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I jut my chin out. "Yes?"
"…surprise me."
I shoot him a grin and shrug. "Why be a boring cunt? The world's got enough of those."
Col chokes on his drink and starts spluttering. I clap his back a few times until he regains his composure. He eyeballs me with those laser-beam eyes, and even if my life depended on it, I couldn't tell ya what he's thinking.
It's…oddly fascinating.
"Not sure I know fonts well enough to answer your question with the name of a specific one," he says, picking up where we left off. "But if I had to choose, I'd probably be one of the more obscure fonts. Italicized."
"Interesting. Why italicized?"
He gazes out at the harbour. "Because I've been thrown curveballs my whole life. I've been pushed, sometimes to the limit, but I've never been knocked over." He brings the glass to his lips. "Yet."
I watch him as he takes another sip. I get that we've only just met and don't know each other, but something tells me that Col doesn't share little nuggets like that easily. Or often.
"What about you, Wilby Linfox?" He swings his gaze back to me. "What font would you be?"
"Pfft. That's easy. Arial."
"Why Arial?"
"Well, it's easy to read, just like me. It's simple and classic, also like me. And it's one of the most popular fonts in the world. Not to brag, but everyone back home in Scuttlebutt loves me."
He grins. "Scuttlebutt?"
"Yeah. What? Don't tell me you've never heard of the most awesome outback town in Australia?"
"This is going to sound so bizarre, but it actually does ring a bell."
I snicker. "Yeah, right." He's pulling my leg for sure. He's got to be. Most people in Australia haven't heard of Scuttlebutt. Why would a New Yorker know it?
He finishes the rest of his drink, and I reach over to take it from him since he's got nowhere to put it down.
"Same again?" I ask.
"Sure. But let me get it this time."
"Col," I interject. "It's fine. You're a guest in my country. I can buy you drinks. You hungry by any chance?"
He grins. "Always."
I scan the menu on my phone. "They only have snack food this late. Are you happy sharing some fries?"
"Sounds great. Thanks."
"Don't mention it. Consider me your unofficial welcome to Australia committee."
I place the order on my phone. Once I'm done, I'm about to open my big mouth again, but Col looks so deep in thought, staring out at the bridge and harbour, I don't want to disturb him. The breeze is picking up a little, and there's a bit of Friday night activity out on the water. One of those obnoxiously loud party boats, with music blaring and epileptic lighting, is sailing under the Harbour Bridge.
I stay quiet, leaving Col with his thoughts and reflecting on the shithouse day from hell I've had. It's not every day you discover you have to raise four point two million dollarsotherwise you'll lose your land, your house, your animals. Everything you own, everything that you and generations of your family have worked so hard for, basically.
I'm so pissed at Katrina, my sister, I could murder her, if she hadn't already deserted us and taken off on yet another bender. My other sister Emma is desperately trying to track her down and bring her home before she gets into any serious trouble.
Kat's always had her demons, but when it came to the farm, I thought she had her head screwed on straight. I thought she'd do the right thing by us. By the kids. By Emma and me, especially after Mum passed last year.
But I thought wrong.
