by Bree Verity
Maureen was the first to speak. “My goodness but you’re not what I expected.”
Desiree let loose a short bark of laughter, and Jack’s heart flew. He heard her laugh so seldom in the past week. It was good to hear it.
“I have to say, you’re not exactly what I pictured either.” They sat down together on the couch, forgetting Jack for the moment. He wasn’t perturbed. He was happy just to watch two of the three most important ladies in his life get to know each other.
Desiree continued. “What brings you to Perth? Did Jack know you were coming?” She shot a look of - was it reproach? - in Jack’s direction. He shrugged.
“No, it was a surprise visit. I missed the kids, and I have a meetin’ in Sydney with a supplier, so I thought I’d take the opportunity to drop by.” Jack wondered if the meeting was a fabrication, and mused that you couldn’t really just ‘drop by’ from Sydney to Perth. It was two thousand miles away. But he held his tongue.
“And look what she brought me.” Faith interrupted the conversation to show off her jewelery, and then the boys joined in, showing Desiree all the things Maureen had brought them. Desiree was suitably impressed, and then she caught Jack’s eye again. “Shouldn’t the boys be in bed?”
They howled in protest, and Jack shouted over the din, “I figured it was a special evenin’, they could stay up a little.” Desiree nodded, and then smiled at the boys, giving a little hooray gesture with her hands. “Yay! Staying up late!”
“Yay!” Their interest quickly returned to their toys, and Maureen took up the conversation where it had left off.
“I don’t get to see them all anywhere near often enough, and after the last call I had with Jackie, I reckon it was time to come on over and see everyone.”
Desiree sent a cheeky smile and a raised eyebrow at Jack at the sound of his nickname. He knew she would be bringing it up later.
“And, of course, I had to meet you.”
Again, Desiree laughed. “Do I meet with your approval?” She sounded amused by the exchange, but Jack noticed a little undercurrent of friction in her tone. That was the old Desiree. Not requiring anyone’s approval, and not really caring whether she received it or not. Inwardly he applauded.
“Unequivocally.” Maureen gave her a smile and a nod, and while Jack thought Desiree wasn’t terribly interested in Maureen’s approval, she seemed to relax even more when the older woman gave it.
Later, when everyone had gone to bed, Desiree asked Jack if he really had no idea at all that Maureen was traveling all the way there from Texas.
“None at all. But I’ve come to expect things like that from her.” He slipped between the sheets, feeling Desiree’s warmth against his side as he did. “When she gets an idea into her head, she’s like a bulldog with a brand new bone.”
“But why did she come? What made her so anxious to get here so quickly?”
Jack tried an innocent shrug.
“Jack Duncan, I can read you like a book. What did you say to her?”
He flushed. “Nothing much. Just told her I thought I was going to lose you.”
“Why did you tell her that?” Desiree turned on her side with a puzzled expression on her face. “She couldn’t exactly do anything from the other side of the world.”
“She’s my sister, Des. I tell her all kinds of things.” Now Desiree looked worried. He laughed gently, and took her in his arms. “I didn’t say anything bad about you.”
“You better not have.”
“It’s just that I’ve always turned to her when things have gone wrong. She’s family.” He shrugged, helpless to explain further.
Desiree smiled at him. “I guess I just don’t understand how normal families work.” Her face turned to a concerned frown, and she sighed deeply. “And on that note, I’m trying to talk myself into going to see my mother over the weekend.”
“Do you want me to come with you?”
“No, I’d better go alone. It’s going to be awkward enough as it is.”
Desiree kissed him, then turned her back on him. He felt a vague sense of disappointment, before he heard a muffled, “Jack?”
“Yes?”
“I’m getting close.”
“Close?”
“To needing to fuck you again.” Desiree’s voice sounded thick, sleepy, and incredibly sexy.
