He kept his back to them as he switched on the kettle then retrieved a mug and tea bag from the canister on the shelf that had been there for years. He needed caffeinating now to cope with EJ conversations. And by the time the coffee machine had heated, he’d be ready for a flat white too.
He poured the boiling water over the tea bag then added a splash of milk. “How is she?”
Mum sighed. “Oh, Elizabeth has asked the ladies on the prayer chain to pray for her.”
Jordan winced. He bet EJ would hate that.
“She’s not herself. A lot quieter. I had tea at The Silver Teapot the other day and—get this—she was even serving!”
“Who, Elizabeth?” That was hardly newsworthy. She owned the place.
“No, silly. EJ.”
He blinked and finally faced her. “Really?”
“I know! I remember you telling me when she finished university that she swore never to work there again. So I guess some things can change.”
He sipped his tea, nodding. Lots of things had changed. He knew he had changed. And it sounded like EJ had too. But whether she’d be up for the changes that he’d like to see was another thing.
She had to be still rather raw and wounded, smarting from being blind-sided by Eric and Gwen, her supposed friends. How would EJ cope if her longest friend were to admit he didn’t want to be friends anymore, either?
“You look deep in thought, there, Son.” Dad folded up the newspaper.
“Iseverything okay?” Mum asked, concerned.
“Yep.” He yawned. “Just tired. I’ll need that coffee soon.”
“Well, that was a long flight for you. It’s good you can take today off and relax a little.”
“Actually, I was hoping you might come help with some fencing down near the dam,” Dad said.
“Oh, Graham, Jordan is tired, and—”
“I don’t mind. It’d be good to do something physical considering I’ve been on my backside most of this past week.”
“You didn’t go for a run in LA?”
His nose wrinkled. “It was a little hot, and I didn’t really feel like battling the cars and smog. It’s not as pretty as here anyway.” He gestured to the kitchen window, which gave a glorious outlook over the hills and trees down to the cluster of houses in the distance that denoted Wattle Vale.
“Well, we can help you out with that.” Dad stood. “I’ll head to the shed and get the supplies, and then you can join me when you’ve eaten.”
“Sure.”
“But you should rest,” Mum objected.
“Some physical labour will be good for me, Mum.” Because apart from ironing out the kinks in his body, physical labour would help keep his mind off the problem that was EJ.
How did one move from friends to admitting he wanted more? This felt impossibly hard, fraught with danger. Because if she said no, what then? He would have ruined their friendship forever.
As his mum made coffee, he placed four Weet-Bix in his bowl then topped them with milk, sliced banana, and a drizzle of honey. After the airplane food and hotel buffets, he was glad to get back to something simpler. Something a little more real and down to earth. He didn’t need the smorgasbord of choices. He knew what he liked and was happy to have it all the rest of his days.
And the same proved true of people. Which meant that explaining to EJ about how his feelings had grown was one hundred percent problematic.
Why hadn’t he called her?
Emma-Jane bit her lip, then realised just how selfish that question made her. OfcourseJordan would be busy. He must be exhausted, having flown across all those different time zones. She sighed and resumed cleaning up the café’s kitchen.
“You okay over there?” Dad asked.
