The Ties That Bind

by Lexi Landsman

  Courtney was filled with happiness as she watched Matthew peer through the telescope, pointing in different directions, awe clear on his face. But the moment was one tinged with sadness; something inside Courtney told her to take a mental snapshot. To remember his delight. His smile. His ocean-blue eyes. The joy of giving him a gift. It was the part of her that didn’t know when a moment like this would come around again.

  ‘This is the best present, Mom and Dad,’ he beamed.

  ‘Well, buddy,’ David said, ‘you deserve it. You’ve been such a strong boy. And we’re so proud of you.’

  ‘You know, sweetheart,’ Courtney added, ‘you’re our star.’

  ‘And I have one more present for you,’ David said, handing over an envelope.

  Their son looked up, confused. ‘Go on, open it.’

  Matthew pulled out two small tickets, and as he read them the expression on his face was magical. ‘Dad,’ he said, with damp eyes. ‘This is the best present ever. Manchester United and the New York Red Bulls … in New York,’ he said slowly. ‘You mean it? These tickets are for us?’ He was incredulous.

  ‘Yes, buddy,’ David said, smiling. ‘Just you and me, and some of the best soccer players in the world.’

  Courtney’s heart tugged seeing her husband so close to tears and her son so filled with joy. ‘Hey, what about me?’ she joked.

  ‘You can watch us on television,’ David laughed. ‘Because those tickets are on the halfway line.’

  Matthew’s grin seemed to fill the room with light. ‘I can’t wait to tell Dean.’

  Courtney didn’t even want to think what David had paid for the tickets or how he managed to get them. All that mattered was that her son was happy and smiling.

  Matthew’s blood results came back later that afternoon to show he was doing well and could go home before he moved onto the consolidation phase of treatment.

  When they came to take him home, he was sitting next to little Ella, proudly showing her how to look through the telescope. When they approached Matthew’s room Courtney could only see the back of them: her son’s bald head covered in a cap, Ella’s blonde hair plaited in pigtails, her legs hanging over the edge of the chair.

  Watching them, it was almost possible to imagine that they were somewhere else enjoying a normal birthday party, not here, looking at the world from a distance, compressed under the viewfinder of a single lens.

  64

  JADE couldn’t believe she was in Miami, 15,000 kilometres from home, on another continent.

  She gazed out the bus window as the unfamiliar city whizzed past her. She thought about her mother: Did Asha feel like this each time she arrived somewhere new? Was she bothered by the displacement, or did she relish it? Jade had to admit that there was something freeing about being in a place where no one knew her baggage. They didn’t know the secrets she carried, the weight of things past. Maybe that was why Asha was always running. To extricate herself from herself. To no longer be the sum of her past.

  Jade liked that in this foreign place she wasn’t the girl whose mother always disappeared, the olive grower who lost her home and orchards in the fires, the sibling of an abducted child. She was anonymous.

  When Jade arrived at her hotel, she was pleasantly surprised to find it more luxurious than she’d imagined for the budget price. It was small and quaint, with a square pool and courtyard. She put her stuff down in her room and texted Adam to say she had arrived. She hadn’t slept on the second leg of the trip, so she thought she’d be dizzy with exhaustion by now, but a sense of urgency and adrenaline pushed her forward.

  She changed into a pair of denim shorts with a grey T-shirt Adam had bought her from the Bondi markets, then took out the gift she had for Matthew.

  She’d chosen the hotel because it was near Courtney’s house, and now she walked there, clutching the gift, hoping her sweaty palms wouldn’t crinkle the paper. She followed the directions the hotel had given her, which led her on a shortcut through the university. Students passed her and smiled as if she were one of them. She walked alongside art halls, where she glimpsed through the windows at students painting on canvases. It was a beautiful campus, with wide green lawns and tall palm trees. She passed the dorm rooms and walked out to the back street exit of the campus and another two blocks before she came to Courtney’s street. She walked slower now, gathering her breath, steadying herself. Her heart was banging in her chest as she neared their house. It suddenly occurred to her that they might not be home.

