returned...
Were the lights in the kitchen flickering? The door was ajar. He pushed it.
‘Surprise!’
Whack!
Reece staggered backwards, stunned to find the room full of grinning faces. Ryan and Jim, the neighbours he’d been working with all day. Cath and Bill Anderson from Half Moon station. His dad, grinning from ear to ear. Jess, looking sensational in what had to be, hands down, the most attractive little black dress he’d ever seen.
Candles, stuck in bottles or in tin lids, flickered from every bench top. The table was set with a snowy white cloth and decorated with coloured streamers and the best dinnerware and silver.
‘Happy Birthday!’ everyone shouted, and before he could react they broke into rowdy rendition of the birthday song.
He felt suddenly weak as a kitten, and he wasn’t sure if his knees were still working. A rock the size of Uluru filled his throat and the backs of his eyes stung.
The last time this had been sung for him he’d been five years old.
* * *
Halfway through singing, Jess’s throat felt too tight to go on. She’d been so excited, waiting for this moment. All day her excitement had mounted as she’d worked hard and fast to pull the party together—making phone calls, cooking, cleaning, hunting through the house for everything she needed. Then, there’d been the tension of getting Rosie to sleep and keeping everyone else quiet when Reece arrived home.
And now—
Now, he looked so shocked and incredulous and downright emotional Jess wanted to cry. No one should be that surprised by a birthday party. Surely?
The song came to an end. Everyone cheered and clapped and moved forward to shake Reece’s hand or, in Cath Anderson’s case, to give him a kiss and a hug.
At least he was grinning now—the grin was a bit shaky and he was looking a little flushed perhaps, but his smile held as he returned backslaps and greetings. He even hugged Michael, which was nice. And then it was Jess’s turn.
Reece stepped towards her and she was suddenly super aware of him. His dark hair, damp and sexily rumpled after he’d towelled it dry. His shirt hanging open to reveal the shadow of more dark hair on his chest.
She must have been staring and he must have noticed, for he quickly did up his shirt buttons.
‘Happy Birthday, Reece.’ She dropped a quick peck on his cheek and she smelled lemon-scented soap on his skin.
His deep brown eyes were a little too shiny. ‘Did you do all this?’
‘It was Michael’s idea.’ This time she didn’t feel so bad about dobbing in his father.
‘But you organised it. You did the legwork.’
‘It was fun.’
His gaze travelled over her and his eyes were so appreciative he made her shiver. ‘Thanks,’ he said softly.
‘Can we eat?’ chimed in Michael. ‘I’m starving.’
* * *
It wasn’t a late night. Being country folk, everyone had to face early rises in the morning, but the dinner was a lively affair, the conversation convivial. The Andersons had brought wine, which went well with the baked chicken breasts, smashed garlic potatoes and a side dish of broccoli with pine nuts. The rich chocolate layer cake was a hit.
As soon as he’d eaten Michael retired to bed, and, after coffees, Reece went out onto the veranda to farewell his guests while Jess started rinsing plates and stacking the dishwasher. She was almost finished when she heard the vehicles driving away. She closed the dishwasher, turned it on. With the first soft swish of the water filling the machine, Reece came back into the kitchen.
‘That was amazing,’ he said quietly.
‘I’m glad you enjoyed it.’
‘I did. Everyone had a great time. The food was sensational.’
‘If I’d had more warning, we could have invited more people.’
‘Jess, it was brilliant. The best birthday party I’ve ever had.’
‘Really?’ It was hardly a party.
Reece was smiling as he shook his head. ‘Believe me. It was a stand out.’
She caught a flash of sadness in his eyes.
Were the lights in the kitchen flickering? The door was ajar. He pushed it.
‘Surprise!’
Whack!
Reece staggered backwards, stunned to find the room full of grinning faces. Ryan and Jim, the neighbours he’d been working with all day. Cath and Bill Anderson from Half Moon station. His dad, grinning from ear to ear. Jess, looking sensational in what had to be, hands down, the most attractive little black dress he’d ever seen.
Candles, stuck in bottles or in tin lids, flickered from every bench top. The table was set with a snowy white cloth and decorated with coloured streamers and the best dinnerware and silver.
‘Happy Birthday!’ everyone shouted, and before he could react they broke into rowdy rendition of the birthday song.
He felt suddenly weak as a kitten, and he wasn’t sure if his knees were still working. A rock the size of Uluru filled his throat and the backs of his eyes stung.
The last time this had been sung for him he’d been five years old.
* * *
Halfway through singing, Jess’s throat felt too tight to go on. She’d been so excited, waiting for this moment. All day her excitement had mounted as she’d worked hard and fast to pull the party together—making phone calls, cooking, cleaning, hunting through the house for everything she needed. Then, there’d been the tension of getting Rosie to sleep and keeping everyone else quiet when Reece arrived home.
And now—
Now, he looked so shocked and incredulous and downright emotional Jess wanted to cry. No one should be that surprised by a birthday party. Surely?
The song came to an end. Everyone cheered and clapped and moved forward to shake Reece’s hand or, in Cath Anderson’s case, to give him a kiss and a hug.
At least he was grinning now—the grin was a bit shaky and he was looking a little flushed perhaps, but his smile held as he returned backslaps and greetings. He even hugged Michael, which was nice. And then it was Jess’s turn.
Reece stepped towards her and she was suddenly super aware of him. His dark hair, damp and sexily rumpled after he’d towelled it dry. His shirt hanging open to reveal the shadow of more dark hair on his chest.
She must have been staring and he must have noticed, for he quickly did up his shirt buttons.
‘Happy Birthday, Reece.’ She dropped a quick peck on his cheek and she smelled lemon-scented soap on his skin.
His deep brown eyes were a little too shiny. ‘Did you do all this?’
‘It was Michael’s idea.’ This time she didn’t feel so bad about dobbing in his father.
‘But you organised it. You did the legwork.’
‘It was fun.’
His gaze travelled over her and his eyes were so appreciative he made her shiver. ‘Thanks,’ he said softly.
‘Can we eat?’ chimed in Michael. ‘I’m starving.’
* * *
It wasn’t a late night. Being country folk, everyone had to face early rises in the morning, but the dinner was a lively affair, the conversation convivial. The Andersons had brought wine, which went well with the baked chicken breasts, smashed garlic potatoes and a side dish of broccoli with pine nuts. The rich chocolate layer cake was a hit.
As soon as he’d eaten Michael retired to bed, and, after coffees, Reece went out onto the veranda to farewell his guests while Jess started rinsing plates and stacking the dishwasher. She was almost finished when she heard the vehicles driving away. She closed the dishwasher, turned it on. With the first soft swish of the water filling the machine, Reece came back into the kitchen.
‘That was amazing,’ he said quietly.
‘I’m glad you enjoyed it.’
‘I did. Everyone had a great time. The food was sensational.’
‘If I’d had more warning, we could have invited more people.’
‘Jess, it was brilliant. The best birthday party I’ve ever had.’
‘Really?’ It was hardly a party.
Reece was smiling as he shook his head. ‘Believe me. It was a stand out.’
She caught a flash of sadness in his eyes.
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