The Missing Pieces of Us

by Fleur McDonald

  Skye tried to focus back on her music. The bus was packed this morning, and she could already smell the BO. When the bus jerked forward, everyone moved with the motion. An older man stumbled into Skye’s back, making her lose her balance. Anger burned inside her.

  ‘Sorry,’ he muttered.

  She glared and turned away, then realised he would now think she was the sort of teenager who was rude to adults. The sort who doesn’t have any work ethic and believes the world owes them something—all the stereotypical things adults said about teenagers. I’m not one of them. I want to make something of myself.

  She tried to take a deep breath, but her throat closed over. Her heart started to beat really fast and beads of sweat prickled on her forehead. There was no air in the bus. She needed to get off. But no one else seemed to be having this problem. Only her. Skye pushed her way to the middle door and waited until the bus had stopped again, then she burst out onto the pavement, talking gulps of fresh, hot air.

  Okay. She would walk the rest of the way to school.

  ‘How are you feeling?’ Holly asked Lauren when she walked into the staffroom. ‘I gather you were sick yesterday.’

  Lauren put her lunch in the fridge and looked at her friend. ‘I had to have some tests done, that’s all.’

  ‘Why? What’s up?’

  Lauren repeated the story for the fifth time, barely noticing Holly’s concerned reaction. When her daughter had got up this morning, she’d said nothing to Lauren, focusing her attention on Dean. When Lauren had tried to organise picking her up after school, she’d turned away and not responded.

  Frustration had raced through Lauren and it had taken all of her willpower not to slap her daughter. Dean had reprimanded Skye, but it hadn’t made any difference. For Pete’s sake, Lauren was the one with melanoma, not Skye!

  Lauren sighed and shook away the dramas of the morning, focusing back on Holly. ‘Any news I need to know about?’

  ‘Nope, quiet as a nunnery!’

  ‘That’s got to be a good thing. Okay, well, I’ll see you at lunch.’ She left the staffroom, a few books tucked under her arm, and headed to class.

  The children welcomed Lauren back, babbling with delight. Warmth swept through her as she heard their happy chatter and questions: ‘Where were you yesterday, Mrs Ramsey?’ ‘I painted a new picture and I want you to see it!’ ‘Mrs Ramsey, I’ve got something to tell you!’

  Laughing, Lauren gazed down at all the eager faces smiling at her. ‘Let’s sit in a circle and you can all tell me something that happened yesterday while I was away,’ she said. ‘Yes! All of you, not just the ones whose turn it is. Then, I’ve got some new worksheets for you. What do you say?’

  There was a chorus of ‘Yes!’ before the children ran to the mat.

  ‘Walk, please! No running.’ Lauren turned her attention to Joy. ‘Have you seen Dirk? Is he here today?’

  ‘Yes, he’s just gone to the toilet. He was off sick again yesterday, but his two days at home don’t seem to have changed him at all. He still looks very tired.’

  ‘It can take months to get over a virus. Two days’ rest isn’t enough. It makes me want to shake Zoe.’ Lauren frowned and shook her head. ‘I didn’t mean that.’

  Joy gave her an understanding smile, then went to cut up the fruit for the children’s recess.

  Lauren’s stomach did a flip. She wasn’t sure if it was her own situation or Dirk’s that was unsettling her the most today.

  The kids made room for her in their circle, shuffling along, and Lauren sat down. ‘Good morning everyone,’ she said.

  ‘Good morning, Mrs Ramsey.’

  ‘It’s so good to see you all!’ she said. Then she noticed Dirk walk in. ‘Oh, hello there, Dirk. Come sit down with us.’ She patted a space on the floor next to her.

  As Dirk sat down, she noticed the bruises on his arms had begun to fade, but he still looked tired and drawn.

  ‘Right, news time,’ she said. ‘Katie, would you start?’

  The little girl sat forward and told Lauren about the painting she’d done the day before. ‘Mrs Clark said it was the best dragon she’d ever seen!’ she finished with a big smile.

  ‘That’s great!’ said Lauren. ‘Now, who wants to be . . . Oh, Dirk!’ she cried as she saw Dirk’s nose dripping blood all over his hands and t-shirt. She jumped to her feet, grabbed a handful of tissues and rushed back. Excited chatter erupted and a couple of kids squealed. Oddly, Dirk seemed calmer than the other children.

