Man Drought (27 page)

She had all of three seconds to prepare before Gibson folded himself gracefully into the chair beside her and greetings were exchanged all around. She couldn’t even look at him, so scared was she that Amy and Jenna would be watching her every move and analysing each tiny flutter of her eyelashes. Her hands began to shake and she tightened her hold on the baby. She was happy she’d told her friends – getting
that
off her chest felt like a heavy load had been lifted – but it meant they’d be watching her and Gibson like hawks.

Conversation ebbed and flowed around her, but Imogen couldn’t have relayed what was discussed. She remained quiet, subconsciously rocking along to the background music as her gaze constantly flicked to the bar, looking for an excuse to escape. After about half an hour, the pub began to fill and Imogen stood. Likely Cal and Charlie had everything under control, but she wouldn’t be taking her role seriously if she didn’t make sure. She passed baby Gibson back to Amy and fled to the bar.

‘Need help?’ Imogen asked Cal.

‘Actually, yes, sorry.’ She sounded unusually flustered. Imogen followed her employee’s gaze to see Charlie with a long line of untouched drinks on the bar in front of him.

She frowned. ‘Problems?’

‘You could say that,’ Cal sighed. ‘He’s getting everyone’s drinks mixed up. The locals are being tolerant, but those contractors we have staying are starting to get pissed about it. If you could just help me clear the crowds, then I should be able to handle it again.’

Cal could handle it on her own, but she shouldn’t have to. Imogen served one man who was tapping dirty fingernails on the wood of the bar and then scooted along to Charlie.

‘Hey mate,’ she began, racking her mind for the most tactful words for what she needed to say. ‘Do you mind going and entertaining my guests? Ryan would love to hear your farming stories – he’s had enough of Gibson and Guy’s.’ And even if he hadn’t, he’d have to put up with it. Imogen couldn’t afford mistakes on her busiest night of the week.

Charlie seemed to be deliberating, so Imogen batted her eyelashes for effect. She let out a sigh of relief when he headed to the table armed with another round of drinks and the dinner menu.

She’d have to talk to Gibson about him again, but was it wrong to be happy about his forgetfulness just this once? Wrong to use it as an excuse to get away from the awkwardness she’d felt sitting there with Gibson and her friends? Whatever the answer, she knew one thing for sure.

She wanted her friends back in the city so she could have Gibson all to herself again.

It was Friday morning, exactly seven days before the Man Drought weekend. Although the days were crazy busy, Imogen found time to nurture her little crush. It had taken a while to get her head around it – there’d been a few tears and much staring at Jamie’s photo before she’d admitted it to herself – but now she was getting used to the idea. She was ready to move on. Really move on.

Maybe there wasn’t just
one
perfect person for everyone.

Once that thought had seeded itself in her head, there was no going back. Gibson consumed her thoughts, so that she had to make a mammoth effort to focus on other things. The times he swaggered into the pub, smiled his country-boy grin and ordered a beer had become the highlights of her days. And the best thing? He’d popped in a couple of times when Charlie wasn’t even rostered to chat and check that Imogen had everything under control for the weekend. He’d even offered his help
as an extra barman. Talk about a turnaround! Not that she was complaining. Not. At. All.

Over coffee, they’d discussed everything from Charlie to their parents, their favourite movies, and foods they wouldn’t eat if they were paid to. Time in his company flew by and she felt as close to him as she did to Jenna and Amy, yet she hadn’t garnered the courage to confess her feelings. He’d sleep with her again in a second – of that she was certain – but she didn’t believe he could offer more. If only she could get to the bottom of his marriage issues.

‘Penny for them?’ Pauli passed through the bar on her way to the kitchen ready to start her shift.

‘Just wondering what you were making for lunch,’ Imogen lied, rubbing her tummy for effect.

Pauli’s eyes lit up. ‘Cal gave me the recipe for her Mexican soup. I thought I’d give it a try alongside the usual lunchtime pies.’

‘Give what a try?’

Imogen and Pauli turned. As if her thoughts had summoned him, Gibson stood in the doorway looking his usual version of ruggedly handsome.

‘It’s a secret, good-looking.’ Pauli wriggled her eyebrows before continuing on her way.

‘Wipe that smile off your face.’ Imogen pretended to be stern. ‘She only said that because you shower her with compliments about her cooking. Now, what can I do for you today?’

‘Actually, it’s what I can do for you. Charlie said there was a wobbly post on the verandah, and, well,’ he held up his hands, ‘I had a few moments to spare.’

Of course she smiled. He had that effect. ‘Fabulous. Thank you. I’ll bring you out a coffee.’

While Gibson got busy with nails and a hammer, Imogen switched on the coffee machine. She made his usual long black and made herself a latte. Despite having a load of paperwork to
get through, she couldn’t see the harm in one drink with the handyman.

Carrying two takeaway cups outside, she paused as she stepped onto the verandah. He was at the other end, tool belt wrapped around his torso as he reached up to steady the top of the post.

