Christmas Blue at Flynn's Page 3

  Gram’s eyebrows rose.

  Gramma’s eyebrows lowered.

  Sally scratched her head, bemused.

  Sid took another selfie before placing the mobile on the table and repeating, “Veterinary Hospital.”

  “Yes. Ben works at the vet’s.”

  “A nurse,” Gramma said slowly.

  “A vet nurse. He’s a very good vet nurse.” For the first time, she noticed everyone’s incredulous expressions. All except Dax, he just continued to grin that little grin. “What?”

  Gramma and Gram exchanged glances.

  “Ben’s a vet nurse?” Sally queried incredulously.

  Flynn nodded.

  “Isn’t that a girl’s job?” Sid asked.

  “No. Why would you say that?”

  “A vet nurse.” He snorted. “How many men do you know who are vet nurses?”

  “Apparently one - Ben.” Gram shrugged when Flynn looked at her in surprise. “Well, honey, you have to admit most men are vets. They don’t do the whole vet nurse thing.”

  Indignant at their reactions, she drew her shoulders back and sat up straight. “He’s a very good vet nurse. He likes animals. What’s wrong with that?”

  “Why didn’t he become a vet instead?” Winding a lock of hair around one finger, Sally regarded Flynn curiously. “That’s a more manly profession.”

  “Ben’s as manly as they come,” Flynn shot back. “He makes an honest living doing what he loves.”

  “Perceptions,” Dax murmured. “Perceptions people have of us can crush the spirit.” He reached for another Melting Moment. “I, for one, applaud him doing what he wants.”

  “You would,” Sally said.

  He didn’t even flinch. “I follow my own path.”

  “We noticed.” She took a snap with her mobile.

  Dax didn’t even blink.

  “Geez,” said Sid. “Ben’s a vet nurse. I need to get a photo of him in his uniform. Does he wear a skirt?” He smirked. “Stockings?”

  “You’re an idiot,” Gram said.

  “Joy.” Gramma tsked.

  “I’m just saying.”

  “Listen.” Hearing the snap in her voice, Flynn switched to a calmer tone. “Ben is happy doing what he does, all right? He’s my friend and I don’t want to hear anymore about it.”

  “Yes, but dear, you have to admit-” Gramma began.

  “No. No, Gramma, I don’t have to admit anything because there is nothing to admit.”

  “But-”

  “You heard the girl, Linda.” Gram picked up the mug of hot tea. “She’s happy with her man the way he is. Get over it.”

  Gramma sat stiffly.

  Bummer. This get-together was starting to get unpleasant. Time to switch subjects.

  “So,” Flynn said, “the sleeping arrangements. I’d planned on having Sally share my room and the two Grandmothers my spare room, and Dax, I was going to give you the third spare room. It does have my computer desk in there and some stuff, but the bed is really comfortable and there’s still the cupboard in there as well.”

  “No worries,” Dax replied. “Remnants of a person’s life give a good insight into their character.”

  “Right.” What the heck did that mean? “I’m sorry, Sid, I hadn’t planned on an extra person.”

  “It’s all good.” He was thumbing away on his mobile.

  “You’re very welcome, though.” That’s it, Flynn, the Spirit of Christmas and all. “The sofa is quite comfortable-”

  “No need.” Sally slid her arm around Sid’s neck. “We’re renting a motel room.”

  “A motel room?” Flynn was aghast. “You don’t have to do that. There’s room here.”

  “Yeah.” Gram nodded. “It’ll be a bit tight, but nothing we can’t all live with for a week.”

  “No, no. Besides, Sid and I keep all kinds of hours, and there’s a heap to see and do.” Sally grinned. “Plus we’re meeting up with friends.”

  “Friends?” Gramma frowned. “You live in another state for crying out loud. What friends could you possibly have here?”

  “Friends we made on the internet, of course.”

  “Internet?”

  “Our social media.”

  “Social media? So you haven’t met them personally?”

  “Not yet, but we will. In fact, we’re going out this evening to meet them, aren’t we, Sid?”

  “This evening?” Flynn echoed in dismay. “But I thought we could all catch up.”

  “Yep.” In the act of taking another biccie, Sid hesitated, withdrew his hand. “Have to watch the body.” He patted his rock-hard belly, winked.

