by Lindy Dale
“I thought you were joking when you tried to tell me before. You’re really that scared?” He seemed somewhat confused that someone could possess such a fear.
I nodded slowly.
“And you’ve never put your head under water since you were a kid?”
“It freaks me out. I know it’s stupid but it does.”
“What about if I come with you and we do it slowly? I can hold your hand. I won’t let any harm come to you, Mill’. You know that.”
I looked into his eyes. He really did love me. “Okay,” I replied. “I’ll try, but I don’t know how I’ll go.”
“You’ll be fine. You’ll be with me.”
The canoe took off and, petrified, I gripped the sides like there was no tomorrow. I was trying to enjoy myself, to notice the views as I looked back to the shore, but my head was beginning to swim with nerves. I could feel my hands going clammy at the thought of what was to come.
“You okay?” Sam asked. “Your face is the colour of seaweed.”
“It’s the waves, they’re making me woozy,” I said weakly.
“There aren’t any waves, Mill’, it’s dead calm.”
“Oh.”
“And you can sit back up on the seat now.”
I smiled pathetically and slunk up next to him. I hadn’t even realised I’d been cowering on the floor of the canoe.
After I while, I started to get the hang of the gentle rocking of the boat. There was something soothing about the motion and I felt a little better. We paddled along in silence and I looked down into the water. It was so clear I could see the shells on the bottom and tiny coloured fish that darted past, playing amongst the rocks.
“Sam, quick, look!” I pointed to the side of the canoe. In my excitement, I’d forgotten my nerves altogether. “It’s a dolphin.” Enthralled, I dipped a hand into the ocean and let the salty water run through my fingers. A smooth grey muzzle nosed my palm in greeting.
“Careful Mill’, you’re rocking the boat.”
“It nuzzled me,” I laughed, oblivious to the look of horror on Sam’s face.
“Millie.”
The boat was swaying and I leant over the side to see even more of the cute creatures. This was fun, more fun than I’d had in close proximity to water, ever.
“Millie.” Sam’s voice was a low warning. “Sit back, babe.”
Suddenly I was clutching at the seat. The boat was wobbling, the dolphins were gone and I was holding on for dear life as the canoe toppled over and we plunged into the ocean. I couldn’t breathe. The water was filling my lungs and I couldn’t see the surface anywhere near me. I was going to die, scratched to death in the sharp coral, my clumsy body to become food for dolphins.
“Help!” I screeched. I managed to splutter to the top of the waves, my arms flailing like a seagull, water spewing from my mouth. “Help! I’m drowning!”
A strong familiar hand gripped me by the hair. Sam. He was saving my life, pulling me from the clutches of the evil water and holding me in his arms so that I couldn’t move. His face was stony as stared down at me like I was a complete stranger. “Put your feet on the bottom, Millie,’” he said, firmly.
“I can’t.”
‘”We’re only in four feet of water.”
“Oh.”
Pulling strands of seaweed from my hair, I stood up and attempted to calm myself while Sam turned the canoe upright and dragged it the thirty metres into shore. Returning, he dove down and fished out the Esky, his hat and thongs, all completely flooded with water. Muttering angrily to himself, he trudged to the beach and I followed sheepishly behind, dragging my sodden sunhat and towel. An apology was required on my part, I knew. Either that or he was going to put me on the first plane back home back to Kuta alone.
Sam sat down on the sand and pushed his fingers through his wet hair. He was upset and understandably so; I’d ruined our entire day, not to mention another pair of his beautiful leather sandals. “Sit,” he said, indicating a spot beside him. “I think it’s time we had a little chat.”
Oh God. Not another of those little chats.
*****
Later that night, my apology accepted and Sam’s anger forgotten, we were sitting on the veranda looking out over the gardens and down towards the water that had almost spelt the end for us. Cook had made us a delectable dinner of local delicacies, which I could now eat because I no longer felt violently ill. The night sky was dark and romantic, filled with stars that looked like flames licking at the palm tree in the next-door neighbours’ garden.
