13. Chapter Eleven

Chapter Eleven

“Your head’s in the clouds,” her dad said, arriving next to her on the front porch steps, ever-present coffee in hand. Ollie looked up at him in surprise.

“Huh?”

“Just said your name eight times,” he announced, taking a seat beside her. “Thought I’d better bring you a top up, just in case you were unconscious.” He handed her a fresh cup of her own.

She blinked in the morning light.

“Thanks,” she said. “I was just…daydreaming.”

Wasn’t that the truth? She’d been in her head ever since the night of the bonfire. Thinking about high school, about privilege, about relative morality. About sharp blue eyes and the sudden flash of genuine pain she saw in them when Lara spat the words the good one at her . She thought of Sadie’s perfectly warranted accusation and her very generous retraction. She thought of how in both cases her attempt at apologising only made things worse. Some things couldn’t be fixed simply by saying sorry.

“Some daydream,” her dad interjected. She raised her head.

“You have no idea.”

Another day went by, and another after that, and Ollie found she still had no answers. She went and lay out in the shady hammock by the dam, gazing up at the tree canopy, listening to the whip birds crack and the catbirds yowl from the leaves.

She felt, if anything, even more conflicted about the person she’d always believed she was. She’d long thought of herself as a kind of underdog, the nerdy, gay farm kid made good, and yet here Lara was, calling her a princess , along with a solid reframe of who Ollie was that made her head spin. Because everything Lara had said about her high school self was true: she was academically gifted, athletic, popular, from a comfortable background, with a supportive family. She’d been teased for being a wog, but that was laughable compared with what Sadie faced in Ribbonwood, or just about bloody anywhere in Australia for that matter. As for the barely veiled jabs at her sexuality that teenage Lara had led…well Ollie was seeing them in a different light no w. The kind of light that said if they’re looking at you then at least they won’t be looking at me.

Lara Bennett. When Audrey had invited Ollie to what she described as more or less a secret society bonfire at Lara’s place there’d been no way Ollie could say no. Oh please, Audrey had said, when Ollie had teetered, pointing out Lara’s solid dislike for her, that’s just Lara. The way Audrey described it, Lara was prickly on the outside and soft in the middle. Far from convinced, Ollie had taken that as a goddamned challenge; if there was a way in through the thorns she was going to find it.

She’d figured it as her one and only last chance to figure Lara out. Because if Lara didn’t want Ollie’s amends then that was her right. But Ollie had only walked away from the bonfire even more confused than before. She and Lara had kept sparring, but she’d seen the flash of enjoyment in Lara’s eyes, and oh how Ollie had relished making her laugh. At times Lara had looked straight up disarmed.

On top of that, this Lara, the one hosting bonfires, surrounded in women who clearly admired and cared for her, all scheming and plotting together on behalf of a spurned ex-girlfriend? If Ollie had thought Lara was superficially gorgeous standing there behind the till of the thriving business she owned… well this Lara was shockingly attractive.

Apparently Ollie hadn’t been remotely subtle in her reaction either since after Sadie had defused their escalating squabble about high school, she’d grinned directly at Ollie with that kiss and make-up line, her eyes smug and knowing. So that had happened. The hit of pink in Lara’s cheeks that followed, had that been from the emotion of the argument, or the directness of Ollie’s response? Because the tension between them felt knife-edge, like it could flip on a dime from a fight to a kiss at any second - either felt completely fucking possible - and she was pretty sure that wasn’t all coming from her side. Lara’s eyes seemed to blaze with it, with a heat that felt palpable. And that wasn’t even taking into account her actions at the school that past week. Ollie smirked every time she remembered Lara’s almost breathless demeanour, every aware flicker of her gaze saying are you looking at me ?

Because oh god, Ollie was. Lara was hard to take your eyes off at the best of times, let alone when she was trying to make you look. Lara Bennett did not have to fucking try and it made Ollie a very complicated combination of endeared and aroused to know that Lara apparently very much cared to make Ollie stare.

Thirty-five was perhaps too old to be so hung up on a girl you used to fantasise about slamming up against the lockers - and not in a hot way. This whole crush she seemed to be growing felt slightly regressive, pushing Ollie back into a time she’d really rather forget. But something was nagging at her; something about the friction between them wouldn’t let her rest. She wanted to resolve this feeling, one way or another, with an urgency that seemed entirely out of proportion with simply running into an old classmate, even one as fascinating as Lara Bennett.

