Adding “talented” to the growing list of adjectives to describe Matt, Jules sleepily brushed her teeth in Chloe’s bathroom, quickly slathered on some night cream and fell into Chloe’s bed.
A hot Aussie winemaker, who saved the day … was her last thought as she drifted off into an exhausted sleep.
*
“This way!” Jules followed Ash closely through the market, amazed at how well Ash manoeuvred through the crowd. “Just the prawns and the ham left to pick up,” Ash called over her shoulder. They came to a stop at a deli counter that was three people deep, all of them raising their hands and shouting over the hullabaloo of everyone else shouting.
“This place is for the prawns. I pre-ordered so it shouldn’t take too long,” shouted Ash. “Then we go over there for the ham.” She pointed at a shopfront two counters down.
“Is it always like this?” Jules was comparing the South Melbourne market—it was the size of a city block, packed to the rafters, and all under one roof—to farmers’ markets back home, with their relaxed atmosphere, outdoorsiness, and space. Of course, none of them were open at this time of year. The thought of all that produce snap-frozen from the cold air made her chuckle to herself.
“What, the market? It’s a little crazier than usual ’cause of Christmas, but it’s always busy. It’s ’cause everything’s high quality here—the meat, the seafood, the fruit and veg.” They shuffled forward as more people ahead of them turned away from the counter and pushed through the crowd with half-hearted “excuse mes”.
“And this is where you and Chloe normally shop?” Jules was trying to get a picture of what everyday life was like for Chloe and Ash.
“Um, sometimes. We’ll make the effort if we’re having a dinner party or for special occasions. It’s expensive, though, so we usually go to Woolies.”
Jules assumed that Woolies was just a regular a grocery store. And hearing Ash say that the market was expensive reminded her—she wanted to pay her fair share for what was going to be a spectacular Christmas feast.
“By the way,” she started, just as the couple in front of them moved aside and they took their place at the front of the line. “I want to contribute to all of this.”
Ash flicked her a look. “You don’t need to do that. It’s all good.”
The man behind the counter pointed at Ash and she rattled off her pre-order to him. He left the counter to get it.
“I want to. If Chloe were here, she’d be contributing, right?”
“Yeah, but you’re a guest.”
“Yeah, sorta, but Chloe’s one of my best friends—like a sister really—and you’re one of her best friends, so by proxy, this is like having Christmas with my extended family. I’d be contributing back home.” Ash looked unconvinced. “Please just let me?”
Ash pursed her lips. “Sure, okay, but no money changes hands. We are down a dessert with Chloe gone. She usually makes a pav.”
“A pav?” Where did Aussies come up with these words?
“A pavlova. Like a meringue.” And why did they shorten everything? Does Chloe always talk in Aussie-isms? Jules asked herself. Maybe she did and Jules just didn’t notice. Ash peered up her expectantly.
“Right. Well, I’m not sure my baking skills extend to making a pavlova, but I am awesome at Christmas cookies. That’s one of the ways I earn my keep back home. Actually, my cookies are kind of legendary.” She shrugged in mock modesty.
The man behind the counter handed over a large package of prawns wrapped tightly in butcher’s paper. “You’re talking about proper American cookies, right?”
Jules laughed. “Yeah, sure, I guess they’re American.”
Ash took off her backpack and squeezed in the package of prawns, then zipped it up. “But you mean those shortbready ones with all the fancy icing and stuff? Those, right?”
“Yes, they are fancy, very fancy,” Jules replied with mock seriousness.
“Well, if you’re sure—and please be sure because I’ve always wanted proper American cookies at Christmas—then we’ll stop at Woolies on the way home for baking stuff. That can be your contribution. How’s that?”
“Sounds good to me.”
“And then, we’re going out for coffee. I am dying for a proper coffee.” Ash forged ahead to the next counter where they would collect the ham, shoving her way through the dense, but amiable crowd. Jules stayed right on her tail, not wanting to get lost. She had no idea from which direction they’d come in.
Ash continued, “I mean, there are some great places for it here. Like that one.” She pointed to a tiny hole-in-the-wall—more of a counter than a coffee shop—with a long line of people who all looked like they were Jonesing for their coffee hit. “But look at that frigging line!”
She turned to Jules, “Okay, so we get the ham, we bike over to Woolies, get the baking stuff, then drop all this at home, and grab coffee? Sound good?” Jules could see why Ash and Chloe were such good friends. They were both super organised and, just like Chloe, Ash seemed to enjoy being in charge. Jules wondered if that made them the most formidable team ever, or if sometimes it was “the clash of the titans”.
“Sounds good,” Jules replied. Ash smiled, just like Chloe did whenever her plan was accepted. Two little planners living together. No wonder the apartment was immaculate. As soon as she got up that morning, Jules had made Chloe’s bed, almost as though Chloe was hovering over her, “Tuck that corner in! No, tighter!”
Jules never made her bed back home. What was the point? She was just going to mess it up again that night. But she’d seen Chloe make her bed in a five-star hotel. The thought tugged at Jules’s heart a little. Gosh, she adored that funny little Aussie.
She hadn’t realised how far they’d progressed in the line until Ash declared that they were done. “Let’s get the flock outta here,”
