The Nutcracker

Australia doesn't really have any Winter holidays. Christmas is in Summer and it's often hot, humid, and full of flies and mosquitoes. On the other hand, it's also the time of year where things slow down and it is very common for businesses to close between Christmas and New Year.

This is set in the same world as one of my Christmas stories from last year—Secret Santa—and a character or two crossover. No need to have read it, but there is a link between the two stories.

As always thanks so much to the amazing analysts who read through and offered suggestions on my draft—you all rock!"

~*~*~*~*~

If I'd allowed him to buy me a drink, I might have understood why I was sitting here listening to his drivel, but, as always, I had insisted on buying my own gin and tonic. Acting the polite person I sometimes was, I surprised myself and did not simply leave once he had opened his mouth.

"I mean, I kinda get it, but, I mean, there's just sumfin' about it, like, those fuckin' pigs just never see it comin' and then, BOOM! You get 'em right between the eyes and they're down. I got a pic, here..."

Shoot me now. I avoid guys who brag about their love of pig shooting, but his profile said nothing about his hobby. He talked about being a landscaper and I figured we'd talk about plants, but no, he mows the local cricket field as a volunteer (I'm suspecting community service order) and does odd jobs for mates as he tries to work out what to do with his life.

I shouldn't judge him. Here's me at almost twenty-three trying to work out what to do with my life. I might have graduated with first-class honours in literature, but no one is banging down my door wanting to read my stories. Instead, I'm stuck in a dead-end retail job.

"See look! Fuck she was a big one. I'm headin' up north again over Chrissy—you should come with us, I mean, we need a cook, plus, I mean, it gets lonely at night and there's four of us blokes to take care of, if ya get ma drift. You ever been spit-roasted?"

I almost spat out my drink. He's on his third rum and coke and I'm pretty sure that's just with me—something tells me he's been drinking most of the afternoon. He looked nothing like the profile photos he had shared with me. I was surprised he hadn't already sent me a dick pic.

"You seem different from your profile." I try to divert the conversation.

"Yeah, me missus helped."

"You're married?" I hope my incredulity was hidden in my sudden reply.

"Nah, got a kid together ya know. She's great when I'm desperate like, but, she's too fuckin' uptight most of the time. I prefer looser chicks if ya get ma drift."

I knew I needed to get away from this disaster of a date. We had absolutely nothing in common. When I saw Charlotte again, I was going to murder her. It was her idea for me to try the online dating thing again. I had been so determined to get good grades at uni that I had avoided contact with men. I was sure I was the only twenty-two-year-old virgin left in this city.

"Estelle? Estelle Wittington, is that you?"

Rock, meet hard place, both abutting me.

"Na mate, this is Stella and she's wiv me." My date had stood by this stage. It was almost comical seeing him try to square up against a man who was at least a head taller than him.

"Sorry, um, Bruce, this is Tobias Mortimer, he's my sister's boss. Tobias, this is, well, Bruce." I hoped I would never discover his last name.

"How's Sophia getting along? I keep meaning to check in on her and Alice. I assume Lydia's doting over both of them?" I was almost surprised Tobias could speak pleasantly towards me, but then again, he was not in the same class of douchebag as Bruce.

"Yeah, Soph's doing great. Alice is amazing. She's almost two months old now and has the most precious smile. Lydia is just besotted with both of her girls."

This was the most I'd spoken since I had met Bruce at this bar which was unusual in itself as I usually developed verbal diarrhoea when I was nervous. Perhaps my brain had realised there was nothing to be nervous about when with an idiot like Bruce. He told me he'd never been here before and complained it was a little yuppie, but I guess as long as they had rum flowing, he didn't really mind. I glanced over to see him slumped in his chair.

"Sorry, Bruce, was it? Yeah, Estelle's sister is my PA, but she and her wife have just had a baby."

"Ya mean she's a fuckin' carpet muncher? Geez! Does she let ya watch? I mean, girl on girl, that's hot as fuck!"

