‘Tea, please,’ says Mum. ‘White and none, thanks. And Ava’s okay, I brought her a bottle of water.’
Water? No way. I’d like a hot chocolate, thanks. I squeeze Mum’s arm, but she prises off my fingers and helps me sit down.
‘Anything for you, Nicole?’ asks Jin-Soo.
Nic looks impressed and asks for a hot chocolate.
Bummer. Now I have to watch her drink it.
While we wait for Jin-Soo to fetch the drinks, Nic tries out the swivelling action of the chairs. They swing around so smoothly that she gets four spins with one push. She’s halfway through spin number five when the door reopens and Jin-Soo steps in with a tray. Nic quickly stops her chair, a nervous giggle on her lips. Jin-Soo places a tea in front of Mum, a coffee where she’s going to sit, and a delicious-looking hot chocolate in front of Nic. My mouth waters. There’s even marshmallows on top.
Don’t scream, don’t scream, don’t scream.
Luckily, Jin-Soo slides a plate of Iced VoVos in front of me. ‘No-one’s gluten intolerant, are they?’ she asks.
My stomach skips. I love Iced VoVos.
Mum shakes her head, but moves the plate slightly away in case I swipe the biscuits off it. She breaks one in half and pops some into my mouth. Delicious.
‘Now,’ says Jin-Soo, putting on her glasses, ‘I have all your forms here, so I know a bit about what’s going on. It sounds as if things have been pretty tough for you all lately. Perhaps, if you don’t mind, we might start with a few questions?’
Jin-Soo looks from Mum to Nic to me. If I could speak I’d say, ‘Sure, Jin-Soo. Questions are fine. But just so you know, it has been tough. For Nic, for Mum and for Dad. But mostly for me. So can we just cut to the chase? Is there anything you can do to help me speak? Because there are a few things I need to say.’
But of course I can’t say that. So while Mum feeds me another biscuit, Jin-Soo focuses her brown eyes on Nic.
‘So, Nicole, I see here that you’re fourteen and you play the drums? Fantastic! How do you feel having a sister with a disability?’
Boom. Straight into it!
Nic squirms in her seat. She tries to hide behind her hot chocolate, but a ceramic mug can hardly hide an entire teenager, even one who’s practised at being invisible. Besides, Jin-Soo’s gaze is too intense. Nic glances at Mum for support, but Mum’s wiping coconut flakes off my chin as I gulp down my biscuit. ‘Slowly, Ava, slowly,’ Mum reminds me.
‘I’m not fourteen till November.’
‘Okay, yes, sorry.’
‘Answer the question, Nic,’ whispers Mum.
‘Well, I, um …’ Nic pushes a hand nervously against the desk, which makes her chair swivel, and she nearly spills her hot chocolate. She steadies the chair and stares into her cup. ‘Well … I … I don’t know,’ she stammers.
Jin-Soo nudges her glasses further up her nose and smiles kindly at Nic. ‘It’s uncomfortable, isn’t it? People stare; they judge. You might even feel like it’s your fault. Or worry that people think you’re disabled too. Would I be right?’
Yes, people stare. A lot.
Nic gazes at her drink. Jin-Soo waits until Nic nods.
‘So, say I had a magic wand. What would you wish for? A bigger house? More friends?’
Clap, squish, clench.
I know what I’d wish for. I’d wish that I could talk. That Dad was fixed, Mum was happy, and Nic would love having me as her sister. But mostly that I could talk.
Jin-Soo better have a gigantic magic wand.
‘Maybe you’d wish I’d send your sister away? So that she wouldn’t bother you anymore?’
What?
Nic looks up sharply. She stares at Jin-Soo; her eyes narrow. ‘What do you mean?’ she blurts. ‘Send her away?’ Her jaw is tight as she finally lowers her eyes. ‘What the hell? Seriously.’
‘Nic!’ whispers Mum.
‘No, Mum! Ava isn’t dry cleaning.’
‘So, you love your sister, I gather?’ asks Jin-Soo.
I freeze. My hands clench so tightly all my knuckles ache. Do you love me, Nic?
Nic drops her head. But not before I see tears welling in her eyes.
My heart soars. She does? Nic loves me? I’m not just a pain – a failure as a sister?
Jin-Soo makes a note in her file. ‘And if I had a magic wand?’
