Page 81 of Rafferty's Rules
‘Oh, yeah?’
‘One I’m gonna revisit very soon with my tongue.’
Chapter 24
RAFFERTY
‘Gotta have lollies for a road trip, Lis.’ Climbing back into the car, I empty the contents of the bag onto her knee.
‘There’s enough candy here to feed a bus full of people, not just two.’
‘We’re not feedin’. We’re grazing. And I happen to have a sweet tooth.’
‘You can’t possibly eat all of this.’ She says, sorting through the hundred bucks of crap I’ve just picked up from the servo.
‘It wasn’t just the gas tank that was empty.’ As I start the ignition, I rub my flat stomach with my other hand. ‘After all those calories burned yesterday, a flat white and a bowl of seeds this morning isn’t gonna cut it.’
‘And fruit and yoghurt and you said it was nice! And you told me to choose breakfast, so you don’t then get to complain about what! Besides, the waitress said she’d swap it for you.’ This girl.
‘Probably a good business decision. I eat there most mornings I’m in Sydney.’
‘Maybe you should’ve asked her to choose for you, then,’ she responds tartly, though she moves on quickly from what seemed like a flash of jealousy. ‘Because this is not food, Rafferty. This is junk!’
‘Yeah, but tasty junk.’
‘The man who doesn’t eat chocolate has a sweet tooth,’ she scoffs, stuffing the scattered purchases back into the bag. ‘You’re missing out on all the good stuff! Red Frogs? They sound as interesting as well, eating the real thing. And Freddo Frogs? What is the obsession with frogs?’
‘Those are for you. They’re chocolate. Along with the Caramello Koalas.’
‘Killer Pythons? Do Australian’s have a fetish for eating candy in the form of animals?’
‘The way you say that is really cute.Kill-rr pie-thon.’ I mimic her accent as I pull away from the kerb.
‘I do not sound like that—you take it back!’ Her evident delight just drives me on.
‘I dode-clare,’ I intone, ‘y’all have a thing fur animals?’
‘Oh my goodness, that is the worst accent I’ve ever heard. You sound like a terrible Australian-Southern fusion... drag queen.’
‘Scarlet O’Fella,’ I offer, cracking up myself now.
‘And I haven’t said y’all once since getting off the plane!’
‘How much is that killing you?’
‘It’s a habit and habits are there to be broken,’ she answers decisively.
Just like hearts.
‘And what’s this?’ This time, she pulls something up from the floor. ‘Now this is a whole lot of drag. What in the world is a Golden Gaytime?’
‘The thing you have in your hand,’ I answer reasonably.
‘A Golden Gaytime,’ she repeats, turning the garishly retro packaging. ‘Am I going to find something awful inside here?’
‘Nope, just an ice cream. My dad used to take us all for a Gaytime every Saturday.’
‘I wouldn’t shout that about,’ she says with a tiny giggle.