“Oh. Good.” He didn’t really know what else to say, but his body instantly responded to what it thought was an invitation. It was even more of a sign that the old Desiree was returning that she would slip into curse words. He smiled to himself, admitting that it had been odd for her not to be swearing. He had missed it.
He wondered if now was the time to make his move.
“It feels nice to know I can when I want to, but that I don’t have to until I’m ready.” Desiree’s words slurred, and Jack realised she was mostly asleep. No, now was definitely not the time to make his move.
“Just give me the word, darlin’. I’ll be waiting.”
The only response he got was a quiet snore, and a raging hard on.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE.
Desiree drove Trudy on to the cracked concrete driveway and through the industrial chain-link fence of her mother’s property in Balga.
All around it she could see the signs of progress. Freshly laid roads led to areas where buildings were being upgraded or even knocked down to make way for more modern and convenient homes. She had looked around her as she drove through the suburb, duly impressed by the obvious effort the council was making to improve the area. She wondered if the improvements had stretched to where her mother lived.
But with Trudy purring as they braked to a stop, Desiree was disappointed to see that her mothers’ poor old clapboard house seemed even more dilapidated than the last time she saw it, which was not even a year prior. At Christmastime, she had spoken to her brothers about looking after it, obviously they had found better things to do. She couldn’t blame them. She hadn’t exactly been around to tidy things up either.
It had never crossed her mind growing up, but as an adult she had realised that the house she grew up in had always been an eyesore, from its squat, square construction through to its mint green paint job. The painted windowsills were constantly cracked and flaking, and the roof tiles were covered in moss and bird shit, the broken down and rusty gutters probably doing more harm than good.
A twinge of guilt passed through her, which she quickly quashed. She was here now. She would do what she could.
She stopped Trudy’s engine and got out of the car. A new concern came to mind - what would she do about Trudy? Leave her there in front of the house where anyone walking past could deface her, or steal her?
Then she chastised herself. She had lived in the area for many years and, while there was crime, it wasn’t that bad. Only a little worse than the surrounding suburbs. Which meant that ninety-five percent of the people in the area were completely law-abiding.
Still, she locked Trudy up tight before walking over to the concrete steps leading up to the concrete porch, both of which had been painted at one time, but which now were worn and cracked.
Desiree’s heart pounded as she rapped on the door. She didn’t know what she was going to say to her mum. What did a daughter say to her mother when she found out she was dying? And she wouldn’t be surprised either if her mum took one look at her and tossed her arse back out on the street.
The door opened, and Desiree noticed two things immediately.
First, the expected choking cloud of cigarette smoke and smell didn’t appear.
And second, her mother looked old - much older than Desiree expected. And she looked thin. And sick.
With a sob, Desiree cast herself into her mother’s arms.
“What the fuck?”
Desiree laughed through her tears. There was the Mum she knew. Foul mouthed, and taking no bullshit.
Stepping back, Desiree said, “Hello, Mum.” It seemed so banal, so pointless when there were so many other thing
s to say.
“Desi. Well, I didn’t expect to see you.” It wasn’t very promising, but her Mum hadn’t sent her on her way, so Desiree pressed on.
“Can I come in?”
Her mother nodded, and turned, leading the way into the house, through the dark corridor and into the equally dark living area. The windows on the house were insufficient to let much light in, but it seemed that Desiree’s mother preferred it that way.
She levered herself into an old, tattered armchair, while Desiree perched on the edge of the worn couch. It was the same furniture that had been there for years.
“So, I suppose you found out I have cancer.”
It was a bit of a shock to hear her mother say it so easily, like it was the flu or a broken fingernail.
“Yes, I saw Aaron in Subi and he told me.”
Her mother nodded, but didn’t say anything else, her frowning gaze unnerving Desiree.
