Up Over Down Under (23 page)

Eliza grabbed a piece of toast as she passed through the kitchen and said a quick good-bye to the Echolses, trying her best to act nonchalant. She ducked around the side of the house, picked up the backpack from where it had landed in the garden, and went to the corner to wait for Steve.

The day dragged on forever. The nice weather seemed to have drawn people down to the beach a day earlier than usual, so the lunch rush was particularly busy. She shuffled back and forth between the tables and the counter, dropping off trays of fish and clearing and wiping tables when people left.

It was astonishing to Eliza what little regard people had for their manners when they were away from home. Customers would get irate over minor mistakes that were easy to fix—a vanilla milkshake instead of a chocolate one or two sides of slaw instead of three. It was shocking.

And then there was the overwhelming amount of garbage people would leave strewn about. Since spending so many hours in the backwaters of the bay, she had a new appreciation for the staggering amount of everyday junk that wound up floating in the water. No wonder her father was so passionate about the environment.

Regardless, even if Billie's intentions were noble, Eliza couldn't help but be glad that it was Billie rather than Eliza who was going to undercut her father's most recent decision.

Environmental issues aside, though, if the work at the Fishy Wishy had taught her anything, it was to have a whole lot more appreciation for waitstaff at restaurants.

She was a little surprised by how much into a zone she could get when doing this stuff. She'd never really had a job back home. She'd babysat before, but nothing with a uniform and cash registers. It was tough going, but she just kept thinking about two days of nonstop swimming and sunning at the beach with Macca, and she was able to “go to her happy place” and just get through it.

As much as she hated smelling like fish at the end of the day, she had to admit that on a day like today, things could get a lot worse. The weather was sunny and warm, and she got to be out in the open air (even if it was clearing tables) instead of cooped up in a classroom.

Eventually, the lunch rush gave way to the lull of the late afternoon. Finally, there were only a couple of customers left sitting at the outside tables.

“Hey, Steve,” Eliza called, walking back into the kitchen area.

“Yeah?”

“Things are pretty slow, and I've got everything cleaned up and put away. Do you think I could get out a little early? I'd love to catch a few extra rays before the sun goes down.”

Steve gave everything a cursory eye.

“Tell you what, go back and refill all the napkin dispensers, and as soon as you're done with that, you can get changed and get out of here.”

“Thanks so much,” Eliza said, and went into the storage closet to grab packages of napkins.

“No worries, and Eliza?” Eliza's heart stopped for a second.

“You're doing a great job; you've really gotten the swing of it. I'm impressed, and I'll let Frank know.”

She had a pang of guilt, knowing that she was about to let them down.

“Okay…” Eliza tried to keep her voice light. “Thanks, Steve.”

After finishing with the napkins, Eliza pulled her backpack out from where she had stored it in the back of the restaurant and ducked into the bathroom to attempt a quick makeover. She jumped into her sundress, hoping that it hadn't gotten too wrinkled in her bag during her shift. She took out a brush and ran it through her hair until it was vaguely presentable and no longer pressed into the shape of an inverted fry basket. She put on a little lip gloss and a hint of shimmery eyeliner (enough to look good for the beach, but not so much that you'd look more suited for a nightclub), a hint of perfume, and checked her outfit. Finally feeling satisfied—or as satisfied as she was going to get—with things, she stepped out.

Eliza took a note she had written the night before from her bag and read it over once more.

She knew it wouldn't get her off the hook entirely, but at least she felt better than if she had just disappeared. She didn't want to wind up with her photo on the side of a milk carton. She slipped the note in the cash envelope that Steve dropped with Frank every Sunday night.

Eliza walked out front of Fishy Wishy and waited for Macca. She took a last look, patting down her dress and running a hand through her hair, then sat on a bench. She couldn't sit still, and her stomach had turned into a churning mass of butterflies. At least, she hoped they were butterflies and not the haddock sandwich she had had for lunch.

She tried to find the optimal position to be in so she would look just right when they arrived.

Sitting up, ankles crossed, looking at the ocean.
Nope…looks like I'm posing.

Standing, legs crossed, leaning on bench.

Sitting, leaning back, reading a tabloid.