  ‘Shh, shh,’ Lauren soothed. ‘It’s just a nosebleed. He’ll be fine. Joy?’ She pinched the bridge of Dirk’s nose and ushered him towards the bathrooms.

  She could hear her teacher’s aide trying to restore order. As the door banged shut behind them, high-pitched voices started to sing ‘Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star’.

  ‘Okay, can you hold that?’ she asked Dirk, taking his tiny hand in hers and showing him how to hold the tissue and pinch tightly at the same time. Grabbing paper towels from the dispenser, she ran the cold water tap, wet them down and placed them on the back of his neck, all the while making calming noises.

  ‘Do you get many nosebleeds, Dirk?’ she asked when the bleeding had finally stopped. ‘I wonder if the heat caused it.’

  ‘I’ve had a lot,’ Dirk said as he wiped his nose with the back of his hand. It came away smeared with blood, but he didn’t seem disturbed by that.

  Lauren directed him to wash his hands before gently wiping his face. ‘Feel better?’ she asked softly, and he nodded, his eyes soulful and tired. ‘Is anything bothering you, Dirk? You seem very worn out. I want you to know that you can talk to me about anything you need to. Okay?’

  Again, Dirk nodded. ‘My tummy hurts sometimes.’ He gestured to his middle, and Lauren nodded. ‘Okay, is it hurting now?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Would you like to see the school nurse and lie down?’

  ‘No, I want to stay with my friends.’

  Lauren ran her hand over his hair. ‘Alright. Let’s go back, then. You’ll have to take things a bit easy so you don’t get your nose going again, okay?’

  When classes had ended for the day, Lauren googled ‘bruises, nosebleeds, sore stomach, fatigue’. WebMD popped up and gave her the top few listings of what it could be.

  ‘Haemophilia’? No. His nose wouldn’t have stopped bleeding.

  ‘Viral Syndrome’? Maybe. Maybe he just had a virus that was knocking him around. There were some nasty ones these days. Hope rose in her.

  ‘Medication reaction’? Lauren hadn’t been told if Dirk had been put on any medication, so she flicked through his file. His mother had written ‘no’ in loopy cursive when the questionnaire had asked if he was taking anything.

  ‘Aspirin use’? Lauren shook her head.

  ‘Pre-leukaemia’? She stared at the words until they blurred in front of her eyes. Leukaemia? Surely not.

  Why not? she asked herself. He wouldn’t be the first one.

  Ignoring the argument going on in her mind, she clicked ‘viral syndrome’. The website didn’t say anything about nosebleeds.

  Her cursor hovered over ‘pre-leukaemia’.

  A knock at the door. She minimised the screen and swung around in her chair.

  ‘Hey, how’re you going?’ said Holly, walking into the office.

  ‘Busy. Reports and stuff. You know how it is at this time of term.’

  Holly nodded sympathetically, and Lauren wondered if she was here to check on her. She knew Lauren would be focusing on school rather than the diagnosis, and Lauren knew that Holly didn’t think this was healthy.

  ‘Want to grab a coffee before you head home?’ Holly asked.

  ‘Sorry, I can’t. I need to check on Skye. She didn’t take the news very well.’

  ‘No worries. How was Dirk?’

  Lauren recounted everything that had happened with Dirk that day, listing the symptoms she’d just run past Dr Google.

  Holly straightened. ‘Has he had a nos
ebleed here before?’

  ‘I went back through his diary while the kids were at lunch—I write notes in each child’s diary every day. That way, the parents know how things have gone. A nosebleed is the type of thing I would have documented. Couldn’t find anything but Dirk says he’s had a lot.’

  ‘If those symptoms were all by themselves, they wouldn’t concern me, but put together, they’re definitely worrying.’

  ‘I know,’ Lauren said softly. ‘I was just googling them.’ She maximised the screen again. The cursor was still on the highlighted word ‘leukaemia’. Looking over at Holly, she raised her eyebrows to ask the question.

  ‘Dr Google has rarely diagnosed anyone correctly,’ Holly warned.

  ‘Okay, how about this?’ Lauren typed in ‘childhood leukaemia symptoms’ and hit enter. ‘Seven important symptoms of leukaemia in children’ was the first hit, so she clicked on it: ‘Bruising and bleeding.’ ‘Stomach ache and poor appetite.’ ‘Frequent infections.’

