When Nana and I get home from school that evening, Mum is sitting on our front steps eating a scone. ‘Hey guys!’ she says. She jumps up. Crumbs fall from her denim skirt. She’s got leopard print tights on under it.
‘What do you want?’ Nana asks.
‘Hi, Mum!’ I say. I go to her and she kisses both my cheeks.
‘I’ve found an apartment in a good neighbourhood. I wondered if Apple wanted to come over for dinner. I’ve someone I’d like her to meet.’
‘I’d love to come,’ I say.
Nana clicks her tongue. She takes my hand and forces me to stand behind her as though Mum’s a bomb that could detonate at any second. ‘I’ve baked salmon for dinner. I don’t like waste.’
‘How about after dinner then?’ Mum asks.
‘Apple has homework to do and she has school tomorrow, in case you’d forgotten,’ Nana says. She is careful not to say no outright.
‘OK.’ Mum nibbles on a fingernail. ‘How about the weekend?’
‘Apple practises her clarinet at the weekends.’
‘Not for the whole weekend,’ I say. I peep out from behind Nana. Mum tilts her head to the side and smiles. My insides bubble. I still can’t believe she’s back. I keep expecting I’ll wake up from a dream or Nana will sit me down and break the news that Mum’s gone again.
‘Sunday?’ Mum asks.
‘You can fetch her at one o’clock after we’ve been to Mass, but you’re to have her back before five, so she can get ready for the week,’ Nana says. She marches up the steps, past Mum, and roughly unlocks the front door. ‘Come inside please, Apple.’ I do as I’m told. Nana leaves Mum there on the steps like some criminal we need to be afraid of.
‘Can’t she come in?’ I ask.
Mum tucks her hair behind her ears, which have three piercings apiece. ‘It’s all right, Apple.’
‘No, it isn’t all right. It’s my house too,’ I say.
‘Go upstairs and do your homework,’ Nana says.
‘Go on, Apple. I’ll see you on Sunday.’
I don’t want to, but I stomp up to my room. I open the window and look out. I can only see the tops of Mum’s and Nana’s heads.
I can hear everything.
Mum: I told you I was sorry.
Nana: Eleven years, Annie. That is how long I have waited to hear you say it.
Mum: Can you let me try to make it up to you? I’ve someone I want you to meet. An important someone.
Nana: I don’t think so. Apple’s had quite enough of that kind of thing from her father.
Mum: What? Oh yeah, I see what you mean. So Chris got married eventually. I don’t know why, but it makes me sad.
Nana: Could we avoid the melodrama, if possible, Annie? Now don’t you be late on Sunday.
Nana disappears inside. The door bangs. Mum shuffles down the steps.
When she’s at the bottom, she looks up at the house and sees me. I wave, and she waves back. And I start wondering how it would be if I never had to wave goodbye any more. I start thinking it would be really nice.