Chapter Twenty-Two
It was 2 am when I tiptoed into my house.
I was unaccustomed to such big days and heavy nights that had me traipsing across the countryside and emotionally dragging myself backwards through a hedge. I was exhausted and managed to crash fully clothed into bed. Judging by my numb arm the next morning, I'm pretty certain I never moved, not once.
When you lie to your olds there comes a certain responsibility to follow through the next day. A shadow of paranoia followed my every move. I had some scrambled eggs and a side of guilt for breakfast, trying not to make eye contact with my chatty mum. They grilled me with a myriad of questions, like, "What did you have for tea?", "What movies did you watch?" and "What time did you get home?" I had to think on my feet with my best 'I'm not guilty' responses. My inner monologue was screaming liar! I tried not to choke on my breakfast juice as my conscience laid into me with steel-capped boots. My next point of call was to word up Ellie, and fast. That's if she wasn't too sleep-deprived from last night's escapades.
Ellie's phone rang out, and I was quietly pleased. I wasn't in the mood to chase her down and listen as she retold what an amazing night she'd had. I placed the receiver back on the hook and sighed with relief. Oh well, I'd see her at work. Work, ugh. Still suffering from my own sleep deprivation, I had to really psyche myself up for my afternoon shift. The only thing that kept pushing me through was that Sean and Toby said they would come in and annoy us for some lunch. Every time the front door of the main bar screeched open with its hundred-year-old unoiled hinges, my heart rate spiked with anticipation. Mostly it then plunged just as quickly as my searching eyes saw crusty locals, or nameless tourists, pour through the door.
I had suspected an unbearable afternoon with Ellie's voice ringing in my ears as it usually did the day after her conquests, so when I was met by her with silence that stretched on for an uncharacteristic age, well, I admit, it got the better of me.
"So how was your night last night?" I asked as she fumbled in the linen cupboard with some tablecloths.
Ellie shrugged and offered a weak smile. "It was alright."
"Just alright?" I tipped my head, trying to see her eyes.
She nodded lightly but I saw her chin quiver, and with that, friend mode kicked into gear. Lunch had not officially begun yet, so I ushered Ellie into the ladies' room. I guided her into a cane chair that was wedged in the corner next to the sink and hand dryer. This place was so handy for meltdowns and emergencies.
I sat her down, making sure she didn't bump her head on the hand dryer. "Ellie, what's the matter? Did someone hurt you?" I crouched in front of her.
Her eyes widened. "No, nothing like that, it's just ?" Her voice broke away.
I grabbed her hand to urge her to talk. "Well, what then?"
Her big, blue eyes welled with tears as she looked down at me.
"Why am I always so stupid? It's like I'm floating above my body, and I can see the things I'm doing and hear what I'm saying and I go to scream but nothing comes out."
Had Ellie had a breakthrough during the night? Guilt usually didn't follow Ellie's escapades. "What brought this on?"
The tears began to flow now, and my heart broke for her. Ellie was the rock in our relationship, so seeing her crumble ? well, it really rocked me, no pun intended.
Struggling as to what to do, I grabbed her some toilet paper.
"I saw Stan on the way to work." She took it from me and blew her nose.
I cringed at the thought; this town was far too small. Maybe Ellie wasn't as immune to his presence as she pretended.
"Was he mean to you?"
I imagined Stan giving her the cold shoulder, a death stare, even maybe calling her on a few home truths. After last night, any of those reactions would have been warranted. I felt awful for thinking it.
"That's the thing," she sobbed, "he was really nice to me, lovely in fact. The same Stan, he treated me like nothing had happened. If anything, he stumbled over his words and apologised to me and said that he didn't mean what he said."
Well, yeah, I could have told her that. Oh Stan! Will you ever find out that your maturity in the matter had made such a breakthrough? I wondered.
"So, this Wes guy?" I pressed.
"I don't want to talk about him, I don't even want to think about him, I just want to pretend none of it even happened. Then I don't have to think about what a horrible person I am."
"You're not horrible; you're hard work, I'll admit, but you are the sweetest person I know." I shrugged. "I love you."
"You're the only one." She blew her nose again.
I knew this was coming from deeper wounds, from a family in which she felt like a third wheel to her parents' independent lifestyle.
"And Adam, and we're awesome."
She laughed through her tears. "Yeah, I guess you are pretty awesome."
"Are you sure that Wes guy didn't do anything?"
"No, he was fine. I've had worse. And after seeing Stan this morning, it just made it hit home all the more."
It was right there and then that I, Tess McGee, decided to step up to a challenge, for once. A cunning plan stirred within my brain. It was called Operation Mend Stan. I wouldn't voice my genius; Ellie was still pretty raw and needed some time. I had also seen the hurt and anger in Stan's eyes last night; he could poker face his feelings all he liked, but I knew he would still be angry inside. I would have to proceed with caution, but I knew it was the way to go.
After pacifying Ellie and managing to sneak back into the restaurant away from Melba's scrutiny, I grabbed a heap of serviettes to take into the main bar. What met me there had me grinning from ear to ear. Sean, Ringer, Stan and Toby were all lined up along the bar, throwing beer nuts into each other's mouths.
"You do realise that unwashed, dirty old man hands have been in those nut bowls," I said.
Just as Stan caught the last flying nut he broke out into a coughing fit, spluttering as my words resonated. All eyes swung around to me. But it was Toby's broad boyish smile that really caught my attention. It soon fell into a cringe as the four of them picked up their drinks and washed the beer nuts down, with repulsed shudders. Sean pushed his beer nut bowl away with distaste.
I giggled and plonked down beside them for a spell.
"Heard any good gossip lately?"
Sean straightened. "Apparently some hot footy player is dating some pretty little waitress from the Onslow Hotel. It's quite the scandal." He winked.
My eyes widened, my blood running cold. "Really?"
Sean laughed. "Actually, I have no idea. I've been working all morning." He shrugged. "I didn't get sledged for anything."
"Give it time," Ringer said. "Good gossip needs time to grow and mature, like a fine wine."
"Or a jumper that warms with age," added Toby dryly.
I heard the cool room door fly open, and I quickly hopped off my stool and got back to something that resembled work.
I headed back to the restaurant and brushed past Chris who was carrying a slab in from out back. I paused, then slipped through the partition and turned to the boys, offering some last-minute, friendly advice.
"Remember, boys, hands off your nuts."
Chris almost lost his grip on his cargo. As I slid through and stood behind the partition I could hear the uproarious laughter; Stan had nearly choked on his beer, and I could hear someone pummeling him on the back as he coughed and fought for air. I peeked through the partition, seeing Toby's shoulders vibrating from laughter.
Shaking his head, he turned to Stan. "She is something else."