At the bottom of the suitcase, I see a small black case with an old video camera inside. It’s labelled, ‘For Sunshine’, in her handwriting.
‘There’s a message for you, your mum wanted me to wait until you’re settled before I gave it to you. I hope the time is right now. The batteries are charged if you want to watch it,’ Paula says. ‘I haven’t seen it’.
I freeze. It’s all a bit too much to take in.
‘Later,’ I say, and Paula and David nod.
‘Try it on,’ Paula picks up the dress and I run to the bathroom rip off my clothes. Next thing, I’m standing in front of the hall room mirror, swirling around gleefully like a three-year-old in a fairy dress. I imagine Oliver next to me and feel my cheeks flush.
‘You’re a bit taller than her.’ Paula says. ‘But don’t worry, I’ll hem it for you.’ She pulls the bottom up so it sits above the knee, rather than mid-calf. I tell her I’m not going to the gala, but she dismisses it with a wave of her hand. ‘Let me pin it, just in case’.
‘And to continue our walk down memory lane …’ David interrupts the fitting, holding the shoebox of photographs I had seen under their bed.
‘Dave!’ Paula says, ‘Isn’t it too much too soon?’ They exchange really meaningful glances. I’m scared again.
‘I’ll put the kettle on and get the biscuits going,’ Paula says as she puts the final pin in the hem of the dress. I join David on the couch as Bella curls up on my feet again. He opens the box.
‘The three musketeers.’ He shows me a picture of Paula, Mum and Melody at the cafeteria. They do bunny ears on each other’s heads.
‘I didn’t know Paula and Melody used to be friends,’ I say. ‘They hate each other! And anyway, Paula’s a few years older.’
‘Well, they had a big falling out a while back. And it didn’t help when it came to the will, of course.’
‘What do you mean?’ I ask.
‘Oh,’ David looks towards the kitchen. ‘Paula hasn’t talked to you about this yet? Hold on …’
David goes to the kitchen and whispers to Paula. I can’t hear. A minute later he’s back.
‘Please tell me, please?’ I say.
‘When your mum got sick two years ago,’ David says, ‘she started preparing her will. She believed she’d beat the damn cancer, we all did, but just in case …’ he touches my hand. ‘Bloody hell, I miss her. She assigned Melody to be your guardian. She thought it would be an easier transition, Melody lived with you already and …’
‘Putting the biscuits into the oven,’ Paula shouts from the kitchen, ‘nearly there.’
‘No rush,’ David answers.
‘You could have stayed in the same home, neighbourhood, same school. Been less of a shock for you. Point is, your mum and Paula argued endlessly about it.’ He sighs.
‘What?’ I can’t believe what I’m hearing. ‘Paula fought with Mum to have custody of me?’
‘Yes, full custody. Your mum thought we’d share – you’d stay with Melody during the school year and with us on holidays.’
I try to imagine this; would it have been a better idea?
‘In the end, Paula brought a lawyer in, just to explain to your mum the ins and outs of what guardianship meant. Once your mum understood that it’s a legal relationship and not just a case of you living with Melody and life going on, she realised she’d made a mistake. She loved Melody and was always defending her, but she knew, deep down, that she wasn’t up for such a big job.’
‘Why?’ I ask. ‘Am I such a huge task?’
‘Melody’s sweet and lovely; everyone loves her, don’t get me wrong,’ Dave says, ‘but with the revolving door of boyfriends, protests and police records, she is notoriously unreliable.’
Yes, I remember snippets of stories Melody shared with Mum over bottles of wine and stinky joints, while I was trying to sleep. Boyfriends, dramas and more boyfriend dramas. She had a knack for choosing real losers. Living with Melody would have been crazy. And staying at home, without Mum there, would have been more horrible than moving. And what about Melody being a no-show all the times she’s promised to visit? She used to do that all the time with my school concerts too. Flaking at the last minute.
‘Why didn’t anyone ask me?’ I say. ‘Couldn’t I have had a say?’
‘You have a point,’ Dave nods. ‘I suppose nobody wanted to make you more worried that your mum wouldn’t make it. Even talking about the possibility was excruciating for us. Paula loves you fiercely, we both do … you know that?’
