Three Little Words
We met over the frozen pea section in the chiller aisle. Well, technically, I was in the frozen pea section and he was in the frozen pizza section. And no one actually introduced us: I knew who he was because he was new in town. He knew who I was because I worked in the supermarket and wore a name badge as part of my uniform. The first thing I noticed about Tom was his disconcertingly long eyelashes that made him look like he was wearing mascara. Except boys in this town don’t wear mascara, not unless they want to get bashed up outside the footy clubrooms on Friday nights.
Tom moved to town to help his uncle on the farm. He dropped out of uni to decide what he really wanted to do. I was working at the supermarket to get some money together so I could move on to somewhere more exciting. I put that idea on hold once Tom arrived. I made sure I was everywhere he was on the weekends. It wasn’t hard; there wasn’t much of a social life in Eastern Creek. Friday night everyone went to the footy club; Saturday night the bowling club, and Sunday arvo was spent at the pub. Soon we were good mates and not long after that everyone assumed we were going out.
We didn’t just hang around Eastern Creek: we’d drive to the next town to watch the boys play footy, or out to the movies with my girlfriends. Everything was perfect. Well, almost perfect. We were great mates, we could talk to each other about anything and Tom even bought me a friendship ring. I didn’t even have to hint that much! It was a silver band with tiny little rubies set into the top. I thought it was the most beautiful ring in the world.
But there was one little niggling question in the back of my mind. Tom had never actually told me he loved me.
The thoughtful things he did showed me he loved me. The dinners out at HJ’s and the hot pies at the footy. The Summer Wine he produced to celebrate special occasions. But he had never uttered those three little words.
Tom’s uncle had a station up north and he needed help for the muster. Tom asked me if I’d like to come along: I could help the cook and do other odd jobs. Try my hand as a jillaroo. I jumped at the chance. I’d never been out of Eastern Creek and I know it sounds like a Mills and Boon romance, but I’d follow Tom to the end of the earth.
It was a busy few weeks and on our last night there, Tom suggested we walk to the top of the ridge for a picnic tea. His aunty packed us some food and we took a blanket to sit on. It was a magnificent evening and by the time we reached the summit of the hill, the sun was transforming the sky into a palette of gold, orange and red. We ate and drank in silence, happy just to be together and watch nature paint the horizon.
When the sun had turned the trees into silhouettes, Tom turned my face to his, softly kissed my lips and whispered, “I love you, Narelle.” And the most beautiful thing was, I knew he meant it.
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