Memories of May Page 3

  The muted grey-blue sky beyond the trees smoothed out his thoughts, freed his mind, and allowed his chest to expand with fresh air. He took in the peace, calm, and freedom for a few minutes, then lifted his backpack off and unzipped it, a bird flapping away from a nearby tree and into the sky.

  At the sight of his sandwich his stomach growled again. He unwrapped it and took a large bite. He finished it in a flash, and ignored the slight ache that had developed in the top of his right calf muscle as he took a few gulps of water. ‘Time to keep moving.’ He stood and replaced his backpack.

  He didn’t care if talking to himself was considered crazy. With many hours spent alone while travelling and hiking, he’d grown used to his own company. And talking to himself had proved invaluable when he’d needed someone but had no one. When his life had been on the line. When all he’d had to rely on was his thoughts, his mind, and a choice.

  He chose.

  He survived.

  And if he could survive that, could save his own life, then he could also handle a simple lunch and coffee with a beautiful woman tomorrow without getting tempted and distracted while enjoying a temporary stay in Tarrin’s Bay. Couldn’t he?

  * * *

  Joel wandered down the main street, past shops and cafes and people and found Café Lagoon, its flowing layout and blue-green painted walls like walking into a refreshing watery natural environment, apart from the tables and chairs. He scanned the café … where was the pretty caramel-and-vanilla-haired woman with eight syllables?

  ‘Hey, mate. What can I get for you?’

  Joel met the glance of the young dude at the counter. ‘G’day. I’m just waiting for someone first.’

  ‘No worries. And just so you know, our organic burgers are on special today for half price when you order two. So if your friend wants a burger, it’s a great deal.’ He flashed a grin.

  ‘Awesome. I’d love a burger. But I’ll wait and see what my charming companion would prefer.’

  ‘Oh, charming eh? Girlfriend?’

  ‘Nah, a potential student of my writing course.’

  ‘You’re the guy who wrote that survival story, right? Except that it was real, not a story.’

  ‘That would be me.’

  ‘So cool,’ the dude said. ‘I went travelling and did some hiking, but don’t know what I would have done in your situation. I’m glad you’re here to tell the tale. Good on you, mate.’

  He held out his hand and Joel shook it. ‘Thanks … Jonah,’ he said, eyeing his nametag.

  ‘Does your charming companion have a name?’

  ‘Olivia.’

  ‘Oh really? From Mrs May’s?’

  Joel nodded.

  ‘Well I don’t think she’ll have a burger. She’ll have the organic chicken salad or the soup of the day.’

  ‘A regular, huh?’

  ‘Like most of the fellow shop-owners in town.’

  ‘So,’ said Joel, ‘how do all the other cafes survive if you guys are the go-to place?’

  ‘Ah, we all have our specialties and people have different tastes, and there are a lot of hungry people around, I guess.’

  Joel nodded again. Another customer came up and Joel gestured for the person to go ahead of him. While he waited for Olivia, he eyed the pictures on the wall around the cafe, including an autographed poster from Aussie singer Drew Williams. There was also a framed plate with knife and fork, the plate signed in black permanent marker by a television chef. At the back of the café was a slightly raised area that looked like it was set up for live performances, and judging by another poster advertising a local singer and guitarist, his assumption was correct. Hmm … Maybe he could enquire about doing a talk here for his book one day. He could ask his publicist about it and see what she thought.

  No longer did his life simply revolve around his next adventure, it also revolved around his marketing and public profile, since being interviewed on television had catapulted his book to the bestseller lists and made him an in-demand motivational speaker. The great thing was, it helped fund his adventures. Before, he had had to live as simply as possible to save money, and do whatever odd job he could find to accumulate enough to live on. Nine to five wasn’t his thing, even though he’d done it for a while to make ends meet. Not only had his survival experience given him a second chance at life, it had given him a new kind of life, one he hadn’t expected and was forever grateful for.

  ‘Hi, sorry I’m late!’ Joel turned to see Olivia approach the counter with a flushed pink face as she blew a wisp of hair from across her eye with a puff from between her lips. ‘A customer wanted my supposed expert opinion on two different cookbooks even though they were both very similar, and I suggested buying both of course—well, why not!—but she only wanted one, so she had me Googling the benefits of low-fat versus low-sugar eating and …’ She took a breath.

