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Ari: I have one too from face painting at Christmas markets last week, and a pair of red undies I think you’ll find intriguing
After thirty minutesof exchanging messages and videos, I had to call and hear her voice. Hearing her breathy moan sent me over the edge, and I came, calling her name into my pillow.
We lay there, listening to each other breathe and to the sounds of the night: cicadas and a random bird out my window, and I could hear the ocean breaking on the shore in the background.
Ari broke the silence first. “I’ll never look at a Santa hat the same way after those videos.”
I loved how I could tell she was smiling from the tone of her voice.
I should clean up, but I just wanted to talk a little longer. “Really love the shell. I listened to the ocean this morning before anyone was up and thought of you.”
Ari was silent for a long moment. “I’m so glad.”
“Merry Christmas, Ari.”
“It was very merry indeed.”
It was now after ten, and I was exhausted. To all the tired mothers of Australia hosting Christmas on hot days with no air-conditioning and making a hot meal for their families, I salute you. You are all the MVP.
“Your camera angles were inspired tonight. I’m going to save tonight’s efforts for future reference.”
“Mmmmm and ditto re you.”
I groaned, sticky from my release and the summer heat. “Gonna have to say goodnight and go have a quick shower.”
Ari made a muffled noise and said something.Holy shit.Did she just say?—
“What was that?” I sat up, fully alert. “Couldn’t quite catch that.”
“Mmmmm,” she purred into the phone. “I said ‘love your work’.”
I let out a long breath, flopped back down on the bed and stared at the ceiling fan turning slowly. It really had sounded like she’d said … but no. “Glad you approved.”
“I’m going to sleep well tonight, thinking of you.” She moaned again. “Night, Jet. And merry Christmas.”
“Night, Ari.”
11
Ari
True confessions: What is your most embarrassing dating disaster?
Ientered the pub in Broome, freshly showered after three days away to the Dampier Peninsular on a 4WD tour. When I’d left, Ash and Cody were caught in a social media scandal involving Cody’s old flame. Being without mobile reception in remote Australia had been so hard. Feeling so damn helpless that I couldn’t do anything.
I ripped down a brochure from a noticeboard in the pub for surfing lessons on Cable Beach as several messages from Ash downloaded. She was now home, and had been back for days, but was startled from my messages to hear Ballydoon mentioned on the TV behind the bar.
“The small town of Ballydoon has become the epicentre for managing the bushfire response for the communities of the Greater Stanmore District, led by the acting rural fire brigade chief Ryan Turner.” The camera went back to a journalist ina pristine white jacket. “An evacuation centre has been set up in the Ballydoon School of Arts hall for communities south of Ballydoon cut off from their homes as bushfires continue to keep the highway closed.”
My heart pounded.
“An arsonist is believed to be behind the latest fires threatening homes. Police are continuing to investigate reports …”
But they’d put out the fires just before Christmas. And it was all happening again, and worse, in the new year.
A new message from Ash pinged on my phone.
Ash: you probably know by now, but yeah, there’s more fires. They reckon someone around here is lighting them.
