Someone Like You(3)

'A complete stranger?' Julia asked with raised eyebrows.

'Well, a distant acquaintance. I barely know the bloke.'

'We've tried everything else, Lizzie,' Julia said softly.

'Well, thanks,' Lizzie replied. 'You're saying I'm your only hope?'

'Yeah,' Ry grinned. 'You're like our Obi-Wan Kenobi.'

'I think that makes me Princess Leia,' Julia grinned. They laughed. They  needed to. The three of them sat in silence, each wondering how to help  a friend who didn't seem to want any help.

'So, what did you do with the food?' Julia asked.

'I left it on the front door mat. I was under strict instructions from my boss.' Lizzie winked at Julia. 'He's such a tyrant.'         

     



 

Ry gave her the smallest hint of a smile. 'Lizzie, you know why we sent you.'

'What, my charming bedside manner?' Behind the flippancy, there was a  strange tightening in her chest. She tried to keep her face a blank. She  didn't want to understand what Ry was talking about, didn't want to  remember flirting with Dan, just twenty steps from where she was now  sitting, on the night of his accident. Whatever had been flickering in  the air between them had been extinguished in the car wreck. She hadn't  seen him since that night.

Julia reached for the bottle and refilled their glasses. 'You know why.  When he regained consciousness, his first words were "pub" and  "Elizabeth". You're the one he asked after. Not me or Ry.'

'Well.' Lizzie blew out a sigh. 'Take note of the order. "Pub" came  first because I was the last person he talked to that night. Right over  there.' Lizzie pointed to the wooden bar. 'It's a trick of memory,  Jools, that's all. You're making something out of nothing.'

Lizzie would never tell them that she remembered every word of the last  conversation she'd had with Dan before he drove off that terrible night  and was almost killed. It had been her last week pulling beers before Ry  had promoted her to manager and Dan McSwaine had walked in, all sexy  swagger and confident charm. They'd met before that, as the best friends  of lovers invariably do, but something about him had been different  that particular night. Yes, they'd shared a moment, a flirting,  promising moment. And then, for the thousandth time since, she asked  herself the same relentless questions. Why hadn't she made him stay for  one more minute? Why hadn't she cracked one more joke, teased him one  more time, so that he left one minute later, so he would have been  driving up Flagstaff Hill Road one minute too late for the truck that  careened out of control and smashed into him?

She turned to face her friends, and a cold shiver moved across her  shoulders. 'Dan would rather slam the door in my face than open it and  invite me in. I'm sure I'm the last thing on his mind. And frankly,' she  added, straightening her back, 'he's the last thing on mine.' Lizzie  hoped that if she said it enough times, it might turn out to be true.

'What can we do to help him?' Ry asked, looking from Julia to Lizzie and back.

Lizzie patted Ry's shoulder. 'He's your best friend. Don't give up on him, no matter how much of a pain in the arse he is.'

'Of course I'm not bloody well giving up on him.' Dan said, his blue eyes flaming.

'Pushing him won't help, you know that,' Lizzie said.

'You think I've been pushing him?' Ry's eyebrows shot up. 'I've just been trying to get him to man up and snap out of it.'

The two women turned to him in disbelief.

'You told him to man up?' Julia's voice was a shocked whisper.

'Not in those exact words.'

'You can't force him to do anything he doesn't want to do,' Lizzie  added. 'Like take free food, for instance. He clearly wants to be alone.  So leave him in his man cave.'

And then Ry and Julia did that thing where they looked at each other and  had a conversation without saying anything out loud. Lizzie bit the  inside of her lip.

'We need you, Obi-Wan,' Julia said.

Lizzie replied with an adamant shake of her head and crossed her arms.  There were plenty of reasons to stay out of Dan's life. Millions.  Trillions. 'I don't have time. It's nearly summer holidays. It's crazy  busy here until February.'

'What else can we do?' Ry said. 'We can't just let him hole up in that crappy old house.'

'Hey, watch your mouth. That was my mother's house!' Julia smacked Ry's arm playfully.

'Yeah and it's still a crappy old house, JJ. But Dan seems to love it.'

'You're crazy if you think I'm going to go over there and have the door  slammed in my face again. No freakin' way, Jose. And,' Lizzie added,  pointing her finger in the air to add dramatic effect, 'he keeps calling  me Elizabeth, which I hate.'

