Bailey pushed open the door of Take Two, grateful to get out of the biting wind and driving rain. He folded his umbrella, giving it a gentle shake over the bucket that had been placed inside the door for that purpose before shoving it in alongside the couple of other umbrellas that were propped there.
“Afternoon, Bailey.”
He remembers my name. The thought sent a little thrill through Bailey and he had to acknowledge Ryan was right—he did have a crush on Tom. But hell, it was hard not to, not with the way his smile melted Bailey inside and made the trek through the wet and miserable city worthwhile.
“Your usual?” Tom asked as Bailey approached the counter.
Bailey couldn’t help the smile. And he knows my coffee order.
“Perfect, thanks. I’ll also grab a sandwich.” Bailey’s mood was spoiled by the flash of guilt that accompanied spending his hard-earned cash on food he could easily make at home. The same with purchasing coffee, but that was the treat he allowed himself each shift—a reward for having to spend eight hours tethered to the phones. “I’ll have ham, cheese, and tomato on wholegrain, toasted, to have here.”
“Sure thing, Bailey. Take a seat and I’ll bring it over.”
Bailey settled himself at the table he’d come to think of as “his.” Well, more like his and Ryan’s. But today Ryan was at work while Bailey was rostered off. The only reason he’d come into the city was to pick up the book collection from the office. There were two large boxes stuffed full of novels, too much for Bailey to carry home on public transport, so he’d driven the van in. He’d already loaded the books and had forty-five minutes before the parking metre expired, so just enough time to grab something to eat. Plus it was cold outside and the thought of a hot coffee had been too much to resist. That, and the thought of seeing Tom, he admitted to himself.
Tom approached with a mug of coffee and a smile. He placed the steaming drink in front of Bailey with a broad grin, then hurried to serve a couple of girls who were waiting at the counter, leaving Bailey to smile at his retreating back.
The warmth of the mug under his cold hands was heaven, and the first sip pure bliss. Usually Bailey had Ryan nattering in his ear, but today he slowly drank his coffee while observing the goings-on around him. It was lunchtime, so the place was fairly busy. A group of people were seated at the couches in animated discussion. Bailey assumed they were office workers from the same company, given they were taking notes and passing around some kind of paperwork—a business meeting perhaps? There were two smaller vacant tables but the rest were occupied with shoppers and more office workers. Light pop music played over the speakers. The whole place had a friendly and welcoming vibe that reflected Tom perfectly. Even now, rushed off his feet, Tom was smiling as he juggled passing over coffees, working the till, and preparing food.
Eventually Tom returned with Bailey’s sandwich.
“There you go. Hot off the grill. Sorry it took so long.” Tom slid the plate in front of Bailey, whose stomach rumbled at the sight of the toasted sandwich oozing cheese.
He smiled up at Tom. “No worries. You’re busy today. Isn’t there usually someone else here?”
“Uh-huh. Lauren usually comes in for a few hours in the middle of the day to help with the lunchtime rush but her kid’s sick and she had to keep him home from school.”
“That’s tough.”
Tom shrugged. “Can’t be helped. I’ll get by and most customers are pretty understanding.” Tom glanced around. “But things are definitely getting busier and if this keeps up, I might need to look at bringing on another person. Maybe a barista. Anyway, got to rush. Enjoy the sandwich.”
Bailey watched him hurry back behind the counter. Tom chatted to the next customer, engaged in animated conversation as he put a slice of cake onto a cardboard plate and slipped it into a paper bag. The smile didn’t leave his face once, and it wasn’t just a smile for show, as evidenced by the crinkling at the corners of his eyes as Tom shared a joke with his customer.
It must be fabulous to enjoy your job so much.
Bailey didn’t feel any passion for his own job, which was a shame really. He didn’t hate it, not completely anyway, but he didn’t go to work with any excitement or look forward to starting each shift. Rumour had it there’d be redundancies at the end of the financial year as part of cost cutting measures. The thirtieth of June was only a couple of weeks away, so Bailey had been working his butt off in the office, focused on performing his tasks to the best of his ability and trying not to think about the possibility of losing his job. Maybe I could come and work here at the cafe if I end up unemployed? He snorted at his own thoughts. He hadn’t considered working in hospitality as a permanent career, but a couple of hours spent each day with Tom was something he’d sure be up for.
Bailey was people watching and had just finished the last of his perfectly toasted sandwich when another customer entered the cafe and headed towards the counter. Bailey’s eyes widened when he saw who it was.
Gavin kept his eyes down and his hands firmly lodged in the pockets of his well-worn trousers. With his slumped posture and shuffling gait, it was obvious he was uncomfortable being in the coffee shop. Bailey glanced around, surprised to see Gavin alone. He therefore wasn’t surprised to see Tony standing outside through the plate glass window. Bailey looked back at Gavin in time to see him grab the handles of a plastic shopping bag. Gavin nodded to Tom, then his gaze focused back on the hardwood floor as he turned and retraced his steps, making his way to the door. Thank God he was looking at the floor, Bailey thought, and didn’t see the turned-up noses on the pair of office workers seated at the table he passed. Bitches.
