself half-naked in the back of Tezza Ashcroft’s ute singing “Six White Boomers” as you do circle work around the paddock at three in the morning.’
Cash swapped an amused glance with Linc before following Hadley back towards the house.
‘So where have you three been hiding out?’ Harmony asked as they walked into the living room where everyone seemed to be gathered.
Cash was conscious of Griff looking up at their entrance, watching them closely. Thankfully Hadley stepped in calmly and saved the day. ‘We were outside admiring Mum’s decorations.’
‘Here you go, dear,’ Gran said, handing over a glass of creamy eggnog from the tray she held. ‘Take a seat, it’s present time.’
Cash snapped her head around to look at Linc in a panic. ‘Presents? What presents? I didn’t bring any!’ Who the hell did presents on Christmas Eve?
‘It’s all right, it’s just a tradition Mum likes to do, it’ll be fine,’ he reassured her, reaching around her to take his own glass.
Cash looked on in bemusement as a commotion erupted outside, and moments later Lavinia stepped into the room dressed in a short red Mrs Claus outfit, with a fluffy hemline over fishnet stockings, red boots and a red stocking cap on her head. Santa Claus followed, ho-ho-ho-ing into the room and carrying a large red sack.
‘Santa!’ Lavinia gasped as the jolly man in the red suit planted a smack on her bottom as he walked past.
‘Let me check who’s been naughty and nice,’ Bob’s deep, after a few too many Scotches, voice boomed through the room as he pulled out a piece of paper and tried to focus on the writing, holding it at arm’s length. ‘I can’t read the bloody thing,’ he complained. ‘Never mind! I’m pretty sure you’re all on the naughty list anyway. Let’s see who we have here,’ he went on, pulling out the first parcel.
‘Holder, where’s Holder?’ he called in a Santa voice, looking around the room. The reluctant teen put his hand up, looking as though he’d rather be anywhere else but here with his crazy grandparents playing Santa and Mrs Claus in the middle of the room.
‘Here you go, Merry Christmas Eve.’
‘Thanks, Granddad.’
‘No, no young man, it’s Santa Claus,’ Bob insisted with a wink, before turning away to dig back in the bag and missing the young boy’s roll of the eyes as he headed back to his seat to open his gift.
‘Do we have a Harmony here?’ Santa Bob asked, before spotting his eldest daughter and handing over the brightly wrapped parcel.
Cash noticed with interest that Harmony wore a real smile; it was only a small one, but it was the first time she’d seen the woman relaxed. Clearly this family tradition must have held some special memories, if the ice woman’s softening was any indication.
Cash noticed that Linc had found a seat, perched on the arm of the lounge beside Harmony and his niece. She wasn’t sure if it was to maintain distance, or just because seating was limited. She caught his look and felt a lick of heat caress her skin at the message she read there: Later, we’re going to pick up from where we left off. She dragged her gaze back to the entertainment in the centre of the room and tried to calm her frantic pulse.
‘Where’s Cash?’ Santa said, scanning the room until he came to rest on her, his white moustache slipping slightly. ‘Ah, there she is,’ he grinned, handing the gift to his wife.
‘Merry Christmas,’ Lavinia said, placing a kiss on her cheek.
‘Thank you,’ Cash stammered, looking up from the red-wrapped square-shaped object. ‘You shouldn’t have—’
‘Rubbish,’ she said, waving off her protest as she moved back to assist Santa in giving out the next present.
Cash stared at the gift a moment, before gingerly placing it on her lap, fighting a barrage of unexpected emotions. Christmas had never been like this for her. Growing up she hadn’t had the luxury of believing in Santa and waking up to presents under the tree. Her father had tried one year, when she’d been about seven or so. There’d been a tree and tinsel and even presents. Looking back, it had been her parents’ final attempt to resurrect their marriage. Things had started well; her dad was home and her mum had seemed happy, the happiest she’d been in a long time. Cash had lain in bed on Christmas Eve, asking Santa to please, please make it last. She missed her dad when he wasn’t there, and Mum didn’t cry as much when he was around. She didn’t sleep all day on the lounge either.
On Christmas morning, Cash had woken up early and run out to the tree, only to find it knocked over and the presents scattered around the room, crushed and broken. Her mum was asleep, draped across the lounge, an empty bottle tipped over on the floor beneath her outstretched hand. Her makeup was smudged and marked with tear tracks, and her left eye was swollen and red. It always ended the same way.
Cash carefully picked through the debris on the floor, managing to save a few of the presents. There was no sign of the Pound Puppy she’d been hoping for, but there was a My Little Pony, lying under some ripped wrapping paper, one side of the box crushed. It wasn’t the purple one she’d wanted but that was okay, it was still pretty. It was an apricot colour with a pale pink mane. She’d lifted it to her nose and breathed in the plastic, sweet smell and gently touched the flowing mane. It was beautiful.
There were a few board games, all of which had been smashed in drunken rage, her mother’s or father’s, she couldn’t tell. Not that it mattered—who was she supposed to play board games with anyway? She never had any friends from school come to her house to play; how could she when she never knew what kind of mood her mother would be in from one day to the next?
Now looking up from the parcel on her lap, she found herself smiling at the obvious love in the room. Christmas had never been a big event in her life even as an adult. She usually avoided it. What a different life she would have lived if she’d had functioning parents instead of the two she’d been given. Cash blinked away the memories and swallowed past a tightening throat.
She hadn’t thought about that Christmas in years. She did her best not to think about the past—what was the point? She couldn’t change anything, and all it did was make her feel sad. If there was one thing she couldn’t stand, it was feeling sorry for herself. She’d witnessed first-hand the damage that kind of habit could do. Her mother had blamed everyone else for the life she had. It wasn’t until Cash was older that she realised there were a lot of people who had terrible lives, but complaining about it never helped. You either picked yourself up and found a way around your problems, or you laid down and stayed where you were and never got up again. She was never going to be in the same situation as her mother. She didn’t want success in a monetary sense, she just wanted to make a life for herself that was better than the one she’d had growing up. She’d learned early on that the only person she could count on was herself, and that lesson had served her well. It made her self-sufficient, and if she stuffed up, there was only herself to blame and only she got hurt.
‘You can open it, dear,’ Gran said, coming around with the tray of eggnog and handing Cash another one. ‘Santa always brings us one gift on Christmas Eve to open.’
Cash took a sip of the eggnog and placed it on the table beside her, before turning the package over and lifting the sticky tape from the neatly folded corners. As she peeled back the paper, a wooden sign was revealed, the kind that Savannah had dotted through her house. This one had Friends are the family you find along the way painted on it in an elegant script and Cash found herself blinking back the sting of tears as she read the words.
She quickly wrapped the paper back around the gift and slipped it into her handbag. She needed time to digest the thoughtful present, something she couldn’t do here. Mr and Mrs Claus continued their way around the room, handing out brightly wrapped gifts, and Cash took in the smiles and laughter from around the room. Christmas carols played in the background and there was an overwhelming feeling of happiness and cheer in the room. It felt almost magical. She’d always scoffed at the Hallmark-type Christmas movies that played each year, depicting smiling faces and Christmas-card perfect scenes, figuring they were all fantasy, but being part of this tonight made her question that idea. Maybe it wasn’t as fake as she’d thought. Maybe people really did have these kinds of perfect Christmases after all.