‘Fate,’ Mary says very contentedly. ‘That’s fate.’
‘There’s no such thing,’ Kelly says.
Mary ignores her and pours more champagne.
‘There’s not, Mary. It’s all coincidence. All of it.’
‘Right.’ Mary turns away from Kelly and settles back in her chair with her champagne. ‘So, tell me about your life. You’re in Sutherbend, right?’
‘Yeah. Sutherbend. There’s my mum and my dad and my sister, Taylor. We’ve just . . . downsized.’
Mary smiles at me. ‘What sort of place did you downsize to?’
‘Um . . .’
‘They moved to Fairyland,’ Kelly says flatly.
‘Fairyland? The place that had the meth lab blow-up?’
‘It’s really not like that,’ I say. ‘That guy was trying to get money for his sick brother.’
Mary and Kelly both look at me.
‘The people there are really great! This dog got bitten by a snake and there was a huge vet bill that everyone put in for. Even the guy who hates the dog because the dog digs up his potatoes.’
‘There are snakes there?’ Mary puts her glass down on the table.
‘Only in the long grass,’ I say impatiently. ‘Anyway. One lady lent me all these books – she was a lecturer at university, but got involved with the wrong guy. And there’s this other lady who has a motorcycle – her husband left her a few years ago.’
Kelly shakes her head.
‘Oh, here we go,’ Mary says, settling back in her chair.
‘People are so careless with relationships,’ Kelly says. ‘Do you have a boyfriend?’
‘No,’ I say quickly.
‘Good. Sensible. People put too much stock in romance. Most relationships aren’t worth it. People latch onto anyone who shows the slightest bit of interest and it always ends in disaster.’ She pauses and Mary throws her arms in the air in defeat. ‘People are just scared to be alone.’
‘And some people are scared not to be alone,’ Mary snaps.
Kelly shrugs. ‘I’m not scared. I just happen to really like my life the way it is.’
‘But you could be so happy!’
‘I am happy,’ Kelly says grumpily. She gets up to go to the bathroom and Mary sighs and leans in towards me. ‘I’m one of the idiot romantics she was referring to,’ she says in a low voice. ‘She reckons that I’ve got eyes bigger than my brain when it comes to pretty girls.’
‘Think I might be an idiot romantic, too,’ I say. I’d given up checking my phone for messages. Clem’s name never popped up on the screen.
‘But I wouldn’t have it any other way. Even when relationships turn out not to be what I thought they were, there’s always something there that makes them worthwhile, you know? It’s a privilege to be in a relationship with someone – to be invited into their life.’
I nod, wondering what Taylor would think of all this. Not that I’d dare bring it up so soon after Adam – she’d probably burst into tears or punch me or both.
Mary sips her champagne. ‘She is afraid, you know. She has been since she was a teenager. It breaks my heart.’ She smiles at me. ‘I was so scared she was going to botch it up with you – with meeting you. She’s not good with people, you know? She’s so terrified of being vulnerable. I mean, I get it. After what she’s been through. She’s very protective, very careful with everything. Drives me nuts, to be honest. But, I’m just grateful. I nearly passed out when she told me she’d asked you to stay – I don’t think anyone’s stayed in that spare room since I crashed in there the night she moved in.’
‘Oh,’ I say.
‘I mean – it’s unprecedented. I’m the only person she lets into the place. Well, apart from tradesmen. And only when she really, really needs help. She’s very handy. She has a drill.’
‘I had no idea it was such a big deal.’
‘Oh, I hope I haven’t made you uncomfortable!’ Mary puts her champagne down roughly and grabs my hands. ‘Oh, sweet girl. I just want you to know how badly Kelly wants to know you, that’s all.’
‘I really want to know her, too.’
‘She’s worth it. I know she can be a bit prickly and weird, but she’s so worth it. I’m lucky to have her as a sister. So, so lucky.’
‘And I’m lucky to have her as a . . .’ I stop. As a what? A friend? A relative? A mother?
‘Still don’t know what to call her, hey? Don’t worry – it’ll come. Or it won’t. I’ve always thought labels are overrated, anyway. She can just be your Kelly and you can just be her Stella.’