  Sally gave his eight pack a rub, giggling as she rested her head on his bulging triceps. “And I do love watching this body!”

  Dax slanted a glance at Flynn. She couldn’t help but notice a small twinkle in his eerie eyes. Great, he thought it was hilarious. Her discomfort and dismay was funny. Well, she didn’t think any of this was funny. She’d planned the week and a family get-together and now Sally and her idiot boyfriend were-

  “We better get moving.” Sally leaped to her feet. “Thanks for the morning tea, Flynn. Grandmas, we’ll see you later this afternoon, okay? Pop back on our way to meet with our friends. Come on, Sid.”

  “But surely-” Flynn tried again.

  “Nice to meet you.” Standing, Sid waggled his eyebrows while holding out his arms to her. “Kissing cousins?”

  Sally giggled.

  Flynn wanted to hurl. First her stomach at the suggestion, then the tea mug at his head.

  “Playing with fire,” Gram commented.

  “No kissing cousins,” snapped Gramma. “Not in this family!”

  “Not even a cousin,” Dax murmured.

  “Ah well.” Dropping his arms, Sid swung around. “Come on, Sally. The taxi should be here by now.”

  Seeing that there was no stopping them - and Flynn wasn’t so certain she really wanted to now after his sleazy suggestion - she followed them to the front door and out onto the veranda.

  Sure enough, there was a taxi just pulling into the driveway. Standing on the top step, arms folded, she watched silently as Sally and Sid put their suitcases into the boot.

  Gram came up on one side of her. “No real loss.”

  “Shocking manners.” Gramma came up on her other side. “Just what I’d expect from Sally, though. Always was a self-absorbed twit.”

  “Have to agree with you there.” Gram waved cheerfully at the two as they got into the taxi.

  “We’ll have no one to take photos now.” Dax passed Flynn to sit on the step below her. “What a shame.”

  Flynn smiled determinedly. Okay, Sally and Sid weren’t going to be here all the time but it wasn’t all bad. She wasn’t really sorry about Sid not being around much, he was a slime ball, but Sally disappointed her.

  Remember its Christmas. One week. That’s it. Just one week.

  Then several things happened at once.

  “Hey!” a grumpy voice yelled from the house next door. “What the blue-blazes is that in your yard, Flynn? A motorbike? I saw those taxis arrive. You’re not planning on a wild party, are you?”

  “Oh, my,” Gramma breathed at the sight of the grumpy-faced elderly man adjusting his glasses as he glared over the fence at them.

  A heavy motorbike roared up the street and turned into the house directly opposite. The man swinging off it wore an oil-stained t-shirt, ragged jeans, heavy bikie boots, black wrap-around glasses, and a grey beard down to his sternum.

  Gram’s face brightened. “Hot damn!”

  A sweet-faced young woman with a straw sun hat, dainty flower-printed maxi dress, a basket looped over her arm and red hair in a thick braid down her back, walked past the gate.

  Dax straightened from his slouch, his white face turning to follow her progress. “Well, hello, little ray of sunshine on a dark day.”

  Flynn groaned silently. Oh, just…great.

  Chapter 2

  Monday�
�s were always busy at the veterinary hospital. Animals that had gotten sick over the weekend or been involved in accidents and mishaps, appointments being made, the phone ringing, vet consults, cages to clean, animals to monitor before, during and after their operations, and sedations. There was a dog with gastro in the isolation ward, a cat recovering from a motor vehicle accident in the intensive care area with a drip running and a vet monitoring her progress. Being one nurse down, the other vet nurses were under the pump.

  Didn’t matter, Ben loved it. He loved the animals big and small, he loved tending to them, advising their owners, monitoring their progress.

  That morning was particularly trying, however, and by the afternoon even he found his normal good humour tested. He wasn’t sorry to see the vet hospital closed for the day.

  Dropping into the grocery store on his way home, he filled a small carry basket with some odds and ends. He was contemplating the chips when he spotted a familiar face. And then he did a double-take as he spotted who was beside him.

