Anyway, the sunbaked earth made everything better.
The coast is peaceful and calming, but the quiet hum of the air in the golden, red dunes is unparalleled.
Ashy hates it here, desperate for the water again – which means we won’t stay much longer, but while we do, I will bask in the whispers of the wind as they carve ripples across the sandy floor. I will revel in the last few daysof our aimless vacation while blanketed under the star-strewn night. And I will do my best to memorialise the hues of amber, crimson and violet painted across the sky of this beautiful country we are lucky enough to call home.
Australia, you call to my heart like nothing else ever could, and the photos we’ve taken don’t come close to celebrating your true beauty.
“There,” I pointed to a sole tree up ahead and Corbin pulled over to the side of the road and parked.
Mum’s descriptions were stunning, a gravitational pull guiding me to retrace the places she saw and the things she experienced, but I always marvelled at how everything was even more breathtaking when you were there for yourself.
“Do you want me to come with you?” There was no expectation in his question, some days I wanted the comfort of being alone while I said another fond farewell to my parents, other times, like today, I didn’t want to stray too far from him, his presence the only thing keeping me upright.
I nodded, feeling emotions beyond my control. While neither of us spoke about tomorrow, we both knew it was my birthday. The same date, three years prior when Mum was re-diagnosed.
A date forever marred by the depths of her fight and the eventual decline in her health.
He reached for my hand and even in the suffocating mid-morning sun, it was soothing to feel the warmth of his support. We walked along the silent stretch of road, heading towards the only tree for miles. Early this morning, we farewelled the magic of the Australian coastline for this paradoxical backdrop. A harsh, barren sandscape teeming with a delicate profound solitude. The stillness was infinite yet despite the emptiness as far as the eye could see, the air felt full of life. While we would return to the coast this afternoon, driving this road to get there, was an amazing change of scenery.
I snapped a photo, placing the undeveloped film and camera back in my bag to retrieve later, while removing another scatter tube. The last one I would leave here after deciding I wanted to bring a small piece of them back to Canada with me. I wasn’t sure where or when it would feel right to spread, but I knew the desire to keep some was strong.
“After Dad passed, Mum was obviously sad. Blake was still so little that things didn’t change much for him, but as a fourteen-year-old, it was exponentially hard. I wanted to be strong for Mum, to keep Blake’s life as normal as possible, to go to school and do my homework but I was heartbroken and confused. And then I felt lost and I worried about losing Mum too. So much so that I would beg her to let me sleep in her bed. And she would. With Blake too,” I wiped the tears which were drying almost as quickly as they fell in the heat.
“I became fixated on the possibility of losing one of them. It’s probably why Blake finds me so suffocating these days,” I wiped another tear with a self-deprecating smile.
“One night I woke up and I swear I could see my dad standing at the end of the bed, watching over us. And I felt better. I believed that he would make sure nothing else would happen. I can’t remember a lot about him. I’ve forgotten the sound of his voice, the way he smelt and the subtleties of his face, but I’ll never forget how excited I was when I’d see him walking down the street on his way home from work. Or how frustratingly funny I found it when he would hold me down and tickle me. I hated it. Still do,” I admitted with a quick glance up to where Corbin stood next to me. “But I’d give anything to feel that frustration just one more time. To have them both here. To ask if this is truly where they want to spend eternity…”
Choking on the final word, I allowed the tears to fall freely, basking in the irrevocability of returning them to the earth.
I didn’t try to hide my sadness and even Corbin’s hand on my back was not enough to quieten the pained cry from deep within as I opened the tube. Watching the ashes settle on the land at the footof the sparse tree, I silently thanked them for being the best parents I could have ever wanted. The two people who gave my brother and I the greatest life they could. And I sent a silent prayer reminding them we were both doing well. We were happy and safe and everything we accomplished was because of what they gave us.
When the weather became unbearable and with the stifling heat pounding into our backs, we ventured back to the sanctity of the air-conditioned truck before continuing down the quiet highway with a quiet look over my shoulder at the patch of earth where my parents now belonged to the breeze. I watched the red landscape, emptying my lungs of any sorrow until Corbin reached for my hand, interlacing our fingers. The gesture was so subtle, minuscule in the grand scheme of things, but it took all of the breath from my lungs. I couldn't take my eyes away from the way his thumb gently caressed the top of my hand nor could I ignore the way it left me wondering why this felt less like an ending and more like a quiet beginning.
“Did you know it’s December sixteenth?”
“Mmmhmmm,” I answered, biting into my toast with not even a glance his way. Our room housed two single beds and a small kitchenette which served us perfectly. It meant I could pretend I slept on my right side and stare at him all night, seeing as accidental snuggling was out of the question. We hadn’t so much as kissed since our time in the ocean last week and not for lack of wanting. I really thought that when we decidedto just beit would mean some heavy petting at a minimum, possibly some Corbin in and around my mouth…or whatever.
But nope, he was a stupid, old gentleman. Well young, as I was now officially older than him.
“I have the whole dirty day planned,” he said with a hint of humour.
“Fantastic.” I answered dryly.
He stood, heading into the bathroom but not before calling, “I’m sure you won’t be interested at all, but we leave in twenty minutes for hot-stone massages.”
My resulting groan was dramatic and loud. Way to make me excited for my dumb stinking birthday. Massages were my kryptonite.
“Fineeeee,” I shot back, making it four syllables long to hide my excitement. As if a hot-stone massage wasn’t like whispering to my damn thirty-year-old heart.
He strolled into the room casually, looking effortlessly put together, while I silently pondered when a crew cut became so sexy. Leaving that conundrum for another time, I raced in and shaved my legs, deciding prickly calves weren't screaming a woman with her life in order and threw my hair into a low bun. I couldn’t wait to smell like essential oils and feel the weighted warmth of the stones against my muscles. I already knew whatever else he had planned would be perfect because it was with him and that was the best gift of all.
“Dad followed the Hearts,” I recalled, referring to the Sydney based football team currently competing on the television above the bar. “And I remember him watching them at home and I never had any idea what the heck was happening.”
Corbin laughed. “Yeah, I can appreciate that. I guess it would be confusing if you weren’t a regular spectator. I was never a Hearts’ fan, but we do their insurance through Titan so I was slowly converted,” he said with another sip from our shared cocktail.
“Really? That’s so cool,” I responded, genuinely impressed, “Do you get to actually meet the players?”
“I’ve met a few of them,” he answered as if it was no big deal.