‘I like that.’
‘Anyway – sorry. I know none of this has anything to do with me. I really, really do know that. I swear – one champagne and I don’t shut up!’
‘You don’t shut up, anyway,’ Kelly says, coming back into the kitchen. ‘Would you like an iced water, Stella?’
‘I’m fine, thank you,’ I say. ‘I was just wondering though . . .’
‘Yes?’
‘Has my key been cut yet?’
‘No, not yet. I’m sorry – things have just been so frantic at work.’
Later, as Kelly opens the car, Mary holds onto me on the verandah and gives me a tight, sweet hug. She stands back and smiles at me. ‘Stella, just so you know, I wouldn’t count on that key.’
‘What?’
‘Here’s my number.’ She hands me a business card. ‘Call me any time, okay?’
‘Thanks. What do you mean, though? About not counting on that key?’
‘I don’t think she even keeps a spare of it. I mean, I’m sure she wants to do it for you, but I’m not sure that she can. And I don’t want you to keep waiting for it.’
‘Oh.’
‘Prickly and weird but worth it.’ She kisses my cheek. ‘Sweet dreams.’
On the way home, Kelly and I don’t talk. I notice her breathing relax as we get further away from the suburb where she grew up. Her fingers stay gripped too tightly around the wheel. I text Taylor.
I miss you.
She texts back straight away. Miss you too, KJ xoxoxoxoxox
***
The next morning, I pull on some clothes without looking at myself in the mirror and get ready to head to the library.
‘You look good,’ Kelly says, pausing in the doorway of the bathroom. She’s dark under the eyes. I’d heard her moving about in the night, as though she couldn’t sleep. At one point I thought I’d heard her cry. I chant, I’m here, I’m here, I’m here. It’s all okay. I’m here. ‘Where’re you headed?’
‘The library.’
‘The library?’
‘Lockwood library – the range of books they have is incredible. I didn’t know they made libraries like that!’
‘If . . .’ She shakes her head. ‘You know what? We can talk about it tonight.’
‘Talk about what?’
‘Lockwood High.’
‘What about it?’
‘It’s a good school and it’s a kilometre away.’
‘But . . .’ I blink. ‘I don’t live here . . . I don’t . . . It’s so far from home.’
‘Things change,’ Kelly says, picking up her handbag. ‘I was thinking, if things pan out okay, that you might be able to stay here longer. You could transfer schools.’
‘Stay here longer?’
Kelly flushes ‘Yes, well. We can talk about it, anyway. I’ll be home by six. Remember to double-check the gate lock.’
‘I will.’
Putting a banana in my bag, I see the school brochures. Shiny and bright. I trace my fingers over the logos, the smiling students with their armfuls of books. I try to imagine any of them trying to check the pokies to see if their dad’s there; I try to imagine any of them in Fairyland. But I can’t.
Her house seems suddenly too quiet. I’m glad to shoulder my bag and go out onto the street, where the noise of other people’s lives washes over me like water.
***
The next day, I invite Lara and Zin over to Kell
y’s and they arrive red-cheeked and eager. Zin almost cries when she sees the garden. ‘Stell! She has zinnias!’ She strokes the petals and bursts into tears and Lara walks around her. ‘Let’s go in,’ she says.
We take off our shoes at the door and read Kelly’s magazines at the kitchen table. I put on some music quietly, as though Kelly is still here. We eat over the kitchen bench so there are no crumbs.
I see Kelly before I hear her, very pale in the doorway with her laptop case in her hand.
‘Stella, can I have a word?’
I follow her out onto the deck.
‘I don’t like people over. I’ve told you that.’
‘They’re just my friends . . .’
‘You need to leave,’ Kelly says, raising her voice. ‘Both of you. Out. Out.’
Zin and Lara stare at her. ‘Out!’ Kelly yells and her voice is so loud that I wince. Lara and Zin glance at me worriedly. They put on their shoes and grab their bags.
‘Stella told us we couldn’t eat on the carpet,’ Zin says.
