Page 19 of The Side Road (Love Chronicles #3)

SIT the monthly gathering of the Sit given the price of avocados, a tree teeming with the fruit would be an asset.

But the seed was still in the jar. The breakfast dishes stacked in the sink had not made their way to the dishwasher, either.

Noticing the compost was overflowing, Mia picked up the container and stepped toward the French doors that led to the back garden.

‘Leave that. I’ll do it later,’ Blanche said.

‘I’m almost outside,’ Mia dismissed.

The backyard resembled a market garden. Railway sleepers formed the raised beds, and nets covered the citrus trees, almost ready for a winter harvest. In the far corner was a well-used garden shed.

Leo, ankle-deep in the brassica bed, was stalking through broccoli, kale and cauliflower plants.

‘Do you like mustard greens?’ he called to her.

‘I’ll take anything you give me.’ Mia emptied the kitchen scraps into the compost bin.

‘You should know, she’s setting you up with Josh.’

Mia paused. ‘Who the fuck is Josh? ’

Leo let out a small laugh. ‘That’s what I said. You met him at the country club dance. He found you captivating.’

‘Well, he’s mistaken me for someone else because I didn’t go to the dance.’

Leo gave that some thought. ‘You picked us up, remember? Stayed for a chat. Indulge my wife, won’t you? It gives her something to do.’ Leo gave her a conspiratorial smile, which she didn’t return. She had no intention of indulging anyone.

When she returned to the kitchen, Blanche handed her a carton of milk. ‘Darling, smell this. It might be off, and it’ll do me more harm than you.’

Mia sniffed the carton. ‘It’s fine.’ She took a seat at the table.

Blanche added the milk to the mugs of hot water.

She jiggled the tea bag between the cups.

‘I can get three cups from one bag.’ She joined Mia at the kitchen table.

‘Now, I want to talk to you about Josh. He’s an English professor.

Teaches at the high school. Shocking dancer.

Gallops, like a horse, but no one’s perfect. He might ask you out.’

Mia’s heart sank. Her expression followed and she blinked despondently at her aunt.

‘I’m not suggesting you marry the man. Just go out with him. Dinner and a walk along the river. That sort of thing.’

Leo returned from the garden. He rinsed a handful of beans under the tap and left them to dry on a towel. ‘After the date, if he asks you in for coffee, it means sex. If he offers to cook dinner, it also means sex. Always be on guard,’ he said.

‘What if he offers to cook me lunch?’ Mia asked. ‘What does that mean?’

‘Oh, that’s a tricky one.’ Leo rubbed his palms over his thighs. ‘He might try to kiss you. Always be suspicious. And remember, the truth is more highly prized by women.’

‘That’s terrible advice,’ Mia said, her expression a mixture of amusement and disdain. ‘Let me get this straight. You want me to go out with Josh, not have sex with him, and freeze my eggs?’

‘When you put it like that,’ Blanche said.

Mia shook her head. ‘I will not be going out with Josh or anyone else.’

‘But, darling, don’t you want to find someone?’

‘I’m grateful that you care, and I know everything you do comes from a place of love, but you know what happened last time.’

‘You had a nasty cold, that’s all,’ Blanche said.

‘It was more than a cold. I cried for months. The truth is, I’m happy.’

‘Outrageous.’ Leo winked at her.

Mia smiled. ‘Do you want to know why I’m happy?’ She fixed her gaze on her aunt.

Blanche shrugged.

‘Because I don’t think about men anymore. I don’t look for single men at restaurants or cafes. I don’t change my clothes when I go down the street – worried I might bump into a man. It’s taken me three years to get to this point. I’m happy.’

Leo placed his hand over Mia’s. ‘We get it. You’ve done a great job of knitting yourself back together.’

‘Thank you.’

‘Well, you’ll meet Josh soon enough; he’s coming this evening.’ Blanche collected the empty mugs from the table and headed toward the sink.

‘What? Tonight?’

‘Yes. ’

‘ He knits ?’

‘Apparently.’

Mia checked the time. It was almost six; the knitters would arrive shortly.

After rinsing the mugs, Blanche started assembling a cheese platter.

Mia quickly joined the preparations. She tidied the kitchen, putting away the tea things, while Leo arranged glasses on the side table in the living room.

Following this, he moved the furniture, bringing in more chairs, which he placed in a circular formation around the room.

Then he opened two bottles of the cleanskin wine.

Sally was the first to arrive. A slim woman in her late twenties, from the moment Mia met her, she had wanted to wash Sally’s hair.