  Everything had happened so quickly after Jade made the decision to go; she’d got on a flight the day after discovering the letter and here she was now, about to meet her sister for only the second time in her life. Jade had thought about calling before she booked anything, but the scenarios she imagined had put her off the idea. Courtney would probably have told Jade to be tested in Australia, and if Jade hadn’t been a match, the door to any chance of a relationship would have closed again and she might never get to know her sister. Courtney might assume that Jade was of the same ilk as their mother, so it would be understandable if she didn’t expect much from her. In the end Jade had decided that actions spoke louder than words. This was her way of saying she was nothing like Asha.

  Jade stopped at number sixty-four. She looked at the letter again, checking the house number even though it was etched into her mind from re-reading it so many times.

  Tall palm trees lined the brick driveway. The house was bigger than she’d imagined: two storeys, with red Tuscan roof tiles, arched windows and Juliet balconies.

  She paused, trying to steady herself and think of what she would say. Jade couldn’t see a bell so she was about to knock on the front door when she noticed a side gate. She stepped quietly onto the large grass lawn, where a pool glistened in the light. For a second, Jade imagined she’d had a childhood here, in this place, with a sister. They would have run through the sprinklers and got their clothes dirty, eaten mulberries and sold lemonade. They would have gone to the cinema on weekends and painted each other’s nails. They would have shared secrets instead of being the secrets themselves.

  Her eyes scanned the garden until she saw someone sitting, draped in a blanket, on a chair. She felt her chest tighten as she looked closer and saw that it was a small boy, his fingers clasped around a telescope pointed to the sky.

  She felt a pulse in her chest. She didn’t want to startle him, so she turned quietly to return to the front door.

  ‘Dad?’ he asked, sensing the movement behind him.

  ‘Hello,’ she said in a warm voice. ‘My name’s Jade.’

  He turned to face her. She saw now a boy with a bald head and skin so white it looked bleached. His eyes were sunken. His lips were cracked. The sight of the young child stripped of his innocence, so deathly pale, made Jade draw her breath as sadness enveloped her.

  ‘Are you my house nurse?’ he asked.

  ‘No.’ She smiled and then paused, choosing her next words carefully. ‘I’m a friend of your mother’s.’

  He looked at her curiously. His eyes were a piercing blue, a shade just like Asha’s eyes. He was frail and gaunt.

  ‘What’s your name?’ she asked.

  He touched his bald scalp self-consciously. ‘Matthew,’ he said.

  Matthew. The reason she had come all the way to the other side of her world. Seeing him, she knew instantly that she had made the right decision.

  ‘Is that a telescope?’ Jade asked.

  ‘I got it for my birthday,’ he said, turning his attention back to it. ‘Haven’t you ever seen one?’

  ‘I’ve never looked through one before,’ Jade said, and smiled.

  ‘Here, I’ll show you,’ he offered. He struggled to stand up and, when he did, he held his body unsteadily. He lifted the telescope so it was eye level with Jade. ‘You won’t see much more than clouds because it’s not dark yet,’ he explained, his breathing laboured. It seemed like he needed a lot of energy simply to talk. Jade peeked through and saw the clouds
shifting above them. ‘Can you see anything?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes, the clouds. They look like fairy floss.’

  He laughed. ‘They look just like clouds to me,’ he said.

  ‘When I was your age, my grandmother and I used to play a game where we’d describe the shapes the clouds made. Look again and tell me what you see now?’

  He peered through and thought for the moment. ‘A turtle over there. And a doughnut.’

  This time Jade laughed. She had taken an instant liking to Matthew. He had a soft and gentle nature, a kindness about him.

  ‘I see a man fishing, that’s his rod,’ she pointed to a line of cloud that looked like it was falling through the sky, ‘and a dragon up there.’

  ‘You’re fun,’ he said, smiling.

  ‘I used to play that game for hours. It’s a great way to pass the time on a long drive.’

  ‘If only there were windows in the treatment room,’ he said softly, looking away.

