October 25, 2025

Wavelength

by kmuauthor

This short story was inspired by Wavelength, an original artwork by Miriam Shilling as part of the 2025 Eurobodalla Literary and Art Salon.

‘People are like water; eventually, they find their level.‘

This is my dad’s advice whenever I vent my frustration about the latest antics of Abby.

My youngest was born a day after my 40th birthday, and there is an age gap of 12 years between her and my other daughter, Chelsea.

At 16, Abby’s taste in music and clothes, her behaviour and even her language are foreign to me. She’s like a creature from another planet.

‘This McFrappe is bussin’,’ she says, slurping from the salted caramel drink as I navigate the busy drive-through exit.

While I attempt to decipher what she just said, Abby ducks down in the passenger seat as a group of three girls and two boys stroll through the car park to the Maccas entrance.

‘Abby, what on earth are you doing?’

‘That’s Rory. I don’t want him to see me,’ Abby whispers as she squeezes herself between the seat and dashboard.

‘But I thought you liked him?’

‘I do. But he’s dating Jess now, and they’re so cringe I can’t stand it.’

A tall boy with blonde surfer hair and his arm slung around the shoulders of a skinny brunette whose buttocks are hanging out of denim shorts so skimpy they should be illegal, crosses in front of us.

Frowning, I reply, ‘Maybe that’s for the best, he looks like a scoundrel to me,’ trying to reassure my daughter that the young man is not worthy of her.

‘A scoundrel? What’s that?’ she asks as she peers up from the floor to check where Rory and Jess are.

‘Scoundrel. You know, a boy who plays around. Has a lot of girlfriends,’ I explain. ‘And put your seatbelt back on,’ I say as we swing onto the main road and head to the pool for training.

‘Well, yeah. I mean, he can have anyone he wants,’ Abby states as she clambers back onto the seat and takes another giant slurp.

As I pull into the car park, Abby chugs the rest of her drink, grabs her bag from the backseat, and mumbles a hurried goodbye as she races to escape a further conversation about boys.

Two frantic hours later, after getting dinner ready and walking the dog, I return to the pool for pick up. Abby is waiting for me at the entrance and has her head down, scrolling on her phone.

Winding the window down, I call out, and Abby glances up before ambling over. Her eyes are red, and she doesn’t speak as she climbs in.

‘Did you forget your goggles today?’

Abby’s fixated on her device.

‘Abby. Can you put your phone away for one minute? I asked you a question.’

Huffing and rolling her eyes, Abby drops the phone to her lap. ‘What?’

‘You mean, pardon.’

‘Huh?’

‘I asked if you forgot your goggles, your eyes are red.’

‘Yeah. Sure.’

Glancing sideways, I see her hands reach for the phone.

‘Abby …’

‘Mum, c’mon, I’ve been doing laps for hours …’

‘And I’d like to have a conversation that lasts more than two seconds,’ I retort.

Abby turns to me, flicking wet hair to one side, ‘Fine, Mum. What do you want to talk about?’

‘How about Rory?’

‘Mum … please, no!’

‘You were embarrassed when you saw him today. Is there anything else you want to tell me?’

Abby stares out the window, muttering, ‘Nup.’

Sighing, I let it go, and by the time we get home, Abby’s phone is once more an extension of her arm. Walking to the door, I try again. ‘Tomorrow’s Saturday. I’m going for an early surf. You haven’t been on the board for a while. Come with me.’

‘Okay, but only if we go to Narooma instead.’

The next morning, it takes the promise of an egg and bacon roll and coffee to prise my daughter out of bed, but finally we are on the water—the one place where we’re on the same wavelength. Catching that first wave is still a buzz for both of us.

In between rides, the tears come. Abby shares the crippling embarrassment of Rory dumping her at school after sharing sexy images he convinced her to send to him with his mates.

I want to rip the little ‘scoundrel’ apart; instead, I reach across the water as we rise and fall with the swell and grasp Abby’s hand. ‘What Rory’s done is illegal and wrong. But we’ll get through this, love. Together. I promise.’