Can I have some Brown Sugar for my Damper? Chapter 3.

Chapter 3

You’d think that I’d never been in an Airport before but I’m here. I’m actually here and I can’t help but look around…smell the air, it smells completely different here. I mean there’s the city smells, diesel and gas, cars, pavement and all the other stuff but the sea so close, and different grasses and bushes and trees. This is a country where broad leafed plants actually grow out in nature and not in an atrium somewhere.

I get my luggage and get stopped at customs and there’s of course a thing about my gender on my ID but it’s not as bad as I though it might get and I’m still listed as male on my drivers license and passport even though my photo’s don’t match anything remotely being a guy.

All it takes is a few calls to the law offices handling my brothers estate and the hospital to check things out and they’re actually pretty friendly. I get my luggage and get a cab. The cabby’s a nice enough guy but wow I’m going to have to get a handle on how they speak around here.

“Where to hey?”

“Howell and associates please.” I look at the address on the letter they sent me and he nods and starts driving.

“So yer an American then?”

“God no, I’m Canadian.”

“Same thing isn’t it?”

“No where close actually, we’re still part of the Commonwealth.”

“On vacation then yea?” I’m noticing they clip off some of the vowel sounds here, Yeah to me sounds like yeh to me. Still better than the elongated vowels they use in New England like Paaaaaark and Caaaaaar instead of Park and Car.

“Oh…sorry I was thinking.”

“On vacation then yea?”

“No, I’m moving here. Starting over I guess.”

“Well you could have picked a nicer place really miss, Brisbane’s a nice city all things considered. Been in a lot worse myself.”

“It’s different that’s for sure. My brother loved it here. That’s part of the reason why I’m here.”

“How’s that then, you’ll be staying with him I suppose?”

“Sort of he died awhile back and I was left his place and stuff.”

“Oh sorry to hear that, what happened if I can ask?”

“He fell asleep behind the wheel driving I think he hit a tree. Thank god he never hit anyone else, he’d have hated that.”

“He sounds like he’d be a good fella.”

“He was, even now it feels like Matt’s looking after me.”

We get to the law offices and he helps me with my bags and I pay him thirty A$ (Aussie dollars.) having gotten some of my money exchanged while at the airport. Told him to keep the change it was a pretty steep cab fare but this isn’t Montreal this is a bigger city and much more spread out in comparison.

I only have my carry on and a pull bag with me plus my purse everything else was sent here to a shipping company.

I head inside and make my way to the receptionist this lovely little asian girl.

“May I help you Ma’am.” She asks and it’s so strange to hear the local English or whatever they call it coming out of someone I think should have an oriental accent of some kind. It one of my things, I have a hard time seeing some nationalities speaking French too. I’m not like offended it’s just something I’m never expecting.

“Morgan Spencer, I’m expected but I don’t have an appointment.”

She does some typing and looks at me, looks me over and types some more. She smiles at me after a few moments. “Mr. Howell will se you as soon as he is clear from some current business, may I get you a refreshment? Coffee, a biscuit?”

“No thanks I’m fine for now.” Biscuit? Does she mean a biscuit or like a cookie?

I sit and wait awhile before this older fellow comes out talking with another fellow and then he looks me over. Well both of them do and their eyes hang onto my chest. I give them a shy look but don’t overly encourage either although the older one has an odd look on his face.

“Hello there you must be Ms. Spencer, I’m Augustine Howell but you can call me Auggie. Won’t you come this way to my office and let get you sorted out luv.”

Luv? Oddly I don’t mind that it fits him and down here too. Or is it just here now that I’m here. Auggie seems like a nice guy. Heading to sixty more than likely, portly with a big old square head on him and big arms and hands to go along with the beer belly. Just by the size of him I’d have to say he did a lot of rough work to put himself through law school.

Lots of nice books and odds and ends in his office and lots of pictures too he’s got a lot of official things in frames on his walls too. Old school office too, lot’s of leather and lots of hardwood furnishings.

“Please have a seat.”

I take a chair and slip into it. “I’ll need to see your papers of course Ms. Spencer.”

I take them out from my travel bag and we go over them together. Since he’s been handling the estate I’ve had him working on my work visa and to find out the things required for me to become an Australian citizen.

“Now as to your status and your gender.”

“What about it?”

“Are you going to pursue SRS in the near future?”

“I wasn’t sure on that yet…it’s a big decision and I thought I’d just table it until how things turned out and got clear in my head.”

“Clear?”

“I was in a long term relationship with another woman that turned sour, but recently I had an encounter that made me question my sexual orientation.”

“Oh, I don’t think the details are need right now.”

“Oh, good because honestly I am just looking forward to finding out who I am and getting my life on track before I can see myself in any kind of relationship.”

“Smart and sensible, are you sure you’re related to Mathew then?”

I laugh. “Mattie was the rogue child in my family, always looking for something new and exciting to do or learn. Actually your letter was a double shock to me because I’d have never thought Matt would be a home owner.”

“Well, there was a rumor he won the place in a wager.” Auggie smiles and laughs. “It is Brisvegas after all.”

“I’ve read up on it a little.”

“Now don’t you believe half of what you read, Brissie’s the best city to live in in all of Australia.”

“But you’re just a bit biased about that.”

“Oh just a little.” He winks at me. “Now your brother had left behind some funds and such but seeing the house had seen some damage from that damned flood I thought it best to hire a workman to fit the place up.”

“That’s okay, I said that you should use any discretion towards the property and the estate that way. Was there a lot of damage?”

“Basement was flooded and there was water damage on the first floor and some on the second where the storm put a tree through a bit of your roof.”

“Ouch, expensive?”

“Oh not bad, I hired my sisters, sister in laws boy and he’s been a pretty good worker.”

