by Anita Heiss
'Coffee, bub?' she asked as she got the jar out of the cupboard. I didn't have the heart to tell her I only drank barista coffee since moving to Melbourne and couldn't face the instant variety any more.
'I might have a tea eh, Mum, just black.' I also didn't want to say I'd moved on to soymilk and preferred my tea green, not black. She would think I was being too uptown. If I could get through the time on the coast without having a row with Mum, then my Christmas would be perfect.
'So, when you going to settle down and have a family of your own?'
Mum got straight to the point; it was one of the traits I'd inherited from her.
'Mum!' I protested.
'Okay, okay, then. How's James?' But talking about boyfriends with her was not something I had ever done or wanted to do. I had always viewed my mother harshly for having had so many husbands and leaving me so distrustful of men and relationships.
'He's fine, spending Christmas with his family. They have everyone over to their home and do the traditional Christmas thing, you know, turkey and all the trimmings.' My mum wasn't much of a cook either – the reason the men never stayed, she used to joke. But we didn't want turkey anyway, it was so hot and humid that seafood was our Christmas Day menu.
'Are you going to marry him?' she asked.
'Hell. I don't know. Can we talk about something else?' I said rudely and took my cup to the sink. 'Actually, no!' I turned back to her. 'Let's talk about it, about your divorces, and the defective marriage gene you've given me.'
'What are you talking about? And don't take that tone with me – I'm still your mother.'
'You were married three times and divorced three times, Mum. Why would you want me to get married when it obviously never worked for you? All your marriages failed.'
'Firstly, three divorces out of three marriages means I have a hundred per cent success rate. And that's how I'd prefer to look at it.' Mum poured herself another cup of tea. 'Secondly, they didn't really fail. They gave me four beautiful children, and many years of happiness when the times were good. And that's the way I choose to look at it. Always look on the bright side is what one of those husbands used to say to me.' She smiled and sipped her tea.
'But they didn't stay!' I was confused.
'No they didn't, but it's not because they didn't want to. I didn't want them to.'
'What? Why? I don't even know my own father.'
'Your father . . .' My mother paused, 'had an affair with his secretary for the first two years he was married to me and while I was pregnant with you. He was not the kind of man I wanted my first-born child to know. He didn't respect me, or you in my belly, and I couldn't have that. I was short-tempered and perhaps a little short-sighted at the time, but I knew my mind and I told him to leave and never come back. And he left and didn't come back, which tells you what kind of man he was. I'm so sorry that you didn't have a decent dad, it was my fault I chose a bad man.'
'But what about Gerry? He was a good father to Ben, Matt and Gis. He was lovely. Why did he leave? I know it wasn't your cooking, because he did all the cooking.'
'The others don't know this, but Gerry is gay. Of course he wasn't when he married me, but then one day, I don't know, he woke up and was gay. What was I supposed to do? Should I have told my children, "Gerry's your mum and your dad?"'
'Gay? Gerry? Oh my God, that's harsh to deal with when you've been married and had kids together. I'm sorry, it must have been hard for you.'
'Yes, when your first husband is having sex with another woman and your second husband tells you he wants to have sex with men, it doesn't make you feel very good about yourself at all. And so I vowed never to have sex again.'
'But then you married Kevin?'
'I married Kevin because I wanted companionship, not sex, which in fact we ended up having anyway, but only after we went to the club and drank too many middies of beer. I realised Kevin was an alcoholic when I woke up with a hangover every day for six months. It was too much. I vowed off the booze and the bed and I've been happier ever since.' Oh God, I got the celibacy gene from Mum also – but that was not a conversation I was going to have with her, not now.
'Wow, why haven't you ever told me this? Or Gis at least?'
'Because as kids I told you to stop asking me questions that I couldn't answer and then you just stopped asking all together. I'm sorry, but I did the best I could. Now I'm trying to just live the life I've got. No point in living in the past, is there?'
'You're so right.' My mum had wisdom and a history I had never appreciated or known.
'And the only defective gene you might have is the gene that makes you pick the wrong men. It's got nothing to do with marriage, though. Not if you pick the right one. Is James the right one?'
'Well, he would never cheat on me, he certainly isn't gay, and he doesn't even like me drinking too much, let alone him drinking too much.'
'Sounds like the right one to me.' Mum poured another cuppa for both of us and we sat looking into the back garden, where Kyla was wrestling with a bone.
