I think Jake was out of line,” he added. “So what if you haven’t earned your stripes in the trenches? Welcome to the real world, pal. People get lucky breaks all the time for a bunch of different reasons. And even if he disagrees with Leonard’s decision, being an asshole to you is not the way to deal with it.”
“Hear, hear,” she said under her breath.
He smiled at her. “So, we cool? You want to show me what you’ve got so far?”
“Thank you.” She was more grateful for his offer—and support—than she cared to admit.
He pulled up a chair beside her. She shifted the computer screen so he could read her article more easily and sat in tense, twitchy silence while he did so. She’d spent a lot of time working on it—all of last night and most of this morning. She knew it wasn’t great, but she hoped it was passable.
“Hey, this is pretty good,” he said.
She tried not to show how much his opinion meant to her. She’d already been nervous enough before The Snake had aired his feelings. Now she knew all eyes would be on her maiden effort.
“You can be honest. I’d rather know what’s wrong so I can fix it than have you worry about my feelings,” she said.
“Relax. Ask anyone, I’m a hard bastard. Open beer bottles with my teeth and everything,” Macca said. “If this was utter crap, I’d tell you. I think we can work on a few things, make some of the language less formal and stiff, but otherwise there’s not much that needs doing.”
Poppy sank back in her seat and let her breath out slowly.
“And if you’re free for lunch, I’ll give you the lowdown on the office politics,” Macca said.
She smiled. Maybe there was an upside to being savaged by an arrogant, know-it-all smart-ass after all—she’d just made her first new friend at the Herald.
THAT NIGHT POPPY HAD her second Factual Writing for the Media class at night school. She’d enrolled when Leonard had offered her the job. So far, she’d learned enough to know she had a lot to learn. But that was why she was there, after all.
There was a message from Uncle Charlie when she finally got home. She phoned him on his cell, knowing he’d be up till all hours since he was a notorious insomniac.
“Hey there, Poppy darlin’,” he said when he picked up the phone. “I’ve been waiting for you to call and fill me in on your first day at work.”
“Sorry. To be honest, it was a little sucky, and day two was both worse and better. I was kind of holding off on calling until I had something nice to report.”
She filled him in on Jake and their argument and the way Macca had come to her aid.
“Bet this Jake idiot didn’t know who he was taking on when he took on you,” Uncle Charlie said.
She laughed ruefully. “I don’t know. I don’t think he was exactly cowed by my eloquence. It makes swimming look pretty tame, doesn’t it, even with all the egos and rivalries?” she said a little wistfully.
“Missing it, Poppy girl?”
She swung her feet up onto the arm of her couch.
“I miss knowing what I’m good at,” she said quietly, thinking over her day at work and how lost she’d felt in class tonight.
“You’re good at lots of things.”
“Oh, I know—eating, sleeping…”
“You forgot showering and breathing.”
They both laughed.
“Just remember you’re a champion.” He was suddenly very serious. “The best of the best. Don’t let some jumped-up pen pusher bring you down. You can do anything you put your mind to.”
Uncle Charlie was her biggest fan, her greatest supporter, the only member of her family who’d watched every one of her races, cheered her wins and commiserated her losses.
“You still haven’t told me what you want for your birthday,” she said.
He turned seventy in a few weeks’ time. She already had his present, but asking him what he wanted had become a bit of a ritual for the two of them.
“A pocketful of stardust,” he said. “And one of them fancy new left-handed hammers.”
She smiled. He had a different answer every time, the old bugger.
“Careful what you wish for.”
“Just seeing you will make my day.”
She couldn’t wait to see his face when she gave him her present. She’d had her first gold medal mounted in a frame alongside a photograph of the two of them at the pool when she was six years old. It was her favorite shot of the two of them. He was in the water beside her, his face attentive and gentle as he guided her arms. She was looking up at him, laughing, trusting him to show her how to get it right.
He always had, too. He’d never let her down, not once.
“Love you, Uncle Charlie,” she said.
“Poppy girl, don’t go getting all sentimental on me. Nothing more pitiful than an old man sooking into the phone,” he said gruffly.
They talked a little longer before she ended the call. She lay on the couch for a few minutes afterward, reviewing the day again.
She was proud of herself for standing her ground against Jake Stevens, but she wished she hadn’t had to. The only place she’d ever been aggressive was in the pool. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had a stand-up argument with someone.
Just goes to show, you’ve led a sheltered life.
She stood and walked to her bedroom. She was pulling her shirt off when she caught sight of a familiar orange book cover on the bookcase beside her bed. The name Jake Stevens spanned the spine in thick black print.
“Uh-uh, not in my bedroom, buddy,” she said. She picked up The Coolabah Tree with her thumb and forefinger and marched to the kitchen. She dumped the book in the trash can and brushed her hands together theatrically.
“Ha!”
She’d barely gone three paces before her conscience made her swing around. Before she’d met Jake, The Coolabah Tree had been one of her favorite books. His being a jerk didn’t change any of that.
She fished out the book and walked into her living room. She looked around. Where to put it so it wouldn’t bug the hell out of her?
She laughed loudly as an idea hit her. She crossed to the bathroom and put the book amongst the spare toilet-paper rolls she stored in a basket in the corner near her loo.
She was still smiling when she climbed into bed.
“ANYONE WANT A COFFEE?” POPPY ASKED.
Jake
