Memories of May Page 13
She could leave now, go to the school, go do another day at work, or she could take an extra minute or two to climb out a window, tick something else off her ‘do something differently’ list, and then get on with her day.
She laughed that she was even thinking such crazy thoughts, but the side window and the kitchen ones were the only ones without screens on them, each with a knob that wound around in circles to open the glass pane outward. Okay, so she’d have to climb out, come back in the door, then close and lock the window, then go out the door again, but that wasn’t the point. And she couldn’t do something so silly if Mia was around.
No time like the present.
She shrugged, placed her handbag and Mia’s lunch bag on the windowsill, then wound out the window. The question was, could she fit through? She was slim enough, no big boobs in the way. It looked wide enough. She sat on the edge, lifted her right leg up and over and through the gap. Easy. She lifted her left leg, the back of her leg muscle stretching as she raised it up to be able to put it on the same side of the winding cable as her other leg. Then pointed her toe to thread it down the gap. Both legs were through. Now to lift my butt off and slide through … She wriggled her hips, her hands on the window ledge to steady herself, glad the window wasn’t in view of her neighbours. At a slight angle, she lowered herself further, but her left thigh met with the winding cable and snagged on her pants. She yanked at the thread and it came free; still, her thighs and hips were wedged between the windowpane and the wall and the cable. She tried rotating her hips to flatten herself against the wall edge. They wouldn’t budge, and she was getting the world’s biggest wedgie. Oh my God, no no no! She glanced around, as though a solution would miraculously appear. She attempted to swivel and twist, and even wondered if anything oily and slippery was in reach so she could somehow slide herself out. Her handbag! Despite needing her hands to hold herself in a more comfortable position, she lifted her left hand to open her bag, and yanked at the zip. It toppled sideways, she grasped it back before it dropped through the gap. Prying the bag open, she hesitated. Hand cream? Was she really going to lather hand cream all over her hips in the hope of slithering through? Then she’d have to come back inside and get changed. But at least she wouldn’t be stuck anymore. She found the cream and popped open the lid. Oh God, am I really doing this? Apparently so, she thought, as she squirted the cream onto her thigh near the cable, and then onto the other one against the windowpane. She rubbed it around and wriggled her hips again, but they seemed to be swelling either side from the pressure and blood circulation being half cut off. ‘Crap, crap crap!’ she echoed Mia’s words from before.
Glancing at the time on her watch, her heart beat faster. She had to get back to the school and then to work as soon as possible. She plucked her phone from her bag and pressed contacts. Who was she supposed to call in this situation?
She waited at the sound of the ringtone.
‘Hi, you’ve reached Diana Chevalier, I’m currently—’
Mia ended the voicemail message. ‘Geez, Mum! Answer your phone.’ She called again, but still voicemail. She called Marcus’s number. When his went to voicemail she remembered he was at a dental appointment in Welston and not due in to work till late morning.
She scrolled her contacts. A-ha!
‘April’s Glow, April speaking.’
‘April! Hi, it’s me, Olivia!’
‘Hey, how’s things? Why are you calling the store?’
‘Because I needed you to answer.’
‘Is everything okay? Mia okay? Your grandma?’
‘Yes, yes, but … I kinda need help. Is Belinda there with you?’
‘Not yet, she’ll be here later, why?’
‘I may require some, ah … assistance, from someone. I seem to be stuck in a bit of a jam. Literally.’
‘What? Jam? Like, jam you eat? What are you talking about, girl?’
‘Not jam, but I’m jammed. Stuck. In my window, at home. I tried to climb out.’ Olivia held the phone slightly away from her ear as April burst out laughing.
‘Why on earth are you climbing out your window? Actually, don’t answer. Okay, what do you need … fire and rescue, pliers, scissors, forceps?’ She spoke and chuckled at the same time.
‘Anything, I can’t seem to budge no matter how hard I try, and I don’t like the idea of slicing my thigh open trying to force myself through.’ Olivia grunted with the effort of another failed attempt.
‘Okay, well I can come and … hang on. Damn.’
‘What is it?’
‘I have a sales rep coming in about five or ten minutes for a meeting about her new range of candles.’ April hummed. ‘It’s okay, I can call her and tell her to wait, or reschedule. I’ll put the closed sign up and be right over.’
‘Oh God, I’m such an idiot. Don’t worry, I’ll try calling my mum again first. Or Peter.’
‘I could ask Zac,’ April piped up. ‘Oh, but he’s on his way to his psychologist appointment, I can’t disrupt his routine.’
Was her inner circle really this small that she had only a few local people she could turn to in a situation like this without risking huge embarrassment?
‘Hang on,’ Olivia said. ‘I might know someone who can help. I’ll call you back if I can’t get anyone.’
‘You sure?’
‘Yeah, you get on with your day and I’ll be back in touch if I’m desperate.’
Like she wasn’t already. She didn’t like the idea of calling the professionals and being the laughing stock of Tarrin’s Bay, perhaps making it into the newspaper. She would be laughed at either way, but better it was only by one or two people. Though she cringed when she called his number.