  ‘No problem.’ Joel placed his hand gently on her forearm, at the junction of her sleeve, which was cool and soft, and her skin, which was warm and also soft. ‘I’m in no rush.’ He smiled.

  Olivia smiled and exhaled a breath of apparent relief. She glanced towards Jonah and nodded a smile.

  ‘So let me guess, organic chicken salad or soup of the day?’ Joel asked.

  Her large greenish-brown eyes widened. ‘How did you guess?’

  ‘Psychic.’

  ‘I’m sure.’ She chuckled.

  ‘But I’m hoping to convince you to try something new.’

  ‘Something new? Why?’

  ‘When was the last time you tried something new?’

  She looked at him like he was asking her when she last went bungy jumping.

  ‘I like chicken salad. I like soup.’

  ‘What about a burger?’

  She crinkled her nose a little.

  ‘They’re organic too. And half price when you order two, so that makes it buy one get one free, and I’ll pay and you can have the free one. But if you have the salad or the soup, I’m not paying.’ He grinned.

  Her eyes opened wider again and she let out a surprised laugh. ‘It’s okay, I can pay for my own. I don’t expect special treatment, and maybe I should be shouting you since you’re going to be listening to my book idea.’

  ‘Not at all. Have the burger and I’ll pay for your free one.’ He chuckled. ‘Maybe even a drink if you’re lucky.’ He held out his hand. She glanced at it and hesitated. ‘It’s just one burger. Live dangerously.’

  ‘I take it that’s your motto,’ she phrased it as a statement, then gently shook his hand. ‘Burger it is. But no fries,’ she said as she glanced at Jonah, who he hadn’t realised was witnessing their exchange.

  ‘Two burgers thanks, mate,’ Joel said, adding their drink orders and handing him the cash. He took a table number—three, his birthdate and birth month. He glanced around and waited for Olivia to choose a table. She led him to one in the back corner.

  ‘Quieter over here,’ she said. He raised his eyebrows suggestively and she added, ‘So no one overhears my book plans and I can hear you above the loud hearing-impaired couple, Mr and Mrs Rogers,’ she gestured near the front of the café then whispered, ‘they speak so loudly I can’t hear myself think.’

  ‘If they’re hearing impaired then why are you whispering?’ he whispered as they took their seats.

  Olivia’s cheeks went pinker. ‘I don’t know,’ she whispered even more quietly as a smile tried to escape, but it looked like she wouldn’t let it fully develop. ‘Maybe so other people can’t hear me talking about them. It’s a small town, people eavesdrop and gossip.’

  ‘I’ll put on my indoor voice,’ he said.

  She laughed; a short and sweet, cute little laugh. ‘I always have to tell my daughter to put on her indoor voice, sometimes she gets a little overenthusiastic.’

  ‘That’s good.’

  ‘Not when you’re tired and want some peace and quiet.’ She smiled.

  ‘True, but enthusiasm is a trait to be encouraged. What is life if you can�
��t be enthused about something? What do you get enthused about?’ he asked.

  She tilted her head slightly and studied his eyes. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Like, what are you passionate about? What gets you fired up?’

  She responded with a blank stare.

  ‘Haven’t you ever become so excited about something you can hardly contain yourself?’

  She glanced upwards, then said, ‘Not really. Oh, but some books are so good that I get quite excited by them. And when my favourite chocolate is on special, I love having a treat at the end of the week.’

  She was absolutely adorable, but so … plain. He had only spent time with women who shared his passion for excitement and adventure. At least, they were the only ones who took his interest. Olivia was intriguing, but not really his type. Which was good, because he wasn’t here to date, he was here to work, then move on. And he wasn’t even sure if she had a partner, but from the sounds of things she didn’t have time for one.

  She straightened up in her chair and tucked some of her wavy hair behind her ear, as though sensing his appraisal of her personality. ‘You think I’m boring.’

  ‘Boring? What? No, of course not.’

