by Anita Heiss
‘Excuse me,’ Ellen said, unable to sit any longer without responding to her fella.
‘Everything all right?’ Izzy asked, hoping that it wasn’t another death back in Mudgee.
‘Oh, no, it’s all good.’ Ellen smiled a silly, infatuated-school-girl smile. ‘It’s just Craig.’ She kept tapping the keys, wanting to keep the dialogue going with him even though she knew she should’ve been focusing on her tiddas.
‘This sounds like it might be getting serious,’ Xanthe said, happy that her friend might finally be settling down with one fella and not having one a week.
‘I don’t know about serious.’ Ellen wasn’t going to admit too much too soon. She was the last woman to succumb to heartache at the hands of a man. She was the strong one, the least needy one, the most emotionally-in-control one. Or so she thought.
‘It’s just that . . .’ she stopped herself, not quite sure what she even wanted to say.
‘What?’ Veronica asked. ‘Are you falling in love?’
‘God no! Me? In love? Me and love are not a likely fit.’ Ellen was going to resist that emotion, even if it was just verbally. ‘But I do think about him, a lot.’ She put the phone down on the coffee table.
The girls all smiled, wanting to bask in the glow of infatuation that their tidda was radiating across the room.
‘Well?’ Izzy asked. ‘What’s happened so far? And I don’t mean sex; we know you’ve got that sorted.’
‘He makes me laugh. We laugh a lot, about nothing special, stupid things, him. He talks about himself a lot and that makes me laugh, and so I guess he plays on that.’
‘Where’s he taken you, for dinner or whatever?’ Veronica asked.
‘We don’t really go out that much. I’m keen to stay in and enjoy my apartment.’ This was only partially true. Ellen did want to make the most of her mortgage payments, but she wouldn’t have said no to the occasional dinner or a movie.
‘The problem is, I haven’t had a boyfriend in so long, and I am so used to being alone and doing things when I want to, how I want to, wherever I want to, without having to ask anyone else, or consider or please anyone else, that to have another person in my life so much is weird all of a sudden, which you all probably think is weird of me.’ Ellen couldn’t believe she’d said it all in one breath and that she could finally articulate what had been spinning around in her head for weeks.
‘No, not at all,’ Izzy said. ‘I’m the same with Asher. It’s a challenge and a surprise every day though.’ And a lot of adjustments, Izzy thought. After decades of living alone it hadn’t been easy to accommodate Asher into her life and apartment full-time, but she was trying.
‘Do you want a boyfriend?’ Veronica asked.
‘Do you want Craig as a boyfriend, more to the point?’ Xanthe went further.
‘I don’t know, all I know is that he is in my head constantly. I wake up and he is in my thoughts. He’s the last thing on my mind when I go to sleep. I see things in the shops and I want to buy them for him. I sit on the ferry and wish he was there with me. And the chemistry is so intense between us that I can almost come just thinking about him. I think I’m going insane. There’s something wrong with me.’
Izzy chuckled.
‘What?’ Ellen asked accusingly.
‘You’re not insane, Ellen,’ Veronica said.
‘You are in love!’ Xanthe declared.
‘Fuck! No, I don’t want to be in love, love equals pain. Love means heartache. Love, schmove, it’s not love, it’s lust!’ Ellen was not going to be cornered into feeling something she was sure she didn’t.
Her tiddas laughed harder.
‘Oh no, please don’t tell me I’m in love. I can’t work with that.’ Ellen appeared genuinely distraught. ‘What should I do?’ she pleaded.
‘Tell him!’ Xanthe ordered, exasperated.
‘Tell him what?’ Ellen frowned.
‘Tell him how you feeeel!’ Xanthe crooned.
The tiddas all nodded.
14
JACARANDA SEASON
Along the river at West End the jacarandas were in full bloom. Izzy felt calmed by the blanket of deep mauve and the scent of the Brazilian import, and just wanted to lie underneath one and sleep. The sun was rising by 5.30 a.m. each day but she wasn’t. Whenever she could, she’d walk in the afternoons before sunset but that was rare these days. The humidity was already peaking at ninety per cent and it was knocking her around like never before. Even though the nights dropped to a comfortable seventeen degrees, day temperatures were in the mid-twenties and the October heat was living up to its reputation.