Desiree’s mother had been similar in looks to Desiree in her youth, and her gaze was still as bright as ever, despite her sunken eyes and gray skin. She wore jeans and a jumper, even though the sun shone brightly outside, and the temperature was expected to be more than 30 degrees. Her clothes didn’t match her surrounds. She had always insisted on nice clothes, no matter how disheveled and overgrown her house became. Her hair was done, and she wore a slash of lipstick. Desiree looked at her fondly, remembering the times as a teenager she had despaired that her mother insisted on wearing similar clothes to hers. It was then that Desiree had decided to go all black - something her mother could never have done. She enjoyed colour too much.
“When did you stop smoking?” Thinking back, Desiree was pretty sure her mum was still puffing away at Christmas.
“When they told me I was dying. Not sure why I stopped. Not like it was going to kill me more.” Desiree always told her mother to give up the fags, every time she saw her. She hated to sit in the lounge room, trying to see her mother through a thick haze of smoke, and trying not to breathe it in second-hand.
“It’s actually nice in here, without a blue haze.” Her mother just shrugged. “Can I do anything Mum?”
As soon as she’d said the words, Desiree regretted them. Her mother’s eyes lit up with anger and her painted lips turned down in a look that Desiree thought was disgust. But her words were even and without emotion. “Haven’t needed anything from you up ‘til now. Can’t imagine what you could do.”
“I could help…”
“Help with what? I never needed your help before. I sure as shit don’t need it now.” The impact of the words was drowned in a coughing fit, which Desiree watched in silence. She ached to jump up and help, but she knew whatever offer of assistance she gave would be waved away.
“But you’re sick, Mum.”
“Fat lot you care.” Her mother wiped her streaming eyes and dabbled at her lips with a handkerchief she pulled from inside her bra. Dimly, Desiree remembered that she had always carried one there - just in case.
“I do so care.”
“Bullshit.”
“It’s not bullshit.”
“So, how come you didn’t visit me before now? I got this death sentence in March. How come I haven’t seen you ‘til now?” The accusation in her mother’s words stung, but Desiree knew it was deserved.
“I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner.”
“It’s only because you won’t even call me.”
“I’m busy. Most of the time.” Even as she said it, Desiree knew the excuse sounded lame. She wasn’t that busy. She just didn’t want to. “And you could have called me.”
Her mother sniffed. “What, and get, ‘Can’t talk now, Mum, off to the opera? Or the ballet? Or the fucking art museum?’ No, I know when I’m not wanted.”
Desiree scowled. While her mother’s words were true - except the bit about the ballet and the opera; what the fuck? - Desiree knew she was being manipulated into a position where she would be forced to agree that she was a sad excuse for a daughter. And she didn’t like it.
“Jesus, Mum, I’m here right now. What more do you want?”
“Just would have been nice to see you more before I die.” This time Desiree rolled her eyes as her mother tried another guilt-inducing tactic, pushing all the forlornness into her voice that she could. Desiree knew she was the master of making her children feel guilty. But not this time.
“Well, here I am. And I’m fucking going to hang around until you drop off the perch, so you’ll soon be sick of me.”
Her mother chuckled suddenly, and said under her breath, “Sick to death of you.” The humor was so black and so unexpected that Desiree let out a bark of laughter.
“Yes. Exactly.”
Her mother sighed and looked on Desiree pityingly. “You are so much like me, you know. Tarred with the same brush.”
“I know.” Their similarities were more than just physical. They had clashed over and over again as Desiree grew up, purely because they had the same stubborn, prideful personality. She couldn’t help but smile, but her brows drew together.
“Mum, I really don’t want to argue, hey. I kind of want to make some happy memories.”
“So you can dredge them up when I’m gone, and tell yourself what a good daughter you were?”
Desiree shrugged. “Maybe.” There was a long silence before her mum spoke again.
“We had happy memories, you know. Before Dad left.”
“Really? I don’t remember.”
“Nah, I don’t suppose you would. You were only what, seven, when he left?”
“Six.”
“Six.”
“I do remember him a bit. But just around, you know. Hanging around. Not in any happy or sad way, just, I dunno, there.” She reflected for a moment. “I’ve always thought of him as a bastard who ditched his family for other women.”