  ‘Yes you do. I don’t hike or travel or have interesting stories to tell like you.’

  Joel raised his palms. ‘I didn’t say anything.’

  ‘But let me tell you, I work damn hard raising my daughter on my own and running the store, I have a lot of responsibility and no time for indulging in … in … experiences that take me away from what I should be doing.’

  Okay, so definitely no partner. ‘Hey, hey, no judgement here. I can tell you do an amazing job. I was just wondering what else you’re passionate about. But while we’re on the topic, if you don’t have any interesting stories to tell, is that why you want to write your grandma’s stories? Because you feel they’re more interesting than your own?’

  She crossed her arms, and her small silver necklace and pendant shimmered against her porcelain-skin chest. ‘No, I’m doing it to preserve our family history and honour my grandma’s memory, not because of the idea of living vicariously through someone else’s interesting life.’

  Joel leaned back and exhaled. ‘Okay, okay, let’s start again, shall we?’

  She sighed and uncrossed her arms. ‘Yes, let’s.’

  ‘I’m Joel.’ He held out his hand and she shook it. ‘I tend to say what’s on my mind, life is too short not to. But I never said you were boring. In fact, I think you’re intriguing. For example, I’d like to know what brand of chocolate is your favourite, and just how much do you eat in one go? Because I can devour a whole block in one hit, easy. And what books do you like reading the most? I never used to read much until I wrote my own, now I like the odd biography or novel.’

  Her face softened and she took a sip of water. ‘A whole block in one go too sometimes. But not always. Only if I really need it.’

  ‘Chocolate is always needed,’ he said.

  She smiled and nodded. ‘I like your thinking.’ Her face lit up more brightly than before. She leaned in closer to the table. ‘You know, sometimes I’m a really bad mother and I hide the chocolate from Mia—she’s my daughter—so I can eat it all.’

  ‘Wow, you are so bad. No mother of the year award for you.’ He shook his head and narrowed his eyes.

  ‘And if she asks if I have any left, sometimes I …’ she glanced around then leaned in closer, ‘sometimes I even … lie.’ She almost choked on the word, and Joel laughed.

  ‘Oh no. What hope is there for the future generation when parents are so negligent? Seriously, I think I should report you to family services.’

  She chuckled and took another sip. ‘But really, I am a nice mother too, and I do give her my chocolate sometimes, but occasionally if I only have the one and I know I really need it, well, what can I do?’ She held out her hands and raised her thinly arched eyebrows.

  ‘A happy mother makes for a happy child,’ he said, and she gave a firm nod.

  Jonah brought out their burgers and Joel smiled in amusement as Olivia opened her mouth wide to take a bite.

  ‘So undignified,’ she said with a chuckle. ‘Eating with one’s hands.’

  ‘Its how it always used to be done.’

  ‘It’s just so …’ She swiped a glob of mayonnaise from her bottom lip. ‘Messy.’

  ‘Messy food is the best food.’ He took a huge bite of his own burger.

  She moved her hand around as she chewed, as though preparing to say something. ‘So, I haven’t read your book yet, sorry. But I will. I only know the basics of what happened to you. Sounds like it was pretty intense.’

  He nodded. ‘You never know what’ll go through your mind when you think you’re going to die, until it actually happens.’ His mind did that thing where it catapulted back in time to that day, that day he thought would be his last. The thoughts he had to endure, the realisation that this may be all his life had amounted to. It had been hard to revisit those thoughts while writing his memoir, but necessary, and with the help of his psychologist, he’d been able to tap into them again safely without getting too deeply embroiled in a mental place he didn’t really want to visit again.

  Olivia went quiet, nodding slowly.

  ‘Anyway, not exactly the best lunchtime discussion. Onto your book.’ He took a sip of coffee. She stayed quiet. ‘Olivia?’

  ‘Sorry.’ She swatted her hand in front of her. ‘It’s just I never thought of that, what you said. That you never know what will go through your mind until it happens. Do you think that’s the same with elderly people? Even if they’re not in any immediate danger, but know their time is coming to an end?’