Tobias had a look of shock on his face. I didn't care what he thought of me. I'd met him a few times and always found him to be a grumpy stuck-up douchebag. At Sophie and Lydia's wedding, he'd cornered me and tried to talk about web design or phone apps or something that didn't interest me. When I suggested we hit the dancefloor together he looked at me as if I had two heads and told me he could not deign to embarrass himself in such a manner. He then turned to another stuck-up douchebag guest who I did not know and started to talk about horse racing.

Soph had often commented about how kind he was, but to me, he was just a jerk-face arsehole who had nothing in common with me. Sure, he was hot, but it was the kind of heat that was meant to burn, and I doubt it would ever burn pleasantly. He also had a reputation that preceded him.

Every time I read a newspaper he was in the social pages, usually with another blonde model dripping off his arm at gallery openings or nightclubs. He'd done well for himself and was always described as one of this town's richest eligible bachelors. I doubted if a woman had achieved the same success as him, she would have been described as a rich eligible spinster or bachelorette or whatever.

Reaching for my phone I opened the dating app and clicked several buttons allowing me to delete my profile. It was clear after my third disastrous date for the month, that it was never going to lead me to someone I could even contemplate having sex with.

I never bought into the whole virgin purity myths that seemed to abound and it didn't bother me that I had not yet had sex, but I also knew I was unusual. I wasn't saving myself for the right man, I just hadn't met anyone I had wanted to have sex with, so images of a Hemsworth brother (it didn't matter which one) ravishing me would have to do for the moment. My fingers had served me well up until now, and it looked like they would be serving me well for a while to come.

When I was six and Sophia was eleven, my parents had divorced. They'd always fought like wildcats and, even though I was young, I could see that the separation was a good thing. Mum was an academic who used poststructural feminism to deconstruct educational opportunities for girls in mathematics. She'd been a primary school teacher before Sophia was born but was drawn to academia.

Dad was an accountant. They were like fire and oil—attracted to each other and so volatile. I had always assumed I was never planned, or if I was, it was to try and shore up their relationship. Dad had remarried and I got the impression he and Rachel, my stepmother, were happy. They had moved up north and I had two half-brothers who I hardly ever saw. Technically, I should be visiting them this Christmas, but I was able to blame my retail job for not being able to get away.

I lived in my dad's old unit, the one he moved into when he and Mum first separated. Sophia had lived in it going through uni and Dad insisted I do the same. He refused to take rent from us. He'd always paid his child support on time and gave more than he needed to by law. It was great being able to move out of home, but at the same time, it had not been the same love nest for me that it had been for my sister.

"That's interesting, don't you think, Estelle?" I had been too absorbed in my thoughts to focus on the conversation the two men I'd been ignoring had been having.

"Um, sorry, look, just got a message and I have to go. Sorry, Bruce, I really don't think we should do this again." And I hurried out of the bar.

~*~*~*~*~

"How was your date?" I was so happy to be working with Charlotte the following morning.

"Don't ask. I've removed my profile and deleted the app."

"It can't have been worse than the last one." Charlotte chuckled. My raised eyebrows told otherwise. "He was cute in his profile pic."

"His 'missus' as he termed her, helped with his profile. I think to get rid of him."

"No way. He's married?"

"Apparently she's only the mother of his child and occasional fuck buddy. He asked me if I was into being spit-roasted and then asked Tobias if my sister and her wife let him watch because that was 'hot as fuck.'"

"Wait, what, where does Sex-on-a-Stick come into it?" I regretted getting drunk with my friend after Sophia's wedding and telling her that he was hot as hell, but we had nothing in common.

"He happened to be there and came over to say hello. Asked about baby Alice and was polite. And hey, if I did have a crush on him as you assume, I would have been mortified to be seen with someone who had a mouth like Bruce's, but it was good I could slink away from them both."

"You know, I was thinking, next year, you should get Soph to ask Toby if Mortimer Tech would donate something to the shelter you help with."

The other reason I had no time for a dating life was I spent at least half a day a week during term-time helping at a thrift shop near the uni that raised funds for a local women's shelter. I'd been dragged along in first year as part of a project for a subject I was taking and never stopped helping. I enjoyed hanging around with women of all ages sorting through donated items and getting them ready for others to grab as a bargain or, if they were good quality, sending them on to the shelter so they could be used by women in need or any children that were there with them.

