‘But how did he know my name? Do you think he checked my mail in the letterbox or something? The snoop!’ April discussed what had happened with Belinda the next day at work.
‘Hang on,’ Belinda replied. ‘Didn’t you say he closed the window during your birthday celebrations?’ She leaned on the counter with her bony elbows. One had a tattoo of a feather on it.
‘Yeah, so?’
‘Well he must have heard your friends singing ‘Happy Birthday’ to you. They did use your name, right?’
‘Oh yeah. But I could have been one of the friends, he didn’t know it was my house. Unless …’ He must have seen her setting up outside, when she’d gone all OCD with the candle table decorations.
‘He’s seen you, he heard your name, he left a flower on your doorstep. What’s with all this over-analytical crap? Enjoy the gift, girl! I mean, boss.’
April smiled. ‘You’re right. He’s just unnerved me for some reason. He’s a bit weird. Didn’t even introduce himself.’
‘Did you introduce yourself?’
‘No, but …’ Damn. ‘Okay I get it. Anyway, back to work, my insightful young employee.’ April shooed her away from the counter and opened the stock list on the computer. Monday was usually slow, and being the start of the week, she liked to do the ordering of stock at the start of each week. That way they’d have plenty of the popular items ready for the weekend surge in sales.
‘God, I love this smell.’ Belinda sniffed a lime green candle like it was oxygen. ‘I wish there was some kind of permanent aromatic nose attachment so I could smell it all day without having to pick up the candle.’
‘Like a scented nose ring?’ April suggested with a chuckle.
Belinda pointed at her and raised her eyebrows. ‘Yes! You could be onto something there, woman. What a cool invention. We should invent it.’
‘I’ll leave that business venture for you, I think.’ April had a belly button ring, and her ears were pierced, but that was it. She didn’t think she had the kind of nose that suited a nose ring. Didn’t want one anyway. Belinda had enough piercings for the both of them. And tattoos.
April resisted the slight shudder in her nerves that sometimes threatened her sense of stability.
She hadn’t thought of her tattoo for a while. She’d loved the result of her impulsive decision to get one, after the redness had died down. It had made her feel unique and powerful, like she was expressing her own identity and projecting her confidence into the world. But now, that confidence, along with the tattoo, was gone.
‘I think you should order more of these,’ said Belinda, and April returned her focus to her job. ‘With my enthusiasm and strange smell addiction for whatever is in this baby, I reckon I can sell a truckload for you.’ She held the lime green candle up and stroked it like it was a cuddly pet.
‘Your wish is my command.’ April opened the website of one of her suppliers and added the candle to the shopping cart.
If only enticing scented candles were all that a person could get addicted to.
When she had finished her order and was about to change the window display, her phone beeped with a text message.
Sorry I missed your birthday. Would have been there if I could’ve. This bad back of mine is making it hard to get around. How’s about my baby girl pays me a visit sometime? Miss you.
April’s heart softened as it always did when she heard from him, then hardened. She was tempted to go see her dad on her lunchbreak, or after work, make sure he was eating properly and looking after himself as best as someone like him could. But she’d had enough of the ups and downs, the hot and cold, the abandonment followed by re-entry into her life. The inconsistency of his parental role. If she was to move forward with her life, she needed to put herself first. And that meant avoiding the inevitable hurt that came with continually bending to her father’s needs. Not that she’d let him fend for himself completely, but he’d had plenty of opportunities and support to get help for his addiction, but hadn’t committed to the process. They’d done all they could, for so long, but what more could they do?
She typed back:
I’m pretty busy with the new business, will see how I go for time over the next few weeks. Look after yourself.
What she really wanted to type was: Stop drinking. Please, Dad. No more.
But he wouldn’t stop. And there would be more. And more of everything else that came along with that; the drunken accidents, the fights and needing to be called in to the police station, the hospitalisation from dehydration and malnourishment, the guilt trips he’d give her because ‘no one looks after me’… She’d tried. Her mum had tried. But after the divorce Clarissa had said enough was enough. She’d check up on him occasionally, but there were boundaries she intended to maintain. At least her dad’s neighbours knew his situation and often checked on him, which gave her some peace of mind. But she couldn’t be his carer. She had her own life to lead, to rebuild after all that had happened.
She wouldn’t waste her life by watching him waste his.
* * *
April slowed as she walked past her new neighbour’s house after work, noticing the bundle of mail sticking out of the letterbox, and a parcel sitting on the doorstep. It was almost six. Maybe he was out?
‘Probably waiting for the mail to come to him when it’s ready,’ she joked to herself.
Heavy clouds hung overhead in the darkening sky. April yanked the mail from the letterbox and marched up to his porch. She glanced down at the parcel, the sender’s label said ‘Fast and Fresh’ and had a logo of a basket of fruit. If it was fruit, she didn’t know how fresh it would be sitting out here all day. And why would someone get fruit home delivered anyway, when the shops were a quick walk up the road?
Holding the mail in one hand, she knocked on the door with the other, then adjusted her handbag strap over her shoulder.
Her gaze flickered to a window at the side as the curtain moved. Then the door opened slightly and the man stood there as though trying to hide something behind him. Either that, or he could be worried she might barge in and start making herself at home or something.
