Several hours passed after I spoke with Hilary. Ted had put a load of laundry on, but I was so anxious that the sound of the washing machine was making me jumpy.
‘Let’s go out,’ Ted suggested. ‘Gardening? Shopping? The movies? What do you think will distract you best?’
‘Let’s go shopping,’ I said, thinking of my too-tight work clothes. ‘I’ll just . . . let me just check my email before we go. Just in case.’
I sat down at the computer. I was already thinking about dragging Ted around the mall –he’d patiently follow me around all day, and I knew he wouldn’t complain once . . . not today, anyway. Maybe it was unkind to take him up on his offer. Maybe—
Every thought stopped when I realised that I already had an email in my inbox from Hilary. The subject line was: Liliana Piper (Wyzlecki) and Sabina Wilson. I called Ted and we stared at it together. After a moment, he sat his hand on my shoulder.
‘Are you going to open it?’ he asked softly.
‘I can’t,’ I whispered. I was physically frozen, my limbs had stopped responding to commands from my mind. ‘Why didn’t she call? Hilary said she’d call after she spoke with Liliana. Is this to let me know that Liliana doesn’t want to talk to me?’
On some level, I’d been so confident that there was a happy ending beyond all of this confusion, but of course it wasn’t a given that my biological mother would want me to be part of her life. Perhaps it was too hard, or too late, or just too difficult. How could I judge her for that? I had no concept of how I had come to be, or even how we’d been separated.
The computer made the sound of a bell. Another email had entered my inbox.
From: Lilly Piper
I started to cry. Now I was shaking too hard to move the mouse, and I stood and stepped back away from it. I felt hot and sweaty and nauseous. Ted took my hand.
‘Let me help, Bean.’
I nodded, then nodded again and pointed to the chair, my throat too tight to speak. He sat, then clicked on Hilary’s email first.
Dear Liliana and Sabina,
I’m delighted to say that you are both very keen for contact. I am so pleased we are able to connect you. Having arranged some dozens of these reunions now, I encourage you to take it slowly, and keep your expectations of each other low. If I can help in any way as you re-establish your relationship, please let me know. I’ll call you both in the next few days to see how you are feeling. Be kind to yourselves, and each other. Hilary
‘Are you ready for the next one?’ Ted asked me, and I squeezed his shoulder because my voice wouldn’t work at all.
Dear Sabina,
I am so, so very glad that you have decided to make contact with me. I have been waiting for this moment for thirty-eight years. I want you to know that not a second has gone by where I have not held you close to me at least somewhere in my mind.
I just know you are a wonderful person, and I am so hoping this will mean a chance to get to know you.
You must have so many questions – I will try to guess what some of them are. I am married to your father, James, and we have two other children, Simon and Charlotte. You are an aunty to Dominic and Valentina, who are the most beautiful six-month-old twins, and to Neesa, who is twelve, and an equally beautiful, big-spirited pre-teen. Your father and I live on our family property, Piper’s Peace, which is near the village of Molong in the central west of New South Wales. James is a farmer, and I am a history teacher.
I count you very much as a part of our family, and when you’re ready, I would just so love to chat to you on the phone. Also, if you feel ready, but with no pressure to rush until you are, I’d love to see a photo of you. I have attached one of us all, taken a few days after the twins were born.
Thank you again for reaching out, Sabina. I feel a joy so big that I really can’t find words for it.
All my love, always and always,
Lilly
Ted opened the image. There was a couple in the centre of the photo, each holding a tiny newborn baby and wearing an expression of pure delight. To their right, a tall blonde woman was embracing an older child.
I glanced quickly enough to surmise that an older couple were standing like bookends on either side of the group. I could not bring myself to look at them just yet.
‘Ted,’ I whispered. ‘I have a sister and a brother.’
‘And you’re an aunt.’
‘I’m an aunt,’ I echoed, and then I thought about this and I grinned. ‘I’m an aunt, Ted!’
‘They look like you.’
‘They really do. Well, they don’t.’ I pointed to two blonde women on the screen, then moved my finger towards the woman holding the newborn. ‘I guess that must be Simon’s wife? The email doesn’t say her name.’
Ted nodded towards the other blonde.
‘There is no way that glamorous woman just gave birth to twins . . . so I guess you’re right.’
‘She’s stunning.’
‘So are you,’ Ted said hastily. ‘But you sure have different . . . colouring.’
‘And builds, Ted. I can see her, you know.’ A bubble rose inside me and popped as a laugh. ‘I have a sister and she looks like a fashion model. I look more like Mum than I do her. How did that happen?’
‘That must be your father, I guess she takes after that side,’ Ted said, and he moved his finger to the tall man on the left of the photo. I finally let my eyes wander past the younger family members.
