‘You look like a wreck, sis. What did you get up to last night?’
‘Thanks, Jake. I see you’re back to normal.’ Sid dumped her bag on the chair and walked over to the window in Jake’s hospital room that overlooked scrubland and a small mob of wallabies grazing on a grassy corridor. One animal was close enough for Sid to make out a joey in her pouch, its stick-skinny legs jutting out at odd angles. Mama wallaby was not eating, instead standing tall, ears pricked, alert to predators that might want to harm her baby. Most of the mob seemed oblivious and happily grazing, stopping frequently to scratch with their little arms, while others lazed on their sides, propped on one elbow. ‘I hear all your test results are good and you’re in the clear. Just bruising and the leg wound to be dressed every couple of days. I’m glad.’
‘Could’ve been a lot worse than twenty stitches. I’ll be glad to get out of here and into a comfy bed.’
‘I was up late tweaking a design job and keeping clients happy. So glad I packed the Mac.’
‘Do you reckon I can borrow your laptop when I get out of here, sis?’
‘Maybe. Why?’
‘I want to google some stuff.’
‘You? Google?’ Sid could see a faint reflection of her face staring back from the window. She was smiling, both at her brother and the joey that was now hanging half in and half out of the pouch, desperate to reach the grass. Instinctively, Sidney placed a hand on her belly, her long sigh fogging the window and blurring the view. ‘Google what, Jake? Tell me and I can find what you need.’ She peeled her jacket off and draped it over the foot of the hospital bed.
‘No, thanks. I’m keen to do it myself. I’d use my phone but you know I’m all thumbs.’ He turned his palms up towards her. Her brother’s hands were big, manly, caring–just like Jake.
‘You were on my computer the other night! I knew it. What were you looking up? Were you downloading? Did you–?’
‘Yeah, yeah, okay, guilty as charged, your honour. Not sure the matter requires cross-examination.’
‘You do know I can check the browser history and, Jake, if you’ve been downloading porn, or–’
‘Whoa, there, sis! Since when have I been into that stuff? Like never.’ Jake grunted, folding his arms across his broad chest, then wincing in pain. ‘I’m sorry. I touched the golden Apple. I do beg your pardon. Sheesh! I can tell you’ve got your Mum mood on today. All I wanted to do was check out this albinism thing Pearl has.’
So, Jake had wanted to understand. Sid bit back the urge to grin. She never saw her young brother as the type to want to understand anything–especially a female. To him a woman–any woman–was something you picked up on a Friday night and bonked any-bloody-where half comfortable in the hope he’d make a good enough impression to get a second shot. Pearl was definitely different to Jake’s usual pub pick-up and Sid guessed he didn’t want to stuff things up, or turn her off him by asking dumb questions.
‘That’s really sweet, Jake.’
‘Yeah, well, if you check out that browser history of yours you’ll see the first thing I tried searching was the word albino. That mostly resulted in baby rhino and hippo stories.’
‘Oh Jake!’ There was no more holding back her laugh.
‘That’s when I discovered the correct term is people with albinism. Then the battery died. Speaking of dying . . . Have you and Mum killed each other yet?’
‘She’s settled in a motel room, but only for one night.’ Sidney shoved her coat over to perch on the edge of the bed. She went on to explain about the car rally, her brother’s ears pricking up at the thought of throbbing exhausts beating an exhilarating pace through the mountains above Coffs Harbour. ‘Forget it, Jake. You’ve had all the excitement on wheels you’re having this trip. I’m glad we’ll be tucked away in Watercolour Cove for the duration. Mum will be, too, I’m sure. When I tell her.’
‘What’s going on with you two?’
‘What do you mean?’ Sid deliberately focused on a pulled thread in the hospital blanket, picking at it.
‘Sid, I might not be the smart one in the family, but I can see and I can hear and I sure heard you and Mum going at it one time I dropped by to do my laundry. It wasn’t just one of your regular fights. And that was before you found the letter. So, what gives?’
Sid let out an exasperated sigh. ‘Jake, Mum and I seem to be going from bad to worse. Everything I do seems . . . I don’t know.’ Sid gestured towards the window. ‘You see that wallaby? The one with the pouch?’
‘Is this story going to take long?’
Sid ignored the jibe. ‘I’m pregnant.’
‘Yeah, I already figured that out, remember? You having second thoughts?’
‘No, but . . .’ Sid was still staring at the wallaby and her baby. ‘That’s going to be me soon.’
‘I assume when you say that’s going to be you, you’re not telling me you’re having a joey, because that would be kind of hard to explain to my mates.’
‘I mean, soon a little life will need protecting. It will be depending on me for everything.’
‘You’ll be great.’
‘I’ll be on my own.’
‘You’ll never get back together with Damo?’