Izzy sat still, breathing deeply, attempting to meditate, even though she had never really been able to stop her mind ticking over about work. But it was the bumping and squirming she could feel in her belly that consumed her thoughts now. She was waiting to experience the Braxton Hicks contractions that everyone had been telling her about.
‘Is he related to David Hicks?’ Asher had joked one night.
And while Izzy was glad that he wasn’t getting as nervous as she was about the impending birth, she wished he didn’t try to make everything into a joke.
The next big decision was whether or not they’d circumcise if the baby was a boy.
‘Shouldn’t he look like me?’ Asher had asked, genuinely believing it was the right thing to do. He’d been circumcised, his brothers and his father too, he assumed. He wasn’t a sporting bloke so had no stories about locker-room looks.
They still hadn’t reached an agreement on what they’d do. Izzy didn’t want to ask the girls about circumcision because she was frightened it would start another emotional scene when they were still dealing with Nadine’s dramas. She made a mental note to herself (one she knew she’d have to write down because of her ‘mummy brain’) that she needed to have a serious conversation with the doctor when she saw him about her heartburn, which was still causing her discomfort.
Her ankles were swollen and she was wearing a form-fitting jersey dress that hugged her waistline just a little more than she wanted. She was trying to keep as much to routine as possible in terms of her working day, given that Asher had moved in and home life was changing as dramatically as her body. At thirty-two weeks she already felt like she was going to burst. She couldn’t believe she had another eight weeks to go.
Think nice thoughts, she told herself and pulled out her phone to take a photo of the row of jacarandas. She made it her screensaver, smiling while she looked at the colour that gave Orleigh Park personality. For some reason, one tree reminded her of those in her mother’s backyard back in Mudgee. She looked forward to taking her own child there one day to play under the trees with his or her cousins. She texted the photo to her tiddas saying:
Having a Mudgee moment, see you tonight. X
Nadine texted back a simple X. Izzy hadn’t seen or heard from her since her appalling scene at the Gunshop Café on the night of her book launch. Nadine might be drowning in her own guilt but no-one realised, so Izzy was glad for any communication from her sister-in-law right now.
Ellen texted back a photo taken from her balcony of the river with a smiley face. Veronica sent a photo of all the boxes she was packing. Xanthe didn’t respond at all. Izzy assumed she was on a plane or in training, but knew she’d be seeing her tidda that night anyway for book club.
At 7 p.m. the tiddas – once again minus Nadine – arrived at Ellen’s in Kangaroo Point for what Izzy thought was book club. She’d read the nominated book and had started making her own list of the one hundred loves in her life: the jacarandas, morning walks on the river, Asher’s cooking, being pregnant. She was looking forward to hearing what the others would have on their lists. It would undoubtedly be a fun night, with a lot of laughs. So she was surprised when she arrived at Ellen’s to find there was no book club discussion planned at all. The small apartment had been decorated for a baby shower. Izzy burst into tears at the thoughtfulness of her tiddas, at their generosity, at the realisati
on that this baby thing was actually happening.
‘Oh God, don’t cry! This was supposed to be a happy night,’ Ellen said, putting her arms around her tidda. Stepping back, she eyed Izzy up and down. ‘You look amazing,’ she said, desperately wanting to touch Izzy’s belly but aware of how much mothers-to-be hated it. ‘I can’t believe how much you’ve grown since the last time I saw you.’
‘I’m huge, I know, and my face is so puffy.’ She wiped the tears from her cheek with her hands. ‘I’m still working on camera till I finish up next month, and I hate it! I can’t watch myself; it’s like looking at another person.’
‘Stop it!’ Xanthe said. ‘You look like a healthy pregnant woman, so stop obsessing about how you look. You’re glowing.’
Izzy had been brought back into line.
‘How are you feeling?’ Veronica asked.