She wondered if she was letting herself get stuck on this exquisitely prickly conundrum because it was easier than her other conundrum, the one she really should be focussing on. What the hell was she supposed to do with the fact that the job she loved was giving her PTSD? She wasn’t stupid. The hyper-vigilance, the flashbacks… she didn’t have all the symptoms, but there was enough to leave her lying in bed at night staring at the ceiling, a cold fear growing in her belly.

She’d worked so hard to get to where she was, the point at which her whole damn life was this job. There should be another thirty years in this career for her; there was no way she could stop now, not after everything she’d sacrificed to get there. But dealing with it felt impossible. Every time she contemplated looking at the problem directly, she felt like a woman in a horror movie investigating a strange noise in the attic. Don’t go upstairs, her brain screamed at her. And so Ollie wouldn’t. Overwhelmed, she closed her eyes and lay back, listening to the sounds of the winery and the rainforest beyond, and thought again about blue eyes.

By the end of the week she found herself walking down Ribbonwood’s main road like she was magnetised, pulled irresistibly inside the doors of the General Store. Lara was right where she expected her to be, behind the counter in the middle of her work day, and yet Ollie felt slightly winded at the sight of her, shoulders bare beneath her casual, sleeveless dress, her hair twisted up with soft wisps escaping down the nape of her neck.

This time though, Ollie wasn’t the sole customer. Lara’s eyes flickered over her briefly, not outwardly registering her presence, as she spoke to a tall, solidly built man at the register. His back was to Ollie, but his voice sounded familiar .

“Come on, Lara,” he said, his tone wheedling, just a hint of irritation. “Give me another chance. I won’t fuck up again, you know I won’t.”

Ollie’s ears pricked up from her way down the aisle. Another grown puppy with a crush? God, this was really humiliating for both of them.

“Adrian.” Lara’s voice was silky soft, like a caress. “You know I want to.” Ollie peered at her over a shelf of fresh produce, torn between feeling curious and surprisingly miserable. “The problem is, I have another supplier now. That’s what happens when I put in orders and you don’t deliver.”

Ollie’s relief at realising that it wasn’t a romantic encounter she’d stumbled onto was straight up troubling. Adrian Wills was from a local family that grew bananas and lychees. He was also, she knew from Nico, quite the stoner. He sounded less than chill right now though.

“For fuck’s sake!” His voice got hard as he gripped the edge of the counter and glowered at Lara, his knuckles turning white. From years in emergency departments, Ollie recognised the signs of a man right on the verge of an aggressive verbal outburst. Her spine stiffened, ready to step in, a response both professionally and personally second nature by now. “You’re not listening to me-”

“Honey, I am.” Lara’s voice got even softer. She leaned towards him, her breasts angled just so. Ollie swallowed. So did Adrian. “You know how much respect I have for you,” Lara said coyly. “You’re always number one to me. It’s just -” her eyelashes floated down slowly over his torso, like she just couldn’t help herself, like she was barely able to hold herself back, “- it’s just business. You wouldn’t hold that against me would you?” She gazed up at him, her lips moving into a gentle pout.

Adrian defused faster than a pricked balloon.

“Jesus Lara,” he said. “I mean, you’re really killing me here-”

“Oh, I’m just small fry,” she stopped him sweetly. “You’ve got much bigger retailers to worry about - real money - a successful guy like you. I wouldn’t expect you to be so gentlemanly, pretending like my little store was something you even noticed.”

“You know I’d look after you,” he said meaningfully, his hands moving from gripping the counter to resting pressed up to her delicate forearms. Lara didn’t flinch.

“Oh I know you would,” she said, with a breathless giggle. “Now run along home to your wife like a good boy,” she scolded him teasingly and pulled away. Ollie held her breath until he disappeared out the door. She popped back out from amongst the shelves.

“Wow,” she said. “That was masterly.”

Lara shrugged, her eyes growing cool .

“It’s who I am,” she said cuttingly. “Right?”

“You’re resourceful,” Ollie said carefully. “And wily as hell. Lucky he’s dumb as a bunch of rocks though, since that’s not remotely the way you flirt.”

“Excuse me?”