  Jade watched him, trying to take in the fact that he was her nephew. She wondered what he had looked like before the illness had ravaged his body. ‘What’s the view through the lens like at night?’ she asked, sensing his sadness and trying to keep him upbeat.

  ‘You can see the whole universe. All the stars, and some planets too.’ He smiled as if excited to show her. ‘If you stay for dinner, I can show you what it looks like at night. I know all the stars in our galaxy. I could teach you.’

  ‘I’d like that very much.’

  He looked into the telescope again. ‘Your accent is different,’ he observed.

  ‘I’m from Australia. That’s where I got you this from,’ she said as she handed over the gift and watched him unwrap it. He held the stone in his palm and smiled.

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘It’s a gemstone called moss agate. It means strength and courage. I can tell already that you have both of those.’

  ‘Thanks,’ Matthew said, though he seemed even more puzzled now by this stranger. ‘My mother went to Australia to find me special medicine to take my cancer away. But she didn’t find it. That’s why I need to have more treatment.’

  At that moment Jade felt someone watching her. She turned to see a woman standing inside the glass door staring out at them. She had her mother’s long hair, her swan neck, her piercing cheekbones, her penetrating gaze. At first Jade thought it was the light playing with her own reflection. But then the woman stepped outside and Jade knew it was her sister.

  Jade stood up and walked towards Courtney, smiling as if they were friends being reunited after years apart, not sisters seeing each other for the first time since finding out they were just that. Sisters. The word coiled around them like a blanket as Jade hugged her, her world spinning.

  ‘Matthew is a beautiful boy,’ Jade whispered.

  Courtney looked out into the garden at her son. ‘He’s the most precious thing in the whole world to me.’

  65

  DAVID’S parents had taken him for lunch. He wanted to stay home with Matthew but they insisted. Courtney had pushed him to go too, saying it would do him good to leave the house.

  So, here he was, at one of Miami’s finest waterfront restaurants. Of course, being his parents, they had to be extravagant even though a lunch out for him could happily have been a burger at the local diner. He ordered the most expensive thing on the menu: foie gras-stuffed quail with porcini, creamy mash and black olive sauce. Why not – they wanted to take him out.

  ‘Sweetheart,’ his mother said in her heavy New York accent, which seemed fitting for the venue, ‘I’m glad you’re eating. I need to fatten you up.’ She munched on onion rings while his father piled his plate with calamari. ‘You know, honey,’ she said licking her fingers, ‘your dad and I wanted to take you out for lunch to tell you how proud we are of you. You’re a very good father. We know how hard it’s been. There’s nothing worse in this world than what you and Courtney have gone through.’

  David cut into the tender thigh of the quail. ‘Thanks,’ he said, trying to keep his voice steady. ‘It’s been,’ he paused unable to find the words, ‘it’s been hell.’

  ‘Well, we don’t have to spend the rest of the lunch talking about it, because you need a break from it all,’ his dad said. ‘But we want you to know, you can talk to us any time. I know that you’re like me, son – we’re men of few words. But sometimes it helps to talk.’

  His mother wiped the edges of her lips on a napkin, leaving a bold red print. ‘And we’ve decided to extend our stay here indefinitely,’ Mandy added. ‘We’ve even been thinking that we might move here permanently, with the weather and all.’

  David knew they were lying. Moving here had nothing to do with the weather. They didn’t want to say it, but they were starting to think that there was a chance Matthew wasn’t going to make it. And they wanted David to know they would be there for him, always.

  ‘Thanks, but you don’t have to move here. We’ll be okay.’

  For the rest of the lunch, his parents tried to keep his mind off his situation by telling him stories of their colourful life in New York. David took in the feel of the sun warming his skin, the smell of seafood, the playful banter between his parents and the light sparkling on the ocean. When they drove home he felt a little lighter. They’d been right, he did need a break, even if it was only for a couple of hours.

  His parents followed him inside, but as David turned the key in his front door, he was surprised to hear the sound of laughter and a woman’s voice he didn’t recognise.