‘A lot of heartburn, and backache sometimes, but I think that’s from being on my feet constantly with this extra weight.’ She looked at Xanthe. ‘I’m not complaining, just stating the facts. But when did you have time to pull all this together, Ellen?’ she asked, looking at the white balloons, the pink and blue iced cupcakes and other treats laid out on the small kitchen table.
‘Oh, between services and shagging, I can manage to get a lot done. I made these myself.’ Ellen was proud of her new sense of domesticity, inspired of late by doing some cooking for Craig. She was completely besotted but hadn’t told him. And wasn’t even sure that she should. Things were going along just right, or so she tried to convince herself.
‘You’re still seeing that rugby player then? That’s got to be a record length of time,’ Xanthe said.
Ellen wasn’t sure if Xanthe was having a dig, or just making an observation; it was a record length of time for her. It was three months now, and by Ellen’s standards that constituted something serious, something meaningful, something possibly beginning with the letter ‘L’.
‘Are you in, please correct me if I am wrong . . .’ Izzy smiled, ‘a relationship?’
Ellen blushed. She wasn’t sure if she was at all, but for the first time in a long time, she felt good about being with Craig. But she still kept her cards close to her chest, even with the girls.
‘Oh, I don’t know. I really, really like him.’
‘And?’ Veronica asked.
‘He’s already said he doesn’t want a relationship. He wants to be single,’ Ellen said matter-of-factly.
‘To play the field?’ Xanthe asked.
‘I guess so. He’s hot. He’s young. I can understand he wants to have fun, and can.’
‘So you haven’t told him then, have you?’ Xanthe asked, shaking her head.
‘No.’ Ellen felt like she was being chastised for not doing her homework.
‘How do you feel if he’s dating other women?’ Veronica asked.
‘It never bothered me when we first met. I was happy for a good time too, but . . .’ Ellen winced.
‘But what?’ Izzy asked.
‘But now, I get a little jealous, and I hate it.’ She shook her head, almost disappointed in herself. ‘I don’t want him seeing other women. I want him to myself.’
‘Thank God, at last you’ve seen the light,’ Xanthe said. ‘You see what it means to have someone special to you, not just someone to play with.’
‘I’m not you, Xanthe, and he’s certainly not Spencer by any stretch of the imagination.’ Ellen recognised that what her tidda and her husband had was something more than significant. ‘You and Spencer, you’re extraordinary as relationships go, I know that. Even though I’m not always kind about him, I know how much he loves you, and how much you love each other. I’m nowhere near that with Craig; I just don’t want him fucking other women, that’s all.’
Xanthe didn’t respond, but retreated into herself. She hadn’t told her friends that she and Spencer had been struggling lately. That the pressure to have a baby had taken its toll on their relationship. That her husband had become a recluse in his own home, keeping to himself in recent weeks. They hadn’t made love for ten days, and while he was away for work, she was almost glad to be in a house free of tension.
‘Well I’m glad you cleared that up,’ Izzy laughed. ‘But watch out, look what happened to Asher and me.’ Izzy patted her belly with both hands.
‘Well, you know I won’t be having a baby. I did clarify that a few months ago, didn’t I?’ Ellen was still comfortable with her decision to get her tubes tied, even if Xanthe never came to terms with it.
‘But you my dear friend, you are going to be a deadly mum, and we deadly aunties-to-be are going to be there too.’ Ellen handed Izzy a glossy white bag with silver ribbon cascading down the side. ‘We decided this month’s book club would really be a baby book club night and we’re all giving the bub a book.’ Ellen looked to Xanthe and Veronica for agreement and they both smiled. ‘So we will be available for babysitting and storytelling services when you need us.’
Izzy opened the gifts: the Deadly Reads series from Xanthe and Spencer, the The Very Hungry Caterpillar with Wiradjuri translation from Ellen, and Jalygurr Aussie Animal Rhymes from Veronica.
‘And this is from Nadine.’ Ellen presented a large, gift-wrapped box to Izzy. ‘Richard dropped it over earlier.’
‘Really?’ Izzy was taken by complete surprise. ‘He called me to say she wasn’t feeling well and wouldn’t be here but didn’t mention this.’ Izzy looked at the box resting on her lap.
