I came thumping through the door
carrying four bags of groceries, tired
and out of sorts because traffic had
been ridiculous coming home from the
store. The phone was ringing as I turned
the key in the lock, and for some damn
reason the answering machine wasn't
picking up. "Brrrrringgggg,
brinnnggggg," it shrilled, drilling
into my ears like some mutant powertool.
I let the bags thud onto the kitchen
counter and irritably snatched the phone
off the wall, "What?!?!" I snapped,
tossing my keys onto the counter beside
the tilting bags of food.
"Jeeze, luv, hello to you too."
I took the phone away from my ear and
stared at the receiver, then, "Russell?"
"Think so," he answered, amusement in
his voice. "Is this a real person or
your fuckin' recorder again?"
I sighed. I couldn't claim to be a
Maxell tape now. "A real person - how
are you?" I climbed onto a barstool and
leaned my elbows on the counter as I
talked to him. I had wanted to avoid
him, had done so successfully for weeks
now, and now my own layers of defense
mechanisms - the answering machine,
mainly - had done me in.
"I'm lonely," he was saying. "I miss you
- think about you all the time, luv."
Another sigh. Then, "You can't really
mean that - there must be someone there
in Australia you care for." Legions, I
told myself, his women had to number in
the dozens, hundreds. Didn't they?
"I do mean it - I don't blow smoke, Lori
- I thought you knew me well enough by
now to understand that. When I say I
miss you, I do." Inhalation noises so I
knew he was smoking. He went on, "I'd
like you to come see me, luv. I'd like
to show you a bit of Australia - after
all, you showed me lots of bits of New
York."
I laughed shortly, "Russell, you knew
New York almost better than I did the
day we met - you showed me a lot of
places I'd never been, remember?" I
raked my hair out of my eyes. I'd let it
grow out a bit since he'd left. I'm not
sure why - but I sort of liked it collar
length and curly. On a humid day,
though, I looked like I was wearing a
fright wig - the perils of naturally
curly hair.
"I remember," his voice rumbled in my
ear and I felt it down to my toes, with
some stops at interesting locales in
between. God, that he could do that to
me from thousands of miles away! "You
still there, luv?" he queried.
"Yes, I'm still here," I assured him. I
wriggled on my seat. Damn it, and damn
him - I wanted him. I hadn't been the
least bit interested in anybody since
I'd been with him. It had been like I
was dead, down there, or at least gone
dormant. Now, it seemed, the volcano was
erupting again, or at least thinking
about it. The curse of a female anatomy.
"If I send you a ticket, would you come
visit me?"
"Russell, I can't just up and walk out
on my job, y'know - they need nurses all
the time." Truthfully, though, I worked
in the nursing pool now, and could
basically set my own hours and shifts.
If I wanted time off, all I had to do
was take myself out of the pool and tell
them I'd call them when I was ready to
go back to work. I thought about that
while his voice continued to cajole me.
"I can't get away right now myself," he
was saying, "I'm doing some stuff that
means I have to stay here, but if you'd
come, we could have a nice time." His
voice went lower, softer, with that
rough edge to it that I loved, "I want
to fuck you, Lori, hear you yell out
when I make you come. . .remember?"
Wriggle, wriggle. Damn him! "Y-yes," I
managed around a tongue suddenly gone
dry. I got up, edged around the counter
to get a soda from the fridge and drank
it in gulps while he pressed his
advantage, knowing he could make me come
with just his voice. He'd done it often
enough before he'd gone back to Oz - on
the phone and in the same room with me,
watching me writhe while he studied me
with those green eyes alight,
occasionally just touching me to urge me
on. I locked my thighs together and
squinched my eyes tightly. "Okay," I
panted into the phone, "Okay, how do we
do this?"
And I listened while he told me. A week
later I was on a plane, first class,
headed for Australia.
God, I am so damned weak!
I couldn't believe it - she actually
took me up on my offer! I wanted to jump
up and down like a kid on Christmas
morning. Instead, I made sure the guest
suite was ready - I was going to do this
like a gentleman, I told myself, and not
just assume she'd share my bed with me.
