Free Dessi's Romance by Goldie Alexander

Wasn’t
most of Oz once split into Aborigines, Protestants and Catholics?’
    I nod. He
scowls at a car trying to overtake, picks up speed, and asks, ‘Isn’t your
father a teacher?’
    ‘Ex. Right
now he’s into renovating. He says he doesn’t miss teaching. Hey,’ I pretend to
growl. ‘Stop changing the subject. Tell me more about yourself.’
    He turns
and smiles. ‘What do you want to know?’
    ‘How about
your folks? How do they feel about us Aussies?’
    ‘They just
want you to accept us for who we are. Only…’ he frowns, ‘they really insist
that we marry in and bring the next generation up as Lebanese Aussies.’
    ‘Do you
agree with that?’
    Instead of
answering, he laughs. His laugh is so deep and sexy, my heart turns over. I do
my best to stay half-sane by changing the subject. ‘Get to any garage sales
this morning?’
    ‘Sure did…’
He stops. Just ahead is a T-junction. On one side of the road is a small white
sedan, wheels in the air like an upturned beetle. On the opposite side, still
breathing steam, stands a larger sedan, its bonnet squashed as if by a giant
thumb. As they slowly skirt the wreckage, an ambulance swishes past flashing
blue and red lights.
    Head
swimming, I close my eyes. Abdul swerves towards the verge and pulls up. He
orders, ‘Put your head on your knees.’
    I do. What
if I’m too scared to get into a car again? Determined to hide my panic… am I
now phobic about cars? I murmur, ‘Ah…Sorry about that.’
    ‘My fault.
Should never have talked you into this.’
    I say
through dry lips. ‘Can’t stay home forever.’
    ‘No, you
can’t. Not that I think this’ll happen again.’
    ‘Hmmm...?’
I manage as that sick feeling starts to subside.
    ‘You won’t
stay scared.’ His voice is firm. ‘You got into this car, didn’t you?’
    I give
another nod.
    ‘Like
climbing back on the horse. You saw another accident. You survived. Now you’ll
have a life.’
    I smile and
move closer. Thank heavens I’m with Abdul. Hannah and Graham would’ve been
over solicitous. So would Emma. Anyone else might have told me to stop being an
idiot. Thank god I’m with Abdul. As the road dips up and down, I consider the
thousands of times I will have to climb into a car. Abdul says, ‘Sometimes when
an awful thing happens, it’s best to talk about it.’
    ‘What’s
there to talk about?’ I don’t hide my anger. ‘Those first two days, I hardly
remember a thing. The cops had to tell me what happened. Jon’s a lousy driver
and he shot through a stop sign.’
    ‘Is he
okay?’
    ‘Course
he’s fine. Two weeks later he was walking around like nothing happened.’
    ‘Arsehole!’
    ‘You better
believe it. Last year two of his close mates got killed. You’d think he’d learn
something from that, wouldn’t you?’
    Stopped by
the next set of traffic lights, he says, ‘How long were you in hospital?’
    ‘Almost a
week. They had to pin my ankle in four places.’
    ‘Get lots
of visitors?’
    ‘Mum and
Dad were with me most of the time. Kaz, Sacha and Jodie turned up just about
every day. Emma almost slept there. When the pain was worst she knew she was always there, she
knew to help me get through it. ’ This time I won’t let him ignore this . ‘Right now, like being here with you
when she’s done so much for me... it makes me feel... well, totally disloyal.’
    He stares
ahead. ‘You heard her ask me to contact you. I kept trying to tell her I just
wanted us to be friends. She kept pretending not to hear. That’s why I didn’t
drive her to the airport.’ His voice rises, ‘You do believe me, don’t you?
    I shrug.
That’s okay for Abdul. But when Emma finds out, she’ll want to boil me in oil.
    Traffic-lights
change to green. The car picks up speed. Abdul says casually, ‘How about
tomorrow. You got anything special on?’
    ‘Not
really, why not give me a call?’ I hear myself say, though my hands won’t stop
trembling.

16. EMMA, Surfers
     
    My