She waited for him to say hi, but he kept silent, looked at her with eyes that seemed older than his years.
‘Just bringing in your mail,’ she said. ‘Not that I’ll be doing that on a regular basis, but it looks like it might rain, and it was sticking out of the letterbox.’
‘Thanks.’ He snatched the mail from her and went to close the door but April held out her hand and stopped it.
‘And there’s a parcel here.’ She glanced down at the box. When he didn’t bend down, she added with a hint of sarcasm, ‘Would you like me to pick it up for you?’
He didn’t reply, simply bent down and lifted the box as though it was as light as a feather. He was wearing that singlet again, and now that she was closer she could make out one of the tattoos on his outer arm: a Chinese-looking symbol.
‘Nice tatt,’ she said.
‘One of many,’ he finally spoke.
‘I figured that.’ Her eyes scanned his skin, but now the box in front of his chest obscured her view.
‘I’m April.’ She held out her hand, even though his hands were firmly holding the box.
He turned around to go into his house.
Oh great, he’s ignoring my attempt at being neighbourly. What a jerk.
She shook her head and was about to turn away herself when he placed the box down in his kitchen and came back to the door. He held out his hand. ‘I’m Zac.’
Oh.
She grasped it, and even though she’d been taught to shake hands with a firm sense of confidence, she held his like a limp fish as both the touch of his warm skin and the sight of his intense eyes looking directly into hers overwhelmed her ability to focus.
‘I already know your name,’ he added. ‘Overheard it the other night.’
Oh yes. The flower. ‘So it was you who left the gift on my doorstep.’
He shrugged. ‘Maybe.’
‘Clearly it was since you didn’t say “what gift?”’ She smirked, but he remained silent. ‘Well, thanks. It was nice.’
He gave a single, small nod.
‘Anyway, I’ve done my neighbourly duty, I’ll leave you to it.’ She turned.
‘So what do you do?’ he asked.
April turned back to face him. ‘Huh?’
‘For work. What do you do?’
‘I thought you weren’t interested in doing, only being.’
‘That’s correct. But you are obviously interested in doing. So what is it? Real estate, journalism, school teacher?’
‘Keep guessing.’
‘Just tell me.’
‘Okay then. What I do is own and run a candle shop in town. April’s Glow.’
A tiny smile flickered on his lips. ‘Nice name.’
‘Thanks. Yeah it was named after, well obviously me, but there’s a story to it as well. Because when I was young …’
Zac chuckled.
‘What?’ April adjusted her bag strap again.
He shrugged.
‘Why are you laughing?’
‘You’re amusing to watch.’
‘Amusing?’ April’s cheeks went warm and she diverted her gaze to the porch railing. She was just talking, what was so amusing about that? Well, now she wouldn’t tell him the story of how the shop got its name. He could suffer in suspense.
‘Candles, huh?’ he said. ‘I like candles, actually. I’m not a fan of artificial light.’
She tilted her head. ‘Well maybe you’d like to visit my shop and help your neighbour out by making a sizeable purchase.’ She grinned, opening her bag to retrieve a business card. If she could find one. ‘I’ll give you my card. Hang on.’ She pulled out her purse where she kept a few spares in the zippered compartment. She unzipped it and withdrew a card, but a couple more came with it and fell on the ground, along with …
Oh my God.
April’s eyes widened in horror at the flat, square-shaped item, its shiny foil packaging glinting in the porch light as though saying ‘look at me!’
‘You have promotional condoms for your business? Cool,’ Zac said.
Oh God, oh God, oh God.
April bent down and picked up the item, dropped it again, then picked it up again, along with the fallen cards. Shame she couldn’t pick up her dignity.
‘No, it’s not promotional, it’s just … it’s … I don’t usually have …’ She shoved the items and her purse in her bag and tensely held the strap on her shoulder. She only had one in her purse at Olivia’s insistence when she’d agreed to the internet date. ‘Just in case,’ she’d been advised. Not that she’d planned to go that far with someone she’d just met. ‘Anyway, I should go.’
‘Aren’t you going to give me your card?’
She eyed his unperturbed expression, which looked like he was used to people dropping condoms around him all the time, just another day at the office. Maybe he was used to it. Maybe he was some kind of male prostitute and that’s why he kept to himself and stayed home and maybe April was the tenth, eleventh, or even twelfth woman to arrive on his doorstep that day.
She carefully reopened her bag and took out a card, and handed it to him.
He studied it and nodded, then slid it into his pocket.
‘Anyway, bye.’ April’s voice was high-pitched. She turned away again and stepped off the porch, desperate to get away. But something made her glance back, as Zac walked back inside his house but left the door wide open. ‘Aren’t you going to close the door?’ she said. Why can’t I stop talking and leave? ‘Oh wait, let me guess. It’ll close when it’s ready, right?’
He shrugged, his hands in his pockets.
‘You never know who could barge right in.’ April gestured to the door. ‘A thief, or a serial killer, or …’ or a woman with your mail.
‘I can protect myself,’ he replied. ‘And … I have a feeling you can too.’ He grinned and closed the door, leaving April standing in his front yard, wishing she could sink into it and disappear forever. Then the rain came pouring down.