It always pissed Bailey off when he saw the judgmental looks when people observed those less fortunate than themselves. Those well-dressed customers knew nothing about Gavin or his circumstances, and could at least show some compassion, not make Gavin feel totally unwelcome. It wasn’t much better when people totally avoided making eye contact either, as if not meeting the eyes of a street kid or a homeless person would make their existence go away.
Bailey glanced back to Tom. He was once again focused on preparing food. It warmed Bailey to know that Tom didn’t treat Gavin that way. Tom had given Gavin the same smile he gave every one of his customers. The same smile that flashed his brilliant teeth. The same smile that was now directed Bailey’s way. Bailey flushed at being caught staring—something that had become quite the habit where Tom was concerned.
* * *
“Got a smoke?”
“No, sorry, Gav. I don’t smoke. Remember?”
Gavin shrugged, then he and Tony shuffled to the back of the van. Bailey was pleased to see them each pull a paperback from their coat pockets, return them to a box, then rummage for something new. Before long they’d headed off, new book choices in hand, and the younger crowd took their place. Cassie, as usual, dived right in, and Emma hung back.
“Hi, Emma. It’s great to see you again,” Bailey said.
The girl stared back, at least meeting Bailey’s eyes this time. Shame it was only to shoot daggers. It was obvious he hadn’t made a friend there. Yet.
“Hey, Bailey.” Cassie waved a paperback under his nose and drew his attention. “I loved this one. It was an awesome mystery.”
Bailey glanced at the cover. “Yeah, I liked it too. Did you know it was made into a movie?”
Cassie shook her head as she looked at the cover of Dark Places. “I haven’t heard of this one as a movie, but I know the author did another one that was a movie.”
“You’re probably thinking of Gone Girl. It was really popular.”
“I don’t get to the movies very much,” Cassie responded, but despite her words, her tone was upbeat. That she managed to stay so positive never ceased to amaze Bailey. “I usually prefer the books anyway,” she continued.
He wondered if she was just saying that because money for a session at the movies was probably hard to come by, but Bailey felt much the same way. “Me too. Movies hardly ever do justice to the book.”
“I know, right? The characters never match what I created in my mind and I hate it when they leave huge bits out of the story or change the ending. At least with books I don’t have that problem.”
Jude spoke up. “What about if you hate the story? Most books are boring. At least a movie is over quicker.”
Cassie’s dark eyebrows were almost to her hairline. “What? How can you even say that? The longer the book the better. Hours and hours to lose myself in a make-believe world.”
Bailey knew exactly how she felt. Escapism was the main reason reading was his favourite pastime and why he knew access to books was so important for the people who couldn’t easily buy them. Books opened up the world, took the reader to new places, and provided a way to forget about real life and your troubles for just a bit. And he always chose a book with a happy ending.
“Go and check out the new selection. The guys at work brought in heaps of new stuff and they look great based on some of the covers.” He looked at Jude, who returned his gaze expectantly. “Yes, there are some old magazines that don’t look too bad as well.”
Jude gave him the thumbs up. “Thanks, man.”
Jude leaned into the back of the van next to Cassie and they started perusing the titles that caught their interest. It was nice to listen to their animated conversation as they laughed and joked. Even Emma had joined in and was at least looking at the boxes of books. She hadn’t picked anything up yet, but maybe she would if he didn’t pressure her. He knew from experience that kids could be contrary and do the opposite of what they were asked. Better to leave her to her own devices and see what eventuated.
Bailey stepped away, leaning on a street light, keeping one eye on the kids and the van while he made a phone call. Thursday was the one night he knew his dad wouldn’t be home.
“Mum?”
“Bailey. Oh honey, I’m so glad you’ve called.” Bailey’s felt a prickle at the back of his eyes as her voice washed over him. It’d had been way too long since he’d spoken to her and the happiness in her voice brought with it a surge of guilt. “Bailey? Are you there?”
He swallowed past the thickness in his throat. “Yeah, I’m here. How are you, Mum?”
“I’m fine, honey. More importantly, how are you? I haven’t heard from you for a couple of weeks. Are you doing okay?”
“I’m okay.”
“You’re still working at the energy company?”
“I am.” For now, at least. He pushed aside thoughts of the upcoming redundancies, as there was no point in worrying his mum needlessly. She had enough on her plate dealing with his father and Bailey’s little sister, Sarah. “What about Sarah? How’s she coping with high school? Have things settled down?”
