Chapter 8: When Words Are Not Enough
1.
Steph beat me back to Cider Hill, partly due to us being separated in the traffic whilst driving through Melbourne, but also because her car was a lot quicker. Her FX handled the pace a lot easier than my Beetle, plus it was also a lot more comfortable when tackling the roads around town. My small car felt every single bump and pothole, each thud sending jolts up my spine. I also had one minor errand to run and promised to see her later that day, although visiting one’s Mum probably shouldn’t ever be referred to as ‘running an errand’.
It was a little before 1 when I finally rolled down back through town, the streets empty except for a few cars parked around the half a dozen hotels that dotted the road. It didn’t matter which town or city you visited on a weekend; the busiest establishments would always be the nearest watering hole.
I turned the beetle down a street just before the hotel I currently called home, stopping out the front of Tami’s small unit. When I knocked on her door, she opened it so fast and had her arms around my neck before I had a chance to speak, her lips on mine in an instant. I reached into my pocket and brought out a small gift, wrapped in yellow and gold paper. When the kiss subsided, I held it out to the side, waving it a little from side to side until she saw it. Her eyes gleamed with excitement when she realised what it was.
“You remembered?” she said, taking the gift as I held it out to her.
“Happy birthday, beautiful lady,” I said and gave her another kiss, breathing in the sweet scent of her perfume. She thanked me then held my hand and led me inside, kicking the door closed with a heel. Her living room was bright today, the curtains tied back with pieces of red ribbon, sunlight streaming in with fierce rays. She sat on the couch and pulled me down beside her, then looked at the gift excitedly.
“Well? Go on, open it,” I said, waving a hand at the present. She tore the package open, revealing a small, square jewellery gift box. She opened the lid and exhaled loudly when she saw the drop-pearl earrings that were dangling from the inner board.
“Oh my God, Jim. They’re beautiful,” she said, almost whispering, one hand held over her mouth.
“They were my mum’s. When I told her that I was seeing you, she insisted I give them to you on your birthday.”
“Wow. They’re stunning.” She put the earrings in then stood and ran to the bathroom to admire them.
“When did you see your Mum?” she called down the hall.
“Oh, about 3 hours ago,” I said and grinned when I heard her laugh. When she came back, she flashed a wide Cheshire grin at me, twirling a little, as she paraded the jewellery to me. She was about to sit in my lap but a knock on the door stopped her. I looked at my watch and saw it was 1pm; right on cue. I stood and grabbed Tami by the wrist. She resisted at first, then understood and allowed me to guide her to the dining table. I sat her down, motioned for her to stay, then went to answer the door.
2.
Steph had not only arranged for a 3-course meal to be served at Tami’s home, but she had organised two of the waitresses to dress in complete formal attire and serve each course as if we were sitting in the middle of a lavish restaurant. The curtains were drawn and a large white candle placed between us, its flame creating dancing shadows on the walls in her tiny room.
The entre we were served consisted of pan-fried scallops, served on small dollops of cauliflower mash. I remembered Tami’s love for seafood and had spoken to the head chef in the hotel kitchen the day before. He showed me a list of things he had on hand and was relieved to see a generous choice of seafood.
Tami clapped her hands together as the mains were brought in. Whole fried snapper on rice, the smell of garlic and lemon filling her tiny abode. She ate with gusto, conversation ceasing as she wolfed her fish down. It was such an enjoyable sight to see.
But, as it had always in the past, it was dessert that finally made her gush with glee. The waitresses brought in an entire pavlova, made especially for her, the fruits adorning the marshmallow and cream looking juicy and sweet. Strawberries, raspberries and blueberries were piled on top, their juices creating intricate patterns of red and black trails like roads on a map. Tami and I ate almost half the entire creation by ourselves, then rubbed our bellies which felt close to bursting.
Once the dishes were removed and we were once again alone, Tami took my hand and led me back into the living room, sitting beside me on the couch. She held my hand as she looked into my eyes, her face as radiant as ever. I was awestruck at her beauty, had been since I first saw her after that fateful night. I didn’t know whether our feelings were purely because we had shared such a traumatic episode, and to be totally honest, I didn’t care.
“Jim?” she whispered