She found herself fantasising again. An image popped into her head: a sweet boy (or girl, she wasn’t fussy) with her eyes and his dark-chocolate hair. If only she could thaw his frosty heart, they’d make beautiful babies. The thought caused her lips to lift and her heart to flutter, until reality landed. She’d always had a terrible habit of getting ahead of herself.

‘Do I get to drink that coffee before it gets cold?’ he turned to look at her.

‘Not if I throw it over you first,’ she said, walking to join him and give him the coffee.

‘Settle Gretel,’ he growled, but his lips twisted into a smile.

They sipped in silence for a while, and then he mentioned that the rest of the posts could probably do with replacing too.

She groaned. ‘I’ll add it to the list.’ By now she should have been used to the fact that where old buildings were concerned, there were always more things to be done. The slab party volunteers had done a fabulous job, but most of their work had been surface stuff.

‘I’m starting seeding soon, but after that, I’m happy to do it. It won’t take much.’

‘Thanks, I’ll pay you for it.’

He waved her suggestion away with his hand. ‘Don’t be silly. But speaking of payment, I know Charlie’s not been the best employee lately and Karen mentioned you might be looking for an extra staff member.’

She nodded. ‘But it’s not only because of Charlie,’ she rushed. ‘We’re getting busier. I want the safety net in case any of us get sick.’

‘Can you afford the extra staff member?’ he asked.

They both knew she wouldn’t let Charlie go if she could help it, but she’d decided to make sure there were more bar staff rostered on at the same time as him, just in case.

She tried for a carefree shrug. ‘I think so. Business has really picked up lately. I was thinking about it anyway.’

He took another sip of his coffee, then said, ‘Let me pay Charlie’s wages for the time being.’

‘No.’ Her objection was loud. ‘I don’t need—-’

He held his hand up and cut her off. ‘Please. Let me do this. Just until I’ve got him to the doctor and we know what’s happening. I want to help.’

She frowned, but she could see his point. ‘Okay.’ She downed the rest of her coffee and heard the paperwork beckoning. ‘Guess I’d better do some work. Yell if you need anything.’

As she turned, he reached out and touched her arm. Her heart jolted at the contact. ‘Thanks for understanding,’ he said, looking seriously into her eyes. ‘And Imogen?’

‘Yes.’ Her mouth went dry.

‘Please don’t tell Charlie about our arrangement.’

Her heart sunk. He was stuck on Charlie – rightly so – where she still had her head in the clouds.

‘I won’t,’ she promised. ‘And you’re so welcome.’

Gibson listened to the Sunday morning radio show on ABC Radio as Charlie dozed in the passenger seat beside him. They were headed to Perth for the AFL game – Dockers versus Eagles – and his heart was light with anticipation. He hadn’t been to an actual game in years. The road was long and straight, giving him plenty of time to think, much like the long hours on a tractor during seeding and harvesting.

He glanced at Charlie. Although he was still a strapping, bulky
man, he’d appeared frailer lately. What Gibson couldn’t tell was if this was real or whether Charlie’s strange behaviour was making him look at his grandfather differently. He thought of the man he used to be – always on the go, taking Gibson and Paris out to football games or camping up on Lookout hill. Most of his childhood memories involved his grandfather in some way. When Charlie was gone – and he knew this would happen eventually – that was the man he wanted to remember. Today was about creating new memories on the strong foundations of old ones.

As they got closer to Perth, his thoughts drifted from Charlie to his parents, then to the farm, and finally came to rest on Imogen.
Imogen!
Even her name made him feel good – a simple rush to the head: better than beer, better than a rollercoaster, better than sex. No, not better than sex with her. That one episode topped the charts where his sex life was concerned. Maybe it was because she’d been the first after a long drought, but something told him otherwise.

When he thought of Imogen now, sex wasn’t the foremost thing in his mind. Thinking about their interaction yesterday, he couldn’t help but grin at the way she’d threatened to throw his coffee all over him. He almost wished she had. Then he’d have had a stellar excuse to throw her over his shoulder and spank her. But that episode wasn’t unique – things were always like that between them now. Sparks flying, but both of them too conscious of the boundaries to follow through.

Yes. Boundaries, Gibson. Hold on to those boundaries.

Charlie stirred and Gibson pounced on the opportunity for conversation. ‘Good sleep, Granddad?’

‘I wasn’t sleeping,’ Charlie said gruffly. ‘Just closing my eyes to block out the sun.’

‘Of course.’ Gibson chuckled. He loved that Charlie would never admit to any human weakness – not that sleeping was a weakness – but he knew this character trait might cause issues soon. Maybe
he should have broached the subject of the doctor now, while they were in the car and Charlie couldn’t escape.

Before he had the chance, Charlie said, ‘You’re not thinking of taking me to see your parents, are you? Wouldn’t want to spoil a good day.’

Gibson blinked. A visit to his folks hadn’t crossed his mind. ‘Course not. This day is about you and me.’ He decided not to say anything else. If he told Charlie his fears, the day would be over before it had even begun.

Charlie smiled and looked out the window as the city came into view.