  Ah, her grandma. ‘I’m sure thoughts do start to crop up that they don’t expect. Maybe they always felt like they’d have longer, like time flies so fast. Or maybe some feel like they’ve been around forever and are like “hurry up!”’ he joked, then lightly touched her hand. ‘Oh, sorry, that sounded better in my head. Sorry. Your grandma … how is she?’

  ‘She’s stable, but may only last another month or two, they think; six at the most if she’s lucky.’

  ‘And you were wondering what thoughts she might be thinking.’

  She nodded. ‘She’s been talking a bit, about the past. Mentioned some guy’s name we’d never heard of, so I don’t know if she’s losing it or there are things playing on her mind that she’s never discussed before.’

  ‘Ask her. Don’t have any regrets. If she’s well enough to talk, then let her talk. Take notes, let her tell her stories while she can. Untold stories shouldn’t die with the body.’ He was so glad his hadn’t.

  ‘That’s the plan.’ She pressed her lips together into a smile that spoke more of resolve than of happiness.

  ‘So tell me,’ Joel said, his burger half gone and his stomach relaxing in satisfaction. ‘What is the main hook for your story? I know your grandma built up a successful business and probably started it during a time when there was great struggle for people to get by after the war, so apart from the adversity to success theme, is there anything else that sets your book apart from other similar books?’

  She opened her bag and fiddled with a notebook. ‘Um, well I’m not really sure yet, but I think it’s about not only business success, but also a woman’s personal journey to create her own life rather than follow one that was expected of her.’

  Joel clasped his hands together for a moment under his chin. ‘Hmm. Sounds like you are pretty sure. That sounds like an interesting angle.’

  ‘Is it enough though? I mean, it’s enough for me, for us as a family, but I don’t know if the book would have a market or anything, and I’m not doing it for commercial success, but of course if people would find it interesting then I would definitely try to get it published and share Mrs May’s story with a larger audience than just our family and friends.’

  ‘What have you got so far?’ He snatched the notebook from her hands and she gasped.

&
nbsp; ‘Hey! I’m not ready to show anyone yet!’ She tried and failed to take it back.

  He held it up above his meal. ‘It’s okay, I won’t read any without your permission, I just wanted you to see what it could feel like to have your words read by another person.’ He grinned. ‘Scary, isn’t it?’

  She shook her head. ‘Oh you, you like to tease, don’t you.’

  ‘It’s fun.’

  ‘Can I have it back, pretty please?’

  He held it towards her and she took it with both hands, holding it to her chest.

  ‘Part of my course is about getting used to other people reading your work. You’d have to share some stuff, would you be okay with that?’

  She shrugged. ‘I guess, since all the students would be in the same boat.’

  ‘Then I think you should definitely join the class.’

  ‘But you’ve hardly heard anything about my book yet.’

  ‘Don’t need to. I can see it in your eyes; the need, the purpose, the urgency, the desire to do this and do it justice. This, my dear, is what you are enthused about. Forget about reading other books and your favourite chocolate on special, this is what you need to do, not only for your grandma, but for yourself.’

  ‘Oh, you’re putting on a sales pitch aren’t you?’

  ‘Nope, just being honest.’ He leaned back and threaded his hands behind his head. ‘And I have a feeling …’

  ‘What sort of feeling?’ She eyed him with a curious glance.

  ‘That by writing this book about a woman who created her own life instead of one that was expected of her, you might just do the same for yourself.’

  Chapter 4

  The man was right. How could he tell so much about her without having known her very long? Was she that easy to read? Memories of May was the only thing that stood out from her day-to-day routine, the only thing that had played on her mind for long enough to take up residence as a niggling idea and goal that for some reason would not go away. She hadn’t thought about how it related to her own life, but he was right. She did want something else to be enthused about, something out of the ordinary to put energy into, not just for someone else, but for herself. She had her daughter, her family, her store, her health, and a few close friends, but what else? What did she have that was worth writing about if her future granddaughter was to tell her story? Yes, she’d done well as a single mother for over nine years, but plenty of women did that, it was almost the norm these days. She hadn’t known that her out-of-character one-night stand on one New Year’s Eve would become a lifetime of responsibility. In life, you had to do what needed to be done, and so she’d done it.