Jai
I observe as Meg walks away. I can't keep my eyes off of her.
"Yeah, she's different," Johnno says observing me watch her.
"She is," I agree.
I set down her bikkies on the table and I notice her up there on the balcony talking to someone but I can't see who. She looks uncomfortable and I'm regretting sending her up on her own but she steps inside. I can see Dar from the window. They're talking and appear to be fine. I focus my attention back to Johnno as he turns some snags.
"Can you grab me a stubbie over there?" he asks.
"Sure," I reply. I grab two and check the other esky to see the fizzy drinks I had sent over.
"Yeah, what's with that?" Johnno laughs as he sees me.
"Megan doesn't drink," I shrug handing him one.
"Religious," he says.
"Personal preference," I clarify.
He nods. "She is young," he points out. I nod. "She seems sweet."
"She is," I say.
"So what happened then?" he asks. I figure I can be more real with him and nobody is gonna touch the host's grill so we can have a somewhat private convo. I explain what happened, how I got baptized and went back for her.
"So you joined her church?" he clarifies.
"Something like that, yeah," I agree.
He nods.
"You seem happy, happier than I've probably ever seen you. Our mums can't stop talking—a couple of chooks spreading the goss," he tells me.
I laugh and assume he knows. "I haven't asked yet. We'll go back to America soon. I've got a plan," I explain.
His smile widens. "I didn't know that. So... seriously?" he questions.
I see the girls exit the back door and I watch her come down the stairs. "Seriously. I've got to do this right. She deserves it and I'm different than I was. I want her forever," I admit.
"I feel the same way about mine," he says.
I see a glare on Dar's finger and I look to him. "It's about time," I nudge him.
"It is. I wish I would've asked years ago. I don't know what took me so long," he admits.
I see the girls setting some crockery and tucker down on the table and I join them.
"Need some help?" I offer.
"Sure," Dar says. "It's good to see you."
She hugs me and I hug her back. I grab her hand and she laughs blissfully. "Congrats," I grin.
"Ta," she beams. "I couldn't be happier. I wasn't expecting it."
"He still has some surprises in him," I laugh. She does as well.
"Come on. We've got some more snags for the barbie and I've got to get out the meat you sent. You can help with that," she says.
"Alright," I agree.
I follow her over to the smoker they have on their veranda and she gives me a large crockery to hold. She piles up several huge briskets and eight racks of ribs.
"Every time you come, the order doubles," Dar laughs.
"That's cuz Damo opens his cake hole and the crowd doubles," I chuckle jokingly, but it's true.
She laughs, too. "I can't argue with that."
I notice Meg waiting for us. "I see now why she said we should come out and look like we need help. That would probably take the two of us several trips up the stairs," she points out.
"Told ya. We need the muscle," Dar smiles.
I carry everything up the stairs for her and wait for Dar to cut up the ribs. I grab those and a heap of snags.
"Love? Could you get the door for me?" I ask. I see now who was talking to her earlier.
Megan slides open the door for me and I kiss her right in front of them. I hear a few whistles and Meg laughs bashfully but kisses me back again. "I love you," I whisper kissing her cheek. She laughs again and says the same. I kiss her once more before I step out. She shuts the door and I'm left with them.
"Didn't realize you and the American sheila had a thing going on, mate," Bran says.
"We do. Who do you think brought her here?" I reply.
He shrugs, "There's heaps of tourists round."
"She's not a tourist. She's here to see my rellies," I tell him.
He looks surprised but nods. "Good to know."
I don't bother saying anything to the rest. They're all Damo's mates and only show up when I'm here.
I put the wrapped ribs on the table and hand the snags to Johnno, taking the finished ones from him.
"Thanks, mate. That's a serious heap you sent. You think it'll be enough?" he asks jokingly.
"If it's not, we can tell Damo's friends to leave. Did they even bring anything?" I ask.
"A few things. Store bought bikkies, no meat, I saw one bring an esky. It's over there with them," he says motioning to the crowd on the veranda.
"Your place is chokkers," I tell him. "How many did you invite?"
"You and Damo," he shrugs.
"So... Damo invited all of Sydney? Or at least the part he knows," I comment taking a drink of my stubbie.
"It would appear so. I figured there'd be a crowd but I wasn't expecting this. It's a good thing you got so much. I wouldn't have had enough of anything," he says.
"No worries, she'll be right," I reply.
Johnno finishes up the snags and the girls bring the brisket down. We all eat and I share a lounge poolside with Meg. We sit with Damo, Johnno, and Dar. The rest kind of congregate around us. I tell an abridged version of mine and Megan's story since everyone is so interested. I see Bran still checking her out right in front of me. He clearly has the hots for her. He's not my favorite of Damo's mates. He actually dated one of my exes after we split and I think he's expecting the same. Not happening. He's not her type anyway.
We chat and some of the ladies Damo's mates invited try talking to her. She has to ask them several questions. I think she doesn't understand their strine. I try to listen in and whisper in her ear when they say something she may not understand. She glances at me and looks appreciative.
We all decide to go swimming and Damo suggests skinny dipping. I shake my head at him and tell him I hope he brought his bathers or he's out of luck. He laughs and goes to change. I take Megan upstairs and stand outside of her door while she dresses. Bran actually comes up here and I tell him they're all occupied. He goes downstairs but I honestly think he was looking for her.
Meg comes out a minute later. She's wearing a different set of bathers than I've seen before but they're modest, too—just a different color. Her top is a mint green surfer swim shirt with short sleeves and she's actually got navy bikini bottoms on. I have her wait for me and we walk out together. I actually check her out because she looks better in this one. It's much more fitted and she does have some amazing curves. I sigh looking at her. She's incredibly gorgeous.