I didn't want to press her, I just
wanted to see her.
This self-righteous attitude might have
fooled me, but it didn't fool my mum or
anybody else in the family. They all
looked at me with knowing expressions on
their faces while I claimed innocent
intentions. "I just wanted to show her
around Australia, repay her for her
kindness showing me around New York."
My brother Terry glanced up from forking
steak into his mouth, "Bollocks," he
said around the meat and shook his head
with that amused air that always pisses
me off. When he'd swallowed, he repeated
himself, "Bollocks," adding, "you just
want to get her out of her knickers."
"Terry," Mum said in a warning voice,
Chelsea being there for a visit, sitting
with interest oozing from her adolescent
body. "There are children present."
Chelsea spoke up, "I'm not a kid,
Grandma, and I know what he means."
I snorted a laugh into my cup and
thought yet again what a smart niece I
had.
"Don't encourage her," Mum warned me
while I feigned innocence. "She gets
enough stuff from her friends at school,
she doesn't need her dad and her uncle
teaching her things she has plenty of
time yet to learn about."
"I'm sure I don't know what you're on
about, Grandma," Chelsea claimed, but
she winked at me when Mum wasn't
looking. I made a stern face at her that
just set her giggling. The chip didn't
fall too far from the block with her -
sometimes I'd swear she was my daughter
and not Terry's.
We made it through the rest of that
family dinner without further comments
on my arriving houseguest, then I went
to check on arrival times at Sydney. I
would take the chopper down, meet Lori
at the air terminal in Sydney and we'd
fly back up to Coffs in my helicopter -
ably flown by my trained chopper pilot -
I don't pretend to know much more about
flying one of those beautiful toys than
which is the ignition and which is the
earphones. I hoped since it would be
daytime, Lori would enjoy seeing a bit
of Oz from the air, but much lower down
than on a passenger jet.
I was off, headed south, half an hour
after pushing away from the dinner
table. I couldn't stop grinning, excited
as a kid - practically rubbing my hands
together with glee. The pilot was
amused, but didn't tease me too much
about it. "She must be pretty special,"
he commented when I was ready to leap
off the helo before the rotors had
stopped turning.
"She is," I assured him. He let go of my
jacket sleeve when it was safe to climb
down, and I sprinted off towards the
International Arrivals terminal to fetch
my lady. He would refuel the chopper and
have it all pristine and ready for us
when I came back, so I had no worries on
that score.
It was April and coming on winter in
Australia - I hoped Lori had remembered
about the upside-down seasons and packed
appropriately. Of course, I'd only
reminded her ten times, so she probably
had. I moved through the terminal,
largely ignored by people, probably
because I was basically unrecognizable
as anybody the slightest bit famous,
wearing jeans, tee shirt and leather
jacket with a baseball cap on. Yankees -
a souvenir of New York. My hair was its
usual between-films scraggly mass and I
had a three days' beard growth. I had a
sudden panicked moment that Lori
wouldn't know me, then our eyes met
across the Customs area where she was
just zipping her carryon bag back up,
and she smiled.
I stopped dead in my tracks and smiled
back. Everything else fell away as we
walked towards one another, like in one
of those hokey television commercials.
But this was reality, and we came
together in a tight hug that left us
both breathless, amused people parting
to flow around us as we blocked their
way. Finally I released her and managed,
"Let's go get your checked bags, honey -
my chopper is waiting to take us home."
We set off for baggage claim and fetched
her one suitcase - I had to give her
points for that - she hadn't brought the
entire contents of her closet. "This
all?"
She nodded, put her hand in mine and let
me lead her toward the exit to the
private air terminal. I stopped as we
stepped out into the afternoon and said,
"Welcome to Australia, luvvy."
She glanced around, taking in the planes
and copters by the luxury hangars, the
blue skies and then me. "It's
beautiful," she said, and her fingers
tightened on mine. "I'm glad I'm here."
I couldn't wait to see how this was
going to turn out. . .
