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“Why? What is going on?”
“It’s a T Party!”
“What?”
“T is for Tom. Mum’s idea for your birthday.”
My best friend Pete materialised in front of me. “Tom, happy birthday and please, for all that is good and holy in this world, introduce me to your toga friends.”
The three women from my residential college at uni skittered past, giggling as they took selfies in their costumes.
“Can do, my friend. But later. I have to find Mum.”
I scanned the crowd. A guy I recognised from my footy days had dressed in a suit with a bad wig. “Is he Trump?”
“Think so.” Stacey shrugged.
Uncle Bruce had brought his trumpet, Aunty Carol’s dress was covered in one hundred teabags, and that’s when Pete’s costume hit me in the face. I batted something black and furry away and realised there were more of the black furry things sprouting from Pete’s back.
“Tarantula,” Pete said, his eyes never leaving the uni girls. “They are so hot.”
“Girlfriend, I need to tell you something, somewhere dark and private,” Harry shouted into Stacey’s ear.
“Christ on a jet-ski, before you two start mauling each other’s faces, or worse, where’s Mum?”
Stacey giggled as Harry whispered something else in her ear, and she cleared her throat. “By the drinks station, I think.”
I left from Stacey, Harry and Pete and found Mum carrying several drinks to a table by the eskies.
“Let me take that, Mum.”
She handed over a bulk pack of cola and sighed.
“I’m so sorry about the surprise party. I know you don’t like parties. It’s just that Ainslee said she was keen to help and invite your university friends.”
This night was just one derailed thought after another. “You spoke to Ainslee to organise this?”
“Yes, she called about two weeks ago, and we decided to throw a surprise party. She is lovely—”
“Mum, please.” I held up a hand for attention. Ainslee’s weird party organisation activity had to wait. “Is Rosie okay? Do you know what’s going on?”
“I have my suspicions. She was here a week ago, and we had a long chat. We’ve had some chats lately.”
Rosie was here a week ago?
“She pops by once a week and we talk over tea. I invited her to the party, but she said there was a work do on. And yes, something has happened, but she’ll be okay.”
Mum patted me on the shoulder and headed to the house. “Go enjoy your party. You deserve a fun birthday. I’ve got more sausage rolls in the oven to bring out.”
Mum smiled and then turned towards the homestead again. It took every bit of self-control not to follow her.
So Mum was having regular chats with Rosie? And how did she know Rosie would be okay?
Several friends came over and someone shoved a beer in my hand and I let them lead me inside the shearing shed where many were dancing to something by Taylor Swift, keeping me busy from looking up at the homestead and wondering why Rosie was there.
* * *
Rosie