“I’m sorry I ruined the picnic, Sam,” I apologised again. “I didn’t mean to.”
Sam leant over, offering me some crab from his fork. “Don’t worry about it. We can try again tomorrow. I just wish you’d told me how scared you were before. Here, try this. Wendell’s cooked it perfectly.”
I opened my mouth and let him slide the slither of white meat into it. It melted against my tongue.
“This is nice, too. Try it, ” he offered, handing me an oyster.
I took the shell and lifted it to slide the meat out.
“So,” he said, his face serious again. “Have you thought anymore about getting married and us being here and in Perth?”
I looked around me. There was no doubt Wendell as a great chef and Heidi and the rest of the staff were doing a wonderful job of getting the place up and running. The team Sam had assembled here were top notch, should I want to keep them and take this challenge on. A life with Sam. In two countries. Both our dreams fulfilled.
“Mill’?” Sam was staring at me. A strange odour was emanating from his side of the day bed.
“God, Sam! Did you fart? How many times do I have to tell you how disgusting that is? You’re unbelievable!” There I was trying to come to grips with the biggest decision of my life and Sam was stinking out the village.
Sam sniffed the air. He sniffed the seafood. “That is disgusting,” he agreed, putting down his napkin and searching the darkness for the smell. “But it wasn’t me.”
‘”Sam! Oh my God, Sam! The tree!”
“Oh for fuck’s sake. What now?!” Sam got up in exasperation. The moment was gone. A thick layer of grey smoke was wafting over the fence. The garden was on fire. Licks of orange and red were climbing through the palm trees. Sparks were drifting into the sky.
Climbing onto the veranda railing, Sam held onto the post and peered over the fence. The flames in the tree were circling higher and closer to the roof of our house. The sparks were jumping towards him. One hint of breeze and everything would be burnt to the ground.
“Be careful,” I coughed.
Sam stuck his head fully over the fence. The flames had almost reached the roof and some of the sparks had caught the bamboo in the tropical garden along the side entrance. The house was going to burn down and Sam had no idea. He was too busy peering over the fence into the neighbour’s yard. I had to do something.
Rushing round the side of the house, along the gravel path, I found the hose and unwound it, stretching its length along the path and back towards the quickly blackening tree.
Sam was yelling over the fence, “Jesus, Joe, did you have choose this exact moment to burn your rubbish? I’m trying to have a romantic dinner with my girl over here. And can put the damn palm tree out? It’s gonna burn the place down.” He was awfully calm in the face of impending doom.
It’s okay, I thought. Everything’s fine now I’ve got the hose.
I would put the fire out. I would save the house and show Sam how much I loved him. Standing straight, I turned the nozzle and aimed the hose towards the fire. The pressure was massive. The hose transformed from a limp piece of rubber to an uncontrollable water snake and Sam was its prey. Shit. I had knocked him over the fence and into the ever-growing flames. From the neighbour’s yard, I heard the muffled sound of his cursing.
Oops.
After four or five minutes, the fire started to die down, possibly because the palm tree was now a crispy stic
k and partly because I’d finally got the hose under control. Slowly, Sam climbed back over the fence. Hands on knees, he bent to catch his breath. “Millie?”
He was covered in ash from the fire. His eyebrows were singed beyond recognition and he was drenched from head to foot in black slurry. I would’ve laughed but I didn’t think he’d appreciate it. Too scared to meet his eyes, I examined the soot on his toes.
“Yes?”
Sam flicked a piece of tree from his chin and dropped to his knees in the dirt. God, was he alright? Was he having some sort of reaction to the toxic fumes from the garbage that had caught fire below the tree?
“I know I’ve already asked but I’m sick of waiting for you to make up your mind. Please say yes. Please marry me. I love you and I know I’ve cocked things up and I didn’t ask properly the first time, that was what I was going to do on the picnic today and just then at dinner but—” He took my hand in his and pulled a turquoise coloured box out of his pocket. How he managed to look so earnest without eyebrows I’ll never know. “Will you please put the damn ring on and marry me?”
