Thank you so much for reading, reviewing and encouraging me to keep going. I'm so grateful for every word I've received. Thank you, Ipsita, for giving me priority when you have so much going on in your life. You being so supportive when this story was originally yours has meant everything to me. Love you, sis.
On our final day in Melbourne, we're glued to the latest WHO press conference. The international mission has concluded its visits into China, and we're hoping to hear how the outbreak started. Unfortunately, it's really just praise for the measures the Chinese have taken to avert more deaths.
It's sobering to learn they've had 2,600 die from the 77,000 cases in China, but with case numbers now declining, there's confidence the virus can be controlled. Statistics show that mild cases recover in two weeks, and those with more severe infections are ill for about six.
The surge of cases in Italy, Iran and Korea is deeply worrying, but the spread is still contained, so while these epidemics do have the potential to become a pandemic, we're apparently not there yet.
There will be no one-size-fits-all approach. Every country should make its own risk assessment, but we must all prioritize the protection of our care workers, our elderly and vulnerable, and pledge our commitment to helping the poorer countries of the world.
"What does this mean for us, Dad?" Masen asks.
"If we get cases, treat everyone as if they're contagious. Wear a mask and use hand sanitizer."
"Everyone?" he questions, frowning.
"Certainly indoors. It's the practice in hospitals, so that's what I advise."
Shaken by the conversation, I need to speak to Masen before we take Carlisle and Esme to the airport. "What's different about the eastern states? Why would we need to avoid them?"
He hesitates for a few seconds. "I guess except for the northern extremes of the country, the eastern states are where most of the bushfires happen, so maybe it's not over yet. It's more likely that eighty percent of the country lives in Sydney, Melbourne and Brisbane, and where we're going, communities are small and far from one another."
I suddenly feel cold, certain coronavirus will come to this country, and that we'll be protected in the vastness of outback Australia, but I fear what we'll be leaving behind. Esme has a serious lung condition, so she might have to stay at home again, like she did during the fires.
In just hours, the Prime Minister announces the risk of global pandemic is upon us, and Australia will elevate its response, activating the Government's emergency health response plan. It's merely in the preparation stage, and nothing will change until there is evidence of community transmission. There is no need for alarm.
"Seriously …" I get up and pace, feeling angry. "I would rather hear nothing until they have evidence. We haven't had a single case since the end of January!"
Carlisle walks out and comes back a minute later with a ziploc bag full of surgical masks, pressing them into my hand. "Never forget that we wear these to protect others, not ourselves, okay?"
Not really understanding, I nod, imagining how we'll live with a contagious virus that has already killed thousands of people.
I just hope we never need to find out.
-0-
It's emotional saying goodbye to my in-laws. Esme says she's sorry the painting wasn't finished before we left, but he'll deliver it in person when he's in Sydney next month. I'm honestly glad she will be able to appreciate it hanging on her wall, rather than it going into storage.
She asks again if I'm sure I want her to sell my wedding dress back to Carmen. I just can't see myself wearing a gown like that again, and I'd like someone else to share in the joy it gave me.
Carlisle has his arm around Masen, and while I feel like I've gotten to know him a little, I'm definitely closer to Esme, and not as the replacement mother I thought I needed, but as a woman I respect. She adores her son and is so proud of him, but she's never once made me feel like we have to share him.
I tell her I want a relationship with my children just like she has with Masen, and give her the highest compliment I can, thanking her for bringing up a good man. She laughs lightly, but hangs on when she hugs us, as if she fears leaving, and there are tears in her eyes when she asks me to look after him, saying we're always welcome to stay at Woollahra anytime.
Feeling melancholy, I come back to find a few petals from my bouquet on the table. While I've enjoyed the scent filling the house, I know its time is almost over, so before I have to witness its demise, I take it to the bin outside, accepting that nothing lasts forever.
-0-
We check out of the house early and drive south to the Mornington Peninsula. If we'd had time, I would have liked to see more of the area, because it has a laid-back, coastal vibe, different from the rest of Melbourne. Masen once dreamed of living there, but the cost of real estate and the crowds over summer turned him off. Even so, he says he still loves a beer and a feed at the Portsea Hotel.
I would come back anytime, just to indulge again at Sorrento's bakery.
A pod of dolphins surfs the bow of our ferry once we leave Sorrento. Sitting up top, I'm weary, glad we'll have a mini-moon before Adelaide, and looking forward to being the one with the surprise this time.