I nod, trying to soak it all in.
‘That’s what they were fighting about the last two years?’ I ask.
‘Well, that and a few other things,’ David nods.
‘I assumed …’ I say, but can’t continue. It’s too embarrassing to say I thought Paula hadn’t wanted me. Shit. I had gotten everything wrong. Stupid, stupid.
‘Is that why Melody won’t visit me?’ I say, ‘Because she’s angry at Paula for not letting me live with her?’
‘No,’ David says. ‘She never knew about the plan.’
My face feels hot and I excuse myself to go to the bathroom to splash water on my face. But first, a detour to the kitchen to give Paula a quick hug.
‘Oh, sweetie,’ she hugs me back tight. ‘Did David start to tell you about the will? Are you okay? I’m coming to sit with you now to explain everything.’
Paula wants me, she always wanted me. I’m holding back my tears.
‘I’m glad I’m here,’ I say and run off to the bathroom
I stare at myself in the mirror. But there’s a missing piece.
Something’s still weird. What were Paula and Melody fighting about all those years before Mum got sick? Whatever it was, why did Mum defend Melody and not her sister?
As I sit back down with Dave and Paula joins us, my phone beeps. Oliver.
‘Please meet me at dog-training today. There’s something you have to know.’
Today is already too intense; I don’t need to hear Oliver’s confessions of love for Marissa.
‘I can’t,’ I reply.
Paula and Dave are looking at me questioningly.
‘It’s Oliver, he wants to meet, I said no, don’t worry.’
Another beep.
‘He says it’s really urgent … Hold on. I’ll just tell him no again,’ and I start typing.
‘It’s fine, sweetie,’ Paula looks at Dave who nods, ‘take a moment to digest everything and we’ll talk again this afternoon.’
I take off Mum’s dress and go back to the old me in cut-offs. I sweep my hair into a high ponytail, take it out and put it back up. ‘What do you think, Bella?’ I ask as she pushes the bathroom door open with her paw. It will have to do. Ten minutes later, David and I are driving toward the park, Bella panting in my ear as usual.
I’m happy things are getting good between me and Paula and David. Really. I am so relieved and feel a little bit warm and fuzzy. Calculating my social life status is not so good. No Marissa, Jules or Kristy, no gala, no glamorous beauty treatments with the popular girls, WildRider is gone, and my sweet Chirp sick.
And now Oliver, my super-crush who’s certainly planning on kissing Marissa at the gala, wants to talk to me. What will he say?
Chapter 19
The park is empty. There is no sign of the dog-training group.
I see Oliver by the back fence throwing a tennis ball. Tiger’s sprinting back and forth, wagging his tail wildly. I take off Bella’s leash and she sprints towards them as I walk over as casually as possible. Inside, I’m a mixed-up mess. I am so scared it’s something bad but I am still happy to see him. What could be so important?
‘Over here,’ Oliver calls.
I wave and quicken my step. Bella is already sniffing Tiger.
‘Where’s everyone?’ I ask.
‘The teacher cancelled,’ Oliver says.
‘Oh,’ I say. It’s just me and him. This is weird, and Marissa would kill me, slowly, if she knew.
/> ‘He’s good at catch,’ I kneel to pet Tiger, trying to play it cool. ‘Bella just runs off with the ball.’
We talk dogs for a few minutes and I learn some breeds are better retrievers while others are obsessed with digging; it all depends on the mix. I tell Oliver that Bella is a great bedtime ‘spooner’, except for her snoring, and he laughs.
Then the conversation finishes. Silence.
‘So …’ Oliver lets the word linger as he scratches his knee. ‘You’re going to be upset, but…’
My heart starts racing, what could he tell me that’s so bad? That he’s into Marissa – I already know that. He doesn’t owe me anything; he can like whoever he wants. I fiddle with Mum’s bracelets, feeling awkward, but he doesn’t say anything else.
‘I know you’re going to the gala with Marissa,’ I say. ‘That’s cool.’
‘What?’ Oliver says. ‘No, who told you that?’ He pauses.