  Holy heck, was that really sweet Rosie with Dax? Ben blinked. Yes, yes it was. Dax was carrying her little straw basket, his dramatic make-up and all-black ensemble drawing the attention of some shoppers and finger-pointing by some little kids. This time Dax was wearing a black peaked cap with a silver chain where the peak joined the hat, and a white death’s head badge smack in the middle.

  In contrast, Rosie drifted along in all her sweet, old-fashioned glory, looking like something out of a romantic country scene - long, flowing, pastel-flowered dress, flat sandals, straw hat atop her red hair. She was laughing up at Dax, who smiled slightly back down at her.

  Ben blinked. Seriously? Sweet Rosie and Goth Dax? Was there a weirder pairing? He found himself actually peering around the end of the aisle they walked up just to make sure they were really Rosie and Dax.

  Yep, it was undoubtedly them.

  Wow.

  Shaking his head, Ben returned to the chip and confectionary aisle. Finally deciding on the cheese and onion flavoured chips, he added a bag of caramel-filled chocolate and moved to the checkout. Man, he couldn’t wait to shower and flop on his sofa, watch some mindless TV while eating. Maybe invite Flynn around to share his snacks and - wait, no, she had visitors. No way would she desert them. Darn.

  With a sigh, he walked to his car, got in and started home.

  He was halfway there when a motorbike roared past him. His mouth dropped open. What the…? He blinked. Surely he wasn’t seeing… He actually leaned forward over the steering wheel to peer at the bike. Cripes, there was no doubting it, he’d recognise that grey beard flowing back over the bikie’s shoulder, just as he’d recognise the sleeveless leather vest with Go To Hell printed brazenly across the back and the sticker stuck on the black helmet of a middle finger giving anyone behind him the bird. Just as he recognised the hot pink motorbike and hot pink sidecar in which Rocky was sitting, the whole eye-watering contraption being driven by Hell’s Granny in her hot pink sleeveless vest and tight jeans, below which stuck out hot pink bike boots.

  What-the-ever-freakin’-lovin’-heck?

  He was still staring, mouth open, when the motorbike indicated and turned left onto the main highway, roaring off to leave him slowly closing his mouth, his fingers easing on the steering wheel.

  Seriously, had he fallen down the rabbit hole into Yahoo Land?

  Wondering just what Flynn thought about all this, he pulled into the garage, took the shopping out of the boot, and walked outside with the door rattling closed behind him.

  A quick, customary glance over at Flynn’s house revealed crabby old Archie Browne sitting on her veranda clutching a glass of something. Gramma sat beside him. Both of them watched him.

  Unable to wave with the grocery bags in each hand, he instead inclined his head. “Hi.”

  “Ben.” Archie nodded stiffly.

  “Ben.” Gramma smiled slightly but there was a definite coolness in her eyes.

  Uh oh. What had he done to earn her disapproval? He knew why he had Archie’s disapproval, but Gramma’s? He hadn’t known her long enough, surely.

  Wait, maybe it was because he’d left right in the middle of morning tea. Yeah, that had to be it. “Sorry I had to leave. Emergency.”

  “At the vet,” Archie replied. “Assisting the vet, were you?”

  No, I was sitting with my thumb up my arse while Derek did all the work, because that’s all I’m good for in your opinion, Ben wanted to reply, but mindful of the fact that one, Archie was elderly and so deserved respect, and two, that Flynn’s grandmother was present and also deserved respect, he bit his tongue. “Yep.”

  “Guess some men have to do the drudge work.”

  It was an old argument, so Ben simply shrugged and turned away.

  “Maybe you should look at being a vet instead,” Gramma suggested. “Men become vets, you know.”

  “So do women.” He walked up the path to the veranda, every step just a little more annoyed.

  Cripes, couldn’t Archie even resist poisoning Flynn’s grandmother with his acid opinion of men who took on what were, in his opinion, girly jobs? Normally Ben could ignore it but Gramma was related to Flynn, and Ben was trying to get closer to Flynn, but if Gramma was going to ride his case then hell, maybe it would make Flynn look differently at him, too.

  No sooner had that thought flitted through his mind than he discarded it. No, Flynn would never do that, she wasn’t that kind of woman.

  However, Archie wasn’t finished. As Ben opened the door and made to step inside, he yelled out, “Women like a man’s man, Ben! Just remember that!”