‘Out,’ Kelly says and I can see that she’s shaking, sweating. After they leave she sits down at the kitchen table and breathes into a paper bag. I watch, sort of fascinated. I’d read about people hyperventilating, but never seen it before. I know I should offer to help, except I can’t. Angry. Shocked. Exhausted.
When her breathing has returned to normal, I hover in my bedroom doorway, half expecting her to call me over and apologise. When she doesn’t, I peer out. She has her head resting on the tabletop, the bag still scrunched in her fingers.
***
I’ve started having nightmares where Kelly’s being attacked over and over and there’s nothing I can do to help her. I wake up all through the night and sometimes I can hear Kelly walking out towards the garden and wonder what’s woken her. I want to talk to her, but I don’t know how.
I’ve started spending long periods of time gazing at myself in the bathroom mirror above the expensive-looking vanity in Kelly’s bathroom. I’ve spent enough time staring at Kelly now to be able to find her in my features. My eyes, which I’ve always loved, are not the same colour as Kelly’s. Must be his eyes. I hate them. My fingers are stubbier, my jaw less defined. Hate, hate, hate. I wish I could cut the parts of him out of myself, but then there’d be too little left of me to survive.
I want to help Kelly. Sometimes I think about all the strategies and ideas I could talk to her about, but I don’t know enough and I’m so scared of saying the wrong thing. I’m scared of making things worse. Mostly, I keep thinking about what people at Fairyland kept telling me about how I don’t need to fix everyone.
But Kelly isn’t everyone. She may not be my mum, but she’s my mother. I should be able to fix my own mother.
It makes me feel sick, every day. And I watch Kelly, working on her laptop or talking on her phone or working obsessively out in her little garden. Her Eden, she calls it. Her sanctuary.
She’s out most nights. I’m sick of potato chips. And I still don’t have a key.
***
‘Mum, I’ve told you already,’ I say, trying to keep my voice down. ‘It’s nothing personal – she just doesn’t like people visiting her place.’
‘Why?’ I can hear the panic rising in Mum’s voice. ‘Is it awful? Is it dangerous? Hang on a sec.’ Her voice becomes muffled and I suppose she’s covered the phone with her hand. ‘Oh, Taylor! Stop that! You can call Stell yourself later!’
‘No – it’s not dangerous. Her place is amazing. I’ve got my own queen-sized bed and everything.’ My words are hollow. They taste sour and coppery on my tongue.
‘Oh,’ Mum says in a small voice.
‘I can hear the beach, Mum. When the wind’s blowing the right way, anyway.’
‘I’d really be more comfortable if I could see the place. I might give her a call and talk to her about it.’
‘Mum! I’ve told you! She has a big job! Her home is her sanctuary!’ I don’t realise how loud my voice is until I hear a knock on my half-open door.
‘Is that your mum?’ Kelly asks.
‘Yeah. Sorry,’ I say, covering the mouthpiece. ‘Sorry to be loud.’
Kelly holds out her hand. ‘I can talk to her.’
‘Alright.’ I slowly hand over my phone. I hold my breath as Kelly goes out onto the deck. If it was Mum out there, I’d sit with my ear pressed to the door until she’d finished.
Kelly comes back in and hands me my phone. ‘It’s all organised,’ she says, leaving the bedroom door half open on her way out, exactly how she’d found it.
‘Stell?’ Mum’s saying on the phone, over and over, like she doesn’t quite believe I’m coming back onto the line.
‘I’m here,’ I say, watching as Kelly collects her bag and waves at me from the front door.
‘Kelly says we can come to dinner on Wednesday,’ Mum tells me. ‘She said she’d love to have us.’
‘Oh. She did?’
‘Are you trying to keep us away? Do you not want us there, Stell? Is that it?’
‘Of course not! She normally doesn’t like people here – only her sister. She’s making a really big effort, having you over.’
‘Right.’
‘Mum . . . Can you . . .’
‘Can I what?’
‘Can you just make an effort, too?’
‘Make an effort?’ Mum sighs. ‘Can I be sure not to embarrass you? Is that what you mean?’