Before long, two cars with surfboards strapped to the top pulled to a stop right in front of her bench. One was an old sedan and the other was Macca's dune buggy. Will, from the party at Trinity, and Annelise were in the front of the sedan, and squeezed in the back were a couple other guys and a girl. Macca, with a big grin, was driving the buggy by himself.

Without getting out, Macca called to her.

“Toss the bag in the back and hop in. We've got a ferry to catch!”

Eliza tossed her bag behind the seats in the buggy and got in and off they went.

 

 

About five minutes up the road was the Sorrento Pier and the car ferry that would take them across the head of Port Phillip Bay. They pulled into the loading lanes just as the cars started to load up.

After parking on the boat, they climbed out and headed up to the topmost deck to take in the sun and watch the sights as they crossed the bay. Everyone gathered at some seats, and Macca made the introductions.

“Will and Annelise you met.” They all smiled and nodded at one another. “And this is Johnny and Whiz.”

“Whiz?”

“Yeah,” said the lankiest of the three, an academic-looking guy with spectacles. “It's really Will, but since he's Will”—he gestured to the broad-shouldered guy—“and I'm smarter, I'm Whiz.”

“Aha. Do you guys all go to Geelong?”

“Just Johnny,” Macca said. “Whiz is at Melbourne Grammar, and Will graduated from Geelong last year and has been off jackarooing with Kat,” and he gestured to the girl Will had his arm around, “at his family's station near South Australia.”

“Jackarooing?”

“Being a farmhand,” Will said. “Helping with the sheep and cattle.”

“You're both jackaroos?”

“Technically, I'm a jillaroo. That's what they call the girls. I'm Kat,” she said, “and you are the Yank we've heard so much about?”

“That's me,” Eliza answered.

Soon the ferry shuddered as the engines revved up. The lines were cast off, and the boat pushed back from the pier heading out into the bay. Eliza, Macca, Will, Kat, Whiz, Annelise, and Johnny found spots at the railing where they could have a good view of the Mornington Peninsula.

The boat left Sorrento and soon was passing Portsea; farther out was Point Nepean, the very tip of the peninsula. There were freighter ships coming and going, and with the late-afternoon sun beginning to settle down in the sky, sailboats and cabin cruisers that had been out for the day were coming back into the expanse of Philip Bay.

The water was a luscious blue, and the late-afternoon sun made the ripples dance with light. It was so bright Eliza had to shield her eyes. Far off in the distance she could make out the tallest of the high-rises in Melbourne, and to the other side there was nothing but open sea with a sailboat heading off to points unknown.

“Look, hey, check it out!” called Kat from the other side of the deck.

They all rushed over to see several dolphins racing along the front of the boat. They playfully leaped out of the water, one following the next, then plunged back under, racing just out of the boat's reach.

As Eliza watched the dolphins and basked in the warm, afternoon sun, the guilt she had about running off from the Echolses melted away. She closed her eyes and smiled to herself when she felt Macca's hands on her hips as he leaned over her.

“Cool, aren't they?” he asked.

“Yeah, they're beautiful.”

They watched as the dolphins danced back and forth in the water.

“Hey,” Eliza said as she turned around. “Thanks so much for inviting me. I'm glad I'm getting to do all this. Your friends are really cool to be having me along.” It wasn't exactly what she meant to say, but she somehow couldn't put it all into words. She hoped Macca would understand.

Macca smiled at her. “No worries.”

Billie returned home from the zoo that evening to an unusual sight. Or rather, an unusual
sound
: the strains of pleasant humming emanating from the kitchen.

After dropping her bag and jacket in Eliza's bedroom—homesick or no, it still wasn't quite feeling like
hers
—she made her way toward the mysterious good mood. It was Mrs. Ritter, buzzing around the kitchen, occasionally lifting the lids off of pots and poking at vegetables in a bowl with a silver serving fork.

She looked up at the sound of Billie's footsteps. “Oh, hello,” she said, her mouth twitching up ever so slightly into what Billie thought might actually be a smile. She inhaled deeply. “Doesn't dinner smell good?”

Despite the pots and general low-level commotion, Billie didn't actually smell anything. Well, anything that smelled liked food, anyway. As usual, the sharp scent of cleaning products cut through the air.

“What're we having?” she asked, somewhat nervous. Mrs. Ritter's razor-thin physique was not the result of a robust appetite, after all.