Meant To Be

Chapter twenty-four

The banging pressed against the house, seizing peace, thinning Ronnie's sleepy state. She yawned getting up and went to the window. The brightness was the new kind, full of temptation and hope. Zac crouched beneath it in a red shirt, thumping at Ronnie's broken fence. A pile of white wooden strips lying at his feet. Ronnie reached for her grey hoodie, lifting it off the floor. She pulled it on, slipping her arms in easily as she left the room, pushing her nose into the fabric.

Easing the front door open, Ronnie lingered on the porch watching Zac position a new board onto the fence, straightening it before he started to hammer it into place. Burying her hands into the front pocket of her hoodie, she noted his big hands, bronzed and covered with freckles.

When Zac finished, Ronnie called to him. Morning was all he said in return. He lifted another plank repeating the process. Ronnie went back inside. She filled the kettle with water putting it on to boil and lifted her cup off the drying rack, setting it on the worktop. The water began to bounce inside the kettle. Ronnie put two spoonfuls of coffee into her cup. She dropped the silverware into the sink and stared out the back window towards the grey mountains that stood above everything else. The kettle peaked, steam blowing out the spout as the Irish etiquette that Zac probably knew nothing about, hunted her.

Ronnie waited for the banging to stop and when it did, she claimed the first empty second, shouting to Zac again, asking if he liked coffee and felt like an eejit immediately after. It seemed like a stupid question. She thought of the watermelon scene in Dirty Dancing as he looked at her with that fierce face of his and narrowing eyes. But he said yeah like he wasn't aware of the expression he was wearing.

"Do you wanna come in for a cup?" asked Ronnie. The words felt clunky as they departed from her mouth. Like it was a stupid follow up.

Zac didn't want coffee, nor did he want to have coffee with Ronnie. But Casey's prospective was badgering him. Ronnie didn't know anything about him, that much was true. She didn't even know who Dena was. It dug a hole inside of Zac.

"Give me a second," he said.

Ronnie went back inside, her feet quick. She opened the upper cupboard. "Thank God," she sighed, thankful for three slices of bread and half a packet of cookies. It hadn't crossed her mind to check first.

Taking the hair tie off her wrist, Ronnie fixed her hair into a low ponytail. She toasted the bread and spread a bit of butter on top. Cutting them in two, she set the buttery toast on the plate, filling the space with some biscuits so it didn't look as bare. Zac's boots hit the wooden floor. Ronnie asked if he took milk or sugar.

"Neither." Ronnie handed him the cup of black coffee. "Thanks." He set his hat on the floor and his mug on the table. Ronnie drowned in the blackness of his Nescafe. It took her months to stop automatically putting milk in Patrick's tea when they started going out. Zac was now the only other person she knew who took it black. Milk in your tea is an English thing, Patrick had told her.

"There's some toast and biscuits there too." Ronnie pushed the plate in front of Zac. He looked too big for the wee stool he was sitting on. It was almost comical. Ronnie wondered if she looked like that too, if her arse was hanging over the edge, being hip heavy.

Sitting opposite one another, the pair sipped their coffee, shuffling their gazes clumsily as they spoke. Ronnie thanked Zac for coming to fix the fence. "It was my cattle that ploughed through it." He took another drink of coffee. Ronnie wasn't going to eat any toast so there would be more for him, but she was desperate to do something other than cradle her mug and hope that he would talk back to her. She set her cup down, lifted a piece of toast, and started pulling it apart.

"I enjoyed dinner last night. Your Ma and Jacob are really nice."

"Your Ma?"

Ronnie laughed at her mother tongue dressed up in Zac's dry American accent, but his stern manner snatched the humour from her. Like he already had too much of it. Ronnie scratched the side of the mug with her nail. Zac picked up a slice of toast. Ronnie deflated ever so slightly. "I mean Helen. As in your mammy. Mummy."

Zac waited until his mouth was empty before he spoke. "How long have you been here?"

"Almost a month. It's kind of hard to believe," said Ronnie. "Some days feel like they're never going to end and yet, the weeks just fly by."

"There isn't a whole lot to do around here."

Not knowing what to say in return, Ronnie gave the ghost of a smile. "I was thinking of visiting Franklin. Maybe do a day tour."

The knock on the driver's window was as crisp as frost on the shortest day of the year. The pain ripped from Zac's head to his toes as he tried to look sideways. The man was shrivelled. Violent red washed one side of his face. His mouth mad, impatient. Zac couldn't understand a word he was saying. He banged the window again with his fist. Pointed towards the passenger seat. Dena wasn't there.

"Zac?" Ronnie's heart was flying, her brian rattling through all the potential medical conditions. Zac's skin washing a cold grey. "Are you alright? You're not diabetic, are you?"

Zac glared at Ronnie like he'd just been dropped into the room, silence working the space between them. He blinked. "Nashville would be closer. There's a bus that goes direct from town. It takes an hour or so."

"Right. Ok. I must check that out."

Zac tipped the mug high, finishing his coffee – there was more than a mouthful or two. He felt too hot in his clothes. The space too small. Ronnie too close.

"Are you sure you're ok?" asked Ronnie.

His phone began to ring. He fumbled it out of the pocket of his jeans, getting up, and walked towards the front window. "Hello." Ronnie did her best not to listen as he said nothing of substance. Zac came back into the kitchen area and set his empty mug in the sink. "I'll be over in 10 minutes." He hung up without saying bye.

"That was Jacob. I'll get your fence finished later." Zac turned on the tap filling the sink with water. It took a few seconds before Ronnie realised what he was doing.

"Aw Zac don't worry about washing up, I can do that." He unbuttoned the cuffs of his shirt sleeves. "Honestly, it's ok." Ronnie touched his hand as she reached over him to turn off the tap. Zac jerked like someone electrocuted him. Ronnie stepped back. Her cheeks overwhelmed with colour.

"Thanks for the coffee." Zac stepped out around Ronnie. He picked his hat up off the floor and lengthened his stride to get away.

"No worries," said Ronnie, but the only person who was around to hear it was her. She turned the tap back on testing the water with her finger.