Rose sits down next to me, and I ask, "How're you feeling?"
"If I spew, I'm blaming this ferry ride," she states, nudging my shoulder with hers.
"That bad, huh? Who knows about the you-know-what?"
She links her arm with mine. "Just you and my parents currently. Oh and Emmett, of course."
"I'm honored, Rose."
"Yeah, well I couldn't lie to you about not drinking at your wedding."
Driving off the ferry at Queenscliff, we head to Geelong. It's a touristy town with a long pier and a waterfront lined with sculptured bollards made from timbers taken off the old pier, depicting characters from the city's past and present. They're like giant finger puppets, and we must have photos taken with them.
We leave for the beach at Torquay, the start of the Great Ocean Road, then our first actual stop is a golf buggy tour of Anglesea Golf Club, home to hundreds of kangaroos. It's the first time Mom and Dad have seen them outside of a zoo, and the mob is used to humans, moving around slowly and lounging in the sun.
The day is one of emotional ups and downs. I'm taking an incredible journey along one of the world's most scenic drives, rounding a bend and gasping at the sight of a magnificent stretch of coastline, then I'm grieving for a forest disfigured by fire. So incredibly blessed to share this experience with my parents, I'm glum because our time together is over soon.
We stop for lunch at the seaside town of Lorne. Rose insists we eat at The Bottle of Milk, a burger place that's busy enough for us to have to wait for a table, and I choose the chicken schnitzel burger called, "What Everyone Gets." I'd never really had a great chicken parm before living in South Africa, but "schnitties" are like Australia's national dish. Even though it's excellent, I cannot finish mine, but Masen has no problem helping me after demolishing his "Mad Cow" burger.
"Good stuff, Rose," he says, grinning and wiping his chin with a napkin. I don't know how he and Dad are still picking at the remaining chips.
"What's Sue doing?" I ask, seeing her waiting at the counter.
"Paying for lunch," Rose explains, and I glare at her since my parents are staying at their place tonight, and they're taking them to the airport tomorrow, but Rose's rolling eyes tell me to get over it.
Back on the road, there are signs reminding us to drive on the left in Australia. Masen says there have been fatalities when foreigners have lost concentration and drifted over to the wrong side of the road.
We reach the sign for the Twelve Apostles, but Masen suggests we continue a few minutes farther to Loch Ard Gorge. There are many flights of steps going down to the beach, and I can tell Mom is tired, but she has no intention of staying behind today. Once we're down there, we can see examples of what is happening in the surrounding cliffs: waves crashing against the rock tear away at the structure until caves start to appear, and the water repeatedly cascading down form stalactites in the limestone. The relentless pounding of the sea finally undermines the rock completely, creating a bridge that will ultimately crumble and fall, leaving a free-standing pillar or stack. It's reasonably calm today, but I can imagine it when the Southern Ocean is really battering the coast.
When we come back to the Twelve Apostles, the parking lot is almost full, and I smile at the sight of a helicopter taking off above us. A tunnel allows us to cross safely under the highway, and we follow the boardwalk down to the viewing platforms.
Coming out into the expanse is nothing short of epic.
I thought I knew this place from photos and videos, but nothing could prepare me for the magnitude of this wonder of the world. It's a dramatic and vast spectacle with millions of years of sedimentary layers slowly being eroded by a fierce ocean. The colors in the limestone look even more beautiful against the blue of the water.
"Fuck," Dad says to himself, one of the few times I've ever heard him use the F word.
"Is it worth it, babe, all the time it takes to get here?" Masen asks, wrapping me up in his arms.
"I could watch this all day." It's hypnotic, beholding the waves roll in slowly and ravage the rock.
"I don't see twelve, Masen," Dad comments. "Are the others farther along the coast?"
"There are more dotted along the coast, but this is where they mainly congregate. Currently, there are only seven standing. You can see the piles of rubble where they once stood, and you've seen how new ones are forming."
Dad nods and keeps staring. I think he's as hooked as I am, and we're all silent for a while, taking it all in.
"If you are interested, I can take you to see London Bridge," Masen offers. "I walked over that arch before it collapsed."
"How far is it?" Dad asks.
"About twenty kilometers."
Dad raises his eyebrows at Mom, who looks at me. "Thank you, Masen, but I think we're done. It's been a wonderful day, but we still have several hours before we're back in Melbourne. I'd like to say goodbye here instead of that parking lot."