‘Never. Me wanting to keep the baby is what ended us.’
‘What?’ Jake winced again. ‘Stupid dumb arse, that Damo.’ He put a hand on top of Sid’s and squeezed. ‘Real sorry, sis. His loss, I say. Personally, I never liked the bloke. You were too good for him.’
‘Aw, Jake.’ Sid surprised herself by bursting into tears.
As a family they were not overly demonstrative. They loved each other, Sid knew without any doubt, but showing weakness by crying, or even accepting sympathy, was something none of them did well, or easily. Not even at their father’s funeral had they shared their grief and let their tears fall freely. If Natalie had got a say, there wouldn’t have been any service for their dad at all, but his boss, Leo Pelakanigos, had insisted. Matthew’s colleagues had come from as far away as Western Australia to pay their respects. Strangers sadly outnumbering family, Sid remembered thinking at the time.
‘Hey, sis, come on.’ Jake shoved a hospital-issue tissue at her from the box on the side table. ‘What’s up?’
‘I’ve been thinking about Dad and how he missed out on being a grandfather. You and I missed out on knowing our grandfather and Little Bump won’t know a grandfather either.’
‘Well, you’ve got me instead. I’ll make up for Dad not being around. I’ll be the best bloody uncle ever. Footy, skateboarding, surfing, you name it. I’m there for the kid.’
‘I’m sure she will love that.’
‘She! It’s a girl?’
Sid laughed. ‘Maybe. But boy or girl–especially if it’s a girl–my child will have the choice of all those things, and he or she will take after Uncle Jake and be exceptional at sports.’
‘And a master of the kitchen.’
‘Goes without saying,’ Sid returned.
‘So, what’s Mum’s problem? Does she think you’re too young to be a mother?’ Jake winked.
‘I can see you’re back to being your witty self.’ Sid smiled, stood, wandered back to the window and blew her nose. The impending darkness was changing everything, the grazing mama wallaby now standing extra tall. What dangers might the night bring to threaten her joey? Were wallabies on high alert 24/7? Would Sid be? How would she know what to look out for? Did humans automatically know how to be a mother like animals seemed to? At least wallabies had safety in numbers.
‘Mum’s mad because I’m going to raise the baby on my own. According to her, I should be making Damien marry me. Or any man, for that matter.’
‘You’re kidding me.’
‘Nope!’ Sid swung around to face her brother. ‘She went on to suggest that I try to reconnect with Brian Maldon. Do you remember him? Apparently she thought he was always very smitten with me and that he might still be interested, and that I should get in touch with him and see how things go.’
‘Seriously? Bogan Brian?’ Jake sniggered. ‘And Mum was actually suggesting you don’t tell the guy you’re pregnant until you’ve suckered him in?’
‘Not in so many words, but I got the feeling that was the implication. Then she told me that the guy in number sixty-nine Wagtail Lane, up the road from the B & B, was chatting to her. He’d noticed me on my morning run. He’s also getting over a breakup, so naturally we have something in common to chat about over coffee. Like . . . Never! We most definitely would not have anything in common. Have you seen Mr Sixty-Nine?’
‘Flippin’ fishcakes!’ Jake pondered the news. ‘Mr Sixty-Nine, hey? Go for it.’ When Sid didn’t laugh at his joke, he went quiet for a moment, then cleared his throat and spoke softly. ‘You know, Sid, that’s probably Mum’s way of saying any bloke would be lucky to have you. I tend to agree–about the lucky thing, not the sucking-a-guy-in thing. And, also, umm . . .’
‘What, Jake?’
‘Well, rather than hooking up with a bloke, you do have other, you know, choices. Not that I’d want you to, or expect you to–’
‘Hey, Jakey, it’s okay. I thought about an abortion for about five seconds and decided I’d no more terminate this baby than I would trick someone into marrying me. I know abortion happens, and for good reason sometimes, but it’s not for me, and neither is conning a man into marrying.’
‘I can’t believe never-do-wrong Natalie would even suggest something like that to you.’
‘Maybe it’s a mob thing,’ she said.
‘Huh?’
‘Maybe that’s what Mum’s on about. She’s telling me I need a mob to look after me and my little joey bump.’
Sid took a final glance out the window at the wallaby family retreating in collective bounds to the safety of the scrub as night fell. She was going to be responsible for another human being. How would she know what to be alert for? Her own childhood had been so safe, so secure, that she’d never had to develop her survival instincts. For all her faults, Natalie had been a fierce protector. But that didn’t make her a good mother, in Sid’s book anyway.
‘I’ll stick up for you with Mum,’ Jake was saying.
‘And I’ll learn to survive without a mob,’ she said. ‘I have to start standing up for myself. My baby, my choice.’
‘I’ll be your mob, sis.’