Ollie drifted closer.

“No,” she said plainly. “You don’t do that breathy, giggly, baby-girl shit when you actually mean it.”

“I don’t?” Lara looked borderline confused at how to deal with this line of conversation and Ollie was living for it. Jesus she looked good today, her hair gleaming in the warm light, the swoop of her kitten eyeliner deployed to perfection. Ollie focussed.

“If you were actually flirting with him you’d be mocking him mercilessly.” She shrugged. “Making fun of his grocery items, even his credit card. Pretending not to notice him at the school gate, making him sell his soul just to get a drink with you.”

To her absolute shock, Lara’s cheeks flushed, just slightly. Oh fuck, she had her. Ollie had been merely making a stab in the dark, based on nothing but her growing suspicion. Lara’s mouth was hanging open, ready to argue and coming up with nothing.

“That’s not-” she managed.

“Oh, I think it is. You know, I’m pretty sure I’ve figured out by now that hate-fucking is your love language.” Ollie smiled at her sweetly.

Lara stared at her, her blue eyes wide. For a second Ollie thought she was about to throw her out of the store. All of a sudden Lara began to laugh. It was a laugh Ollie had never once heard from her, both surprised and delighted and completely taken aback. Her cheeks stayed flushed and her eyes sparkled and oh my god Ollie could kiss the mouth of the woman who laughed like that.

“You’re delusional,” Lara denied, struggling forcefully to wipe the smile from her lips.

“Oh, there you are, doing it again.” Ollie smirked. “God, it’s like you’re obsessed with me.”

“Please.” Lara recovered herself. “You wish I was.”

“You close the store on Mondays, don’t you?”

Lara sobered fast, looking mutinous .

“So?”

“Sunday night dinners are kind of a thing with my family,” Ollie told her. “Everyone’s there. My mum’s an incredible cook, plus, as you know, we’re a wine dynasty, ” she reminded her with a faint eye roll. “You should come.”

For the second time in less than two minutes Lara seemed completely lost for words.

“I’m not… I don’t…” she started. She gripped the edge of the shop counter, examining her own knuckles for a response. “I don’t have a babysitter,” she eventually said. “It’s sounds like a family thing?” she hastily added. “Your mother wouldn’t want me there,” she bit out, perhaps getting to the real point, her cheeks reddening slightly. “Your family won’t-”

“My family will fucking love you,” Ollie said, clear-eyed, holding her gaze. “Bring Tilly with you. Frankie will be there anyway.”

“Frankie?” Lara frowned.

“I invited Sadie too. She said she’d drive, so you can pretend not to enjoy the family wine again even though it’s fucking excellent. ”

“I…” Lara stared at her. “No, I-”

“What, you have to wash your hair that night?” Ollie jumped in, desperate to sidetrack her. “There’s a shower at mine, if you want.” Lara narrowed her eyes at that and Ollie grinned, unabashed. “Worth a shot.” She shrugged. “What is it? Pet dog you can’t leave at home? Bring him too, we’ve already got four. Wait - a cat? Why not? The more the merrier.”

“Ollie,” Lara finally showed her some mercy and cutting her off. “This level of begging is embarrassing, even for you. If Sadie is going and I get free dinner in a winery with my best friend then I suppose I can tolerate your presence. Just as long as you don’t, like, sit next to me or try to talk to me or whatever.”

Ollie felt her smile stretch wide.

“Wow, it’s like you can’t even help flirting with me,” she tossed over her shoulder as she turned to leave, before the Lara could gather herself and find a reason to change her mind. “Have even a little bit of chill, Lara.”

“You’ve never once even asked me if I’m queer,” Lara said suddenly. Ollie turned back to look at her where she stood, stock still behind the counter. “Your ego is just… stunning.”

“Oh,” said Ollie. “I thought it was obvious. ”

Lara balked.

“What?”

“I mean, your whole life is built around women,” she said. “And I know who you flirt with, and who you don’t. Even if no one else does.”

Lara looked at her for one full, shimmering, sparkling moment. Ollie recognised the look in her eyes. It was indisputably a look of wonder.

“See you on Sunday,” she added. Then she slipped out the door and into the light, wonder of her own sparking in her chest. She’d finally figured out the key to Lara Bennett and it was heartbreakingly simple: actually just seeing her.