Chapter 4

Two days later, Callie stood in the centre of her empty shop, spread her arms and twirled like a little kid in a new party dress. Out of breath, and giggling, she pirouetted to the front window, hoping no one had noticed. No point giving them even more to gossip about.

It’s mine! My new start!

She’d signed the paperwork with Asher thirty minutes ago and rushed straight over with the keys. The sense of excitement was the same feeling she’d had years ago when she’d first set foot in her very own office at Mindalby Cotton, and the first time she’d stepped into the server room and gazed at the blinking lights on all the routers. It was the thrill of new challenges to be met, new mountains to conquer.

Here was her new challenge. In a way, Don had done her a favour. She’d been so busy keeping her head down and focusing on her job that she hadn’t realised how constricted she felt, how much she wanted to escape. The mill closure had forced her out of her comfort zone. Otherwise she might have stayed in her rut until retirement.

Cheeks aching from the broad grin she didn’t attempt to suppress, she sank down on the wooden floor. She’d spent the last couple of days researching, making plans and writing lists of stock to buy. Opening the folder she’d brought with her, she could almost see her plans come to life.

But first there was work to do. Along with cleaning, she also had to outfit the store with storage and display shelving and cabinets.

Her smile faded. Did she have the guts to get over her embarrassment and ask Nathan to do the work? Their meeting a couple of days ago had been awkward, with none of the ease they’d once had. Could they get back onto that footing? Or did they even need to? She was simply hiring him for a job.

Since she’d bumped into him, she’d been inundated with thoughts of her once best friend. Seeing him, speaking to him, had turned the key and let the memories escape.

She couldn’t remember the first time she’d met him. Growing up, they’d lived out of town along the same road and gone to primary school together. He’d always been there, in the background of her life. From the school playground to Sunday School picnics, he’d been around, but they’d never spent time together until that first day of high school.

Nervous and self-conscious in her new uniform, she’d stepped onto the bus that would take her to school in Bourke. They hadn’t had the convenience of a high school in Mindalby in those days. The older kids on the bus who obviously already knew each other stopped their skylarking long enough to stare at her and then turned their backs and returned to their conversations. Her hopeful dreams of instantly fitting in and being one of the popular kids shrivelled and died.

Face burning with embarrassment, she’d been about to slink down the aisle and take the empty seat at the front next to the kindergarten kid picking his nose, when she’d spotted Nathan.

She hadn’t recognised him at first with his hair slicked back and his new school tie looking like it was strangling him. He’d hesitated, then moved his bag off the seat beside him and motioned to the empty seat with his head. That moment, that small act of kindness, had been the first step to them becoming best friends. Until Sharon had shattered their world.

Shouts from outside the window brought her back to reality. A group of tradies walked past on the footpath outside, pushing each other good-naturedly. Were they part of Nathan’s crew? How many people worked for him now? She knew her sister-in-law’s brother had been with him for a few years. According to Thanh, he was a considerate boss who expected hard work but led by example.

Her heart fluttered as she thought again of their meeting. Her mind kept replaying the way his jeans clung lovingly to his thighs and butt, the toolbelt slung low around his hips. His broad shoulders filling out his white t-shirt, a scattering of sawdust in his hair and beard. The weedy kid, the dreamer who’d drifted on the fringes of several friendship groups, had certainly aged well. Like good cheese or George Clooney.

She’d been the geek, happiest when her head was stuck in a book or doing logic puzzles. Not much had changed, really. She still liked to pit her brain against a puzzle or cryptic crossword to relax.

From the folder, she pulled out the business card Nathan had given her. Turning it over and over in her hands, she thought about Sharon and Tony. Did she really want to give them the power to halt her in her tracks any longer? They’d moved out of town. She didn’t have to see them anymore. By leasing the shop, she’d made a start in taking her place in the community again. Surely she had enough guts to rekindle her friendship with Nathan.

Mind made up and heart pounding, she picked up her phone. No time like the present to call him.

***

Ah, the serenity!

Other than the distant hum of traffic on the main road and the wind in the trees, Nathan’s backyard on the edge of town was silent. While his crew were over at Cottonwood Close building a pergola, Nathan took the time to work alone. The O’Briens’ kitchen cabinets had been framed in, and now came the work he preferred—making the cabinet doors.

The big roller doors were up on his oversized shed, letting in the weak sunlight and the crisp air. He lifted the first cabinet door and positioned it under the router.

The blue-gum timber was smooth and warm beneath Nathan’s hands and for a fleeting moment he wished he could turn it into something beautiful rather than practical. If he had free rein on the timber, he’d create beautiful carvings of native animals on the doors, with hand-carved handles, all highly polished to a silken sheen. Intricate designs like they had in the old days, not easy-wipe surfaces with little charm. His kitchen cabinets did have a beauty of their own, but they didn’t sing to his heart like his wood-turning and sculpting had done.

He shook his head and settled his safety goggles over his eyes. No use thinking like that. The times in his life when he explored his creative side were in the past. Pre-marriage, pre-kids—back when he could afford to be self-indulgent with his time. Back when he and Callie had been best friends.

