Lavender Kisses
For the first time in years John had something to do that made him bound out of bed. He showered, shaved and put on clothes far too good to paint in. He rarely needed to wear any of the shirts taking up space in his wardrobe, some almost as old as him. The sound of tyres crunching gravel heralded Ava’s arrival. John patted his hair into place, checked his fly and strode barefoot down the hallway.
Ava’s appearance made his breath catch. She stood before him looking fresh and youthful in black trousers and a white shirt that accentuated her slender neck. She’d kept everything simple, except the brooch she had worn yesterday, now pinned to her collar.
‘You’re bright and early, Ava.’
‘First we cook.’ She marched straight to the kitchen and emptied the contents of her canvas tote onto the bench.
John examined the groceries. ‘We’re cooking again?’
‘Detail,’ Ava told him. ‘Something sweet to put on the table. We discussed it. You don’t remember?’
Did he? And did it matter? Nothing stopped a woman on a mission. He knew that from living with Katie. Besides, he was hungry.
‘You told me you ate the scones,’ she said. ‘I thought something different might be nice.’
‘Lavender?’ John sniffed the fragrant sprigs she’d tipped from the bag.
‘The best kind for cooking. Blair has oodles of it growing outside my guest room.’ Ava plucked a couple of small purple buds, pressed them between her fingers and popped them into her mouth. ‘The Greeks and Romans were eating it centuries ago. Try some.’ She held the sprig towards John. ‘I promise you’ll enjoy the subtlety. The flavour’s not so strong when used in moderation and it’s especially lovely when blitzed with sugar. We’ll have biscuits rather than scones today, but not just any biscuits,’ she called, over her shoulder, as she went into the pantry. ‘While I border on obsession when it comes to the simplicity of shortbread, I find lavender makes the everyday extraordinary. Shortbread is more versatile than people realise and nothing smells better in the oven. My daughter is partial to orange and rosemary, another favourite but a little more fiddly.’
While Ava chatted, John found himself staring at the heart-shaped cookie cutter on the bench. He reached for it just as Ava’s hand took hold. As if it was electrically charged, John’s hand gripped tighter and he felt a sudden inexplicable desire to kiss the woman.
Ava sprang back, eyes wide with surprise.
John cursed under his breath. What the hell are you doing, Tate? You don’t sneak up on a woman like her and kiss her without…
She wrapped both her arms around his neck, drawing his lips to hers. John groaned, returning the kiss. Ava was like an unexpected downpour on a parched landscape and he didn’t want her to stop, but the sound of footsteps on wooden boards pushed them apart.
‘You in here, Dad? I’ve come over to see how your night panned out with…’
‘Blair?’ John hastily adjusted the shirt that hung out over his trousers, while Ava checked for lipstick smears.
‘Oh, hello there, Ava!’ He had stopped on the top step before the sunken sunroom. ‘All good, then.’ He backed away and called, while heading towards the front door, ‘I’ll catch you later, Dad.’
As the front door shut, they looked at each other and burst into laughter.
‘Well, that was awkward,’ Ava said, eventually.
‘Awkward is not the word I’d use, but I’m wondering what happens now?’
‘Maybe we should cook and have that cuppa,’ she suggested.
‘Good idea. I guess I’m on tea duty.’
‘No, get those sleeves rolled up, John. We’re doing this together. I’ll measure, you stir.’
‘Ha! My son will tell you I’m a natural stirrer.’
*
They’d drunk tea and eaten too many pieces of the heart-shaped lavender shortbread, leaving only five for the decorative plate, which John photographed as a reference because no way would these leftovers last beyond the day.
‘Ava, you are fast becoming a most fascinating subject and I’ve yet to put brush to canvas. We really must focus tomorrow. There is still tonight, however, and I was thinking… It’s been a while since I cooked, so I can’t promise anything spectacular, but if you’d like to stay for dinner I can guarantee a pretty special sunset from the veranda.’
Ava was reluctant to leave, but didn’t trust herself to stay. ‘I hope you don’t mind if I save it for another time, John?’
Today had taken her by surprise, her head reeling when she thought about what might have happened had Blair not walked in on them. As for tonight, and at the risk of acting like a fifty-eight-year-old virgin, she preferred to prepare herself, and for the occasion with John to be special – not just the sunset. ‘I agree that we need to focus on the portrait.’
‘I understand, Ava.’ Disappointment closed down his sunny expression.
‘Or,’ she dared, ‘it’s a beautiful day and there’s so much of Ivy-May I haven’t seen…’
John smiled. ‘I have a quad bike. Your chariot awaits.’
