The Christmas Swap

Ash pursed her lips. “Sure, okay, but no money changes hands. We are down a dessert with Chloe gone. She usually makes a pav.”

“A pav?” Where did Aussies come up with these words?

“A pavlova. Like a meringue.” And why did they shorten everything? Does Chloe always talk in Aussie-isms? Jules asked herself. Maybe she did and Jules just didn’t notice. Ash peered up her expectantly.

“Right. Well, I’m not sure my baking skills extend to making a pavlova, but I am awesome at Christmas cookies. That’s one of the ways I earn my keep back home. Actually, my cookies are kind of legendary.” She shrugged in mock modesty.

The man behind the counter handed over a large package of prawns wrapped tightly in butcher’s paper. “You’re talking about proper American cookies, right?”

Jules laughed. “Yeah, sure, I guess they’re American.”

Ash took off her backpack and squeezed in the package of prawns, then zipped it up. “But you mean those shortbready ones with all the fancy icing and stuff? Those, right?”

“Yes, they are fancy, very fancy,” Jules replied with mock seriousness.

“Well, if you’re sure—and please be sure because I’ve always wanted proper American cookies at Christmas—then we’ll stop at Woolies on the way home for baking stuff. That can be your contribution. How’s that?”

“Sounds good to me.”

“And then, we’re going out for coffee. I am dying for a proper coffee.” Ash forged ahead to the next counter where they would collect the ham, shoving her way through the dense, but amiable crowd. Jules stayed right on her tail, not wanting to get lost. She had no idea from which direction they’d come in.

Ash continued, “I mean, there are some great places for it here. Like that one.” She pointed to a tiny hole-in-the-wall—more of a counter than a coffee shop—with a long line of people who all looked like they were Jonesing for their coffee hit. “But look at that frigging line!”

She turned to Jules, “Okay, so we get the ham, we bike over to Woolies, get the baking stuff, then drop all this at home, and grab coffee? Sound good?” Jules could see why Ash and Chloe were such good friends. They were both super organised and, just like Chloe, Ash seemed to enjoy being in charge. Jules wondered if that made them the most formidable team ever, or if sometimes it was “the clash of the titans”.

“Sounds good,” Jules replied. Ash smiled, just like Chloe did whenever her plan was accepted. Two little planners living together. No wonder the apartment was immaculate. As soon as she got up that morning, Jules had made Chloe’s bed, almost as though Chloe was hovering over her, “Tuck that corner in! No, tighter!”

Jules never made her bed back home. What was the point? She was just going to mess it up again that night. But she’d seen Chloe make her bed in a five-star hotel. The thought tugged at Jules’s heart a little. Gosh, she adored that funny little Aussie.

She hadn’t realised how far they’d progressed in the line until Ash declared that they were done. “Let’s get the flock outta here,” Ash declared, elbowing her way to the exit. Another weird Australian saying, Jules thought as she followed obediently.

The outside of the market was almost as chaotic as the inside, but the sun was shining. Jules retrieved her sunglasses from the neck of her tank top and put them on. It’s summer. It’s hot. This is heaven.

Not for the first time, she wondered at the odd luck that had made her a Colorado native. She much preferred this warmer weather and she knew the winters were mild here. Maybe I was an Australian in a previous life, she thought, unlocking Chloe’s bike from the bike rack. I wonder what it would be like to actually live here, she mused.