“Yeah. He did do that, but only once things got really bad. It wasn’t always like that. Grab me that album off the table will you?” Her mum pointed to a photo album on a side table, and Desiree retrieved it for her. “Sometimes when I feel like life sucked in the biggest way, I go back and look at these, and remember some of the good times.” She patted the arm of her chair, and Desiree perched there, looking over her mother’s shoulder as she opened the album.
The first pictures weren’t photos at all, but clippings from various newspapers with notices of all of their births. With each notice was a picture of Desiree’s mum, looking in various stages of exhaustion, but proudly holding a little bundle with a scrunched up face. Desiree found her own birth notice: ‘JACKSON, Lyall and Kerrie are proud to announce the birth of their daughter Desiree Ann, born 23 November 1976, weighing 6 pound, 4 ounces. A little sister for Neville and Aaron.’ As a newborn she had a shock of dark hair, and that was all you could see of her outside the swaddling that the nurses had rolled her into.
Her mother turned the page. The faded photographs showed four children playing on a beach. They all squinted into the camera with enormous smiles on their faces, their noses and cheeks red. The smallest of them sat with a spade dug into the sand, but the other three stood beside a crooked sand castle, strewn with twigs and seaweed.
“Do you remember that?” Desiree’s mother asked, and Desiree shook her head from side to side.
“When was this?”
“You must’ve been maybe four or five there. We all went to Busso for a holiday. Was only a few days, but you kids were on the sand from sunup to sundown.”
Her mother turned the page again, and Desiree gasped. “That’s you and Dad!”
“Yep. Taken on the same holiday. I think we gave Aaron the camera.”
“But you look so happy Mum.”
“We were happy, Des. For years and years. But sometimes these things don’t last.” Her mother shrugged fatalistically. “So you move along and you keep your head above water. I’ve had plenty of time to forgive him for what he did. Now, I just remember the good.”
“It’s sad.”
“It�
�s life. You just live it.”
“What a shit way to think of it.”
“Why?”
“Because there’s so much more to life than just living.”
“Oh, here we go. Desiree telling me about all the fucking beauty in the world.”
She swallowed her irritation at her mother’s caustic remark. “No actually, I wasn’t going to. I was going to say about other people. And how they can make your life so much better, if you let them.”
“Shit, listen to you. It’s like you’re in love or something.” Her mother’s eyes may have dulled, but they glinted as the glimmer of a smile crossed her face.
“I am in love,” Desiree replied, a little colour in her face. “And its fucking brilliant. He’s an engineer, and he has three kids who are also all awesome.” She stopped for a moment, then continued, “Listen, Mum, can I ask you something?”
“What?”
“Well, I didn’t exactly have the most normal upbringing, and we aren’t exactly the most functional family.”
“Understatement, but go on.”
“I just don’t know if I’m doing it right. You know, looking after the kids. Because I never had that when I was young.”
Desiree’s mother scowled. “Are you saying I didn’t look after you well enough?” Before Desiree could shake her head, she continued. “I did all that I could for you lot and it was bloody never good enough for you was it? Little miss prissy pants, fucking nose in the air.”
“No, Mum. Stop, fuck. I know you did all you could. Jesus, don’t be so touchy.”
A spot of colour appeared in her mother’s sunken cheeks, and she said gruffly, “Sorry. I s’pose I do get a bit sensitive about that stuff.”
“Maybe just a little bit.” The words came out more sarcastic than Desiree wished, and her mother again glared at her. “I just wanted to ask you. With all of the shit that went down, do you think I’ll ever be a good mother?”
“What’s a good mother?” Desiree’s mum sniffed disparagingly. “I thought I was a good mother to you lot. I worked hard to put food on the table and clothes on your backs, even when your dad didn’t pay the child support. I made sure you went to school. Wasn’t my fault Nev wagged as soon as my back was turned.”