Chapter 17 Brooke
SEVENTEEN
Brooke
Brooke felt like she’d blinked and they'd arrived at their second destination.
This winery was a little different. The cellar door was attached to a large building that housed a full restaurant and accommodation overlooking the vineyards, but instead of being ushered indoors, Veronica led their group around the side to the rear of the property.
There, a single long table stood covered in white tablecloths and swathed in garlands of natives with an array of platters spread between them.
Brooke salivated at the amount of food, her stomach grumbling in agreement.
Too busy in their own conversation, Brooke and JJ were seated right on the end. An American couple who appeared to be in their fifties sat opposite them. Their glasses were already poured with their first tasting and an array of platters were spread between the garlands.
Brooke held her breath as JJ dove into the wine—an extra crisp sauvignon blanc.
JJ sipped, her face twitching slightly. Brooke would feel bad, but JJ was the one who’d agreed to a wine tour.
She’d wanted the new experience and so Brooke had obliged.
It seemed JJ was getting the hang of it now and taking more appropriate-sized sips.
She'd even swirled and sniffed the current tasting like a proper connoisseur.
JJ lowered her glass. “What?”
“I feel like you’re starting to enjoy that.”
“It’s fun, and it’s either getting easier or I’m getting drunk enough that I don’t care.”
“Probably the latter, darling.” She dragged out the name with sarcasm then popped an olive into her mouth from their platter. They were the stuffed green kind with a satisfying crunch. The tartness melded with the white wine still sitting on her palate.
The outdoor meal was slow and the chatter of their tour group relaxed against the acoustic tunes of a young man strumming his guitar, a mixture of laid-back beats from the last few decades.
They’d gone through four more tastings with their latest one of Brooke’s favourites so far—a velvety smooth, straight merlot.
She’d be buying a bottle of that before they left!
Brooke picked a gum leaf off their table’s garland.
She cracked it in half, the fresh scent wafting into the air, almost like woody menthol.
“So, are you two sisters?” Clive asked across the table as he buttered a piece of bread. They’d been in polite conversation on and off with the older American couple, mostly about the tour and other activities they’d all been up to recently.
Brooke giggled, but JJ frowned, sitting back and crossing her arms. “No,” Brooke answered for them. “I’m her tour guide.” She wrapped an arm around JJ’s shoulders, giving her a quick squeeze, making JJ’s arms fall back in her lap.
Clive leaned over to his wife. “Oh really? Hear that, Jen? She’s a tour guide.” He turned back to Brooke. “Do you have a card?”
“Oh.” That was unexpected. Brooke’s cheeks warmed.
“It’s not my job. I’m just helping out my—friend.
” She stuttered on the last word, unsure of the right way to explain their current relationship.
Acquaintance didn’t quite fit, neither did client…
but she was working for JJ after all. Hmm, friend still seemed to suit best with how Brooke felt around her.
“Well, here.” Clive reached into his pocket, pulling out a slim case.
He slid a card across the table. “If you ever offer that or trip planning as a service, let me know. Your itinerary so far sounded excellent. We’d have never thought to go helicamping, and it’s one of those unique experiences we’re always on the lookout for. Appreciate the recommendation.”
Brooke tucked the card in her bag. “You’re welcome.”
It was enough work planning her own travels. Doing this for others? She couldn’t imagine that. Though, this trip was more… enjoyable than expected, but maybe that was more to do with the current company rather than the destination.
Lunch drew to a close and they began to make their way over to the cellar door for a few sticky tastings to finish off their meal. Brooke’s head spun from the wine as well as the earlier conversation.
She pushed that aside and turned to JJ. “Hey, before, you looked upset about the sister comment. What was that all about?”
JJ pursed her lips before answering, “Because why is it that middle-aged white dudes always have to ask if you’re related to the girl you’re with?
I don’t ask if they’re brother and sister when they’re clearly together.
” Her eyes blew wide as she held up her hands, stopping mid-stride.
“Not that I’m saying I’m with you.” She waved it off. “Ugh. It’s a lesbian thing.”
They continued to stroll along the grass and up to the building.
“Seriously?” Brooke said. “I guess I haven’t been in a relationship with a woman before to have had it happen to me. But when you put it like that… that’s rough.”
“Yeah, it doesn’t happen often—clearly, as I’m usually single—but there’s a girl at my quarterly work dinners, she has to put up with it on site whenever her girlfriend visits for lunch or whatever.”
“Thanks for enlightening me. I’d be happy to correct people in the future, you know, if I had a date that looked like me.”
“We don’t even look like each other,” JJ said. “I mean blonde hair, sure. But other than that, we’re chalk and cheese.”
“I mean we’re basically the same height. But yeah, you’re right. I don’t see it.”
They moved into the cellar door and stood at the back of the line to wait their turn.
Where the other winery was rustic, this was all modern whites, straight edges, and oak trims. It didn’t really match the vibe of other wineries Brooke had visited.
It was like all the personality had been stripped and replaced with a side of pompousness.
“So, speaking of usually being single, what’s the dating scene like for a lesbian these days?”
JJ grimaced and pulled her lips in.
“Is this one of those don’t ask questions?” Brooke checked in.
“No,” JJ replied with a slight groan. “It’s just…
hard. To be honest, it’s been so nice not worrying about dating as much as having a break from work on this trip.
My parents are—” She ran a hand along the shaved side of her head.
“So I told you how my friends recently got together, and it made me realise I hadn’t really been putting myself out there in a while—too busy with work, you know? And—never mind.”
They moved up a couple of spaces. “I’m listening, not judging.”
JJ was quiet for a beat. “Anyway, I went on a bunch of dates over the last month—each one worse than the last, and I’m pretty sure I burned myself out.”
