“Oh, cool,” Jules replied.
“You ready?” Ash motioned towards a set of stairs that led back to the riverside path they’d been running.
“Yeah, let’s do it.” They jogged down the stairs, then turned left and headed down a mild incline onto an open area of packed, sandy-coloured earth that was surrounded by tall eucalypts. An enormous abstract sculpture that looked like a three-legged dog covered in decoupage dominated the space.
“They hold festivals here,” said Ash. “Food festivals, music … There was a Banksy exhibit here a few years back. It was awesome.”
Melbourne is awesome, thought Jules.
At every turn of the river—and the Yarra was quite twisty—the city revealed something new. Jules smiled to herself, her eyes absorbing each little detail—the way the Botanical Gardens on the far shore hugged the river, the varying architectural styles of the city’s skyline, the buzz and energy of it all. This city was alive.
As they approached the bridge they’d cross to turn around, she watched a team of rowers lifting their oars out of the water in perfect sync while a cox shouted commands from the front of the eight-person scull. Closer to shore, a family of swans paddled about, the cygnets awkward teenagers with fluffy grey down.
She’d only been there a few days, but Jules was already starting to fall in love with Melbourne. No wonder Chloe went on and on about it all the time. There was a lot to brag about.
*
“Oh, my god, it feels good to sit down.”
“I’ll drink to that.” Ash reached along the length of the couch and tapped her glass against Jules’s. “Worth it, though. Those cookies look divine.”
“And you only stole, like, what? Three, or was it four?” teased Jules.
“It was five. And I’m feeling it now. Sugar crash.”
“Hey, thanks for helping with the gift for Thea and Callie.”
“No worries. You had all that baking to do.”
“True, but you dressed the ham and cleaned the apartment.” The already spotless apartment was now immaculate.
“Yeah, but still. The present thing was easy—I knew exactly where I was going, and I was in and out in under twenty minutes. It’s a really nice idea. I wish I’d thought of it.”
“Well, we’ll make sure to toast them tomorrow—make it extra special.”
“With my favourite bubbles!”
“Exactly. These aren’t bad either.” Jules had another sip from her glass.
“Haven’t you heard? We don’t make bad wine in Australia.”
“I am sure that’s almost true.” Ash flashed her a grin. “So, what else did you want to get done tonight?”
Ash jumped up, and Jules wondered at her seemingly boundless energy. “Let me just get the list.”
“Ah, yes, the list!” Jules had never really seen the appeal, something that Chloe—and even Lucy—found frustrating about her when they travelled together. Mostly because she’d invariably forget something and they would end up scouring a tiny town in Italy for a phone charger, or flipflops for her size-ten feet, and one time, a DIY bikini-wax kit.
According to Chloe, the waxing kit was only necessary because Jules hadn’t written a pre-departure list, so had forgotten to get her bikini line in order ahead of time. Jules had conceded that one.
“Right!” Ash plopped down on the couch, took her glass off the table for a generous swig, then proceeded to mumble her way through a list of things that were already done. Jules watched, amused.
How had her family got through Christmas all these years without planning? She drank more sparkling wine, starting to get a little impatient for Ash to tally up the still-to-do items.
“We should probably iron the tablecloth and the napkins and set the table.” Jules scrunched her nose. “Yeah, you’re right. To hell with it, we’ll do it tomorrow. Or we’ll wait ’til the others get here and they can do it.” Jules doubted very much that Ash was the kind of hostess who let her guests set the table, and she resigned herself to ironing table linens on Christmas morning. Still, it was better than doing it now.
“Hey, I’ve been meaning to ask … your friendship group, the orphans. They’re all your college friends, right?” she asked Ash. “I mean, I know you and Chloe met at college, but where do the others fit in?”
“Oh, well, only Callie, Matt, Chloe, and I went to uni together. We did a lot of the same first-year classes—intro to marketing, that sort of thing. And Chloe and I moved in together in second year. We had this dumpy little flat in North Carlton,” she explained, as though the suburb name meant anything to Jules.
“But it was cool, you know, to have our own place. Callie crashed on the couch more often than she slept at home.” Ash laughed, the mirth in her eyes revealing the memories playing in her mind. “Anyway, we were a firm foursome that first couple of years, then Matt made other friends—guys—so we didn’t see him as much. Well, Chloe did; they always stayed close.” Jules wasn’t sure how to read that … or what she thought of it.
“And Thea? How long have she and Callie been together?”
“I’d say … uh, three or four years. Yeah, that’s about right. I loved Thea right away. Such a good match for Callie. You met them yesterday, right?”
“Yeah, they’re really cool.” So was their beachside condo. Jules had been a little envious of their water views.
“And what about David? Where does he fit in?” Jules asked.
“Dav-o,” Ash corrected.
“Do I really have to call him that?”
“It’s his name.” Jules rolled her eyes. It was one thing to shorten someone’s name to one syllable, like she sometimes did with Luce and Chlo—or like Ashley to Ash—but why add the O? “And anyway,” added Ash, “Davo isn’t short for David. It’s short for Davidson—his last name.”
“So, what’s his first name?”
“Kenneth.” Kind of old fashioned. Jules could see why he preferred a nickname. “And when you meet him, you’ll see, he’s all Davo and definitely not a
