For the rest of the week Mum and Samantha hardly talked. They barely even looked at each other. Samantha kept her distance and stayed in her room, while Mum stayed too Terminatorbusy to notice. I kept my head low. I still wasn’t well enough for school, so I took naps and read through old books.
When Rene heard that I was going to the Zone Finals as a spectator, she talked her mum into letting her go too. Every time she talked about it, she spoke about Marco and his goals for glory, but I guessed she also wanted to keep an eye on me. Typical Rene.
Not that I needed sympathy. It wasn’t the swimming, after all, that had driven me. It was the being there for Levi that mattered. Whenever I thought of him, I saw his jaw clenched hard and his focus on Friday’s competitors. Not long now, Levi, until you prove you can do it . . . then you can relax, and smile at me again . . .
It wasn’t until Friday morning that my phantom sister appeared long enough for me to talk to her properly. She burst out of the bathroom as I was headed in.
‘Big day, hey, Jade!’ Samantha said, breathless and steamy from the shower.
‘Yeah,’ I said, smiling at the excitement about her. I’d been through enough days like this to know how she was feeling.
Samantha kept going past me, hugging the towel wrapped around her. ‘And good luck, yeah? Knock’em dead, Supergirl!’
I watched her walking up the hall. ‘Good luck yourself . . .’
She waved before disappearing into her room. I sent an extra prayer after her. Enjoy the day, Sam. You deserve it, sister . . .
And then somehow, before I knew it, I was knocking on her door, just like I’d done so often lately.
As I peeked in, Sam was pulling on a long velvet dress.
‘Hey, you okay?’ she asked once she’d slipped her arms through.
I bit my lip and nodded. ‘You know, I didn’t make the team.’ I glanced at the bed, then at Samantha. ‘I’m not actually swimming.’
‘Oh . . .’ she stepped close and put a hand on my bare arm. It felt soft and warm. ‘That’s too bad, Jade. I’m sorry . . .’
I looked at her and breathed in. ‘So I was thinking, maybe . . . I might come to your exhibition.’
‘Really? I mean . . . of course,’ said Samantha quickly. ‘That would be great if, you want to.’ She was frowning and watching me closely in a way that made me sure I was doing the right thing.
‘I’d like to come,’ I said. ‘And we could go out for coffee afterwards, maybe?’
Samantha’s frown softened as her face broke into a grin. ‘You mean you’re changing your plans at the last minute? My goodness, Jade, you’re being spontaneous!’
‘Yeah,’ I said, and laughed.
When I called Rene, it took a while to explain what was going on.
‘And you’re sure you’re okay?’ she kept asking.
‘Yes yes, very sure,’ I said. ‘It’s complicated . . . but I can’t let Sam be alone this time. She should have someone there for her.’ I paused. ‘I was hoping, though, can you let me know . . .’
Rene didn’t need me to explain. ‘Of course! Say no more. I’ll be your eyes and ears, babe.’
‘Thanks, Rene,’ I said and hung up.
So this was how it would end . . . Levi would still swim his race and prove his point in the pool. He’d do it, I knew he would. The only difference was – when he touched that finish line, I wouldn’t be there to share it. It wasn’t about me winning him back anymore. It was enough to be about him winning.
When I got to Samantha’s uni, a familiar figure was standing beside the path and talking on her mobile. Her mouth was straight and shoulders square, suit jacket buttoned neatly.
I stopped beside her and raised my eyebrows meaningfully.
‘I’m sorry, Albert, something’s come up. Can I call you back?’ Mum switched off and frowned. ‘What are you doing here?’
I shrugged in mock innocence. ‘I could ask you the same thing, couldn’t I?’
Mum cleared her throat as a couple walked past us up the path. ‘Well, it’s important to Samantha,’ she said, as if telling me something new. ‘I should be here.’
I sighed. ‘Yep, we both should be.’
Mum looked through the entrance and breathed in. ‘All right then . . . Let’s go in.’
Together we walked through the foyer and into the exhibition room, sticking close like two kids at a new school. Maybe my trackies and a loose ponytail wasn’t exactly the right gear for an art display. Mum looked out of place too – all angles and straight lines compared to the flowing, arty fabrics and meaningful make-up around us.