‘For me, or for her?’
‘Well, whatever you like. Anything? What would you wish for?’
When Nic answers, it’s barely a mumble. ‘Well, for one, I’d stop Ava screaming. Then people wouldn’t stare all the time.’
Jin-Soo nods. ‘Fair enough. I’m sure Ava wouldn’t mind that either. No-one likes being stared at. And what about something for you? What would you wish for yourself?’
My clasping hands finally relax. Just a little. Not enough to stop them clenching, but enough to ease my aching knuckles.
‘Why don’t you ask Mum?’
Mum’s teacup clatters against her saucer.
Jin-Soo makes a note. ‘And why’s that, Nicole?’
Nic looks at her hands and talks so softly I can hardly hear her. ‘Mum’s always worrying about Dad or Ava. She doesn’t have time for me. She never wants to do anything fun – she’s always too busy. It’s like she’s obsessed. Maybe she’d wish you’d send me away.’
No, Nic. It’s bad enough with Dad not here. Not you too.
Mum opens her mouth, but Jin-Soo softly shakes her head. ‘Thank you, Nicole. That was very brave. What about you, Mrs Mills? What makes Ava’s behaviour difficult for you?’
‘You can call me Deb,’ says Mum, tearing her gaze from Nic. ‘And I think for me it’s not being able to understand. I never know why Ava pinches and bites and screams. One minute she’s fine and then the next minute …’ Mum holds up her arm, showing the red welt where I pinched her just before.
‘Ouch,’ murmurs Jin-Soo. ‘But you know what they say: sometimes the kids who need the most love ask for it in the most unloving ways.’
I don’t mean to pinch. It’s just … sometimes I get so frustrated. I do love you, Mum.
‘I feel so helpless,’ says Mum. ‘And guilty. Like I should know my own daughter better.’ She glances over at Nic. ‘Like I should know both my daughters better.’
There’s silence for a second, except for my squishing hands. No-one’s looking at anyone, and the hot drinks are getting cold.
‘Yes, I understand,’ says Jin-Soo, eventually. ‘It’s difficult juggling it all. I read this great quote the other day. It said something like: “Having kids is like having a blender you don’t have a lid for.” You can’t possibly control what happens. It sounds like you might be judging yourself too harshly, Deb? There’s no such thing as perfect.’
Mum laughs an embarrased laugh while Jin-Soo takes a sip of her coffee. ‘So, how’s Mr Mills?’ asks Jin-Soo. ‘I’m guessing you’re busy with him in hospital?’
Mum nods. ‘Yes. My work’s on hold until he gets home. And maybe while he gets back on his feet.’
‘I see.’ Jin-Soo writes a short note. ‘And when is that likely?’
Yes, when is that likely?
Mum says something about soon, and my eyes widen. Soon? Like next week? Or tomorrow? Can’t wait to see you, Dad.
Jin-Soo gives Mum a sympathetic look. ‘I’d say that’s why you like routine. When you feel in control, it’s the only way you can manage these difficult situations. So if I had a magic wand and I could grant you anything, anything at all that would make your life better, what would it be?’
Mum hesitates and looks first at Nic, and then at me.
I hold my breath. A plane ticket? To run away with Norah Jones? To a mountaintop, where no-one screams or bites?
‘All I want is for my girls to be happy. If I could know that Ava is okay, I wouldn’t feel so
bad when she screams. I’d know, underneath, she’s fine. And Nic. Well, I guess I just want her to know I love her. Even when I’m busy caring for Ross and for Ava, I …’
Nic raises her head just enough for us to see her eyes below her curls. For one split second, she looks at Mum, and Mum looks at her.
‘Okay,’ says Jin-Soo. ‘Well done. I know that was hard. You’ve mentioned here that you’ve already called Disability Services and didn’t get very far, but can I urge you to try again? Sometimes it’s a case of the squeaky wheel getting the oil. I could write you a letter of support if you like?’
Mum smiles through her tears, and Jin-Soo turns her attention to me. ‘Now, Ava, I know you can’t tell me, but I’m thinking you’d also like a magic wand. What would you like to change if you had the chance?’
She looks kindly at me, and I stare straight back. I try to make my eyes say, ‘I want to speak. To say, “I love you, Mum. I love you, Nic.”’