“She’s doing much better.” Lightness returned to his mother’s voice. “She’s completed her first lot of exams and she’s fairly confident that her results will reflect all the study. It helped that she had support with the school making special provisions. Plus she’s joined the catering club. They meet a few times a term to prepare the food for school events and she loves it.”
Bailey smiled at the thought of his sister working alongside a group of her peers to cater for parents and teachers at the school. Even when she’d been tiny she’d loved to perch on a stool in the kitchen alongside their mum and help as she baked.
“And those girls?”
He heard his mother sigh at the mention of the group of girls who’d been determined to make Sarah’s start of high school a misery. “They’re still giving Sarah a hard time, but she’s found a lovely group of friends who are doing her the world of good. They do their homework together, and she’s been to the movies and even had a couple of sleepovers. You don’t have to worry, Bailey, she really is doing fine.”
It was just like his mum to know how much Bailey worried about Sarah. He always had and always would. Sarah had cerebral palsy. It was relatively mild and she was fairly mobile, the only obvious signs being a drag to her foot and a slight slurring of her speech, plus she struggled with some of the finer motor skills, but from the moment she’d started school, other kids had given her a hard time. At first, the younger ones hadn’t meant to single her out, rather they’d just been observant of her differences and asked thoughtless questions. There had been no malice but Sarah hated being asked why she limped and why she couldn’t talk properly. But as she got older, the questioning hadn’t stayed so innocent, the stares had turned into teasing, and Sarah had become more introverted. His bright and bubbly sister had become quiet and shy. Losing Stuart and the tension between Bailey and his father hadn’t helped—it was hard for Sarah and his mum, who had to tippy-toe around and live in a battle zone.
“Can I talk to her?”
“I’m sorry, honey. She’s in bed and asleep. The long days and adjusting to all the study are taking it out of her. Maybe if you call a little earlier next time?”
Bailey looked at the time. Nearly 10:00 p.m. He cleared his throat and pushed aside the guilt that he hadn’t called before Sarah’s usual bedtime. “Of course.” He then asked the question he asked on every phone call, although he wasn’t sure he really wanted to know the answer. “And how’s Dad?”
“Nothing much has changed since I last spoke to you. He’s at the club tonight.” Of course he was at the club; that was the reason Bailey had chosen tonight to call.
“You will contact me if you need anything, right, Mum? Anything at all.”
He heard her sigh again. “He’s not drinking so much, Bailey, and he’s good to Sarah and me. I know you and your dad don’t get along—I wish there was something I could do about that—but he’s not the man he was when you left. The first few years were tough but things have been different since he started the therapy. Grief does strange things to people, and it took some time for your father to get past what happened. Your father just couldn’t cope when we lost Stuart.” Her voice caught and Bailey wished he could reach through the phone and give her a huge hug to offer some comfort. His dad on the other hand? Fuck him! Bailey couldn’t muster any sympathy for the man who’d retreated into the bottle, behaved like an arsehole for years, and basically kicked him out of home the second he turned eighteen.
“Get out of here. I can’t bear the sight of you.” The words spat from his father’s mouth five years ago were as fresh as if they’d been spoken only yesterday.
“Bailey?”
He became aware of his mother on the end of the line and pulled himself back from the memories. “Sorry.”
“Honey, are you all right?”
He forced brightness into his voice. “I’m fine, Mum. Just feeling a little nostalgic.”
“I hope you’re remembering some of the good times.” There was a pause. “We did have some good times when you were growing up, Bailey.”
Tears prickled at the back of his eyes as he thought of his childhood growing up in Brisbane. He blinked furiously and cleared his throat. “Yeah, we did.”
“Are you still working with the kids?” The tension lessened when she changed the subject.
“Yeah.” He looked to the back of the van where the group had grown to six people perusing his book collection. Cassie was exclaiming over various novels, the joy clear in her broad smile. “You’d like some of the kids, Mum. They’re great. Some are shy and nervous, with good cause, and some are barely hanging on, but others just amaze me with their strength and positive attitude.”
“Just like you. So strong, Bailey. You’ve made a real life for yourself despite everything that happened. I wish things had been different.”
You and me both. Anyway, enough of the walk down memory lane. He shook his head.
“I’ve got to go, Mum. I’m with the kids now and I’ve got to get moving.”
“Be careful, honey. I know you love what you do and how important it is, but it’s dangerous out there.”
“If it’s dangerous for the couple of hours I’m here, then think how bad it is for the people who have no choice but to spend their life on the streets.”
“I understand, but it’s not going to stop me worrying about you. You’re still my little boy.”
“Say hi to Sarah for me.”
“I will. You’ll call again next week?”
“I’ll try. Love you, Mum.”
“Love you too, honey.”
He ended the call and pocketed his phone before plastering a smile on his face and heading over to make sure everyone had found something to read. Maybe he could even convince Emma to try something. He’d made that his new mission—a mission gave him something to focus on rather than his own depressing thoughts.