Chapter Seventeen
DAN
‘They really get you these days,’ Ruby groans on our hike up Mount Cordeoux when I tell her about it. We decided to wake up early this morning for our drive out to the Scenic Rim, which resulted in a balmy sunrise followed by countryside views as the day began.
‘Yeah, there’s always something,’ I huff, sweat pooling on my forehead as we ascend further up the mountain, along a narrow dirt track canopied in lush bush. Bright green ferns bask i n the sunlight, and mighty trees tower over us, birds singing from their branches.
‘Last year I got hit with that fine twice in the space of a month,’ Ruby says. ‘It was the worst. Was either lose my license for three months or good behaviour for twelve months. I’m still on the good behaviour agreement.’
My mouth falls open. ‘Wow, that is not well .’
‘Unlucky, right?’ Ruby rolls her eyes. ‘A real shit way to learn.’
‘Yeah,’ I exhale heavily, from both disappointment and the rigorous activity. ‘Good thing I have this little side hustle now, so that should help.’
‘Oh yeah, you’re seeing her tomorrow, right?’
‘Yeah…Jean.’ I smile at the mention of her name.
‘I think it’s pretty cool you’re doing something like that,’ Ruby says. ‘Writing someone’s life story, it must be super interesting. Something you won’t forget.’
I nod my head, looking around at the vibrant rainforest plants and their giant leaves. We both continue walking through the forest in silence, not speaking for a long moment, before Ruby squeals out, ‘Wallaby!’ and we both look over at the marsupial hopping between the trees.
*
‘It’s not just our bodies that shrink when we get old,’ Jean says while we chat over coffee and cake the next morning. ‘Our circles do, too. So do our dreams, our hobbies.’ She flicks her hand forward. ‘But you don’t have to worry about any of that yet. Not for a long time.’
A mouthful of coffee warms me on its wa y down. ‘I guess, yeah. But it’s interesting…to know the perspective of people who’ve lived long lives already. I mean, longer than the life I’ve lived. Which already feels like a long time, but at the same time, not a long time, if that makes sense?’
A soft laugh escapes Jean’s mouth. ‘Makes perfect sense, dear. And I hate to break it to you, but time just goes faster the older you get.’
‘I feel that,’ I say, biting into a piece of cake.
‘How is it?’
‘Mmm. Yep.’ I throw my thumb up, nodding in a pleased sort of way.
The apple and cinnamon caramel cakes are from a French patisserie in New Farm that Jean visited earlier this morning. I’ve already had two, the sweet tooth within me unrelentingly released. Nothing new for Jean, however, who tells me she lives for her sweets.
A brief silence ripples between us, and I’m the one to break the wave. ‘So, should we get back into the story?’
She takes a moment to respond, just looks at the photo of her and Ron, then back to me. ‘You know when I told you Ron and I parted ways after the war because we lived in different countries?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Well, we spent months not speaking, and I got on with my life, even though I’d been thinking about him almost every day.
Everything would remind me of him. And just when I thought it ought to be time that I move on from…
whatever this was, I received a letter from him.
Turns out he’d been thinkin’ about me too. ’
Jean goes on to tell me how Ron had spoken to a friend who’ d been at war. A friend who knew Jean and had asked to pass on the letter to her.
‘I was tickled pink when I got that letter,’ she says, beaming, shaking her head.
Because Jean now knew the overwhelming feelings she’d had for months were reciprocated. And it all made sense. But it was met with its own set of complications.
‘And what was that?’ I ask.
Jean stifles a smirk as she says, ‘Well, you see, he was with another woman.’