Mum and I went to midnight mass and at nine the next morning my siblings arrived with all their kids. Ben dressed up as Santa, Matt cooked the barbecue and Gis and I sat back and she told me all about life on the coast. Aunty Nell rang from Melbourne after lunch to say Merry Christmas and as Mum chatted with her I could finally see the similarities between them. They were both happiest with their kids and grandkids around them. It was the best Christmas I had ever had, and I had to tell James about it when he called.
'I've had the most wonderful day. Mum and I had a great talk, the kids were so much fun and they made me cards, and it was great to see Ben, Matt and Gis. I'm so glad I came up here.'
'Sounds like you didn't miss me at all today.'
'What?' I was stunned. 'It's not always about you, James. I just had Christmas Day with my family for the first time in four years. I learned things about my mother and my father that I never knew. And somehow, it's turned into a discussion about whether or not I miss you. I just called you, didn't I?'
'I'm sorry.'
'I've got to go.' I hung up.
Later that night as I got into bed, I checked the messages on my phone and he had called to apologise. I didn't have the energy to talk, so just sent him a text:
I'm sorry 2. It's been an emotional 24 hrs 4 me. Cya soon n we can make up! Px
At midnight my mobile sounded with a message:
Merry Christmas Peta! Hope Santa was good 2 u. Mike
The message made me smile and I texted back:
Merry Xmas 2 u 2! On Gold Coast with fam. Was Santa kind 2 u? P
He texted back immediately:
I asked Santa 2 put me in ur stockings, but he said I wouldn't fit. LOL.
Mike was funny, and it was just so easy to be his friend.
Perhaps I shoulda taken them off first. Hehehehe!
It was harmless flirting. Next he asked:
When r u back?
I texted him back:
Jan 4 back @ work. Finish up end of month.
My phone buzzed again straight away:
Can I buy u dina b4 u leave?
I smiled again.
That'd b nice. Will let u know date of departja. Off 2 bed. Nite.
♥
I'd had a great time in Coolangatta, but I was looking forward to New Year's Eve in Sydney. I'd well and truly made up for my time away from my family and now I could relax at the beach with my friends.
I stayed with James in the inner west and discovered he'd already started packing boxes, assuming he'd be moving in with me when I returned to Sydney, although we hadn't discussed it properly at all. He'd gone to a lot of trouble to make the place pretty for me: lots of flowers and Christmas decorations. He took me to Cafe Sydney for my belated birthday dinner and prepared a dinner for us at home to celebrate Christmas. He also gave me some lovely gifts: diamond earrings from Dubai, perfume, lingerie and a double-sized beach towel for us both to lie on.
On t
he inside of the pantry door hung a calendar and he'd been marking off the days until my return, like a prisoner checking the days until parole or release. It was sweet, but I couldn't help thinking that my perfect James was a little obsessive. Still, I couldn't fault his commitment. He loved me, he wasn't shy about saying so, and he'd never leave me. James was a known quantity – something my mum had never found in a man – so I tried not to think too hard about his flaws. I didn't have time, anyway – we were going to enjoy the fireworks from Alice's balcony, and had to get ready to go.
It was one of the best New Year's Eves I'd ever had. Alice and Gary were so at peace in their little home, glowing with the preparations for their wedding in March. Dannie and George were both glowing with the thought of their new baby due in April. Liza and Tony were back together and he was booking dinners out at restaurants and taking a basic cooking class and getting naked as often as Liza wanted him too, so they were glowing from lots of sex without socks. And then there were James and I. It seemed like all the old friends back together. But we weren't getting married or having a baby, and we weren't even having lots of sex any more. James didn't seem to care, though, as long as we were all together.
'This is how it should be, babe,' he said, as we watched the fireworks and celebrated the beginning of another new year.
forty-three
Heavy hearts
In January I was so busy analysing the impact of the first six months of the implementation of some of our new policies and programs that I didn't have time to think about James and what was waiting for me on my return back to Sydney.
My time at DOMSARIA had clarified my absolute commitment to forging a career in arts and culture, but I was heading back home to my old job in education. Although I was worthy of a promotion I knew there wouldn't be one until a position became available, so I felt like I was going backwards. I still wanted to be Minister for Cultural Affairs one day, and that meant I'd have to start looking at vacancies in other departments almost immediately in order to keep moving in the right direction. I was only now beginning to realise how much I would miss my job here in Melbourne – and my colleagues.
'You got a minute, boss?' Sylvia and Rodney were at my door.
'Yes, well I won't be boss for much longer.'
'That's what we wanted to talk about,' Rodney said, following Sylvia into the office and closing the door behind them.
