The Great Between

He Misses Me

Dad has the radio on as he makes breakfast. There's no football or cricket or anything, just a constant flow of news. The newsreader's voice is calm and steady, rhythmic enough that I can almost block it out. Almost.

'Health officials warn social isolation could be a part of life for Australians until late next year,' she chimes.

Late next year? I can't see Max or Leo properly for another eighteen months?

'Epidemiologist Dr Michael Clove warns that the hasty removal of protective measures such as isolation could create a new spike in infection rates. Australians have been praised in their efforts to contain the Virus thus far, but Dr Clove has stated there could be a long road ahead.'

A very long road, so long the end is just a smudge on the horizon.

'The Prime Minister issued a statement today, reinforcing his position on the Flying Princess cruise ship.'

The Prime Minister's voice comes on and Dad moves to switch it off. I gesture for him to stop and we wait, listening.

'The ship will not dock in any Australian port. That is absolutely our position. If it is granted permission to dock elsewhere, we will do all in our power to repatriate Australians onboard.'

Dad switches it off when the PM starts spruiking his newest financial plan.

'Suddenly, they can fund everything,' Dad says. 'They've stopped harping on about a surplus.'

'They've finally realised we care more about helping people than we do about things like surpluses.'

Dad smirks as he sits at the table, milk nearly sloshing over the sides of his cereal bowl.

'You're starting to sound like a little socialist, Stella,' he jokes.

'I don't think that's a bad thing.'

'Of course you don't, you're eighteen.'

'Nearly eighteen. And I don't see how that's related.'

Dad smiles like I've missed a joke and spoons cereal into his mouth. Milk drips into his beard.

'Are you working today?'

'No...' Dad gives me a funny look. 'It's Saturday.'

'Oh, right. Am I working today?'

He shrugs.

I hurry off to text Pen.

Pen: No, Zac's on today. Written anything yet?

Me: I emailed that address.

Pen: Good! That's a start!!

I'm about to reply when a text pops up from Leo. It's nine o'clock on a Saturday morning and Leo is texting me? What is this delightful madness? A little part of me hopes this means something significant. Another part of me worries I'm going to completely embarrass myself because I'm not quite awake yet.

Leo: Hey Stella.

Me: Good morning.

Leo: Are you doing okay?

Me: I'm not awake enough to know yet. You?

Leo: Yeah I'm okay. I just hadn't heard from you since Monday. You sort of disappeared.

Me (half-lying): Sorry. I've been working a lot. Forgot to talk.

I spin on my desk chair, grinning at my phone screen. My cereal's probably getting soggy, but I don't mind. I'd rather talk with Leo.