She’d been so encouraging, always asking how his sculpting was going and asking to see his creations. The look of awe on her face was lodged firmly in his mind. The way her face had shone when he presented her with one of the first things he’d carved—a small butterfly. Unlike his ex-wife, Callie had appreciated the skill and hard work that went into his carving.

But sculpting didn’t pay the bills. Now he had to concentrate on bringing this kitchen refit in on time and on budget, while convincing the owner that it was too late to change his plans yet again. Phillip had already moved the location of the sink—twice—and added extra overhead cabinets. He was now making noises about making the oven double the width, an idea Nathan had to nip in the bud.

A baby magpie hopped into the entrance of the doors and squawked for attention. It was probably the same bird who liked to come up and beg for food when he sat in his outdoor eating area. There was no better way to start the day than drinking a coffee and watching the sun rise, and his bird friends liked to keep him company while they sang in the dawn.

With his finger on the switch ready to start the router, he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. Pulling his earmuffs off with one hand, he reached in and pulled out the phone. ‘Perry Builders, Nathan speaking.’

‘Hi, Nathan, it’s Callie.’

His heart skipped a beat. Memories of her from a couple of days ago sprang to his senses like a montage in a movie. Things he hadn’t even noticed at the time—the soft pink of her fingernail polish, her light citrusy perfume, the way she chewed her bottom lip while she thought. If he was honest with himself, she hadn’t been far away from his thoughts since. He pulled off his safety glasses and twirled them between his fingers. ‘Callie, how are you?’

‘I’m great. I spoke to the real estate agent the other day about that shop.’

His breath caught in his lungs. Had Asher accidentally let something slip that clued Callie in that he was the owner? Her voice was upbeat though, not serious.

‘Did you? What did you decide?’ He knew the answer, but she wasn’t to know that.

‘I took the plunge and signed the lease. You were right, the rent was really affordable.’

He smiled at the excitement he could feel even through the phone. ‘That’s great. I’m sure your shop will do well.’

She hesitated, then her words blurted out in a rush. ‘Listen, is that offer to build me some shelves still open?’ Her voice wavered a fraction. She couldn’t be nervous, could she?

‘Of course. I’ve got a few other jobs on, but how about I call over to the shop after I finish work tonight? Would that suit? You can talk me through what you have in mind, and I can tell you what will work.’ Hopefully they’d be able to get past the awkwardness of meeting again after so many years. It was weird—she’d been a fixture in his life for so long, and now after five years without seeing her, it was almost like meeting someone new. Familiar but different.

‘That’d be great. Thank you. I’ve made plans but obviously you’ll want to take your own measurements.’

He grinned. Of course she’d already made plans. This was ultra-organised Callie he was talking to. In fact the only time he’d seen her completely thrown by life was when Tony left. She’d disappeared from sight—apart from the infamous bonfire episode—and he’d been too caught up in his own drama to call her on it. Not to mention the niggling sense of guilt about his own part in the breakup.

He really should have told her what he’d seen. Dismissing the memory, he pulled his mind back to the conversation.

‘I’ll give you a call when I finish up but it’ll be around five.’ If this was a business call, this would be the time to bring it to a natural close. But he was strangely reluctant to end the conversation. ‘How’s life without Mindalby Cotton?’

‘I’m still finding it weird not getting up and driving to work each day. But you know, it’s great. I hadn’t realised how Groundhog Day my life had become. And now I have my new challenge to keep me busy.’

‘You’ve been there a long time. No wonder it’s a big change for you. I heard the picket line is still going strong out the front of the factory.’

But it hadn’t helped anyone be any closer to receiving the money they were owed.

‘I’ve been focused on planning for the shop, so I haven’t heard much. Not sure a picket line is going to do much good. I doubt we’ll see hide nor hair of Don Carter—or the money he owes everyone—anytime soon.’ She sighed. ‘But I guess it can’t hurt—it probably helps people feel like they’re doing something and keeps the battle in the public eye.’

‘Yeah the national news networks have arrived already. They love a good visual for their stories.’

She laughed. ‘It’s the most attention Mindalby has had from the rest of the country in, probably ever.’

He loved the sound of her laugh when she let go. So vibrant and full of life. He wanted to make her laugh like that every day. Surely it was possible for them to be friends again? ‘How about I grab some Chinese takeaway on the way over tonight? Do you still like honey chicken?’ Unless her habits had changed, he knew how she took her coffee, her favourite meals, the types of books she read. There was a whole treasure trove of Callie trivia stored in his brain.

Silence for a full thirty seconds while his heart sank into his safety boots before she answered. ‘Is that such a good idea?’

‘We’re friends, aren’t we? Friends can have a meal together. Besides, we both need to eat.’ He emphasised the word friends. She was skittish, reluctant to get involved. After that night at the dance, she probably didn’t know where she stood with him. She was hardly Robinson Crusoe there, it had confused the hell out of him. But he had enough on his mind without picking apart a moment from five years ago. He just wanted them to be friends again.

More silence. He held his breath waiting for her answer.

‘I guess so. Thanks, yes I still love honey chicken.’

He hung up and fist-pumped the air. His feet tapped out a happy dance while he savoured his admittedly minor victory.