Julia leaned over the table. 'Will you just promise me one thing,  Lizzie? We have to head up to Adelaide for a few days. Ry has a board  meeting and I'm lunching with a potential client for my new business.  Will you take Dan something to eat?'

That was a low blow. How could Lizzie say no to her best friend?

'Oh, for God's sake.'

'Just food,' Ry added.         

     



 

Lizzie set her lips in a tight line. 'Food. That's it. No therapy. No hugs. No pushing.'

'Great.' Julia squeezed her hand. Ry shot her a satisfied smile. Lizzie  hoped they weren't expecting miracles. Because in her experience  miracles didn't happen. They were like mirages on a hot bitumen road.  Illusory and fleeting. When you reached out for them, they vanished.

The next evening, a cool breeze came in off the Southern Ocean and  danced with the trees of Middle Point as Lizzie headed towards Dan's  house. The sun was almost gone for the day, but there were still crowds  on the beach. The sand was dotted with sun shelters, retro  green-and-white striped canvas awnings mixed in with new blue igloos.  Families were gathered around eskies and the zinc-creamed noses of  toddlers peeked out from under sun-safe hats. At least someone was still  having fun today, Lizzie thought. She'd worked a full and exhausting  day at the pub and had aching feet and tired eyes to prove it. Here she  was on her way to Dan's. Again.

The arrangement was simple and clear-cut. All she had to do was drop off  the food. Knock on the door, hand over the booty and skedaddle as fast  as possible. And if he slammed the door in her face again? That was  about him, not her. If it made him feel better, good for him. She had a  busy life and she wanted to get back to it.

Lizzie rapped three times on the door. Firm. Efficient. Businesslike. And waited.

Dan heard the knocking and rose slowly from his chair at the kitchen  table. A quick glance through the curtain and all he could see was a  vague shape through the opaque windows. It was already twilight; the sun  had dipped below the cliffs of Middle Point and the curtain was closing  on the day.

He scratched his beard. He hadn't been expecting anyone and more  importantly, didn't want to see anyone. He found a scowl, an expression  that was very useful at fending off whoever it was who had  good-neighbourliness or conversation in mind.

As he opened the door, he wasn't sure what hit him first: the cooling  sea breeze that whistled in and teased the hair out of his eyes or the  smell of clean hair and flowers.

Elizabeth. With a smile so dazzling it made him blink.

'Hi Dan.' Lizzie propped her sunglasses up on top of her head. The smile  wasn't just on her lips. It was in her eyes too. They were big and as  blue as the ocean over her shoulder, bigger eyes than any he'd ever seen  on any other woman. Her friendliness threw out his game plan. There was  no sign on her face that she was pissed at him for his behaviour the  day before, which he was relieved about, because she had every right to  be.

'Hi,' he said gruffly, clearing his throat.

'Thought you might like some salt and pepper squid.' Lizzie held out the day's delivery.

Dan looked at the bag in her hand. 'More food?'

'More food. Any problems with that and you'll need to talk to the boss.'

'I'm not hungry.'

Lizzie shrugged her shoulders. 'You might be later.' And damn her, she  didn't budge. The Dan he used to be would have come up with an easy  flirt, a tease and a cocked eyebrow when he had a beautiful woman on his  doorstep. And he wouldn't have left her standing there for more than  ten seconds.

The man he was now found himself flat-out speechless. And as they did  the Mexican standoff on the front step, he realised the only way he was  going to get her to leave was to take the damn food.

With a silent curse, Dan stepped out of his house and onto the front  door mat. He reached down and slipped his fingers through the handles of  the bag. As he did, the back of his hand brushed against hers, cool and  soft, and he was so close to her that he could see individual strands  of her golden hair falling in a fringe across her tanned forehead. And  there it was again. Flowers. Her scent. Her hair. Her baby blues and  that dazzling smile. Something shifted in him, only a degree, but there  was a shift.

When she looked up at him, her smile was gone.

Before he could even manage a reluctant thank you, Lizzie had spun  around and was walking with great purpose along the verandah and down  the driveway towards the street. As she disappeared into the sunset, he  felt a pang of something in his gut, something so weird that he held his  hand there to quell it.