Only operating in term-time because of funding restraints and the lack of volunteers in vacation periods, I often wondered how we could make the shop an all-year-round proposition. I had, from time to time, helped out on the shop floor and it was nothing like the retail work I was involved with now. It had purpose and meaning.

I continued to dust the shelving as Charlotte went to convince a customer that bedlinen was a perfect choice for a Christmas gift for that special someone. It was only mid-November and I already hated Christmas. I had not liked it before I worked retail, but I hated it even more now. We had carols piping through our sound system. It was hot outside, yet we had decorated to make everything look like a winter wonderland. It was commercial and it was fake.

Over morning tea, I looked at a text from my mother. She was inviting me to dinner. I knew it was out of duty rather than a desire on both of our parts. Ignoring her message, I went back to work. I knew I was a disappointment to her. She may have raised Soph and me to have feminist ideals and always encouraged us to study maths and science, and yet here I was studying romance in nineteenth-century literature.

Fifteen-year-old Stella had loved the tale of Jane Eyre and the dashing Rochester, but rereading it when I was no longer a teenager saw me see Rochester for what he was—a douchebag who wanted to control Jane. I had written my honours thesis on it and how, although Brontë had tried to break away from the patriarchal ideals of the time, she had still been trapped by them.

I figured my mother thought I was too. Romance had always been my guilty pleasure. I was over the tropes that had drawn me in during my teenage years. At times I wondered if I was holding off having sex yearning for a hero to come along and sweep me off my feet, but I had always been more reserved than her and my sister, and preferred fictional potential partners over real-life ones.

Sophia was the outgoing one who loved marketing and advertising. She had met Tobias Mortimer at uni and been with Mortimer Tech since she graduated, starting as a marketer, and ending up being her boss's right-hand woman, part executive assistant, part sounding board. She also managed the marketing team. I don't know how she did it, but she loved it and always raved about her job and how brilliant it was. It sounded dreadful to me.

It was one of those random acts that saw Soph organise Lydia's catering company to cater for an event and the two of them hit it off right away. Soph had had girlfriends before, but this was different and within twelve months they were married and now, twelve months later, were parents to Alice.

Tobias joked that Lydia should have carried the baby instead of taking away his PA, but Sophia had always been the maternal one. She and Lydia had the most natural relationship. It was clear they loved each other deeply. I had never believed in soulmates until I saw Soph and Lydia together. I'd never been close to being in love. I hung out with guys at high school but had never had a boyfriend—someone to hold hands with and to sneak kisses with.

"Hey Stel, Margaret's messaging me now; I'd said we'd both be there for dinner at six."

"It's only out of duty she does it. I'm not feeling it today. What about Jackson, haven't you two got something planned?"

Jackson was Charlotte's boyfriend who, along with her had also recently finished studying physiotherapy.

"Nah, he's working, plus I haven't seen Alice for weeks."

"You saw her last week when Soph popped in with her."

"OK then, I haven't held her for weeks."

Charlotte was baby crazy. She had managed to land her dream job starting the following January working with new mums, but we all knew she wanted to coo over babies.

"Mum's just disappointed in me. Perhaps I should keep studying and head straight into a PhD, but I don't want to become an academic like her."

"You could, but you could always just write a book like you've been threatening to. I'd read it."

I couldn't tell Charlotte that I had written several books already but did not feel confident enough to put them forward to anyone for publication. These were not your typical romance books—the heroines did not need saving. The men were not alpha-horn dogs beating their chests and smiting any other bloke who talked to their woman. These were men and women entering relationships as equals, bringing their own talents, fears, and experiences. I suspected they were too boring for the romance readers of today. The marketplace was filled with the tropes I pretended to avoid.

~*~*~*~*~

"Hi, Mum. Low blow convincing Charlotte to come to dinner by the way."

"Well, I wanted to see you, and Cliff and I wanted to have a special family celebration for you achieving first-class honours. I'm so proud of you, you know."

Cliff was Mum's partner of several years. The two were well suited and I was glad Mum had found someone who could put up with her idiosyncrasies.

"Thanks, Mum. Here, I brought some brownies."

"You didn't need to, Stel, but thanks."

In the lounge Charlotte was already holding Alice, bouncing her on her knee giving her mums a chance to sit together on the couch.