  He opened the door to see the back of a young woman with braided hair, sitting cross-legged on the floor with Matthew, playing Monopoly. The smell of food wafted from the kitchen.

  ‘Courtney?’ David called out uneasily. The woman turned to face him. She was striking, with tanned skin and green eyes. She looked youthful, maybe in her mid-twenties. He saw the resemblance at once in her smile and the sharpness of her cheekbones. She had the same almond-shaped eyes, the same full smile as his wife. ‘Jade?’ David said, surprised her name came to him so quickly.

  She stood up, dusted her denim shorts and shook his hand. ‘Hi,’ she said nervously. ‘It’s nice to finally meet you.’

  David could feel the gaze of his parents standing behind him. ‘Well, aren’t you going to introduce us?’ his mother said.

  Courtney stepped out of the kitchen wearing an apron. Her make-up was under her eyes as if she’d been crying, but there was a happy energy about her that he hadn’t seen for a long time.

  ‘This,’ she paused, taking a breath, ‘is my sister.’

  66

  HOW DO you catch up on a lifetime? Do you try to start at the beginning and work your way forward to the present, or do you share only a summary of the key moments? As Courtney stared across at Jade in a cafe in Coconut Grove, she didn’t know where to begin. It was surreal to be having breakfast with her half-sister, a woman whose life could have been intertwined with her own.

  ‘This is weird, isn’t it?’ Courtney said, with a soft smile. ‘I have twenty-six years of your life to catch up on!’

  Jade grinned, her pale-green eyes sparkling. ‘I know we can’t make up for all the time we’ve lost. But maybe we don’t need to look back to look forward. This is our beginning. We have the next twenty-six years–plus ahead of us to catch up.’

  Courtney smiled. She didn’t know anything about Jade but she knew she liked her. She had an easygoing personality and a well-meaning nature. There was a degree of vulnerability about her but also strength. She was the kind of person Courtney imagined was happy to slip into the background but would step up to the plate when she was needed.

  They had come to the cafe after Jade had her blood sample taken at the hospital. Courtney felt awash with relief knowing that she had done everything possible to find her son a match. Now there was little more she could do but wait.

  The hospital was going to rush Jade’s results through, hoping to get them back in a week. Belinda had warned Co
urtney not to get her hopes up. But desperation had made Courtney cling to hope like a life raft. She would be pushed and pulled under, threatened many times to topple over, but as long as she clung to it, no matter how weak her grasp, there was a chance.

  When their coffees came, Courtney scooped the froth out with a spoon and looked up, surprised to see Jade doing the same. ‘You don’t like the froth either?’

  Jade laughed. ‘I thought I was the only person in the world who did that. It’s the worst part.’

  Courtney couldn’t believe it. ‘David always tells me I’m crazy. That he doesn’t know why I order coffee at all.’

  ‘I get it all the time,’ Jade said, grinning as she took a sip. ‘Tell me you don’t also hate mushrooms.’

  Courtney nearly spat out her coffee. ‘Loathe them. I always pick them out of my food. And peanut butter.’

  ‘Me too!’

  They giggled together and Courtney wondered if there was something to be said about the intrinsic connection of sisters, even if they had lived their whole lives apart.

  ‘I always had a sense that something in my life was missing,’ Jade said, surprising Courtney with her openness. ‘I thought that it was because my mother was never around, and my father, in a way, wasn’t either. It was like a void, an empty space. Now I know. It was you.’

  ‘It’s so incomprehensible, isn’t it? So unfair that choices were made for us without us weighing in on them. Sometimes I wish I could wind back the clock, push my dad on another path. But then I wouldn’t be here. I wouldn’t be with David or have Matthew. I wouldn’t have this life.’

  ‘You were far better off without her,’ Jade said and looked away. Courtney could tell it was a subject she wasn’t quite ready to delve further into so neither of them mentioned Asha again.

  When the waiter brought their breakfast, the conversation eased and they talked about mundane things like the weather, cooking, the countryside, painting and travel. They spoke as if they didn’t have a lifetime to catch up on.