“See, this is why dating is overrated. Too much pressure. Just sleep with them and run.” Brooke winked, expecting the second horrified look on JJ before she’d even made it.
“I’m kidding,” she said. “I get it. Not your style. So, why do you think the dates flopped?” The wine had to be kicking in. Brooke didn’t ask these kinds of questions, yet here she was. She twisted her bracelets around her wrist.
“Well, Jess would tell you it’s a me problem. I would tell you that once I’ve chatted with someone for a few minutes, I just know they’re not my person.”
“So, who is your person?” Brooke bit her lip.
JJ didn’t respond right away. Her eyes were focused on Brooke’s mouth.
Then she cleared her throat and squinted, as if lost in thought. “Um. She’s… god, it sounds kind of silly to say it now.”
“Why?”
“I have a list.”
“Of people?”
“No.” JJ chuckled. “A list of attributes I’m looking for in the right person.
Like to be confident in themselves but not cocky; has their life put together—like maybe they run a business too, manage a company or have a house—you know, stable income, that kind of thing; they’re an all-round nice person and a few other points, but that's the gist.”
“Wow, I'm like a walking anti-list.” Brooke went for the joke, but the list still stung. Did JJ have similar criteria for new friends?
“We’re different in some ways, but it's not a bad thing,” JJ rushed to say.
Brooke wasn't sure if she was trying to reassure Brooke… or herself.
“I mean—go you for knowing what you want. All I’d say is remember that no matter how much you write a list or plan things, sometimes you can still end up broken down in the outback with goats on your car, you know?”
JJ let out a belly laugh, setting Brooke off at the same time.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” she said through laughter.
They reached the bar, giggles still dying down. It was nice how much fun she’d been having on the trip. She rubbed at her aching cheeks.
An attendant placed two triple wine flights in front of them then pointed at their first glass. “This is a French style Botrytis dessert wine. The year of harvest was a wetter season than anticipated, which resulted in the sweeter caramel notes you’ll soon taste—all thanks to the fungal rot.”
JJ seemed captivated by the story, taking the first sip and nodding along to their pourer. “Mmm.” Mouth closed, she made a show of waiting and allowing the wine to sit on her tongue. It was impressive how much JJ was leaning into the fun of tasting.
JJ nodded once more and declared, “I can really taste the wet season.”
Both the attendant and Brooke looked at each other, the young woman trying and failing to suppress a grin. Brooke cackled, unable to hold it in.
JJ swung her head between them, brows furrowing. “What?”
“I think, maybe, just stick to the fruit names.” Brooke patted her on the shoulder. A gentleman standing next to them also cracked a smile at the show. “You, uh, can’t ‘taste’ the wet season. It’s just part of the growing process that shapes the wine and the flavours it presents.”
“Oh.” JJ already had a wine blush, which deepened as the meaning landed. “That’s what I get for trying to be an astute arsehole.” She laughed into her glass, taking another sip.
Four wineries down and eight hours later, everyone piled back onto the bus a final time.
Brooke’s arm hung through JJ’s again. Who was holding onto whom couldn’t be confirmed as they teetered through the door and toward a pair of empty seats.
They collapsed in a heap of messy giggles, somehow managing to clip their seatbelts on.
For some reason they were holding hands, and JJ was giving Brooke a glassy-eyed grin, complete with wine-stained lips.
Brooke was probably reflecting the same look back, though she couldn’t be sure.
Her head felt like it was in the clouds. She was so warm and fuzzy.
Her dress had been a good decision at the start of the day, but now the sky had darkened, and a crisp chill was in the air. Heat wafted off JJ, her palm warming Brooke’s. JJ’s thumb brushed over her knuckles as the bus lurched down the road.
As everyone was dropped off to their accommodations, the boisterous roar dulled to low murmurs, the radio playing gently as they jostled along. JJ’s head now rested on Brooke’s shoulder, the weight increasing until the faintest of snores began.
Brooke’s mind settled. Once again, she found herself with this woman wriggling well into her personal space.
But once again, she still allowed it. Her senses were overwhelmed, full of everything JJ: fresh soapy shampoo and an earthy vetiver scent—more warmth seeping in.
Her unofficial title of tour guide was becoming blurrier, fading into the background.
At some point, this had started to feel like a real holiday, though Brooke couldn’t pinpoint when exactly that had happened.
As for JJ? Brooke wasn’t sure what they were now, but client and acquaintance were definitely off the list.
Brooke had never had a best friend. Plenty of friends, sure.
But not best friends. Not those kids she’d see in school making bracelets or having sleepovers, whispering secrets in each other’s ears.
She’d move from group to group or sit on the log by the school boundary and daydream of adventures.
Then once her adventures became real, it was the same thing.
New friends almost every week, a growing collection too many to count over the decade.
But once again, no one stuck. Just travelling buddies.
JJ felt like more than a travelling buddy.
The realisation was like a gut punch. Brooke wasn’t a relationship person—clearly—that shone in lights when it came to someone like JJ, who was looking for Brooke’s opposite; someone to settle down with and live their perfect lives together behind their white picket fence.
Her thumb rubbed circles on the back of JJ’s hand.
She visualised yanking her hand free, and nudging JJ awake. Again, her body refused to cooperate.
What was it about JJ that drew her in like a magnet despite their differences? Was it physical touch she was craving? A flash of white teeth and French cologne made her shudder at the memory.
No. Not that then.
The bus pulled up to their accommodation. They were the last ones left. She’d had no idea.
“Hey, wake up. We’re back.” She squeezed JJ’s hand.
JJ stirred. “Sorry, I guess I fell asleep.”
“Let’s get inside, yeah?”
JJ wrapped an arm around Brooke’s waist and kept it there the entire walk up to their door. Brooke soaked in the warmth, not wanting it to end.