‘Hey there, what’s up?’ Joel said.
‘What’s stuck, more like it,’ Olivia replied.
‘Stuck? Are you still working on that transition point in the book when your grandma takes over the tailor’s premises and turns it into the bookstore? Because you should write it the way we discussed, like how—’
‘No, nothing about the book! I’m literally stuck. In a window.’
‘Whaat?’ Joel laughed. ‘Whose window?’
‘Mine. Can you just come help me please? I can’t find anyone else. And my thighs hurt. And I have a wedgie.’
Did I really just tell him that I had a wedgie?
He laughed again. ‘Dare I ask how you got in this literally stuck wedgie-predicament?’
‘Just help. Please.’
‘Okay, okay. On my way.’
‘You’ll have to come around the side, on the left. Open the side gate, it has no lock, just a latch if you reach over.’
‘Should I hire the motorbike again so I can give you a fast ride to the hospital for emergency wedgie treatment?’
‘Oh, stop, you can laugh and make jokes all you want after you get me out of here.’
‘Awesome. Look forward to it. Already coming up with a few more.’
Olivia shook her head. She should have accepted April’s offer to help.
While she waited, she called the chemist near her store and asked if someone could whip up a quick sign to stick on her shop window to say she’d be there to open up ASAP. Thankfully, with their multiple staff and early opening hours, someone was glad to help.
She heard a car’s engine abating. Footsteps, the jiggling of the latch on the side gate, then laughter as he came into view.
‘Oh, Olivia, look at you. Classic!’ He reached into his pocket.
‘Don’t you dare take a photo!’
‘But don’t you want to remember this moment years later when your grandkids want to write your life story? You’ll have photographic evidence.’
‘Certainly not. Now get me out or I’ll boycott your class and tell everyone you’re a terrible teacher.’ Her thighs were really aching now.
‘Alright, but first … an explanation?’
She sighed. ‘I was just doing something different.’
‘That’s for sure,’ he
said. ‘From pancake shapes to wedging yourself in a window. Great progress, I’m impressed!’
She turned away from his mocking and sighed again.
‘Okay, I’ll stop. I can see you’re a bit over the whole thing.’ He approached and inspected the situation.
‘I just wanted to climb out a window. Like my grandma did when she was young, that’s all. I’ve never done it, and when I came back home to get Mia’s lunch, I thought what the heck, I’ll give it a go. Stupid huh?’
‘Not at all. Actually, I am impressed with how dedicated you’re being with this whole new experience stuff. And honouring your grandma’s life. So you got stuck in a window along the way, big deal. Next week this won’t even matter. Life moves on. Even wedgies don’t last forever.’ He grinned. Then he looked closer at her thighs. ‘Is that?’
‘Hand cream. My fantastic solution. Great help that load of gunk was.’
‘At least your pants will be soft.’ He placed two of his fingers onto her thigh near the cable, trying to edge them between it.
‘Well this is … awkward,’ she said.
‘Not for me.’
What did he mean by that?
‘If I can just … get … some room between, see if you can wriggle down further. Otherwise give me your keys and I’ll go into the house and help you from there. Or I’ll get a screwdriver and undo the screws on the window cable so I can lift the pane out further.’ He fiddled a bit and a slight giggle erupted from her mouth.
‘Laughing at yourself now?’
‘No, I was just thinking … do you think I could write my own survival memoir? Maybe something like … One More Try, or One More Phone Call, or …’ She glanced at his face, trying to read his expression. ‘Sorry, that was probably in bad taste. I didn’t mean to downplay what you went through, I was just trying to make light of things.’
‘Oh, no probs. No offence taken. I was just trying to think of a better title. Like … One More Squirt Of Hand Cream, or One More Joke From Joel.’
This time she laughed properly. ‘And I thought this day couldn’t get any more weird and ridiculous.’
‘Here we go,’ he grunted, as he wound the cable to its limit and held it tight. ‘When I yank it, see if you can slip through. He yanked, and she wriggled down further, warmth flooding her skin where her thigh had been jammed. She was still kind of wedged, but her feet touched the ground. ‘Almost there. Now, move further through as I …’ He pushed the flesh of her thigh against his palm, separating it from the cable as much as possible, while holding the window pane out as much as possible. ‘If I get a splinter, you’re shouting me a pack of Band-Aids,’ he said.
‘Of course.’ She smiled, wriggling further down, feeling the release as she manoeuvred through the gap, then angled her torso through to slip underneath the pane. ‘Oh thank God,’ she said.
‘You can just call me Joel.’
She whacked him on the arm. ‘Very funny. But thank you.’ She adjusted her clothing, and trying to be discreet, her wedgie. ‘Oh man, I have to get to the school and work.’ She grabbed her bag and Mia’s lunch. ‘I’m late.’
‘Can I help?’
She shook her head, an automatic motherly reaction that made her feel like she could handle everything herself. ‘It’s okay.’