“So when can I see it?”

“We’re just about done here so, I’ll drive you over if ya like?”

“I’d appreciate that quite a bit thank you. Oh and Auggie?”

“Yes luv.” I can’t help it that just makes me smile.

“Find out what I’ll need to get my license to drive over here and make the arrangements please.”

“My pleasure, a bit different than Montreal I take it then?”

“It’s like a whole new universe here, just what I needed honestly.”

He guides me out and he puts my bags into this minivan. I give him the eyebrow. “No luxury sedan?”

“No, too much a tax on the luxury cars really and no use having one with five grandkids and all. “

I laugh again. It feels good y’know. “I can see that one can of pop and a cone of chocolate ice cream and all that extra cost just jumped up into a big cleaning bill.”

“Exactly.”

He’s still a gentleman and handles my bags and opens the door for me. It’s the little things that are really nice to feel. I’m smiling as we take a bit of confusing drive to where my house is. Where Mathews house is.

I’m in some place called Chapel Hill, in Bynoe Close and it’s not really a two story place but more like one of those split level bungalow types. The yard’s a mess and there’s piles of cut up tree and stuff here and lumber and building things under tarps over there and a generator chained up to this metal post in the front of my carport. I was expecting a garage really because no one has carports anymore back home.

The roof is on thankfully and it looks all new. I see a lot of garbage in one of those rental dumpsters mostly from inside the house. Drywall and the like. Auggie looks around. “Seems like Rudy’s out likely on a supply run. Will you be alright here? Or would you like me to run you to a motel or a hotel?”

“No, I’ll be fine here.”

He hands me the keys to the house and his card. “My house number is on here too and the wife’s phone too if yea have any troubles.”

“Thank you Auggie, you’ve been more than a lifesaver, you’ve been a saint.” I tippy toe and kiss his cheek and he blushes like a tomato.

“Gwan, wit yea….” he smiles though and his eyes shine so sweetly, there’s this light there that honestly…yeah, his wife feel in love with those eyes. I’m smiling too as I wave at him leaving and a bit scared and nervous I put the key in the door and head inside.

Oh…

It’s trashed, well it’s gutted, and there’s this scent to the place? Eucalyptus? Tea tree oil?

Most of the water damaged stuff’s gone and there looks like new electrical is being put in and there’s boxes of stuff all in the upstairs likewise gutted except for the master bedroom and the bathroom in there. It looks though like the carpets been tore out and that someone put in a click together hardwood floor recently.

I put my things in there and wait for this Rudy to show up which he never does and that led me to have a fast nervous shower and to find some of Matt’s clothes to wear to bed. I end up with a pair of ratty old sweat pants that I really had to tie to fit and one of his t-shirts. Either he grew a hell of a lot or I’m smaller than I thought I was. I had no trouble getting to sleep actually with everything that had gone one with me lately.

I’m woken up by the smell of coffee before the sunlight filters into my brain.

I carefully make my way downstairs and follow my nose out back.

Okay…I have a big yard, well huge really compared to not having one before. There’s more stuff tarped and I have a deck? It’s really a platform of bricks about four layers high with a four foot brick wall around it and a built in fire pit it seems and there a a radio playing some music and food on the pit cooking.

Bacon cover in pepper cut like right off the rasher? Is that right? Well it’s cooking and sizzling away and the coffee smell’s coming from one of those stovetop espresso pots and there’s a dutch oven there too.

And this guy.

Ow my bunny. (Yes really that’s what I’m calling my insert guy spot.)

He actually makes me ache.

No one in my life’s made me ache before.

He’s six four, and built, arms as big as my thighs and an ass…muscular even his back, with a plain grey t-shirt on faded jeans that are just…and shoulder length wavy blonde hair under this straw cowboy hat that’s got the sides curled just right.

“Uhm…Morning?” I say.

He turns around and the front is every bit as good as the back. Blue eyes kissed with grey and clean shaven, tanned, nice nose just right and a string jaw but not like the whole thug look no…just right really. Then he smiles at me.

“Morning, I was hoping not to wake you up. Y’must be Ms. Spencer.” his eyes flickers over me, twice over my chest. Oh dammit, my nipples are poking nearly through my t-shirt. Why didn’t I wear a bra?

“Uhm…Morgan’s fine…you must be Rudy?”

“That’s me, you fancy some breakfast?”

“Uhm sure. I’d love some of that coffee.” I try to finger comb my hair and arm cover my boobs at the same time. He smiles again. God damned he’s got a sexy smile.

He pours me some coffee and gets a plate, apparently my kitchen’s been relocated out here. Then he cuts me this thing…kind of like a short biscuit like you’d make for strawberry shortcake. It smells good. “Uhm is there any brown sugar?”

He gives me an odd look and finds some. “Will demarara do?”

“Yes thank you.” I put some butter on my thingy and then the brown sugar and he’s watching me head tilted like a confused puppy.

“You…uhm don’t put brown sugar on a damper.”

I take a bite of mine. “Oh…why it’s good.”

“You put golden syrup on it.” He holds up a bottle. I lean over looking at it.

“Looks like corn syrup to me.”

“It’s not, here.” he cuts through his damper? Cutting it in half and he really liberally butters it and he pours the syrup over both sides. It looks drenched. He cuts me a piece and a bit of his bacon on the same fork. Then feeds…..oh my….feeds it to me his palm under it to catch any drippings.

It’s flaky, butterery but there’s this taste of the syrup like corn syrup have a fair haired lovechild with molasses and this was somewhere in between the two and then I’m hit with the bacon’s salty, smoky peppery loveliness and those eyes of his. Between Rudy to dream and die for looks and him feeding me and the foodgasm I think this is the best mornings of my life in a long long time.

God I think I'm going to love Brisbane.