Slow Grind (Men of Mornington)

“Yep. Well, she was. She’s on her way back, apparently.”

“Aubrey,” Em repeats, a grin on her lips. I narrow my eyes at her suspiciously. “What?” she says defensively. “So I might have had a little crush on her when we were younger. She wasn’t hot then, but based on the pictures I’ve seen of her recently, I might just act on that schoolgirl crush.”

“Dude, you were twelve the last time you saw her. How were you crushing on anyone at twelve?” I laugh.

“I don’t understand what you’re getting at? I’m sure you had a thing for a few girls at that age. So did I.”

“Did you even know you were into girls when you were twelve?” I chuckle.

When she was fifteen, she let me in on the secret that she liked girls as well as boys. I thought that was too young to know what you want, but I went with it; after all, most of us have our first love by then, what would make her any different? She’s my sister and shit like that doesn’t matter. She finally came out to our parents last year. I think she was scared of what they were going to think, but they were fine with it. As if there was ever any doubt. There are a lot of families in town that would have a fit if their child were anything other than straight, but in this house, we love each other because of all the things that set us apart and make us individuals. They’d be more upset if she hid her true identity.

“Of course I did,” she growls, her cheeks flaming. “When did you know you were into girls?” I make a face. That would be second grade when Kally Sampson sat next to me, and I got an erection. Most embarrassing memory of my childhood. Em nods triumphantly. “So why should it be any different for me?”

“Okay, you’ve made your point,” I sigh, rolling my eyes. “Can we get back on track now? Aubrey is on her way over. I’m not sure what the go is with their dad.”

“And Mrs. Robinson?” Em says with a laugh. She doesn’t know about the incident that shall not be talked about, but she’s seen how Ms. Rosewood is with me when she thinks nobody else is looking. “I bet Max being sick is very inconvenient on her busy schedule of humping the pool boy and planning useless charity auctions.”

“I’m sure you’re not far off the mark,” I laugh. “Speaking of which, I just wish there was something we could do to help Max, you know?”

She shrugs. “Just be there for the guy. More than anything, he probably just wants to be able to forget. That’s something you can do for him.”

I nod and stab at my chicken and pop it into my mouth. It’s just as delicious as I remember, but I can’t enjoy it thinking about Max. She’s right. All I can do for him is be strong and try to take his mind off what’s happening. It doesn’t feel like enough, but I’m not a doctor or a scientist. I don’t have a magic cure stuffed up my sleeve.

No matter how much I wish I did.

*****

After dinner, I hang around Mum’s place for a few hours and watch TV. Eventually, I drag myself home, knowing I have to get up early for work. Wayne is great, but after slacking off today, I don’t want to push my luck by rocking up late. The last thing I want is for him to feel unappreciated for his unnecessary kindness. It’s hard to find a good job these days, let alone a good boss. I’ve hit the jackpot with both.

I’ve been working for Wayne since I finished my apprenticeship eight years ago. Holy shit. Eight years in one place feels like a lifetime. My parents never tried to push me into going to Uni once I finished high school. They knew that wasn’t for me. Unlike most of my friends, I actually got a say in where my life was headed. I’d always loved fiddling with shit, so when Wayne offered me a job at his workshop, it was an easy decision. Welding is hard work, but at the same time, it’s rewarding. I love what I do, and I wouldn’t swap it for anything.

Exce

pt for maybe more time with my best mate. I’d give up anything for that. Hell, without sounding creepy, I’d give up sex for the dude.

It can’t end like this. After all we’ve been through, there has to be more for Max because I can’t imagine my life without him. In a crazy world full of unknowns, he’s been a great best mate, always making sure the rest of the guys and I are good. I refuse to sit back and watch him waste away. Fuck that shit. There has to be something we can do for him now that he needs us most.

I won’t rest until I figure out what that is.

Chapter Four

Aubrey

I struggle with my oversized suitcase, cursing to myself as the wheel keeps catching, causing the stupid thing to overbalance. In the end, I just give up and lug it through the airport baggage claim area on its side. I’m getting strange looks from nearly everyone I pass, but whatever. I don’t see anyone rushing over to help me.

As soon as I step out of the airport, I’m hit with a brisk wind, reminding me winter is just around the corner instead of the impending summer I was looking forward to hitting in New York in a few weeks. I shiver, running my hand over my bare arm. Why didn’t I bring a jacket? After spending half of my life living in Australia, you’d think I would remember the seasons are flip-flopped in the Southern Hemisphere. I glance down at my suitcase, trying to remember how many warm items I packed. Probably not enough. Guess that means I’ll have to go shopping then.

I scan the five-minute parking zone, where my mother said she would be, feeling apprehensive about being back here. It’s been so long; it hardly feels like the place where I once called home. Don’t get me wrong; I was born an Aussie and I’ll die one, but America is my home now. I’m happy there. The only thing this place has over it is Max.

Luckily, I easily spot Mum, who, thanks to plastic surgery and magical anti-aging creams, hasn’t changed at all. She cranes her neck to scan the crowd of people searching for their rides, oblivious to the fact I’m walking toward her. Even when I’m literally inches from her, she still hasn’t noticed me. I smirk. Probably because I look nothing like the twelve-year-old who left here nine years ago.

“You don’t recognise me at all, do you?” I ask. Her eyes widen in shock, but she recovers quickly, leaning over to peck me on the cheek.

“Of course I do, Aubrey,” she says. “It’s good to see you.” She pushes her chestnut locks away from her face, the wind having blown them all around. Moving closer to me, no doubt just in case someone who runs in the same circle as her notices she’s picking up a younger, mirror image of herself, she attempts to kiss me. I back away, giving a silent cue she picks up on quickly.

I nod in response to her welcome and follow her over to her car. I want to laugh; we can’t even fill a few minutes with small talk, even after nearly ten years without seeing each other. We reach her car, and after loading my stuff in the boot, I go to get in the passenger seat. Only it’s not the passenger seat; it’s the driver’s. Shaking my head at how much I’ve really forgotten, I move around to the other side of the car and climb in the appropriate seat and fasten my buckle.

Instead of chatting and catching up, which I’m too nervous to do anyway, the hour ride back to her house is spent listening to an audio book about dealing with children with cancer. I pick up the cover to the book and laugh. It was written by the Royal Children’s Hospital. I don’t have the heart to tell her Max is a twenty-seven-year-old man and not a little boy.