She’d slept. Dropped off round two in the morning near as she could figure. She groaned and swung her legs over the side of the bed. Another day. Mack stuck his brown head around the door and looked at her, silent reproach in his eyes. She glanced at the clock. Shit, half past nine already. No wonder Mack was looking at her like that.

She snagged a pair of jeans and pulled them up her long legs, walking towards the door as she fiddled with the zip.

‘C’mon then, boy,’ she said, reaching the kitchen and opening the door so the dog could head out to do his business. Mack scooted outside without a backwards glance. Michaela sighed and filled the jug to make coffee. She rubbed at her bleary eyes and tried to remember what she was supposed to be doing today. The phone caught her eye.

It sat mute on the bench while she went over the previous night’s conversation, cringing while she did. She picked up the phone and knocked herself on the head with it.

‘Fool fool fool woman,’ she said. She’d never even found out why Trisha wanted her over there. No, not wanted.

‘Needed. She said she needed me there.’

The jug boiled and switched itself off. Michaela stirred herself and put the phone back down. She didn’t think Trisha would call back, even though she’d be off work by now. No; she’d screwed it up good and proper. She tipped a couple teaspoons of sugar in a mug, added coffee and hot water. Reached into the fridge for milk and swore when there was none to reach for.

The day was not off to a good start.

She spent the day outside, under dripping kiwifruit vines, checking the irrigation hoses, and fixing where they leaked. When she’d finished she was filthy and irritable. She hit the shower, pulled on clean jeans and long sleeved black tee and grabbed her keys. She hadn’t bothered to buy herself a new car yet, so Mack stood on the back of the Ute waiting, grinning at her for the first time that day. She stopped and looked at him then shrugged. Gave him a pat.

‘What the hell, boy, you love going for rides, don’t you?’

She swung in behind the steering wheel and spun down the driveway and out along the road to the highway.

Nelson was nothing of a metropolis compared to the cities she’d visited in the States, but it had good places to eat and grab a beer. She liked the new Mexican cafe. Hot food, cold beer. She left Mack standing in the back of the truck and went in. Propped herself up on a stool at the long, polished bar and ordered.

She’d almost finished her nachos and was downing her second beer, brooding over the phone call with Trisha. A woman slid onto the stool next to her.

‘Hey Mickey, how you doing?’

Michaela looked up into the smiling face of her one and only friend from high school. She tipped her bottle in Sandy’s direction.

‘Don’t call me Mickey,’ she said. And laughed, leaning over to give the other woman a firm hug. ‘Life’s a bitch, what can I say? You’re looking good, Sandy. How have you been?’

Sandy grabbed Michaela’s arm and pushed the sleeve up to reveal the tattoos. She raised a delicate eyebrow.

‘Wow, Mickey, these are kinda over the top, don’t you think?’

Michaela shrugged and pushed her sleeve back down.

Sandy laughed. ‘You always did like making statements. You back for good then? Are you on your own? Hey I was real sorry to hear about your grandmother, she was one very cool woman.’ She turned and ordered two more beers from the bartender and waited while they were served.

‘Cheers,’ she said and smiled again. ‘So Mickey, spill your guts girl, tell me you news. Got a girlfriend?’

Michaela hesitated and Sandy pounced on her.

‘Yeah, I think so. Is that a blush I see?’

Michaela laughed and took a swig of beer. She wasn’t going to be able to drive home if she kept drinking. ‘There was someone. Over in the States.’ She shrugged. ‘It didn’t work out.’

Sandy was examining her, eyes narrowed. ‘All these years, I can still read you like a book, Mickey. That’s not the whole story, is it? C’mon, tell Aunty Sandy and I’ll buy you another drink.’

Michaela rolled her eyes. ‘Can’t drive home if I have anything more to drink.’

Sandy shrugged. ‘So, you can crash at my place tonight.’

‘I have Mack with me.’

Sandy looked confused. ‘Who’s Mack?’ she asked.

Michaela picked at the last of her nachos. ‘Gran’s old dog. I inherited him too. He’s standing outside in the truck.’

Sandy smiled. ‘Jeeze Mickey, thought for a moment your time away really had been a life changing experience.’ She laughed as Michaela shook her head.

‘What about you, Sandy,’ said Michaela. ‘You have anyone special? Where are you working now?’

They bought more food, more beer and talked and caught up until the guys in the place started giving them pointed looks. Michaela laughed.

‘I think they want to close,’ she said and they stood, paid and made their way out into a pleasantly cool night. The fresh air revived them a little and they decided to walk back to Sandy’s place. Mack was curled up asleep on a blanket in the back of the truck. He gave Michaela his reproachful look.

She gave him a pat. ‘C’mon buddy, this lady is taking us home.’

Sandy lived above her shop. Michaela wandered around, admiring the place while Sandy hunted up a bottle of wine. She appeared finally, clutching the bottle and two beautiful, hand blown glasses.

‘Thanks,’ said Michaela. ‘This place is amazing. Everywhere there’s something interesting to look at. You’ve done really well for yourself.’

Sandy laughed. ‘Yeah, who woulda thought, if they’d known us in high school. Here’s me with my own shop, and you all educated and brainy.’ She toasted with her glass. ‘Here’s to us. It really is good to see you again, Mickey.’ She placed her glass carefully on the coffee table and took Michaela’s and did the same.

‘What’re you doing Sandy?’ Michaela asked.

‘Shh,’ Sandy said, and kneeling in front of Michaela on the couch, wrapped her arms around her and kissed her. Michaela could taste the wine on her breath. ‘What’re you doing, Sandy?’ she said. ‘We agreed years ago we weren’t each other’s type.’

Sandy sat back and ran her hands up Michaela’s arms. ‘These are sexy tattoos,’ she said. ‘Come on Mickey. That was back in high school. Lot’s changed since then.’

Michaela disentangled herself from Sandy. ‘Sorry Sandy, I don’t think I can.’

Sandy stood up and grabbed her glass of wine. She looked down at Michaela still sitting on the couch. ‘That sure is a shame then Mickey. You are one very hot woman.’ She laughed. ‘You have this intense, brooding thing going on, which is an amazing turn on.’ She took a sip of her wine and looked speculatively at Michaela in a way that had her squirming on the couch.

‘You’re still hung up on this American chick aren’t you?’

Michaela put her hands over her face and groaned. ‘Fuck it, Sandy, why can’t anything in life ever be simple?’

Sandy sat down beside her and stretched out her legs. ‘She called you and said she needed you over there, didn’t she?’

Michaela took her hands away from her face. ‘Yeah, but I screwed that up. She hasn’t called back.’ She sighed.

Sandy shrugged next to her. ‘It’s simple, Mickey. Go there.’

‘What’re you talking about? I can’t just go there.’

‘Yeah, I know. You have all these responsibilities. But you also have a manager for the orchard, and I’d bet anything your gran’s old boyfriend would happily take old Mack there in.’ She set her wine down and turned to Michaela. ‘Just go, Mickey. She said she needs you. What’ve you got to lose?’

Michaela thought about it. ‘It’s not really busy on the orchard yet,’ she said. ‘Old Frank sure doesn’t mind when Mack wanders down there to visit.’ She picked up her wine glass and sipped. ‘A couple weeks away wouldn’t hurt. Would it?’

Sandy toasted her. ‘Wouldn’t hurt at all,’ she said.