We swim a bit and I make sure to keep her close. Even though hers is the most modest of the ladies' bathers, all the blokes are checking her out. She's the exotic foreigner and they can't keep their eyes off of her.
We get out of the water and change back. We hang around the pool area and someone has the clever idea to ask Megan about American and Australian stereotypes.
"I think that kind of conversation would lead to someone getting insulted," Megan responds softly.
"Oh, come on. I'll go first," Damo insists. "Do all Americans think we ride kangaroos?"
She laughs at that long and hard, then looks to me. "To be completely honest, I've never heard that. That's just ludicrous. Who would believe that? That's like saying Americans ride deer everywhere. They're just too small."
"Alright," Bran grins. "How about shrimp on the barbie? Do Americans think we constantly have shrimp on the barbie?"
"I've heard the expression," she shrugs. "But I wouldn't think that's all you grill."
"They're not shrimp, they're prawns," Damo laughs and I think he's pissed.
"Do Americans think we all drink Fosters?" a lady asks.
"Um, I've seen commercials for that beer. Perhaps that's where the misunderstanding comes from. The advertisement actually says that brand name is Australian for beer. They must be trying to sell more of it or something, I would think," she replies.
"So, it's the slogan writer's fault?" Johnno laughs.
Megan does, too, "It must be."
"Are all Americans fat? I've heard the food portions are huge. Plus, all that take away is junk," another sheila comments.
"No," Megan laughs looking at me. "I think some people may overeat just like anywhere. I think some Americans may not get enough exercise so that probably contributes but I would think it's just individual lifestyle choices, not really everyone."
"Are all Americans up themselves?" someone asks.
Megan looks to me.
"Think highly of themselves," I tell her.
"Full of themselves?" she asks. I nod. "I would think some people are, some aren't," she shrugs. "I don't think I'm better than anyone."
"What about the separation of classes?" Bran asks.
"What do you mean?" Megan asks him confused.
"He means really poor and really rich, no in between," I say.
"No," Megan laughs. "I'd say the vast majority of Americans are middle class. We pay the most taxes. There are poorer and richer but I'd say most are in the middle. The poorer generally qualify for government aid. Some take it, some don't."
"Do Americans only know about their country?" Damo asks.
"What kind of goss have you been listening to?" I laugh.
He shrugs and looks to Megan.
"Oh, you're serious?" she asks. He nods. "Well, in... primary school, we mostly learned about American and European history because that's where most of us came from. Then later on world history. I took Spanish language, so I learned all about Spanish speaking countries and some Portuguese as well. In college, I took Asian history and African history classes, but those were mostly for art or language. So, I think I've honestly got the whole world covered except for Australia, now that I think about it."
"So, what do you know about Australia?" Dar asks.
"This is kind of embarrassing but not much, truth be told," she shrugs.
Everyone joins in now coaxing her into it and I honestly never knew she didn't know much about my homeland.
"Alright," she agrees grudgingly. "So, you have marsupials. You have lots of poisonous animals. There's the Great Barrier Reef, the opera house, you have sharks. Paul Hogan and Toto are from here and so is Jai. I honestly think that's it," she shrugs. "Oh, and Steve Irwin."
A few people laugh. "Jai, you better get on it," Damo teases.
I shrug. She'll ask me what she wants to know, although I hadn't realized she really knows nothing about my country.
"What about Acca Dacca?" Bran questions.
"Pardon?" she asks.
"She doesn't know them?" someone whispers.
"AC/DC, love," I tell her.
"They're Australian?" she questions. I laugh and nod. "I didn't know that. I guess I'm not that into secular music. I know Hillsong is from here."
"Who's that?" Bran asks.
"A Christian church from Australia. Their music is really popular in America among the Christian crowd," I explain. "Like half the songs on the radio are from them."
"Christian radio," Megan clarifies.
"How do you know this?" Bran asks me.
"Because I'm a Christian now and I started going to the church here," I shrug.
"No, way," everyone says disbelievingly.
I pass around my phone with the baptism video. Megan gets it and smiles. "Is this on their website?" she asks.
"They emailed me the video, so I'm not sure," I admit.
"I am kind of sad I missed it but I'm so happy for you," she tells me quietly handing me back my phone. I kiss her gently and everyone whistles. We both laugh as we separate. Bran pulls a face and I wrap my arms around her and hold her closely.
"Any questions for us?" one of the sheila asks.
"I'm honestly not the best with slang," she admits.
They look confused.
"Strine," I say.
"Oh," a few nod, so they start rapid fire saying things to her and explaining it, having her guess the meanings of things. Some she understands, others she's completely lost and they have to explain. Everyone is laughing. Then she asks what American phrases they all know. They're all common—probably something they've heard in films.
"Can you think of anything else?" a sheila asks.
"Shooting the breeze," Megan shrugs.
"Is that farting?" Damo asks and even I'm laughing in hysterics.
Megan looks to me. "I don't know that and I'm not going to guess because nobody could top that," I say.
"It means talking," she grins.
"Having a chat?" Bran confirms and she nods. "Damo, you were way off."
"How about John Hancock?" she questions.
Nobody knows this and she looks to me. "I'm familiar with it because I've been asked but I don't know why it is what it is," I admit.
"If you ask someone for their John Hancock, it means they'd like your signature. He was the first man to sign our Declaration of Independence. I think his signature was extremely large and legible without glasses. He wanted King George to be able to clearly read his signature," she explains.
She talks about several more and has everyone laughing and guessing—some are right, some way off and I didn't even know. I think they're all having a good time. I actually am learning a lot and enjoying myself at how entertaining she is. I think nobody asked the Are all Americans loud? bit because they see she's very soft spoken and quiet and they're learning to break down those stereotypes they've heard.