I hug Sue, thanking her for everything, then turn to Rose. "I want to hear it all, okay?"
"You send updates, and I'll send updates. You take care of each other and we'll catch you in Alice Springs."
"We must do that, Rose. Let's make sure it happens."
I imagined Mom and I would break down when the time finally came, but I'm so appreciative of the two weeks we've had together. It might hit me in a day or so, but right now, I'm grateful, optimistic, and full of admiration for my parents. Maybe Mom is being brave, but she seems calm, too, resigned to the inevitable. I guess we've said everything there is to say in the last week, really.
Even so, I give into tears when I wave them goodbye, leaning against Masen's chest.
"You okay?" He tips my chin up to look at me, always so attentive. When I nod, he asks, "So, would you like to see London Bridge? Then it's less than an hour to Warrnambool."
I love that the time has finally come to reveal my surprise. "Wouldn't it be great if we were staying here for the weekend?"
"Here?" he asks, curiously.
"Yeah, somewhere close by where it's just us and kangaroos, some place quiet, peaceful, and private, where we can do whatever we want, and I can pamper you properly."
"I like the way your mind works, Mrs. Edwards, but we're expected in Adelaide."
Undaunted, I continue. "Wouldn't it be cool to come back here for dawn, and have the place to ourselves?"
"It would," he answers, pulling me against him. I think he's starting to suspect there's more to this than just me dreaming.
"We can easily make Adelaide if we leave by noon on Sunday. Even if we stop over somewhere, the meeting doesn't start until two o'clock on Monday. We're also gaining time, remember?"
"What did you have in mind?" He smiles, and I love that I've left him with nothing to argue against.
"You drive and I'll navigate."
The entrance to the property is on the Great Ocean Road, but I know we have to drive a fair way in to reach the house, and it doesn't take long to spot the kangaroos. Masen is quiet, taking it all in while I read what they sent me. We've arrived at a forty-five acre farm of native forests, poplars and pines, orchards and vegetable gardens. While we have access to the entire property, our house is completely secluded from the other accommodations.
We have bikes and kayaks if we want to explore the Lower Gellibrand River. There are waterfalls in the nearby Cape Otway National Park. With no rain predicted, we can be as energetic or lazy as we please.
Our bungalow is just as cute inside as the pictures. It's laid out as a studio, with a big rectangular bathtub out in the open. Full-height windows bring in views of the lush valley, and after the night we were married, it's going to be interesting to see how game we are to explore life without window coverings.
While I discover all the homemade goodies in the fridge and pantry, Masen finds his spot on our bed. The poor guy has been driving all day.
"You know, I'd love a place with a view of a valley, just inland from the coast. It's too cold down here in winter, but I can imagine this somewhere in New South Wales. How did you find it?"
Rummaging through my bag, I find my outfit. "There wasn't one bad review, and people were posting about multiple visits."
"So, do we have a plan for dinner tonight?"
He's obviously happy with my choice for the weekend, so it's time to deliver the next surprise. "This is catered, Masen. I've ordered sourdough pizzas and beer to be delivered at seven, unless you want to change the time. They're bringing breakfast, too, and a barbecue pack for tomorrow night."
"Good lawd, women, could you be any more amazing?"
Having changed, I check how I look in the bathroom mirror. I am clearly not Kylie Minogue, and I don't own a white jumpsuit, but I'm fairly certain I know which parts of that video press his buttons the most. Finding the track on my phone, I press play, and dance over to the bed.
I've left my shirt open and my little shorts unbuttoned, so he can see a hint of bare breast and the skin below my navel. I only have to move my hips a certain way to suggest I'm going to fuck him, and from the lusty look on his face, it probably doesn't matter what I do. His eyes follow the path of my hands on my body, and I wonder if he sees me as a different Bella when we're having sex. I completely understand that, and I think it's a good idea to explore all our forms of sexuality.
Brazenly, I slip my hand into my shorts. While we've masturbated during FaceTime calls before, the camera was never aimed down there. He crosses his arms above his head as if he's settling in for a show, and I'm ready to give him one. When I tell him to touch himself, his eyes go to the wall of glass behind me, as if he's uneasy about doing this out in the open, and I echo his words from the night at the QT. "No one can see us."
"Okay," he agrees. "But we're gonna fuck, right?"
"If you do as I say, Masen." I'm shocked to hear me use the words so boldly, but he takes my direction, yanking his t-shirt over his head and stripping down completely, lying down to take hold of his cock.