Jin-Soo smiles politely, and even though it’s a real smile, she doesn’t know what I’ve said.
‘Can you blink, Ava?’ she asks. ‘Once for yes and twice for no?’
Nic sighs and Mum holds her breath. We’ve tried blinking before. I can blink, sometimes, but like pointing my finger and walking on my wobbly legs, my brain doesn’t always send messages when they’re needed.
‘How about you blink once if you’d like another biscuit?’ Jin-Soo suggests.
Nic fidgets in her swivel chair. I stare at Jin-Soo, willing my eyelids to blink. But all that happens is my eyes water, and the biscuits stay where they are.
Jin-Soo smiles. ‘Good try, Ava. Why don’t you take the rest of the Iced VoVos with you?’ she says before pulling a typed sheet from her notes. ‘Now, here are some suggestions for you to try before our next appointment.’ She hands the list to Mum before running through its contents – being kind, living in the moment, that sort of thing – most of which make Nic’s eyes roll, but Jin-Soo insists that we give them a shot. Then she asks if we have any questions.
‘Can we go?’ mutters Nic.
‘Will these really work?’ asks Mum.
‘They’ve helped other clients before,’ says Jin-Soo. ‘So, if you’re happy with all that, why don’t you and I go fix up the bill, Deb, while Nic finishes her drink? We can come back and get the girls in a sec.’
After Mum and Jin-Soo leave the room and shut the door, Nic takes a last slurp of her hot chocolate. The slurp makes a farting noise from the foam at the bottom, and it echoes through the big room.
Nic puts the cup down, her face pink.
I laugh.
Then Nic’s laughing, too.
We’re still laughing when Mum and Jin-Soo come back.
Mum smiles.
Maybe we don’t need that magic wand after all?
‘Okay, girls.’ Mum’s all fired up after our appointment with Jin-Soo. ‘No time like the present.’
We’re sitting in the car park of the behaviour clinic, but Mum hasn’t started the engine. She’s pulled out Jin-Soo’s list from her handbag and is running her finger over the options. Nic, all buckled up and ready to go, frowns from behind her curls.
‘I vote for starting with number one and working our way down the list,’ says Mum. ‘Number one: spend more quality time together.’ She looks up and rests her gaze on Nic. ‘Come on. Why don’t we take Ava out for lunch?’
Nic sighs, but Mum nods, so we drive to the shopping centre near our house.
‘No, not here!’ says Nic, scooching down in her seat.
It’s one of the places Nic and her friends hang out.
‘No excuses. We’re going to do what Jin-Soo says,’ states Mum. She unloads my wheelchair from the boot before opening my door. Leaning across to undo my seat belt, she shoots a look at Nic, who hasn’t moved from the front seat. ‘Don’t you want something to eat?’
‘No thanks,’ moans Nic.
‘We’ll get everything in takeaway containers so we can leave in a hurry if we need to.’
And if I throw anything, it won’t break.
Nic sighs and snaps off her belt. ‘Fine,’ she says. ‘But don’t ask me to enjoy it.’
One time, when Nic was ten, we went to the mall and I screamed so much that centre management asked us to leave, saying we were being too disruptive.
Nic’s refused to come shopping with me since.
I won’t scream today, Nic. I promise.
‘Here.’ Mum pushes some money into Nic’s hand. ‘You go order. Ava and I will find a seat.’ She wheels me over to a table out of the way, in case I try to grab something I shouldn’t.
Don’t scream, don’t scream, don’t scream.
‘Well, this is nice, isn’t it?’ Mum says while we wait for Nic. ‘Been ages since we all did this.’
I take a deep breath and sit as straight as I can in my chair.
Don’t scream, don’t scream, don’t scream.
It’s wonderful to see Mum smile.
Don’t scream, don’t scream, don’t scream.
The shopping centre echoes with voices. The lights buzz. The flower stand in front of Woolies smells of ageing, sagging lilies.
Don’t scream, don’t scream, don’t scream.
Nic comes back with the number 14 on a metal stick, and we sit like an ordinary family.
For three whole minutes.
‘Can I borrow your credit card?’ asks Nic.
Mum’s eyebrows arch.
‘I’ll give it back, I just …’
‘Nic, really? Right now? What’s so important that …’ Mum sighs. ‘Sweetheart, we’re supposed to be tackling our list.’