‘You sure? Why don’t I go and open your store for you, at least so any customers can wander in and browse. I’ll keep them talking and use my old sales powers of persuasion to make them spend a hundred bucks, minimum.’ He gave a confident nod.
‘You don’t have to. I’ll just be a bit late. Might not even get any customers until later.’
‘Gimme,’ he said, his hand out. ‘Keys. You go to the school. I’ll open the store, turn lights on, and that will save you at least a minute when you do arrive. I promise I won’t grab an armful of books and do a runner.’ His palm remained open in front of her.
She chuckled and handed him the keys to the store. ‘Fair enough, but if you move all your books to the front and block the entrance so people have to see them when they walk in, I’m …’
‘Boycotting my class and telling everyone I’m a terrible teacher.’
‘I was going to say moving all your books to the clearance bin, but that too.’
‘You can trust me,’ he said.
‘Okay. Off you go. I’ll see you there once I’ve …’ she glanced at her pants. ‘Changed, and closed the window from the inside, and exited my house in the most normal and boring way possible.’
‘Done. See you soon, daredevil.’ He winked, walked off and out the gate.
She glanced at her watch. This was going to be one long and interesting day.
Chapter 17
Joel was still smiling when he opened up the community hall that night. He’d thought that if he were to get up close and personal with a woman’s thighs while in Tarrin’s Bay, Olivia’s at that, it would be for other reasons than helping to pry her from the grip of an old window.
He set up his projector and laptop, aimed the light at the screen, and prepared the PowerPoint slides for tonight’s class, which was all about bringing the past into the present—how to integrate a person’s earlier life experiences into the main storyline to show how they had an impact.
Writing this lesson had made Joel think a lot about his own past. Without the challenges he’d been through, he would not have become the person he was, and may possibly never have been in the life-threatening position he’d been in, nor become a bestselling memoir author. It blew his mind how one event triggered another, and then another, and before you knew it life was like a series of falling dominos, the momentum unstoppable until the last one fell.
Olivia was making the Tarrin’s Bay domino rather interesting, and fun. He hated to be idle, and helping her with her book-worthy moments was filling his spare time with something different for himself. If he went all out, and if they had more time, her book-worthy moments list and experiences could potentially become a memoir in itself. He mentally reminded himself to put the idea out there to her, if only to give an example of how ideas can be generated, and life can be made the most of. He knew she was busy focusing on her grandma’s book, not to mention spending as much time with her as possible before her last domino would fall.
He simply hoped these experiences would add some lighthearted fun to her life while she was under all this extra pressure. He’d be gone in a few weeks, and though he sometimes found himself wanting to create some other experiences with her, he knew it was pointless because he’d be gone soon and she didn’t need the distraction. He was inexplicably attracted to her, but she deserved someone better than him. He wouldn’t stay, he knew he wouldn’t. Life called for him in multiple directions, and he would always follow. He loved the relaxed pace and beautiful landscape here, but staying put in small-town life was not his thing.
When the room was set up, he sat on the edge of the desk and opened the browser on his phone. After his next course further south in a few months, he’d go and explore up north in Queensland, create some new adventures of the tropical kind. Not the touristy things, he’d done all them. He’d started bookmarking websites and making lists of unique experiences he wanted to explore up there. The next phase of his journey was taking shape, and he couldn’t wait.
But for now, time to help others with their own journeys.
The door opened and Mr Donovan walked in, gradually followed by the rest of the class. Olivia was last; she entered with a hint of pink on her cheeks and quickly diverted her gaze from his as she took her seat. It was so cute, he couldn’t help but smile.
‘Why are you so happy tonight, Mr F?’ asked Dylan.
Joel glanced toward the shark-attack survivor whose opening pages of his memoir had captivated him completely. ‘Happy? Hmm, I’m breathing, I’m living the dream, I’m spending the evening with you fascinating lot.’ He held up his hands and glanced around. ‘And I had a great day, surfing, walking, and rescuing the odd damsel in distress.’
He
couldn’t resist.
He glanced her way, and her cheeks flamed red.
‘Yeah?’ asked Dylan. ‘Like, did you help an old lady cross the road?’
‘Nah, helped a young lady escape the clutches of an evil monster made of wood and metal.’
‘I’m confused,’ said Mr Donovan. ‘What exactly are you talking about?’
‘It was touch and go for a while, but I managed to set her free and avoid injury myself. We were lucky. I think the damsel only suffered a few minor bruises, but I can’t be sure because she wouldn’t show me.’
‘Sounds intriguing,’ said Olivia, which surprised him, because he thought she would stay quiet and wait for the topic to be finished, even though no one knew he was talking about her. ‘I’m sure the damsel was very grateful for your help, but I’m guessing she may not appreciate her predicament being discussed in a public forum.’
‘Maybe not. But,’ Joel said, raising his finger and walking across the front of the room. ‘It’s yet another example of how to draw a reader in. Dylan wanted to know what happened, Mr D was confused, and so as readers, they would want to keep reading to find out what happened.