I stared down at the glittery shiny thing in the box. It was Tiffany. Like oh-my-god-I’m-going-to-faint, Tiffany. It was beautiful and blingy and princess cut. And very, very big.
“But I hate putting my head underwater. And you love snorkelling.” A valid point, I thought. If I said ‘yes’ he had to be sure of what he was getting into.
“I don’t care. I’ll go slowly, teach you to love it. I’ll even give it up if that’s what you want.”
I could deal with that.
“I puked on your shoes.” I reminded him.
“I didn’t like them anyway and it’s not like I don’t have shitloads of cash to buy more.”
“But I’m clumsy. I break things whenever you’re around. We could have been killed today. Twice. And both times it was my fault.”
“I know all that.” Slowly, Sam pulled me down into the dirt with him. He slipped the ring onto my finger. His kiss burnt my lips. “Please, Millie? I love you. Everything I do is for you.”
That annoying prickle stung the back of my eyes. It travelled down into my throat, rendering me speechless. I looked at him, covered in dirt and grime and I realised it didn’t matter. Wherever we lived it, didn’t matter. I could learn to swim and maybe cook. I could put up with a bit of sport if Sam was there. “Yes. I’ll marry you.”
We got up out of the dirt and Sam went into the house to get the computer. He couldn’t wait to Skype his family and the Richards-Shaw’s to tell them the news that I’d finally agreed.
“Sam?” I asked, watching him boot up the laptop and connect to the Internet. Head in the clouds he checked his Facebook page while he waited for the Skype to load. “SAM!”
“Huh?”
“Did you have a date in mind? You know, for the wedding?”
Sam sat back in his chair. He let out a deep sigh. “What about Easter?”
“That’s only a few months away.”
“Yeah, but I reckon we could do it. All we have to do is pick a city. Yours, mine? Or both?”
“Well Perth, I suppose. Easter in Perth. Is that okay?”
“Yep. Fine.” He looked up from the computer. “But can we make it late afternoon? Then I can get in a game beforehand.”
I glared at him. “Perhaps you’d like us to have the ceremony at half time of a Western Force game? You know in the middle of the ground? I’m sure the captain would be a best man if you asked him,” I replied sarcastically.
Sam’s eyes lit up. “You’d do that? That’d be awesome.”
“SAM.” If he thought I was making my vows in the middle of a rugby pitch with twenty thousand rugby fans looking on, he could think again.
*****
Everyone was ecstatic at the news but Paige most of all. Despite the fact it was nine o’clock in the evening, Adele had woken her and the twins so they could hear the news first hand.
“Does this mean you’re going to come home now, Millie?” she asked, her face sparkling with happiness across the miles.
“Well, yes. I’ll tell you all about our plans when I get back.”
Her tiny fists pumped the air. She began to jump up and down in her chair so all I could see was her tummy bouncing on the screen. “That’s freakin’ awesome,” she cried.
“Paige!” Adele admonished her from the background. Then I saw her thin face, also glowing, enter the screen as she pulled Paige aside and forced her to sit down again. “Sorry about that. She’s been uncontrollable since you left. I’ve tried everything. I was almost going to ring that Super Nanny woman. What’s her name? Joan? Jill? You know the one. Brian knows someone who knows her manager. But if you’re on the way home, I suppose it can wait.”
Paige’s face came back into view. “Can I be a flower girl? Jennifer Brayshaw-Jones was a flower girl and she had a princess crown with real diamonds and high heeled shoes.”
I whispered to her through the screen, “I have a far more important job than flower girl for you. I thought Tori could be the flower girl, now she’s four.”
Paige’s lip went out. “Then what will I be?”
“A junior bridesmaid. You’ll have to walk down the aisle first, before anybody else.”
“Do I still get high heels and a crown?”
“Yes. And a dress that’s different to all the other bridesmaids because you’re so special.”
Paige began to jump again. “Yippee. Freakin’ awesome. Wait till I tell Jennifer. She’s going to throw a mental.”