"Stella! So good to see you. Margie was telling me you've done well at the university."

I did have to love Cliff. He was a bus driver who had never been to university and did not understand how things worked there, but knew to be proud of Mum's, Lydia's, and my achievements.

"You look tired, Soph." I sat down as Cliff passed me a glass of white wine.

"Yeah. Toby lost his third replacement for me this week and he rang me this morning and pestered me into at least sorting out his emails."

"Just say no! Tell him you're on maternity leave for a reason. Yet another reason I don't like the guy."

"He told me he saw you." Shit. I had hoped he would not tell my sister.

"She told me she bumped into him on her date last night." Charlotte added in, still bouncing Alice on her lap.

"Date?" Mum's ears had pricked up.

"I caught up with a guy from a dating app and he was a prick. I was about to leave when Tobias came over."

"You're the only one to not call him Toby." Sophie grinned.

"He's one of the few who insists on calling me Estelle." I hit back, realising why I hated family dinners so much.

"He calls your sister Sophia too, but he does call me Lyds for some reason." Lydia had her arm around her wife.

"Anyway, enough of my sad dating life. How's work, Lyds?"

"Busy. You know how it is leading up to Christmas. This is my last Saturday off until New Year."

"Don't talk about the bloody holidays. I mean, Christmas is one day of the year, but everyone goes crazy in the months leading up to it. Retail has killed the last vestiges of holiday spirit I might ever have had."

"Nah, catering is different. You get all the seasonal food and it's always nice seeing people together enjoying themselves."

This was where Lydia and I disagreed, but I was willing to let her have her view of the festive season, even if it was different from mine.

"Speaking of Christmas," my mother interrupted, "I thought it would be nice to have a picnic this year seeing it's Alice's first celebration."

Mum had obviously forgotten she had dressed her first grandchild as a pumpkin for Halloween.

"I'm already over Christmas and it's not even December yet." Playing happy families at family dinner was so stressful for me. I hated the idea that we had to pretend to on a day that society had deemed was a day for celebrating how wonderful everything was when clearly it wasn't. Well not for me anyway.

Charlotte was no help. She had been bitten by the Christmas bug as a child and was in her element listening to the carols and working in a fake winter wonderland in the middle of summer.

Over dinner, Sophia was on her phone constantly. When it rang, she excused herself and I could hear her having heated words with the other party.

"If you hate retail so much, what are you doing about it, Stel? Just imagine you're working in that thrift shop, except you're getting paid for it," Mum asked between mouthfuls of salad.

I sighed. There was no way I could win.

"That's it. I'm taking your phone, Soph. You are on leave and I'm ready to rip him a new one." Lydia was angry.

"He must be a tyrant if he keeps chewing through assistants and making ones on leave work on the weekend," I offered.

"He's such a nice guy. He's exacting, that's all. Things need to be done a certain way. He's a geek deep down and needs someone to organise him." Sophie had always been loyal.

"Perhaps his mother could be his PA while you're on leave then?" I retorted, my views of Tobias Mortimer not improving.

"Well, I'm a mother and I can see how to solve both problems my daughters are having." Mum piped up. "Stella, you can quit the retail job you hate so much and fill in for your sister for a few months until you decide what to do with yourself. Problem solved."

"No, no, no, no fu—" I started.

"You'd stand up to him, that's for sure." Sophie did not seem as unimpressed with the idea as I did.

"I think it would be perfect." Charlotte smiled, "It's much easier to replace someone in retail. I mean, I'd hang around His Hotness if I wasn't starting at the hospital in January."

"I can guarantee the pay will be better, too." Lydia chimed in.

I turned to my sister. "I don't know the last thing about being someone's assistant, and I know nothing about marketing or whatever it is you do."

"Marketing's taken care of. He needs someone to organise his diary and sort through his emails. Anyone could do that."

"Which is why he's chewing through these anyones? He's a prick, douchebag, fuck-knuckle, whatever you want to call him. He's always grumpy and stuck-up and he and I just don't get along."

"But he's hot," Charlotte interrupted. "I mean, he's got that whole Chris Hemsworth thing happening, even if he is a bit darker and more brooding."