My thoughts are racing now – is he not going with her? I go through all the signals he’s given out. The last time at the park when he said he liked her. Or was it her hair? He did say she was pretty. And I saw him talking to Marissa in the corridor, and again after I humiliated myself with her dad. But does that mean anything? I know she’s crushing on him, but … Did I jump to conclusions? My head hurts with the thinking of it all.
I notice his mismatched socks, one red and the other yellow. Bella is lying in the sun panting happily. Tiger looks between Oliver and the sloppy ball with unabashed hope.
‘I know your Instagram feed,’ Oliver says, picking up the ball again to throw to Tiger. VeggieGirl.’
Perfect. Now the whole class is going to make fun of me. I’ll be laughed out of town. This can’t get much worse.
I stand there like a statue. I have no idea what to do.
‘And it’s really great,’ he begins, ‘I like it. I mean …’
I’m totally lost.
‘I’m … rider,’ he mumbles.
‘What?’
‘WildRider. I’m WildRider.’ How does he even know that name? Did Marissa see my phone messages and this is another prank that everyone’s in on?
I put my hand to my stomach, feeling sick. ‘I don’t understand.’ I can hardly speak.
‘Please don’t be mad,’ he says gently.
I take a deep breath. Stay cool, stay cool.
‘I didn’t know it was you at the beginning,’ Oliver says. ‘And then, last time we were here, I realised I’d seen your dog before, in the photo you posted.’
I’m totally confused.
‘Not me, WildRider. The photo you posted of Bella that WildRider commented on. Remember?’
I nod, still unable to speak. Yes, I posted a picture of Bella on the day I found her. And many more since.
WildRider saw it. And if WildRider is Oliver, then Oliver saw it too. This is crazy.
‘To make sure I went back and re-read your posts, like the one you put up of the truck stop café on the way to West Creek. You tagged the town, remember? And of course, it all made sense.’
I desperately try to remember all my Instagram posts and every message I sent to WildRider in case of total embarrassment. Oh my God! I told WildRider all about Chirp. He knows I took her from Marissa’s father’s farm. And if Oliver likes Marissa? This is a total disaster.
‘When you asked WildRider to meet up,’ Oliver continues, ‘I got scared. I didn’t want to freak you out that it’s me, like I’m some weirdo stalker, and I didn’t know how to tell you. It’s a crazy coincidence that we go to the same school and everything. I’m so sorry.’
Going to the same school is only the beginning of the coincidence. Being in the same class. Me crushing on him. AND me crushing on WildRider too. Is my life really a bad Hollywood film? I can feel the evidence against me gathering.
‘Are you going to tell Marissa about Chirp?’ I ask, scanning the park for a bench to sit down. My legs are wobbly.
‘No way,’ he looks at me like I’m mad. ‘I don’t like Marissa, okay? Is that why you’ve been brushing me off?’
I nod.
‘I was taking it personally. Phew,’ he smiles.
‘I don’t know why you thought I like her. ‘Andrew’s totally into her. They got together a couple of years ago and he hasn’t stopped obsessing since. That rugby bastard from boarding school. I had to stop Andrew from going to beat him up, he wanted to defend her honour!’
Andrew? ‘Oh.’ I try to do some slow breathing as I take all of this in. Meanwhile, I sit cross-legged on the grass. Oliver sits too, and Tiger tries to climb into his lap, but only his front half fits. Bella sits behind me, leaning on my back. Like an armchair.
‘Are you okay?’ Oliver asks.
I nod again.
‘I think you should say something about Chirp,’ Oliver scratches Tiger’s neck, making him kick. ‘If you win the competition, you’ll have the entire school in front of you at Presentation Day.’ He continues, ‘Tell them how terrible it is, how they make chickens into monsters. Tell them what’s happened to Chirp. It might make a difference.’
I want to say something, but still feel totally stunned. We sit in silence.
‘I’m vegan too, of course,’ he offers. ‘Well, obviously, since I’m following your Instagram. My mum’s a total hippy, never eaten meat and—’
‘I ate it a few times lately,’ I blurt out, ‘but I’m back to veg now.’ I scan his face for signs of repulsion. But it’s all good. It feels amazing to tell the truth. ‘Sorry, what were you saying?’