'Oh, come right in and close the door behind you, please,' I joked. We had a good rapport, the three of us, and they took charge when they needed to. 'What's wrong?'
'Nothing's wrong, Rodney just had something he wanted to run by you.'
'Well, speak now or forever hold your peace,' I joked, trying to hide my heavy heart.
'You've heard of that new Centre for News on Email, Radio and Downloads?'
'Otherwise known as the Centre for NERDs? Yes, I've heard of it, it's the joke of the bureaucratic world. Why?'
'They're looking for a CEO, and I've got the inside that they love what you've done here, what with policy and setting up a strong foundation for the team.'
'So, you're suggesting I be the CEO of NERDs. Is that what you're telling me? I'm not quite sure how to take that.' I thought it was hilarious, but neither Sylvia nor Rodney laughed.
'He's serious,' Sylvia said.
'Oh, right. Look, I'd love to be in charge of NERDs,' I giggled, 'but I wish you wouldn't give me these teasers on the eve of me leaving. It's hard enough to say goodbye and go without you giving me options to stay. How hard would it be to manage NERDs anyway?' I couldn't help myself, and they both finally cracked a smile.
'We just don't want you to go is all,' Sylvia sniffled.
'We've loved working with you – just wanted to thank you for being such a considerate, kind and always-there-for-us boss,' Rodney said earnestly.
'Aw, gee, thanks,' I didn't mean to sound corny, but I was touched.
'And it's not because we don't really like the dragon lady who's starting in your position next week,' Rodney added, trying to lighten the mood.
'Aw, gee, thanks again – I think?' I told him and looked towards Sylvia, who was blotting her eyes, no doubt hoping not to smudge her expertly applied kohl. 'You do realise that I would poach you both and take you with me, if I could. A manager is only as good as their staff. And as management goes, I've had a very easy run with you two on my team. So, in actual fact, I should be thanking you.' And tears started to fall from my own eyes as Sylvia passed me a tissue.
'Right – can't be seen to be crying in front of the rest of the staff. Let's fix ourselves up and head out to that luncheon I know everyone's been waiting to have.'
We all went to lunch and there were more tears all round. Sylvia made a speech on behalf of my team before announcing she'd written something poetic for me. I started to cry before she'd even started reading.
'I was going to write you a haiku, but haiku are not my strong point. Then I thought a sonnet, or an ode, but I decided on a limerick, because it just seemed the best way to sum you up. Here goes:
'There's a girl from Sydney called Peta
She's your friend the minute she greets ya
She's the world's best boss
Now the department's at a loss
So if you get the chance you should meet-a.'
I sobbed unashamedly while the rest of the table laughed and cheered loudly. I blew my nose, took a deep breath and stood up.
'Right, well, I don't have a prepared speech, because my speechwriter has been busy writing Nobel Prize–winning limericks. Thank you, Laureate Sylvia.' And there was another round of applause.
'But I did want to take a moment to let you all know how much I've enjoyed working with you the past twelve months. I've had an amazing year both professionally and personally, I'm very sad about leaving Melbourne and the department and all the friends I've made here. And I'd like to make special mention of my wing-woman, diarist, bodyguard, travel agent, driver and now, personal limerick-ist, Sylvia.' I looked directly at Sylvia, who smiled through black-ringed eyes. Her attempts to remain smudge-free had failed. 'I'd like to thank you for making my job at DOMSARIA not only manageable, but pleasurable as well. Finally, I'd like to make a toast to you all, and wish you well in all your goals. Cheers.' With that everyone raised his or her glass, and I knew that one of the most important parts of my life in Melbourne had come to a close.
I'd agreed to meet up with Mike for a quick farewell at the George before heading home, but I was feeling emotionally drained by the time I got there.
'Hello, beautiful,' Mike said when I arrived. 'Sorry, I'll start again – hello, Peta.'
'Hi.' I looked into his blue, blue eyes and I was suddenly overwhelmed. If I stayed there feeling as vulnerable as I did, I'd say or do something that I knew I'd regret immediately. I was leaving Melbourne tomorrow morning and James would be waiting for me at the airport at the other end. My year was up. I'd met the challenge I had set myself professionally, and it was time to go home. Kissing Mike at the eleventh hour would only knee-cap me, Mike and James at the same time.
I tried to swallow the lump rising in my throat. 'I'm really sorry, but I feel completely wiped out and I don't think I can stay. I'm sorry.'
Mike looked disappointed, but he nodded.
I started to walk off.
'Hey, aren't you forgetting something?'