‘That’s not all, there’s a bloody stroller hidden in the bedroom,’ Ellen said, knowing there was no room to roll it out while all the women were there. ‘But that’s Nadine. Nothing by halves, eh?’
No-one responded to Ellen’s comment but they were all curious to see what Nadine had sent.
‘Open the box,’ Veronica said. ‘It’s a lovely thought that she went to the trouble to get you something.’
Izzy knew that Nadine would probably have just ordered something online, to be gift-wrapped in the warehouse and delivered to their post office box. So, she was surprised when she opened the box to find a picture book about two young Kooris boys and some Australian sugar bees. A handwritten card read:
Dear Izzy –
I’m so sorry. I know you’re at Ellen’s now, and I know I couldn’t be there unless I had fixed my mistakes. I really want to do that. I miss you all so much. Can you please ask Vee, Xanthe and Ellen if they will come to dinner next week? I need to talk to you all. Please, I need your help. Love, Nadine xoxo
Izzy was bawling by the time she finished reading the card to herself.
‘What’s wrong?’ Xanthe asked, herself in tears at seeing her friend’s distress.
Izzy read the card out and they all ended up in tears.
‘We have to go,’ Veronica said.
‘Of course,’ Xanthe added.
‘I miss her too, can you believe that?’ Ellen smiled as she wiped tears from her eyes.
Tea-lights lined the windowsill overlooking the river. The Powerhouse was alive with Friday night thank-God-it’s-the-weekend energy. It was bustling and jovial, a carnival-like atmosphere, except at one table in the dimly lit Alto restaurant where the five tiddas sat in near silence.
It was the first time they’d been together for almost two months, since Nadine’s abusive outburst in West End. The women attempted small talk but with no real uptake of anything. Veronica commented that a local radio broadcaster was at a table nearby, and the women all looked in his direction. Izzy noticed the CEO of an Aboriginal organisation was having dinner with someone else’s wife, and they all discreetly checked them out too. Ellen mentioned the comedy festival program, and Izzy commented on a baby being nursed at another table and said that she’d never do it in public. Xanthe was impressed with the mother’s capacity to feed herself and her child at the same time.
‘I wonder what David Koch would think about that,’ she said, nodding in the woman’s direction.
The chefs were focusing on their work, the waitstaff f
litted around the restaurant taking orders and delivering meals, and the tiddas read their menus, waiting for some direction from their hostess.
‘It’s hard to believe that a building that once housed all the means to power the entire Brisbane tramway system now has theatre, bars and nice restaurants.’ To everyone’s relief, Veronica was trying to engage them all in conversation.
Nadine used the opportunity to speak, even though there was no natural segue. She took a deep breath. ‘I’m sorry about everything – my behaviour, what I said to you, Xanthe, is unforgiveable.’
‘It’s okay, Nadine, it was partly true. I do run off a lot, and it must be annoying.’
‘No, you’re trying to have a baby; you have to do what you have to do. And the way I said it, I’m sure I was vile. Please forgive me.’ Nadine was contrite, sincere.
Xanthe smiled warmly, a lump in her throat.
‘And Veronica, my friend, your new style is enviable, really. You look fabulous. I could do with some help with my own image. God knows, it’s getting tired. And you’ve inspired me.’ Her words were genuine and touched her friend’s heart.
‘Really?’ Veronica couldn’t recall ever inspiring anyone.
‘Yes, that’s why I’m going shopping this weekend, new wardrobe, new look and hopefully new me.’
Ellen was tempted to say something, but wasn’t sure a wisecrack would go down well at the moment, even with the kinder Nadine at the table.
Nadine knew her friend well enough to know Ellen would be biting her lip. ‘You know I love you, Ellen, don’t you?’
Ellen nodded.
‘I mean, you give as good as you get most of the time, but I know I totally overstepped the mark last time. I promise I won’t do it again.’
While everyone wanted to believe that was the truth, they were all privately sceptical. Still, Ellen believed her tidda meant it. ‘That’s good enough for me. I’ve missed our little to-ing and fro-ing.’
Nadine sighed with relief, knowing she’d received some forgiveness, but she was really worried about her sister-in-law.