I didn’t realise Jin-Soo’s list was made for tackling. I thought it was more for enjoying.
‘It is for the list.’ Nic glances over at the nearby Woolies, like she’s hatching a secret plan. Is she going to buy pasta to cook Mum and me a meal?
Mum must be wondering the same thing because, with a stern warning for Nic to be sensible, she hands over her card.
‘Okay, thanks,’ says Nic. ‘Back in a sec.’
Mum shrugs as we lose sight of Nic through the crowd and offers me a bite of a leftover Iced VoVo. I open my mouth, but can’t swallow. My saliva has dried up. The two-dollar Thomas the Tank Engine ride keeps tinkling its bell. My nose itches from the smell of roasting coffee.
‘Come on, just a little bite. There’s a girl.’
I’m trying one more time to swallow my bite of biscuit, when Nic reappears. ‘For you,’ she says, handing Mum a beautiful bunch of tulips. ‘From me and Ava. Just a little something to say thank you, for everything.’
Mum gasps. I start to smile, but instead I cough. The Iced VoVo is stuck. I can’t swallow. My throat is closing.
‘It’s okay, Ava,’ Mum’s saying. ‘Stay calm. Just swallow.’
Meanwhile, Nic’s pushing the flowers into Mum’s hands and saying, ‘Jin-Soo said we should do nice things for each other, you know, like small acts of kindness. And I thought, since I’ve been so, you know, well …’
I can’t breathe. My head feels like I’m swimming under water. Spots start appearing before my eyes.
‘Anyway, I saw the tulips over there and …’
Thump! Mum’s whacking me on the back, trying to open my airways. The flowers have been dumped onto the floor, and she’s taking hold of my shoulders and talking to my face. ‘Breathe, Ava, breathe! There’s my girl.’
The biscuit goes down the way it should and I finally take a big gulp of air. Mum gives me a drink of cold water. But Nic’s staring at the crushed flowers on the ground, her face as hard as cement.
My eyes well. I didn’t mean to choke.
We sit in silence while we wait for our lunch. So much for quality time. Nic’s doing anything but look at Mum. Instead, she’s eyeballing the food court,
checking out who’s coming and going, hoping we don’t see anyone we know.
‘Crap!’ she says, suddenly dipping her head.
Mum swivels around in her seat. ‘What?’
‘Mum! Don’t stare. I think it’s the student guy from the hospital.’
Nic couldn’t sink any further into her chair.
‘Sit up straight, Nicole,’ says Mum.
Nic shakes her head, trying to act invisible. ‘Can we go?’ she asks.
Mum frowns. ‘But we haven’t got our food yet.’
Nic pulls out her phone and quickly taps on the screen, pretending to be super busy.
‘Oh, Nic, come on. Put that away.’
A familiar face sidles up to our table. ‘Hey. Mrs Mills, isn’t it? How’s it going?’
Mum looks up, her face brightening. ‘Oh, hi. Sorry, I’ve forgotten your name.’
‘Kieran,’ says the young man.
‘Oh, yes, of course! Kieran, you remember my daughter Ava? And my eldest, Nic? Lovely to see you again. What are you up to?’
Kieran says hi to me then nods quickly at Nic’s scowly face. He’s not wearing his university polo shirt and black slacks, and looks extra skinny in his faded, ripped jeans. ‘Basically wasting time,’ he says. ‘I just checked out another rental.’
‘Oh? Any luck?’
Kieran shakes his head.
‘Because of your dog?’ Mum asks.
Banjo.
‘Yeah. The ad said dogs were allowed, but when I got there they said only lap dogs. You know, like Chihuahuas or Shih Tzus.’ He sighs. ‘Oh well. I’ll keep looking, I guess.’
He’s interrupted by the arrival of our drinks. He watches Mum fuss over me, moving the tub of sugar sachets out of swiping range.
‘Here, let me help.’ Kieran takes my milkshake and squats beside me. He holds my straw to my lips, without Mum telling him to, and makes sure I can suck on it. I guess they must teach him and the other students how to help people who have trouble, like me.
‘Thanks,’ says Mum, checking that I’m getting the shake up through the straw.
‘No biggie, Mrs Mills. That nice, Ava? Yeah, awesome. Slurp it up.’
Nic watches while pretending not to, silently sipping her lemonade.
Everything I've Never Said Page 8