He was thin, and beyond his high forehead was a patch of silver hair. He was tanned, actually quite a bit too tanned, in that weathered way that is so typical of Australian farmers. His grin was impossibly broad, displaying an undeniable pride and joy.
I liked him immediately, just on sight. There was something so open about his smile.
‘What’s his name again?’ Ted asked, and when he moved to bring the email back onto screen, I squeezed his shoulder again.
‘James Piper,’ I said. The name was already written onto my heart, there was no chance I’d forget it. ‘I guess that means that she is Liliana . . .’
I let my gaze focus on Liliana Wyzlecki – my mother, or at least, one of my mothers. I stared at her long after my vision had blurred and after the inevitable sobs started.
I cried for Liliana Piper, because she was standing in a photo with her beautiful, full family, and she was beaming a proud, delighted grin – but I could still see sadness in her eyes. I could see from my first glance at her that she, like me, had no way of hiding her emotions – this was not a woman who could contain a secret. Just like me, her inner feelings were written all over her face for the world to see.
And I really was the spitting image of Liliana. Her hair was shaped into a sensible bob, but it was thick and shiny and the same warm brown that mine had always been. We shared the same big brown eyes, the same chubby cheeks and the same broad smile. She was curvy like me, but physically stronger somehow – maybe she did some manual work on the farm. She was wearing a blue shirt, a red scarf and a pair of jeans, over a cheeky pair of bright red boots. I wondered if she liked to wear bright colours, just as I did. I wondered what else we would have in common.
I felt terrified, and overjoyed, and nervous and relieved all at the same time. I was just a bundle of anxious excitement. I had gained a family – a huge family by my standards – siblings to build friendships with, nieces and nephews to nurture. There would be complexities to a family with so many people, maybe a web of confused agendas and feelings, and I would have to weave my own life into that web if I was going to become a part of this group. That was daunting – Mum and Dad had proven complex enough.
I looked back to Lilly, and then over to James, and a sudden impatience gripped me. I gently pushed Ted’s shoulder and when he rose, I took his place at the keyboard and began to type.
Dear Lilly,
When we can meet?
Sabina
Ted cleared his throat.
‘That’s where you want to start the conversation?’
I thought, remembering Hilary’s comments about keeping our expectations low and taking things slowly, and I withdrew my hand from the keyboard.
‘I just feel like I need to go meet her,’ I admitted. ‘Seriously, what am I going to learn via email? Or the phone? If I can’t see her . . . I mean . . . I just won’t know her until I meet her. Am I being hasty?’
‘Hilary did say you should take it pretty slowly.’
‘That’s easy for Hilary to say. I want answers. And if I was Liliana, and this was our baby, I would want her to drop everything and show me that she was okay.’
Ted was silent for a long moment. I turned to glance up at him.
‘Well?’
‘I think this really has to be your decision, Bean,’ he said quietly.
‘Come on, Ted. Help me out here. I’m ready to hit the send button, the only reason I’m not is that you seem nervous.’
‘Of course I’m nervous. You’re nervous too, or you should be. But if this is what you think we need to do, well, we may as well go for a drive this weekend.’
I brought the photo back up onto the screen and stared at it for a moment. Were Ted and I the missing pieces of their puzzle, or were we extra parts that would never quite fit?
‘We could meet somewhere in the middle. Or maybe we could invite them here first?’
‘Bean, we can’t even fit a sofa bed in here. Are you suggesting we invite them to come visit us and put them up in a hotel?’
‘Good point,’ I sighed, and then I groaned with the frustration of it all. ‘I wish I could talk to Mum about this. It would all have been so much easier if I was dealing with it with their support when I was say . . . five. Or ten. Or when I turned sixteen, or even eighteen? Why now?’
‘Judging by the way this has played out, you’re pretty lucky you found out at all. And if you really want to talk to Megan, why don’t you just give her a call?’
‘Because I’m sick of begging her for information. And because they’re so damned stubborn and it’s not fair at all.’ I had a sudden moment of decisiveness and I sat up straight and drew in a deep breath. ‘You know what? I think we should offer to drive out and meet them, this weekend if they’re free. But if we get there and it’s awful you have to think of a reason for us to leave.’
‘Is “this is really awkward and Sabina doesn’t like you” a good enough reason?’ he grinned at me and I sighed impatiently.
‘No, it’s not. Do you think it will be like that?’
‘I think it’ll be a bit awkward, but I don’t think it’ll be awful, and I’m quite confident that you’ll find some common ground. And if you don’t, we never have to go back. Right?’
‘Right.’
‘So we’re doing this?’
‘Let’s do it,’ I said, and I sat my hand over the mouse and sent the email.