24. 24
24
Honey
I winced for what felt like the millionth time as Ellie-May sung—no, screamed—the lyrics of a Britney Spears song. We were flying along in her little Mazda—the poor car was covered in dings and scratches from my best friend’s hazardous driving—towards the airport. Kimberley’s flight was still in the air, expected to arrive in half an hour, but with Ellie-May’s driving we could’ve left home ten minutes before the plane was scheduled to land. I’d been using my invisible brake so much my leg was cramping. Ellie-May hated my invisible brake.
I made her feel like a bad driver.
Because I was the problem.
A road trip with Ellie-May was never a dull experience, but she seemed to be happier than ever. With my curiosity humming, I leant forward and twisted the dial to turn the music down to near silence.
‘Hey! Toxic was just about to come on!’ she whined, looking over to me for a scary amount of time until the rumble strip had her dragging the car back onto the highway. I would be driving home. I didn’t need Ellie-May killing a New York Times Bestselling author.
‘Have you been sleeping with Steve?’
‘What? That misogynistic prick who expected me to wear frilly aprons and totter about the house like his mother while he worked the land? Yuck, no!’
I chewed my lip thoughtfully. ‘Well you’re getting treated well by someone .’
Ellie-May gave a dramatic gasp. ‘I can be happy without getting penis!’ She shrunk in the seat at my deadpan look. ‘Okay, so a good penis helps my mood. Is that a crime?’
‘It is when you don’t tell your best friend. The one who knows all the penises that make you happy!’
‘Stop saying penis!’
‘You started it!’
Ellie-May huffed. ‘Well then pick something else?’
I hummed. ‘Dick?’
‘Eh, too Nicki Minaj.’
‘Doodle? Schlong? Old fella?’ I tapped my chin. ‘Carrot, banana, eggplant?’
‘Hm, let’s go with banana.’
I rolled my eyes. ‘Well then whose banana is making your lady salad thrive?’
Ellie-May played with her tongue piercing Something she did when she was feeling awkward or trying to delay a response she didn’t want to give. My curiosity grew, with a little concern blooming alongside it. Ellie-May was an open book. Thanks to her upbringing with loose parents, she didn’t know what shame was. For the first time, my best friend looked … scared.
I swallowed, trying to put moisture into my dry mouth. ‘Is it Colton?’
The car gave a violent jerk and I gripped the dashboard. ‘Colton! That dickhead! That’s your first guess? What sort of best friend do you take me for!?’
‘Well, with the way you’re not spitting it out, what else was I to think? Sheesh!’
Ellie-May calmed down and I leant towards her in anticipation. ‘The visa I applied for got accepted.’
I blinked, confusion buffering my brain. ‘So it’s not because of a banana?’
She gave a weighty sigh. ‘No. You know I’ve been wanting to go to the UK for ages, since we finished school. A few months ago I finally got the lady balls to apply for a working visa and it’s been accepted.’
I threw my head against the headrest, wincing when I remembered I’d opted for a half-up hairstyle with a hair claw. ‘Why didn’t you tell me you’d sent an application?’
Ellie-May groaned. ‘I’ve been dying to tell you. You’ve just had so much going on with your messy love triangle I didn’t want to panic or upset you.’
I smiled at her softly, although my heart sank a little. ‘You should’ve told me. This is huge!’
‘Well, there’s nothing to panic or get upset about yet. I haven’t even booked my flights.’ Ellie-May flapped her hand, bracelets jangling, signalling a change of subject. ‘Anyway, how are you and Beau going? Still on the rocky shores?’
‘Um, yeah, we’re …’
Good, would be a lie. Not that I could lie. Ellie-May could sniff out my lies like Duke when I tried to sneak a snack from the pantry while he dozed. Unemotional, monotonous, dull; they would be accurate definitions of Beau’s and my relationship. Even after my Tailgates bathroom resolution, no matter how hard I tried, I was struggling to find even the smallest of sparks with Beau. And while I always thought he chose to remain oblivious to my frostiness, it seemed that he was catching on. Phone calls were a thing of the past, there was no point when our conversations were distracted and stilted. Our text messages weren’t much better. The emoji were gone—no more hearts, no more kissing faces. And seeing each other in person? Non-existent. Beau was always busy, as was I, or so we said. We told ourselves it was to avoid Colton but I knew we’d hit the stage of avoiding each other. I’d texted Beau one night that I was too busy to go to Double Q Ranch, swamped with creating content while my creative juices were flowing, only to eat half a tub of ice cream as Duke and I curled up with The Big Bang Theory reruns.
Then, there was the sex.
People in happy relationships didn’t fake orgasms just so it could be over. Beau wasn’t the worst lover. In fact, he was the inspiration that romance authors wrote about; the sensitive cowboy who knew exactly what a woman wanted and how to give it. It didn’t matter how much foreplay we did, how he kissed along the column of my neck, licked and tweaked things with textbook precision or how impressive his member was. At the end of every session, amongst sheets which had barely been twisted, I played the act of a shuddering orgasm. Because Beau wasn’t the type to have his own release and roll over. Instead of thinking of the brother trying to bring me pleasure, my mind would wonder to the brother down the hallway. Colton had never struggled with getting me off.
In hindsight, I should’ve heeded that warning.
I sighed and looked out the window. The airport loomed in the distance amongst quivering heat waves. ‘I don’t even know what Beau and I are anymore. We both know the spark has gone. We kind of just play the couple act like a chore. A loveless marriage between two people afraid to get divorced would be an accurate representation.’