  ‘Do you think,’ Lauren asked slowly, ‘that Zoe knows something’s wrong with Dirk? When I spoke to her on Tuesday, she acted relieved when I told her about the bruises. It was as if she expected me to talk about something worse. I immediately thought of him being abused within the home, but maybe I was wrong.’

  Emotions swirled at the bottom of her stomach and started to rise up. God, the unfairness of it, if he was ill! Right after her diagnosis, she’d had the thought that her melanoma was unfair, but then she’d managed to dismiss it: life wasn’t fair. However, Dirk having cancer would take the word ‘unfair’ to a whole different level.

  ‘Lauren,’ said Holly, ‘do you think you might be getting a bit too involved here? That’s a pretty big leap. I agree that something isn’t right, but leukaemia?’

  ‘Well, give me a better answer,’ Lauren said as she swung around on her chair to face Holly. ‘It’s all right there in front of you.’ She pointed at the screen.

  Holly looked steadily at Lauren before thoughtfully tapping her fingers against her mouth. ‘Why don’t you phone Zoe?’ she said eventually. ‘Ask her to come in for a meeting with us on Monday. We can put it to bed once and for all.’

  Lauren could almost hear Holly add: And then you won’t have to be worrying about him when you should be concerned about yourself.

  ‘Where have you been all day? And why haven’t you replied to any of my texts? I thought we were meant to go to the mall this week.’ Adele nudged Skye hard with her shoulder as they walked out of class to their lockers. ‘Are you okay?’

  ‘Fine,’ Skye responded shortly, although she knew Adele wouldn’t let it slide. She never knew when to stop.

  ‘Hey, I heard Sir talking to Teabag Tonkin about your mum while they were on yard duty. They didn’t know I was behind them.’

  Skye kept walking, her head down. ‘Oh yeah?’

  ‘Said she has cancer.’

  ‘Adele!’ Jasmine, who’d just fallen into step with them, looked over at her, horrified. ‘You can’t say that.’

  ‘Why not?’ Adele stopped and grabbed Skye’s arm. ‘It’s true, isn’t it? How are you coping? Why didn’t you tell us? It must be a bit weird.’

  Skye shrugged.

  ‘What can you do?’ Adele asked.

  ‘Not much.’ It was on the tip of her tongue to yell: ‘I don’t like this. Can it just stop?’

  ‘Aren’t you scared?’ Adele wanted to know.

  ‘It’s not me who’s dying. What’s there to be scared about?’

  ‘Oh. My. God. Is she gonna die? Shit, Skye!’ Adele moved over to put her arm around her shoulders, but Skye shook her off.

  ‘I said I’m fine.’ This time she bit down on her tongue. The words ‘I’m really scared for her’ wanted to come out, but no way was she going to say them aloud.

  ‘We’re all going to die sometime,’ Jasmine said, pushing in between the two girls. ‘Leave her alone, Adele, can’t you see she’s upset?’

  ‘Don’t worry about it, Jas,’ Skye said. ‘It’s okay.’ She stopped walking and took a breath. ‘Yes, Mum has cancer. It’s melanoma. Yes, she’s gonna die, because everyone who gets melanoma does. Anything else you want to know?’

  ‘Oh, Skye,’ Jasmine started, ‘you don’t know that . . .’

  ‘I read all about it on the internet last night.’ Skye started walking again. ‘Come on, let’s get out of here.’

  ‘Hey, I’ve got an idea to take your mind off it,’ Adele said.

  That was Adele all over, Skye thought: she’d find something else to do so she didn’t have to think about what was really going on. Still, Skye had to admit that wasn’t a bad idea right at this point in time. She hadn’t heard from Billy for half a day, and a niggle of anxiety had twinged at lunchtime. He always texted her at lunch.

  ‘What did you have in mind?’ Skye asked Adele.

  ‘A dare!’

  ‘Adele, maybe not now, hey?’ said Jasmine. ‘Don’t give Skye one of your wild, harebrained schemes. Right, Skye?’

  Adele gave Jasmine the finger. ‘Who made you all knowledgeable?’ she shot back. ‘I’m just keeping our lovely Skye busy.’