It had taken her months to work up the courage to attend a Sit that was the reason she was so disappointed in life. Her heart, which rarely opened, was not the sensitive kind.

Flora came for the wine and cheese, but she was good with granny squares and dishcloths. Abbey came with her son, Josh, the English professor.

Josh claimed the seat beside Mia. ‘Hello,’ he whispered. ‘You must be Mia. I’m Josh. We’re supposed to get married, raise two misbehaved kids, get a Labrador and spend the rest of our lives fucking miserable?’

He had a deep frown and a focused gaze, as if he thought about interesting things, which Mia thought might be books, and dimples when he smiled. She liked him immediately .

‘I already have a Labrador,’ she said.

‘Then you’ve saved us the trouble. What are you knitting?’

She showed him her vicuna, South American llama, jumper. ‘I’m almost finished, just the cuff to do. What are you working on?’

‘A sweater vest for my friend. I’ve done the back, and this is the front, but I’m having trouble with the V-neck. It keeps puckering. Abbey said you could help. She only knits scarves, so she’s no help.’

Mia took the knitting and examined the ribbing.

A tape measure appeared, and she ran it down the length of the work.

‘Decrease one stitch at the neck edge on every second row. I like this mauve wool.’ She handed the knitting back to Josh.

‘Will ours be a big wedding or a cosy backyard affair?’ she asked.

‘It will be a cosmic event. How do you feel about personalised stickers – Mia and Josh?’ He raised an eyebrow. ‘At the reception, we could have a wall of greenery with a neon love-centric slogan.’

‘You’ve given this some thought.’

‘Yes.’ Quickly, he continued. ‘Since we met at a Sit her heart was racing. Their opinions, like a quick-unpick, sliced through Oliver’s reputation.

Kristen paused her knitting and looked around the group. ‘I’m only saying what everyone else is thinking.’

‘I’m not thinking it,’ Josh said.

‘Me either,’ Mia agreed. She finished the last stitch on her jumper. Holding it up, she showed Josh the luxurious mohair garment .

‘Gorgeous,’ Josh confirmed. ‘Do you have somewhere special to wear it?’

Mia shook her head.

‘Has anyone seen that movie about the Labrador that found its way home to Alaska? ’ Abbey asked.

‘The dog was a husky, not a Labrador,’ Kristen said.

‘It was a bulldog, a Himalayan cat, and a golden retriever,’ Josh said.

‘I think that’s a different movie,’ Mia whispered.

Josh handed her his knitting, and she checked his stitches. The ribbing around the neck was progressing. She gave him a nod of approval.

After the Sit & Knit group had packed up their needles, wool, and unwanted opinions and returned to their own houses, Mia helped Blanche clean the kitchen and tidy the living room. She stacked the dishwasher while Leo collected the glasses and rearranged the furniture.

Gossip was unconfirmed discrimination that said more about the gossipers than it did about the person they were talking about. Mia knew this, yet their comments about Oliver had unsettled her, and uncertainty clouded viewpoints.

When Leo returned to the kitchen, Mia asked, ‘Do we…do we like Oliver?’ After placing the last glass in the dishwasher, she switched it on.

‘Good lord, no.’ Blanche handed her a towel so she could dry her hands.

Mia understood. The man had a reputation, and what that meant wasn’t entirely clear, but his past was questionable.

An unreliable, absent parent, he had shouldered Elsie with the burden of raising his child.

Mechanics, rather than breathing life into broken machines, were sub-humans.

A little pain escaped from her chest, and a sadness heavier than the rain filled her blue eyes.

‘We love him,’ Leo said.

Mia looked up. ‘But you just said?—’

‘We don’t just like him, we love him,’ Blanche agreed.

Folding the towel, Mia turned her back on them. ‘What exactly do you love about him?’

‘He’s been so good to Elsie – the man has the patience of a saint – he bought her a house, for god’s sake. He’s a wonderful father.’

‘And a terrific dancer,’ Leo said.

‘He dances?’

‘Swing dancing. His grandmother was an American.’

‘Really? A dancing mechanic, who would have thought?’

‘Cheer up,’ Leo said. ‘We won’t get much for you if you look like that.’

‘Yes,’ Blanche agreed. ‘We’d have to sell you at a discount. That won’t help our retirement fund.’

Mia offered them a gentle smile. Turning, she gazed through the French doors.

The back patio was wet. She didn’t realise it was raining.

Gardens all over town needed the water, and she couldn’t remember the last time it had rained in town.

In the distance, thunder rumbled. Her trip home on the bike might be hazardous.

If she left now, she might make it before the downpour began.