Ava threw back her head and laughed. ‘Can I borrow an old shirt?’
‘That I can definitely manage. Come this way and you can take your pick.’
He waited for Ava to change, and when she reappeared wearing the oversized business shirt – sleeves rolled up, collar tuned up and the thin white cotton allowing glimpses of a lace bra – John’s blood raced through his veins.
*
‘Hold on tight,’ he called to her, over the rumble of the engine revving into action. He pulled both her arms tight around his waist, inviting her to shimmy forward until every part of her body was moulded to his. ‘Ready?’
Yes, said one part of her brain. No, said the other. She settled for ‘Let’s go.’
*
The ‘short’ ride took three hours. They traced the circumference of the mighty Mount Hedlow and from the ridgeline John pointed out property boundaries, telling her how his ancestors had overcome hardships to provide a future for their children.
The return trip was more leisurely as they traced the meandering Candlebark Creek, a slow-moving river offering myriad sandy coves and shelter from the afternoon heat.
*
‘Tea or coffee?’ John called, from the kitchen sink.
‘Water, please,’ Ava said. ‘Not sure which part of me has more dust – my face or my mouth. Thank you.’ She took the glass he proffered.
‘Thank you, Ava, for letting me show you my Ivy-May.’
‘Nothing you haven’t seen a million times, I’m sure.’
John straddled a dining chair and gulped a glass of water. ‘Only what I saw today through your eyes was different. I can’t explain any better than that, except that somehow you’ve reinvigorated my love for the land. I’d forgotten plenty of things, including how lucky I am to live in a place like this. Today, you made me remember… The other day you asked if I believed in Fate. I’d enjoy discussing destiny over dinner so perhaps you’ll reconsider my invitation for tonight.’
Her face declined without the need for words.
‘I’ll take that as a no. And I commend you on a very wise decision as there’s no guaranteeing the fate of a steak in my hands these days.’
‘There’s always tomorrow.’ Ava smiled meekly. ‘Today’s been a little overwhelming and I have to think about my heart. A good night’s sleep after a good day is what I need right now. I’ll come early tomorrow, if that’s all right with you, and we can get into the portrait.’
‘Come back any time after nine o’clock.’
‘I will, and I’m looking forward to it very much.’
‘Me too, Ava.’
‘Thank you again for today, John, for the property tour, I mean. Exploring this beautiful place, visiting all those hidden nooks and lush spaces along the river has meant more to me than you can know. If only I’d thought to take some photos.’
‘There’s always tomorrow.’
‘Speaking of cameras…’ she said. ‘Perhaps taking some reference photos of me is a good idea. I’m proving to be one of the distractions you told me about that first day.’
‘A very pleasant distraction – but we won’t need photos. We’ll make a good start tomorrow straight to canvas.’
‘That sounds wonderful.’
John detected a shift in Ava’s mood. They were back to being polite. Had he pushed too hard, said too much, been too eager? He had forgotten what she’d said on that first day, about an expiry date that required medical intervention. For reasons he could not explain, the notion made John more fidgety than normal. He stood up, which prodded Ava to do the same.
‘Look at me, I need a shower,’ she said. ‘And I’m afraid your shirt’s filthy.’
‘That old thing? Not sure why I even have a white business shirt. Given the yellowing I’d say it’s pretty old. Throw it away. One less in the wardrobe will keep my ex-wife happy.’
‘I’ve thanked you a dozen times already, John, so once more won’t hurt. Thank you.’ After collecting her bags from the kitchen bench, she added, ‘For everything.’
Should he kiss her goodbye? It had been too many years; John couldn’t remember the protocol. He only knew he was desperate for Ava to stay, to talk and laugh like they had last night and to kiss like they had in the kitchen earlier. He felt like a boy again: awkward and eager, stumbling over his words like he was sixteen for the third time in his life.
‘I’ll see you tomorrow, Ava.’
She smiled slowly and he waited. There was something to follow, something specific she wanted to say, and he could tell by the way Ava’s lips quivered that it was serious. But she was withdrawing, as he’d watched her do a couple of times now, the smile fading.
John saved her from the struggle. ‘You should take these remaining shortbreads for Blair. Tell him his old man’s not a bad cook after all.’
Ava offered a small smile. ‘Or a bad kisser.’
Relieved, John let himself laugh. ‘Maybe we’ll keep that small detail to ourselves.’
Ava walked towards him and they did kiss again, but John didn’t dare linger. As much as he might wish he was, he wasn’t a teenager any more.