  ‘For fuck’s sake,’ Jasmine said and walked ahead.

  Skye’s phone dinged. She took it out and saw a text from Billy. Stifling her smile, she stuffed her phone back so Adele couldn’t see.

  Adele leaned over and whispered a dare in her ear. Then she took a step away and crossed her arms, looking pleased with herself. ‘Go on,’ she said. ‘Do it.’

  Chapter 12

  Saturday dawned bright and clear. Lauren was standing by the front window with a cup of coffee, watching light spread across the sky. She hadn’t had the dream, but she’d woken at 3 am and lain there worrying about the melanoma—and about what she planned to do today. She’d called her parents the night before to say she was coming to visit. After her coffee and a quick breakfast, she put on her headphones and got a whole lot of chores out of the way. Dean was off at the gym, Stu was catching up with friends before heading to his job, and Skye was . . . at a basketball game? At the mall with Adele? She’d rushed out the door again without saying much.

  In the early afternoon, Lauren drove to her parents’ place. True to their routine, Connie was pruning roses and George was mowing the lawn. Lauren had called them after her diagnosis on Thursday to tell them the news, so they both gave her a big hug before they all went inside to have a cup of tea in the kitchen.

  ‘I’m sorry, Mum and Dad, but I’m going to have to look for my birth mother,’ Lauren said as she sat across the table from the couple who’d raised her from when she was three days old. I just came out with it! she thought. Dean would be proud.

  Connie’s wrinkled hands wrapped around her cup of tea and she smiled sadly, but George reached out and grabbed Lauren’s hand, pumping it up and down.

  ‘Of course you do,’ he said gruffly. ‘I’m not at all surprised, are you, dear?’ He turned to Connie.

  ‘No. No, I’m not.’ She ran her palm across the tablecloth, trying to smooth out a non-existent wrinkle. ‘What I am surprised at is that you haven’t done it sooner.’

  Lauren’s phone beeped with a text message, but she ignored it. This conversation was too important. She was about to say something more, but Connie spoke first.

  ‘Is it something you’ve always wanted to do, or mainly because of this health scare?’

  That stopped Lauren. To lie or to tell the truth? She’d been raised to always be honest. Perhaps a small white lie wouldn’t hurt.

  ‘It’s been on my mind for a long time, but there never seemed to be a right time. Whenever I started to think about talking to you, life would throw another spanner in the works and it’d get put on the backburner,’ she answered, deciding on the truth. ‘But now, it’s on my mind all the time.’ If you don’t count Dirk, she thought. ‘I’ve realised that I need to find her. I’m probably not at death’s door, but what if I was?’

  Her parents nodded, understanding in their eyes
.

  ‘You know,’ Lauren continued, ‘I’ve started researching the family tree online, just so the kids know where they’ve come from. I’d like to include my birth family in there too. I think I’d even be okay with not meeting my birth mum, but I’d like to know her name, her family and medical history, and if I’ve got any half brothers or sisters. That sort of thing.’ Lauren swallowed hard. ‘You know, I’m so grateful to you both. I doubt my life would have been as wonderful as it has been or I would have been loved as much if you hadn’t decided you wanted to give a child a home. You are my parents—not some stranger. Not someone who I haven’t seen for forty-seven years. Just because she gave birth to me, does not—’ she gave a small, harsh laugh‘—does not make her my mother. But Skye and Stu might have cousins. Maybe someone else in that family has had a melanoma too. They’re the types of things I want to know.’

  ‘Lauren, dear, we know all of that and we completely support your decision,’ Connie answered, finishing her tea and pushing her cup to the side. ‘You agree, George?’

  ‘Yes, I do.’ He smiled. The familiar wrinkles around his eyes deepened and, as always, Lauren couldn’t help smiling back. It had been like that since she was a toddler—it had been their game. He would smile and say, ‘Your turn.’ She would smile. He would laugh and say, ‘Your turn.’ Of course, then she would laugh. He would do a little dance and hop on one leg. ‘Your turn.’ And she copied him.

  Lauren breathed a sigh of relief. Why had she thought it would be so hard? And why had she left it so long? Her phone dinged again, but she ignored it. Nothing could be more important than this time with her parents.

  Digging in her handbag, she brought out a document and laid it on the table.