Soon they’d parked the car and were trekking towards Subiaco Oval, joining the hordes of excited supporters all decked out in brightly coloured fan-wear – purple and white for the Dockers, and blue and gold for the Eagles. Gibson stayed close to Charlie, making sure he wasn’t knocked over in the rush to get through the gates and up into the stands.

Gibson had supported the Eagles since the eighties, as had his grandfather. But when the Dockers were founded in 1994, Charlie switched his loyalties, saying that Fremantle had always been in his blood. Gibson was only a boy at the time, but already believed that you chose a team and stuck to it. The rivalry had been a sore point between them since.

When they found their seats, they seemed to be the only pair that had come together that were wearing different coloured scarves. Charlie leaned forward in his plastic seat and rubbed his forehead.

‘You all right, Granddad?’ Gibson asked.

Charlie sat up straight. ‘Fine. What’s the time? When’s the game start?’

Like a child, Charlie didn’t see why they should wait for the stadium to fill or for the official start time. They were here, and as far as he was concerned, that was all that mattered. He was really starting to get agitated when the siren finally sounded. Relieved, Gibson flopped back into his chair, amped to watch the game.

The Eagles scored the first four goals, but then the Dockers came into their own. By the end of the first quarter, the score was a rare equal.

‘Come on!’ Charlie screamed when the Eagles repelled a promising attack early in the second quarter, and a first-gamer smothered a kick to stop a certain goal. His neck veins bulged as he shook his fists in the air, but the intent look on his face and his all-out grin when the Dockers finally scored again told Gibson his granddad was having a blast.

The score was neck and neck and both teams were playing the best they’d played for a long time, so Gibson couldn’t believe it when, five minutes before halftime, Charlie insisted he fetch him a pie.

‘What? Can’t it wait?’ Gibson’s eyes remained on the field where two opposing players were in a tangle over the ball. This was like asking him to go get popcorn during the climax of a movie.

‘I’m starving,’ Charlie replied. He rubbed his belly. ‘Starting to get dizzy.’

That had Gibson leaping out of his chair. The last thing he wanted was Charlie fainting in the middle of an overcrowded stadium. Grumbling under his breath, he squeezed past angry fans to get to the exit.

When he emerged, the area that housed the restrooms and refreshment stands was deserted except for the stadium staff and a pregnant woman coming out of the ladies’. As he and the woman approached each other from opposite directions, he glanced her way, intending to offer a friendly smile, but stopped short in his tracks.

‘Serena?’ Whether he’d meant to say her name aloud or not he didn’t know, but she stopped and looked up from where she’d been typing something on a mobile phone. One hand went to rest on her belly.

‘Gibson! So good to see you.’ She sounded happier to see him than he was to see her. She stashed the phone in her bag and rushed forward to give him a hug. The embrace was uncomfortable, not least because of the massive bump protruding between them.

Finally, she stepped back slightly, her hands still on his arms as she looked him over. ‘You’re looking fabulous,’ she said, as if they’d barely been more than acquaintances and hadn’t seen each other since high school.

Grudgingly he told her the same, because pregnancy did suit her. Even if you removed the designer maternity outfit from the equation, she glowed in the way all pregnant women were supposed to.

She finally let him go. ‘So, how’s the farm? How’s your family?’ Her smile was forced and her tone full of fake enthusiasm.

‘Fine,’ he replied, not wanting to encourage her. ‘I see you’re doing well.’

‘Ah. Yes.’ She rubbed her bump, the glow in her cheeks deepening to a guilty blush. Suddenly an awkward silence reigned between them. ‘I suppose you heard I married Grant?’

Grant had been her boyfriend before Gibson; they’d broken up only a few months before Gibson and Serena got together. ‘Yes, I heard. Didn’t hear about that though.’ He nodded towards her stomach and then quickly averted his gaze. ‘Congratulations.’

‘I’m sorry, Gibson.’ She sounded genuine, but he guessed she might be sorrier for the small bit of guilt she harboured than anything else.

‘Ancient history,’ he said. ‘Anyway, I’m supposed to be getting Charlie a pie. Better go.’ He hoped he sounded cool and carefree, because in reality he felt like he’d been kicked in the nuts.

Somehow, he got a pie and a bottle of water for each of them; somehow he made it through the game. The Dockers creamed the Eagles in the second half but Gibson couldn’t summon the energy to care. Charlie had a ball and Gibson told himself that’s what mattered. That was why they’d come. It didn’t matter that he’d seen Serena. He was more than over her.

But Charlie noticed his quietness as they began their journey. ‘What’s up with you? Told you my boys were going to kick the Dockers’ butts, didn’t I?’

Gibson managed a half chuckle and shook his head. ‘I’m fine, Granddad. Things on my mind is all.’

He felt Charlie’s eyes boring into the side of his head. ‘Something happen at the game I missed? You were fine until you went for the food.’

Charlie’s sharp observation made Gibson wonder if they were silly to be worried about him. He also knew his granddad wouldn’t let up. He’d either have to buck up his mood or confess. ‘I ran into Serena,’ he said finally. ‘She’s pregnant.’