‘That’s not what I said! And it’s not what I mean!’ I flop back onto my bed and close my eyes. ‘I just mean – it’s a big deal for her to invite you here. I want you to make sure you acknowledge it, that’s all.’
Mum sighs like I’m being unreasonable. ‘Alright.’
‘And make sure Taylor wears something that’s not ripped to pieces.’
‘Who can make Taylor wear anything?’ Mum asks wearily. ‘Don’t think I’ve been able to get her into clothes she doesn’t want to wear since Year Three.’
‘Well, just . . . is she sleepwalking?’
‘What?’
‘Taylor. Has she been sleepwalking?’
‘Nothing too bad. Nothing we can’t handle.’
‘Good. Anyway, about Wednesday. I need this to go well, okay?’
‘It will,’ Mum says.
***
We have a Year Twelve orientation morning at school. It’s meant to prepare us for everything before school starts. Lara prods me. ‘What’s with you?’ she whispers, shoving her book towards me so I can copy down her answers.
I manage to do so without the teacher noticing.
‘I’m worried about you,’ says Lara. ‘Particularly after Kelly flipped out like that.’
I don’t reply. I’m planning Wednesday – what we’ll eat, what we’ll talk about. I’ve started scribbling down ideas for conversation topics. I want them to like each other. I need it to go well. I’m not using Wednesday’s plans as a way to avoid thinking about Clem. It’s just important.
Lara sighs. ‘You know, for all your stuff about open communication, you never really tell us what’s going on with you.’
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
On Wednesday morning, I sit down opposite Kelly and watch her eating an apple with a fork while she types on her laptop. Outside, her sprinkler system hisses and a magpie perches on the edge of the glasshouse.
‘Kelly?’
‘Yeah?’
‘I can pick things up for the dinner tonight if you like?’
‘The dinner?’
‘The one you organised for tonight with my mum and Taylor.’
‘Oh, you’ll need to cancel that. Sorry – I thought I’d told you already. I’ve had a meeting come up.’
‘They could just come for a little bit?’
‘Sorry, Stella. Another time, hey?’
‘Okay. They were excited, but okay.’
Kelly finishes her apple and doesn’t look up from her screen. When she leaves, I go into her glasshouse and snap leaves off her seedlings, one by one.
***
I can’t stand the idea of calling Mum, so instead I text Taylor and tell her about the dinner being cancelled. I tell her I’ll bring dinner to Fairyland and then I go off without telling Kelly where I’m going or when I’ll be back.
I walk up and down the beach for a while and then I get on the train to Sutherbend. I nearly walk to Clem’s and then I change my mind and walk to Zin’s, instead. She’s home and grins and hugs me when I tap on her window. ‘I’m seeing Monica later. But I’m free for a couple of hours.’
‘How is Monica?’
‘She’s more glorious than I ever imagined.’
Zin chatters and I find myself longing for Clem. Clem, who I can sit in silence with. When it’s time for Zin to go and meet Monica, she pulls me into a tight hug. ‘I love you, Stell.’
I hug her back. She smells like flowers and cookies. ‘I love you, too.’
I pick up some pizzas and walk to Fairyland, where Taylor is on the phone to Adam and Mum is dozing in front of the television in her work clothes.
‘Pizza!’ Taylor says, hanging up the phone and pouncing on the boxes. Mum wakes up and smiles at me, and I can see that she’s cut the split ends off her hair and painted her nails, for Kelly’s.
‘I’m sorry it got cancelled,’ I say. I can see Mum’s good blouse hanging on the end of the bunk bed.
Mum waves her hand. ‘We’ll go over there another time. Maybe next week?’
I don’t know how to tell her that I don’t think Kelly will ever have her and Taylor over, so I eat my pizza quickly and then go out for a walk to say hello to people and see how the plants and trees are all going.
Taylor catches up to me and says something I can’t hear.
‘What?’
‘I said, are you going to stay at Kelly’s?’
‘What? No. Of course not.’
Taylor glances sideways at me. ‘Because Kelly called Mum a few days ago. Sounded like she was asking about you staying there for longer.’
How to Grow a Family Tree Page 22