Our communication was sporadic with the time difference let alone life getting in the way, but she was a constant in my world. It didn’t matter if we went weeks without chatting, when we did, I was sure of two things – she wouldn’t send a message without tellingme which Crayola crayon best represented her mood at that very moment, and she always made me happy. Which as pathetic as it was, were highlights in my life.
She was so many things to me. The innocence of childhood and late nights in the backyard building the biggest and best worlds with only our imaginations and anything we could find in the natural environment. The awkwardness and treasured moments of adolescence including my very first kiss in our shared backyard space. And she was the reliability of adulthood. A friend I knew was always close if only through the phone – and now she was coming back. Returning to the place she once lived as my crazy next-door neighbour. Although this time, she wasn’t the little girl with a missing front tooth and a giggle I could still hear if I thought back to our shared childhood memories. She wasn’t that gangly twelve-year-old who with a confidence I could only dream of took my dare to kiss me the night before her family moved and pressed her lips against mine.
She was so much more. With her deep chocolate hair and hazel eyes, she was the one woman I never had to hide from because she was always approximately sixteen hours behind on an entirely different continent.
She wasn’t in the elevator at work asking me why I was still single. Or on the other side of the phone, again questioning if I wanted an arranged date with someone from my sister’s office.
No, Coraline, I do not want to date Lucy – my competitor might I add – and no, I am not impressed that she is the CEO of your organisation at the age of twenty-five. Well, I was impressed, the gumption alone to be in her shoes was admirable, but it didn’t mean I wanted to date the woman. Especially after Cora spent the thirty minutes prior telling me how Lucy was married to her job and had taken to sleeping in her office as a form of practised efficiency. I’d much rather maintain my isolated single life which consisted ofa morning run, followed by a lengthy day at work, a microwaved dinner for one and an early night.
Wash, rinse and repeat.
Lucy and I had a lot in common, I guess. But the idea of taking her on a date sounded as appealing as eating uncooked oats. What that said about me as a prospective date wasn’t something I had the time or energy to consider.
Shelby though, was on a different wavelength. Even via message, she seemed to sense when I’d had a particularly tiresome day – often randomly sending a text at times I really needed to chill the fuck out.
But this morning she’d thrown me for six. Her mother was Australian so she would always have some connection here, but she’d never once mentioned returning and hadn’t ever joined her mum on the odd occasion she flew over for a holiday. So, her sudden trip was unexpected to say the least. And the unexpected made me queasy.
Things with Shelby were easy because they were predictable. There was no possibility for treading on toes if I overstepped, or worse, didn’t pick up on a vibe she was sharing. There were never any surprises. I never second guessed, altered who I was or worried with her. She called a spade a spade and consequently, I found her easy to converse with. But now she was coming to Australia and without the buffer of a screen I would be raw and exposed.
Shelby, with her effortless affability and easy banter would no doubt find me lacklustre. I wore the same suits every day, lived by the same routine, spoke to the same handful of people and even ate the same foods, because it made things obvious and inevitable. And in person, she would be anything but predictable and that was the part which scared me the most.
It was only hours later when she confirmed she would be arriving in six days’ time – six – that it truly sunk in.
I was going to see her.
I was going to see Shelby Hudson in the flesh.
In the space of twenty minutes, she announced her flight number and arrival time. I'd also offered to pick her up from the airport and it was decided she would spend the first few nights at my house while she detailed exactly what it was she would be doing for two months here. Something she said she would prefer to talk about in person – whatever the heck that could mean.
Australia was a place she hadn’t visited since she was twelve years old. A place which would undoubtedly awaken a chasm of renewed grief when she saw my mum again. The woman who sat along side her, holding her own mother’s hand in the final days of her life. The same woman who loved her mother like only a childhood best friend can. The same woman who told both Shelby and her younger brother Blake, they always had a home here in Melbourne with us.
As strong as she was for Shelbs, Mum was grieving too and thank God Dad was there because emotions weren’t a strength of mine. Tears terrified me, especially those of a woman who’d lost her best-friend and was doing her best to hide her own heartache whenever Coraline or I were around.
Selfishly, I hoped Shelby arriving would ease some of that pain for Mum, as well as her own, as while Shelbs and I spent time over the last twelve months checking in, it was apparent losing her mum had changed her significantly. Aunt Talia’s decline in health and eventual passing had irrevocably altered her until she was left with a shadow of grief. A silent partner which simmered underneath every conversation, every action, every decision. But after she’d spoken with Mum today, both of their demeanours appeared brighter – even if I was gauging that from brief text exchanges with them both due to my heavy work schedule.
I’d only just finished a meeting about how next year was going to be massive with the new overseas office set to open when Mum sent through the details of Shelby’s arrival, as if I didn’t already have them memorised.
It was all I could think about while the managers rambled on about how the office I was supposed to be championing and leading, would have a confirmed location as soon as possible. But I was listening when my boss announced he wanted me to take time off first – the calm before the storm he said. And it felt serendipitous that I was being encouraged to use some of my nearly two years of stored leave entitlements to “refresh and recoup” as Old Ed eloquently described, just as Shelby was arriving. So, without any forethought or hesitation, I’d surprised everyone when I’d agreed without a fight and left the office for a three-month sabbatical and no direct plans.
No predictability or routine.
No structure.
My absolute worst nightmare.
Lying in bed that night, I’d ordered new bedding for the spare room, a second set of cutlery and crockery and a few other things I knew would make my living space feel less like a temporary abode and more like a home. Even if she was only staying for a couple of days.
It didn’t take long for me to end up on her social media feed though, scrolling her photos – careful not to unlike an old photo or like anything from too long ago. My actions would scream the true intentions of my digital footprint. A telltale confession that I was not only appreciating her daily updates from up to three years ago, but lurking. Lingering on the few pictures which contained her rather than a landscape or candles she was selling, always from behind and never of her entire body.
Shelby was publicly private, and it made me nervous that I hadn’t seen her in so long. Why didn’t we ever visit each other? Well, I knew why I didn’t, but what about her? Would I even recognise her on Wednesday morning at the busy terminals of Melbourne Airport? Would she recognise me? Should I send her an updated photo just to be sure?
I didn’t want to send an SOS across the ocean before she even landed but shit, I was nervous. This was supposed to be casual. Two friends seeing each other after eighteen years. Two friends who never ran out of things to talk about and had known each other since the day they were born - four months apart.
I could be casual. Aloof. Breezy.
I could easily get her from the airport and host her in my apartment for a night or two. I could ignore the fact she was charming, carefree and was arriving with only tentative plans and no further accommodation secured.
It would only be two-ish nights after all. I could mask my discomfort with the unknown and be whatever she needed for the brief time we were together. Because that’s what friends did, even when the unpredictability of it all gave me the beginnings of a headache.