‘Mum runs the small organic store in town, it’s all quinoa and agave at our house. She’s excited to have another veggie in town; the population goes up to, like, ten!’ he laughs.
He has talked about me to his mother? My brain’s going to explode.
‘It’s just a lot,’ I say slowly, ‘to handle.’
He nods knowingly and we sit there for a while. I’m glad our dogs are here, to give me something else to focus on.
As I’m tickling Tiger’s tummy, Oliver’s knee brushes against mine. Goosebumps again. Suddenly I realise what’s happened.
I have WildRider back! And Oliver doesn’t like Marissa! And here’s WildRider and Oliver, my two favourite guys all rolled into one super cute, sweet, smart, animal-loving package. Unbelievable!
My brain is starting to work again.
‘Will you help me plan what to do?’ I say. ‘If I win? Let’s say I have $200 to spend and a whole audience watching.’
We try to brainstorm, but come up with nothing. It’s a little hard to concentrate; he’s so close I can feel the heat of his body.
Oliver says, ‘I have an idea.’
‘What?’
‘Do you think Chirp could manage being taken out for a day trip?’ he asks.
‘Where?’
‘I’m thinking the Town Hall,’ Oliver smiles. ‘Presentation Day.’
‘You can’t be serious, even if I win, there’s no way I could …’ I stop to bite my nails.
‘You could, Sky. You totally could. And I’d help.’
Chapter 20
David picks me up from the park. ‘Where is the dog-training group, am I late?’ he asks, looking around.
I keep going with my new promise to myself. No more lying.
‘I met Oliver,’ I say. ‘He told me there was something important I had to hear. I figured it was about the gala, which I’m not going to. Well, I’m not sure now. I thought he was asking me to ask Marissa for him, but …’
‘Who was?’ David asks.
‘Oliver. Oliver was going to ask Marissa.’ I continue. ‘But big mistake. And can I even go to the gala? Marissa’s chicken-dad drama has gone crazy and now no one will talk to me. But forget that, Oliver told me he’s WildRider, you know, the guy I’ve been chatting with online and…’
‘What?’ David says, even more confused.
‘He didn’t tell me where he lives so we could meet up so I cut him off. It’s crazy, they’re the same person. Now we�
�re planning to shock the school with the hard truth about chicken farming if I win the competition. I think I have a decent chance, can you imagine, presenting next week at the Town Hall?!’
David looks at me like I’m an alien-zombie-crazy-person.
‘Don’t worry. I’ll explain,’ I reassure him. He starts the engine and I start from the beginning, slowly.
By the time we get home, David’s in the know and gives me some good advice. Maybe he can be a good fake-dad after all.
Paula is waiting for us and insists we sit down together for afternoon tea.
I give her a quick summary of my crazy Oliver experience, with David interjecting to add to the storytelling. By the end of it all, we’re all laughing at the madness of it all. Full belly laughs. It feels amazing to share my life with them, to stop lying, hiding, angry all the time. I finally believe I’m wanted, have always been wanted and feel part of this family. I touch Mum’s bracelets on my wrist; her suitcase helped make it all happen. Her spirit is here with me, with us too. I don’t want this feeling to end. Ever.
She pours me a cup and offers a plate of freshly baked biscuits.
As soon as I bring the cup to my mouth, she asks, ‘Are you feeling overwhelmed or are you okay to hear some more news?’
I nod, unsure of how many more surprises I can handle today. Paula’s tapping her foot nervously. ‘I have something to show you,’ she holds up a manila envelope.
‘Your mum and I, just before she passed, decided I would tell you about your father. You’re old enough to know the whole story,’ she points at my cup, which I’m holding mid-air. ‘Drink your tea.’
Adrenalin surges through my system again, but I bring the cup to my lips.
‘Don’t know if you’ve seen the picture of him or not,’ Paula watches me drink. ‘Probably not, knowing your mum.’
‘Not,’ I stuff a biscuit packed with chocolate chips into my mouth, and then another one.
I can’t believe it. I’m about to see my father for the first time. Today will be burned into my memory.
‘I don’t know anything about him, not even his last name,’ I say, brushing crumbs off my lap.
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