“Paige! If you say that ‘f’’ word one more time the only thing you’ll be doing is sitting in your room for a very long time.” Adele turned back. “Seriously, Millie, the sooner you get home the better.”
I began to laugh. “I’m on the way.”
*****
A week later, Sam and I were sitting with our friends in the pub. Nobody could wait for the official engagement party and I was particularly eager to show off my rock, not to mention the photos of our lovely new house in Lombok. On the third finger of my left hand, my engagement ring lit up the room like a disco ball, the light from its sparkles the only thing outshining the overjoyed look on Sam’s face.
Melanie’s eyes had bulged at the solitaire in its simple yellow gold setting, marvelling that Sam had had the taste to pick it without any female input. “That’s not a rock. It’s a fucking boulder,” she exclaimed as she took my hand in hers and held it up to the afternoon light. Her face, framed by a stylish new hairdo that made her look even more sophisticated, tilted from side to side as she examined it for cut, clarity and colour and deemed it worthy. “How the fuck can you lift up your hand? It must weigh a tonne.”
I held my hand at arm’s length and we admired it some more.
“It is rather large isn’t it,” I said, happily. “I think a simple wedding band to go with it. Anything with stones is going to be too over the top.”
“You can save that for the eternity ring,” Sasha added.
“Give us a break, we only just got engaged.”
“Yeah, but now that’s out of the way, the pressure will be on to have babies. You’d better get used to it.”
Mel picked up the champagne bottle and topped up our glasses. “You do realise it’s a very unhealthy distribution of weight having something that size on your finger, don’t you. You’ll develop lopsided Roger Federa forearms if you wear it every day.” She sighed as if living in hope that one day she would have such a problem to worry over. “But it is quite exquisite.”
“Yes, it is.”
Mel flipped the mobile from her pocket and spoke to it. “Kirby,” she announced, her hand over the speaker as it rang. “We should break the news. Given the current situation, re Rambo-the-lame-arse-bastard, I think it’s better if we don’t do it in person.”
Kirby was currently engaged in a battle of her own and was, like, in no state to be seen in company. She was suing Rambo for ‘breach of promise’ with Johnny handling it all
. After delivery of his ‘half’ of the wine collection she’d decided to further rub salt into the wound by sending removalists to retrieve the furniture he took from her flat when he left. It took her, like, over three weeks to retrieve her IKEA sofa and dining chairs, proving to us all that, as Mel had said, Geraldton was the arse-end of the earth.
The phone answered. Melanie flicked it to speakerphone and I listened transfixed, as Mel informed Kirby of mine and Sam’s engagement.
“Hmm,” Mel said. “Yes, honey, I know that princess cut diamond was meant to be yours but it was bound to happen sooner or later. We all knew that.” She gave me a wink and a nod and said, “Hold out your hand.”
Seizing my hand, she waved it in front of the screen of the mobile at which we heard the sound of wailing through the speaker and something that sounded scarily like the noise a cat makes when strangled. Mel looked at me and pulled a strained face. “I don’t think she’s coping very well with the size of your rock, Millie.”
Then she went back to her conversation. “Okay, honey. We’ll see you in a while.” And with that she hung up. Stuffing the phone back into her hip pocket, Mel raised her eyebrows knowingly. “I guess you could say that didn’t go down well.”
“I hope she’ll be better about it in time for the wedding,” I said. “I’m going to need all the help I can get keeping those rugby boys in line at the reception.”
Mel grinned. “I wouldn’t miss it and Kirbs will definitely be in. You know she never misses a chance to frock up or play fucking party games.”
Sasha was happy too. “I can’t wait. And if you need help with planning, please ask. Have you got a colour in mind for the dresses? And what about shoes? I know this darling little man who makes custom ones—so cheap—we had him when I was in Sophie’s wedding party.”
“I’d love a bit of help. Alex is going to be bridesmaid but sometimes she goes overboard and I don’t want overboard.”
“Anything you want Millie. You just say the word. I love weddings and this will give me a new focus.”
“Oh fuck,” Melanie groaned. “Here we go again.”