It's so erotic watching him pleasure himself, how hard he pulls, the tempo of the action, and where he focuses his attention, that I have to join in on the party, running my hands up his thighs and handling his balls. He slows down his stroking, mesmerized by my tongue circling his tip, groaning when I suck the head into my mouth.
It doesn't take long for him to shake his head and ask me to stop, however, so maybe there's no blow job in his Kylie fantasy. The song is playing on loop, and I'm here for his pleasure, so I resume my dance.
"Take your shirt off, baby," he commands, stroking himself again, and I do as I'm told. "Then crawl up here and kiss me."
As soon as our lips meet, his hands are down the back of my shorts, pulling me onto his erection. He's such an amazing kisser that I moan, and he rolls me on my back, sucking my nipples, slipping his fingers down the front of my shorts.
Aching for him when he slides the shorts down my legs, I'm so turned on that I cum while I'm grinding to the beat of the song, and again when he's fucking me into next week.
He has to wake me when the pizzas are delivered.
-0-
We're back at the Twelve Apostles before dawn, and the Milky Way is stretched out in an arc across the sky. While it slowly disappears into the blue, other colors emerge as the sun rouses them from their dark slumber. Once again, it's awe-inspiring.
A dawn like this is a reminder that I cannot honor Indigenous Australians without showing the unique beauty of their land. The two must go hand in hand if I'm to create a balanced account of where they've been and why they've chosen to stay.
Angela and Esme have really opened my eyes to the importance of balance in understanding the connection between people and land. I now realize I first witnessed it in the national park at Uluru. It was the variety of plants I initially noticed, the space each one retained. Nothing was overgrown or dominant, and I took photos at the time, thinking it didn't look real.
Since I first appreciated that rich simplicity, I've learned it requires work and care to maintain. The pristine wilderness is actually carefully constructed, and regularly updated. There's great skill in knowing how to burn and what to plant to attract food, and it's not about assigning tasks and getting a pat on the back for a job well done. The Dreaming is knowing that taking more than your share means less for others. The work you don't do will fall on someone else's shoulders. It should be common sense, but it's sad that collective responsibility has become an alien concept in our modern world. We've evolved into a bunch of takers.
However, this is going to be my story to tell, and I won't be dwelling on the negative in this documentary. Maybe there will be other stories that sing out to be told, but for now, I want to focus on the people who actually colonized this land, quietly inhabiting their country, respecting, learning, and adapting, without us ever needing to mention the way the British invaded.
A flying camera can emerge from dense smoke into blue sky and clear air. A forest can rejuvenate without leaving 300-year-old ghosts to whisper of their death.
We might relate the story of the black swan and depict a daughter as a victor rather than the victim she could so easily have become, and we don't have to say her name.
"This was a good idea," Masen states from the railing beside me.
"How would you like to see it from the air?" I ask, knowing he'd never turn that down. He doesn't answer me, as if I'm only thinking out loud. "This morning," I add.
Now he looks at me. "What are you up to this time?"
"We have a date with a helicopter at seven-thirty," I declare with a grin.
He takes both of my hands. "Get out of it. You're makin' it up."
"And when we return to the house, breakfast will be waiting. Then I thought we might take the kayaks out on the river, but I'm open if you'd prefer something else."
He looks at me with eyes full of affection. "No … you take me on the ride, Bella. I trust you."
Sensing he's not really talking about today or the rest of this weekend, hearing him say "trust" is everything. It may have taken months and a great deal of maturing on my part to earn it, but having his trust is the most important thing in the world.
xo Thanks for reading
I originally intended to end it here, but I've now decided to jump forward two years and let Masen finish the story retrospectively. When I began expanding Ipsita's story, there was no such thing as COVID-19. I only set out to record those dreadful months when everything was on fire.
The summer of 2019-2020 is now referred to as Australia's Black Summer. It was the worst bushfire season ever recorded in my state of New South Wales but, incredibly, not our nation's worst. 80 million acres were destroyed, 5,900 buildings (including nearly 3,000 homes), and 34 people were killed. That low human death toll still astounds me, and is a credit to the work of our brave fire fighters. It's heartbreaking, though, that we lost 3 billion animals, and whole species are gone forever.
And now the northern hemisphere is again in the grip of climate-changed weather: days and days of record heat, ancient trees burning, devastating flooding, people dying or losing everything. We're living it all over again.