  Like he could forget when Archie constantly belittled Ben’s job. Gah!

  More than happy to shut out the world, Ben locked the security screen and took the bags into the kitchen, passing the lounge where Phoebe lay snoozing on her back on the sofa.

  Scruff got up from his position near the back door and whined. Dropping the bags onto the table, Ben squatted down and ruffled the little dog’s ears, rewarded with a lick and a madly wagging tail.

  “Ready for a leak?” Standing, he swung open the back door to let Scruff out into the yard. “Out you…” His voice trailed away as the Yorkie shot past him to snuffle at the woman sitting despondently on his back steps.

  Flynn patted Scruff listlessly.

  “Hey.” Pleased to see her, but nevertheless concerned, Ben sat down beside her on the steps, his thigh brushing hers.

  “Hey,” Flynn replied.

  Elbows on his knees, he leaned forward to peer into her face. “Everything okay?”

  “Great. Just wonderful.”

  His eyebrows rose at the monotone of her normally cheerful tone.

  “The Darkness has taken off with the Sunlight.”

  Not hard to figure that one out. “Dax and Rosie.”

  “Hell’s Granny and Up-Yours have roared off into the sunset.”

  His lips twitched. “Grams and Rocky.”

  “Crabby and Opinionated have teamed up.”

  “Gramma and Archie.”

  “Mobile Bimbo and Sleazy have taken up residence in a motel.”

  “Sally and Sid.”

  “Mobile Bimbo and Sleazy have other friends.”

  “Ah. Wait, really?”

  “Met them on the internet. Social media.”

  “Okay.”

  “They have lots to do, places to see, strangers to embrace.”

  “Mmm.”

  “Oh God, Ben.” Her face dropped into her palms. “What have I done?”

  “Now, now.” Shifting closer, he slung an arm around her shoulders. “It’s okay.”

  “It’s not okay! They were only here an hour yesterday - an hour - and they were out the door with their new buddies! They’ve spent most of today with them, too. How is that okay?” She sniffed.

  “Oh babe, don’t cry.” He tugged her nearer.

  Her head dropped against his shoulder. He should have been more concerned, but instead allowed himsel
f to indulge in the luxury of having Flynn leaning on him in her despair. He wanted to always be here for her to lean on. This was actually her first time, but it was a little fantasy come true so he indulged.

  Then commonsense took over.

  Not enough to push her away, however. He cradled her close. “Sometimes you just have to let the kids stretch their wings.”

  She was silent for several seconds before lifting her head to eye him.

  Good news was her eyes were dry.

  Bad news was her eyes were narrowed.

  “Are you laughing at me, Ben?”

  “Not at all. I’m just trying to, you know, lighten the mood.”

  “I don’t want light. I want sympathy.”

  “You got it.”

  ‘I want empathy.”

  “You got it.”

  “I want compassion.”

  “You got it.”

  “I want chocolate.”

  He grinned. “I got it.”

  “Really? Chocolate?”

  “With caramel filling.”

  “Okay, I’m feeling better already.”

  Pushing to his feet, Ben grabbed her hand and hoicked her up. “I’ve also got cheese and onion chips.”

  “I love you, Ben.”

  If only that were true, but the eager glint in her eyes was all for chocolate and chips, her comfort food. But he’d accept it. After all, he was all about support and shit, and if the way to her heart was through a broad shoulder, a sympathetic ear and junk food, he was on the right path.

  In the kitchen, Flynn took two Diet Cokes from the ‘fridge and popped the tabs, placing one on the kitchen bench next to where Ben poured the chips into a bowl. Leaning against the bench, she picked out a chip and took a bite. “Yum. Nice.”

  Laughing, he handed her the chips. “Let’s go into the lounge.”

  Taking the bowl, she walked ahead of him.

  Picking up the cold can of soft drink and the bag of chocolate, Ben followed her through into the lounge where they flopped onto the sofa. Because Phoebe was at one end and refused to shift, Flynn sat in the middle with Ben beside her, the bowl of chips resting on her thighs.

  Phoebe opened an eye to regard Flynn lazily.

  “You’re a traitor,” Flynn informed her.

  Phoebe blinked.