Gabby comes back to Grandma’s place with me.
“How’d I do?” she asks and I give her a thumbs-up.
“You were you,” I say. And I sign it in Auslan too, because if she’s going to learn, she might as well start now. “And being you is exactly perfect.”
She grins, happy, and bounces a little bit. “The classes start in two weeks. I can’t wait. Plus, when we get so good at signing to each other, we’ll be able to sit in my room in total silence and freak my mum out. She won’t be able to listen at the door.”
I feel slightly shocked. “Does she do that?”
Gabby laughs. “Probably not. But the fact that she can’t, even if she wants to, is going to make her head spin.”
I have two more days at Grandma’s, and we do the usual things: gardening, going out to eat and just hanging around.
On the last day she tells me to get in the car, we’re going to the nursery.
“What for?” I ask.
“You’ll see,” she says.
When we get there she still won’t tell me what she needs, so I try to guess. “Mushroom compost? Sugarcane mulch? Spray for the roses?”
“No,” she says. And she leads me down to the section where the vines and creepers are.
“Are you putting in something new?” I ask but she shakes her head.
“Read the tag,” she says. “On that one.” She points to a medium sized pot which has in it a green vine growing small white flowers. I bend down to look at it but I already know what it is.
Jasmine.
“They spelt it wrong,” I say, trying to make it a joke, and Grandma smiles at me.
“I couldn’t find a version of it with a ‘z’. Turns out you’re unique,” she says. “But we know that already.” She picks up the plant. “It’s for your garden at home. I know you’re still not sure if you want to plant one or not, but this might change your mind.”
There’s a sudden lump in my throat. My heart feels like it’s tearing open with love, and I can hardly look at Grandma.
“Really?” I say.
“Really,” she says. And she says something else. “It’s hardy. It grows anywhere. It survives most things. And, it smells incredible. No one can miss it.” She tilts her head towards me. “Just like you. You’re going to find your place, you know. Because your place is wherever you decide to be. You’re hardy and resilient. You can grow anywhere. And you are an amazing person.”
“Who smells good,” I say, with another grin.
“Who smells incredible,” Grandma says with a wild shrug and crazy gesture. She hugs me. “And after this we’ll get a cup of tea, okay?”
“Okay.”
I’m sad to leave, of course, when Grandma drops me back to the new house, but I’m also surprisingly glad to see Mum again. She’s standing at the front door, waiting for me as we pull up, with Geoff by her side. They look happy together, I think, and there’s a jump in my heart when I catch Mum’s eye and she smiles at me. I feel warm inside.
I’ve missed her, I realise.
There are hugs all around. We get all the stuff out of the car, including the jasmine plant, the pot all wrapped up in a plastic bag so it won’t leak water or dirt all over the seats.
“Don’t forget to plant it,” Grandma tells me. She has to leave straight away because otherwise it’ll be dark when she gets home and she prefers not to drive at night. “Next time you can show me how it’s doing.” I kiss her goodbye, and Mum and Geoff say thank you as well, and Grandma heads off.
And I’m home again.
Home. The word doesn’t sound too bad.
Mum taps me on the shoulder.
Was it good? she signs to me. Were you happy?
I stand and look at her for a moment. She’s signing. Without sighing. Or looking upset.
It was really good, I tell her. And Gabby was great too.
Geoff follows us into the kitchen. Mum gestures to the table. Come and tell me everything, she signs. But slowly. Because I’m still practising.
“I can talk if you want,” I say. I still have my hearing aids in from being with Grandma. “It’s not a problem.”
No, signs Mum. I should practise this. Let’s try.
I sit, amazed. And Mum sits too. And then, the most surprising thing of all happens.
Geoff taps me on the shoulder. I look up to him, and I see his concentrating face. He uses his hands. And he signs.
Do you want tea?
It’s slow and a bit awkward, but it’s a question and I can understand it. A smile spreads out over my face, and I sign back to him.
Yes, please.
And that first day back, I talk to Mum and to Geoff. A lot. And when we’ve finished talking, and I’m in my room, I dig in my cupboard and find Mum’s old bracelet. I put it on again, and I go to find Mum.
“Do you mind if I wear this for a bit?” I ask her, holding out my wrist. “I like it.”
She looks up at me, from her chair in her office, surprised. ‘Of course,’ she signs. ‘I’d love you to.’
‘I’ll wear it with this one,’ I sign to her, and hold out the silver bracelet I wore at the wedding. “They look nice together.”
Mum swallows hard, and blinks a little, and then she gives me a smile that isn’t tight, and isn’t stretched. Her eyes are smiling too. ‘They look wonderful together,’ she says.
On the second day back, I plant the jasmine vine in the garden. I dig into the dirt, spread a little fertiliser and then fill up the hole with the plant. Then I take the tendrils and carefully thread them around bits of the fence, so they’ll cling and grow. I sit back on my heels and look at my work.
It looks good.
It smells incredible.
It feels like home.
And from that point, that’s the way things are.
I figure I just have to work life out as I go. I’m not as Strong Deaf as some people, but I’m don’t hear as well as others, either. I’m that girl who has hearing aids, and who struggles to speak Auslan at the right speed. Grandma says I’m going to have to be good at crossing cultures, from the Deaf culture to the hearing culture. That’s true, I guess. I’m straddling two worlds, I know that, and there are people I love in both of them. Maybe one day, I’ll pick a culture and live in it more permanently for a while. But right now I don’t want to make that decision. I’m only fourteen. Maybe I’ll miss out on something.
Or maybe I won’t. Who knows?
But sometimes you just have to keep going, even if you don’t know what final decision to make.
In my garden, my jasmine vine is growing. Grandma was right. It’s hardy, and it’ll survive most things. Like me.
It’s not easy, being Jazmine. It’s confusing. It’s tricky. It’s marvellous, it’s terrible. It’s triumphant, it’s hilarious. But it’s not impossible, and I’m doing the best I can.
In the end, I’m okay with it.
And I’m grateful.
Because there are a thousand different ways of being okay.
THE END