‘Honey, I love you, but I’m going to give you a cold reminder. You can’t compare yourself to a loveless marriage, because you’re not married.’ I was thrown against the door of the Mazda as Ellie-May turned off the highway. ‘You don’t even share assets with him. You can cut all ties and walk away. Then when it’s all done, you can come and crash at my place—however long you want. We can eat junk food, watch your favourite sitcoms and read as many books as we like. Of course, Duke can come too.’
‘You make it sound so simple. Which it is. I know it is. I just …’ I chewed at my bottom lip.
Ellie-May glanced over to me as we barrelled down the slip lane. ‘If only Colton hadn’t come back, huh?’
‘Beau and I were already getting rocky long before he returned. Beau doesn’t like the history I have with his brother and makes me feel guilty for something that can’t be changed. It was going to blow up in our faces sooner or later.’ A lump swelled in my throat. ‘I just really hoped it wouldn’t.’
‘Well, let’s try not think of those troublesome Hayes boys.’ The car was whipped into a park—or two—with the angle it was at. ‘We are about to pick up Kimberley Sparks and terrify the farmers of Gumtree Valley when their horny wives get home!’
A giggle burst from me, the rain clouds, which had hovered over my head all week, allowing some of my best friend’s sunshine to break through.
***
I found the whole idea of meeting celebrities strange. People made such a fuss over them, but at the end of the day they were just people. They breathed like us, moved like us and went to the toilet like any commoner. But when people came face to face with them, emotions went crazy. Young girls cried for boy popstars. Some women fainted when a Hollywood A-lister gave them a smile. Men couldn’t splutter a word out when the babe from the nineties comedy they’d watched asked who the signature was to be made out to. I, however, had always thought myself to be slightly better than that. I would treat any celebrity I met with a normalcy most of them craved rather than a starry-eyed fan.
Theory was always simpler.
Like a machine needing a good oiling, my brain ground to a halt, fighting to sputter back to life as I stood in the waiting area with Ellie-May. There were the usual mine workers coming home after a roster away, young kids hugging teddies to their chests while clinging to their parents’ hands and the golden oldies coming to visit grandchildren. So when Kimberley Sparks came through the arrivals gate, she stuck out like a magnificent sore thumb.
The bestselling author looked the same but different in real life compared to the photos from the About the Author section in her books. For one, she was in colour. I’d always imagined her with black hair when it was, in fact, a chocolate brown and blonde ombre. And she was fierce . I imagined all authors to be the cliché of hermits with messy buns, oversized cardigans and rolled up jeans. But Kimberley Sparks was a tall and thin woman with dead straight hair wearing a tight-fitting dress with a thick belt and high heels. She looked more like a lawyer who’d come to work a defamation case against one of the mining companies.
I saw myself walking up to her confidently, extending my hand to her and introducing myself. But instead, Ellie-May was the one to do this, throwing me a wide-eyed look over her shoulder. It turned out I was like a gaping goldfish flapping about on the kitchen bench after the annoying cat had flipped its bowl yet again.
Like someone had dug a stun gun into my back, I rushed forwards, coming to a skittering halt in front of Kimberly and Ellie-May. ‘K-Kimberley Sparks. Hi. I’m Honey, the owner of The Honey Pot. Welcome to Gumtree Valley!’
The discreet bump from Ellie-May told me to dial it down. Kimberley was tapping away at her phone, looking at me like I might carry an undiscovered disease.
‘Sorry, it’s just, it’s so nice to meet you. The girls of The Queen Bees Book Club have been so excited about the signing.’
Kimberley’s perfect eyebrows dipped into a frown. ‘The Queen Bees Book Club?’
This time it was Ellie-May’s turn to frown. ‘You know? Our book club? The one you wrote about in the email you sent to us?’
Kimberley blinked, pausing her texting for the briefest of seconds before she gave a sharp laugh. ‘Oh, of course. Sorry, my assistant handles all my correspondence. I do remember her mentioning it in the quick brief she texted me.’
‘Oh.’ I tried not to let my disappoint show as we moved along with the crowd towards the baggage carousel. ‘You’re a busy woman! Of course you need an assistant! Makes perfect sense!’
‘Are you always so over the top?’ Kimberley didn’t even look at me, her eyes glued to the screen of her phone.
I flinched. ‘Um …’
‘Ugh. I need a cigarette. Why can’t airlines still be like they were in the eighties when you could smoke on the plane?’
Ellie-May scrunched her face. ‘I don’t know. Fire hazard with jet fuel, maybe?’
If Kimberley heard my best friend’s snide comment, she didn’t let it show. Then again, she seemed to be in her own bubble which solely revolved around her phone. I wasn’t sure if she acknowledged much at all. ‘I’m going to go and have a smoke outside. Get my bag for me?’
‘Um, sure. Which one is it?’
‘The Gucci.’ Kimberley only gave a dismissive wave of her hand as she strutted away.
‘Of course it’s Gucci.’ Ellie-May was sending daggers into the author’s back as she sidled up next to me. The carousel whirred to life and soon, a collection of bags trickled through the curtains. ‘She’s a delight.’
I twisted my mouth. ‘We’re doing it for the book club. She’ll only be here for a few days.’
An elaborate Gucci suitcase came around, and Ellie-May and I were both puffing as we heaved it off together.
My best friend glared at me. ‘Well, the girl packed for a few months .’