Just through the entrance we stopped and scanned the walls – flowers in vases, portraits of strangers, a huge spray-brushed unicorn.
‘Hey!’ A familiar figure weaved through the crowd. Samantha’s soft face and flowing velvet dress looked right at home. She was smiling, flushed, and came right up close, as if she was going to hug Mum. But then she stopped and stepped back.
Mum cleared her throat. ‘I hope you . . . I mean, I’m here to see your painting, Samantha.’
Samantha nodded. ‘I’m glad you came.’ She turned to me. ‘Both of you.’
I grinned. ‘Yeah, same here.’
Mum was nodding briskly, looking around. ‘It’s great, Sam. Really good, sweetheart.’
Samantha swivelled slightly. ‘Come for a browse?’
We started walking and I knew Mum was thinking, Which one is Samantha’s?
It wasn’t until we walked around a pillar that I saw it – storm clouds that looked eerily real with a tall figure in the middle. The figure now wore an oversized trench coat that billowed into a rippling fabric cave.
‘There,’ I said, pointing.
Mum and I went straight for it. We stopped in front of the painting, while Samantha hovered beside us, hands clenched at her chest.
For a while we stood and looked.
I felt lucky to have seen how the painting had developed while Samantha was working on it, and now to see it finished and fully realised. The main figure looked like a businesswoman, flying with her coat rippling out like a cape. Two figures had been added next to the big one, sheltered in her trench coat cave. I even started feeling proud when I realised the little kids were me and Samantha.
I turned to Samantha. ‘Hey it’s . . .’ But the rest of the sentence disappeared when I saw the look on her face. All colour had drained from her cheeks. She looked crestfallen, shell-shocked, speechless.
It wasn’t until then that I followed her gaze and felt a sudden shock hit me in the chest.
Right in front of us, in a room full of strangers, Mum had a fist pushed to her mouth. Her forehead was creased and ugly with emotion. And her eyes . . . She was crying.
Samantha swallowed and put a hand on Mum’s shoulder. ‘Mum . . . are you okay?’
Mum nodded, silently. She pulled the fist away from her mouth and sucked in a halting breath. Then once more the fist was over her mouth and the sound was contained again. ‘I’m okay.
I’m okay,’ she said. She took in a breath and nodded at Samantha. ‘It’s . . . your painting . . . it’s beautiful,’ she whispered.
Samantha gasped in surprise. In a rush, colour filled her face and her bottom lip quivered.
‘No.’ Mum cleared her throat and breathed in again, getting herself under control. ‘I don’t mean beautiful. It’s . . .’ She gestured with her hand and then held it to her chest. ‘It’s powerful, Sam. I wasn’t ready for the way it affected me . . . . it’s so . . .’ She shook her head as words failed her.
Samantha’s face crumpled. With a sob, she flung her arms around Mum.
It wasn’t until then that I realised my eyes were brimming too, for Mum who felt she had to be so Terminator-strong, but even more for Samantha. I knew exactly how she was feeling. Even back when I was only six years old and I won my first trophy, I had known. Whatever it took, I wanted Mum to be proud of me. That was all Sam wanted too.
When they pulled out of the hug, Mum kept one arm around Samantha’s shoulders. She was a beaming, blubbering mess. Mum smiled at me with a blotchy red-eyed wink and slipped her other arm behind me. It made me feel warm and safe and secure – more so than I’d felt for a long time.
My life wasn’t a straight, shiny path anymore. It was more like a sticky web, connecting to the people around me – Mum, Samantha, Rene, Pip, Monique, and even Marco and Levi. They were the people who made me who I was – daughter, sister, rival, friend – and a million other things in between. And standing with Mum’s arm around me like that, looking at Samantha’s storm, I even started feeling okay about my hypermobile body. I wasn’t angry with it anymore. If it hadn’t let me down at the start of the year, I might never have felt what it’s like to land soft in a safety-net of people. I might never have realised how much I need them all – how much we need each other.