Ross
The next coupleof weeks were as blissful as they were exhausting. Dan and I spent pretty much all our free time together, usually sharing a meal, chatting, and watching something on TV before we headed to bed. And it didn’t matter whose bed that was. His or mine.
Life in Queensland had started to finally calm down. The devastation the fires left was terrifying, but one thing I was sure of was we’d bounce back.
We always did.
The storm promised had hit, bringing with it heavy downpours. After five days or so of unrelenting rain, it had finally stopped, helping saturate the ground. Sunshine had followed, along with the joy of mozzies and the welcome signs of green grass.
Already my cows and goats were happier.
After a few days of dry, the rain had started once more, the norm for our Queensland summers.
There wasn’t a chance we’d complain about the rain, even though we were on day four and it shifted between torrential to mildly soggy. Our water tanks were filling, the paddocks no longer looking like cracked land.
I expected the small creek to rise and block off that exit at the end of the road, but I welcomed every single drop. Flash floods were a given; it just seemed a big switch from terrifying fires and drought to more water than some of our dams or the creeks could take—or that would be the case if the rains continued.
In the wake of the fires was also the clean-up, the rebuilds, which led us closer to the start of the school year. Kids were due back next week, which meant staff had a week of respite in school preparing for the year ahead.
Dan had left my house early this morning, dotting a kiss on my mouth and wishing me luck on my first official day back. I smiled at the memory, an extra lightness in my step as I unlocked the library door and switched off the alarm.
It was only seven thirty, and I didn’t expect many other staff to be in until at least eight before the official start of training and preparation at eight forty-five. Being in early meant I could get ahead. I was running a session with the new staff at eleven, showing them the various systems for library use, the booking system, and the range of facilities we had on offer.
My aim was to not bore anyone to death. I knew full well the teachers were keen to get in their classrooms and spend their time planning, and today and Thursday were the main days they could get the majority of that done since tomorrow and Wednesday were the more intense mandatory training days.
I was always relieved as hell that I didn’t need to participate.
In the middle of unpacking a few of the boxes of books and stationery I’d ordered, I looked up when the door opened. Alec stepped through, shaking off the rain and throwing me a huge grin. Looking bronzed and relaxed, he was the picture of a PE teacher still in holiday mode.
“Hey, hey, Rosco. How was your break?” He reached out and shook my hand in greeting.
“Yeah, bit busy and crazy towards the end there, but I managed some downtime.”
He nodded, his face turning serious. “Yeah, heard how close it was. I feel a bit shit that I headed over to Bali for most of the break. Just flew in two days ago. Everyone okay?”
“Yeah, no local injuries. Some damaged property, but nothing we can’t manage, you know?”
He nodded. “Yeah, I get it. That’s a relief.”
“It is that.” My smile was back when I asked, “So, Bali, everything okay in the end? Have a good time?”
“And some,” he said, a salacious grin on his face. He looked thoroughly pleased with himself—his blue eyes bright, his slightly offset nose from too many breaks playing footy peeling slightly.
I rolled my eyes at him. “Do I want to know?” I asked, getting back to unpacking the books as I waited for him to respond.
“Probably not, but I can tell you over a few beers tonight.” He wriggled his brows up and down.
With a shake of my head, I snorted before answering, “Actually, I already have plans. Perhaps tomorrow?” Dan had already said he’d make dinner tonight at his, and I didn’t want to change my plans, not when a meal was followed up with the best dessert going.
“Huh,” Alec said, narrowing his eyes at me. “Hot date?” This was a typical question from him when I blew him off for meeting up for drinks, but it was usually said with jest. This time though, he must have read something in my expression, perhaps heard something in my voice that lent to a more serious phrasing of the question.
I considered dragging it out, winding him up a bit, but I couldn’t be arsed. “Yeah,” I answered, “I have.”
“You have?” His eyes were wide. The shock on his face quickly morphed into interest as a small smile settled on his mouth. “You have been busy, Rosco. Tell me more.”
I rolled my eyes at him. “Dan, my boyfriend.” I worked hard at containing my blush, feeling a bit idiotic at calling Dan my boyfriend. It was a term I always associated with being a kid, a teenager.
“Holy crap, Dan Madison?”
