“I know, darling. What happened to Jessie, to you, to all of us, was so unfair.”
“I haven’t known how to … tobe. With the family, I mean. The only place I could be me was at work. And in Egypt. Because with you, with the family, I was only half me without her.”
“She was a huge part of all our lives. She always will be. You’ll never truly be without her.”
“No, I won’t. Someone said to me recently that by not talking about her, acknowledging her, I’m erasing her.”
Mum gives me a sad, knowing smile. I don’t need to tell her who said it. She’ll have worked out who it was for herself.
“Hmm. How do you feel about that thought?”
“It wasn’t ever my intention. But maybe that’s been the result. I think it’s time to talk about her. I need to talk about her.”
“She’s not in danger of being erased. We talk about her all the time, darling. When you’re ready, only when you’re ready, we’d love you to be part of those conversations.”
Finally, I turn and look into the loving, teary blue eyes of my mother.
“I’m ready.” I try and smile although I’m not sure my mouth manages it. “I might need to ease into it, but I’m ready.”
Mum reaches out a trembling hand and brushes the tears from my cheeks, much as Andrea did earlier.
“I’m glad.” We’re silent for quite a while, except for the evening calls of the magpies and the faint sucking sounds Andy makes.
“You know, when I was pregnant with you, I wondered how I could ever love another baby the way I loved Will. My heart felt full already, and I worried there wouldn’t be room for you. Then you were born. And somehow, I loved you just as fully, just as all-consumingly as I did Will. My heart just grew to make room for you. It didn’t diminish my love for Will. My love for you wasn’t lesser in any way. There was just … more room.”
“I can’t imagine that, to be honest.” But maybe I’m getting close to imagining it. Almost. And maybe Mum knows it.
“I guess you’ll have to take my word for it until you experience it for yourself. When you’re ready.” She pats my hand, just like Andy did. Guess that’s where he got it.
And because we’re Carters, the moment is broken by a loud noise and a noxious smell from the region of Andrea’s nappy.
“I’ll tell you what Iamready for. I’m ready to hand this baby over to his parents.”
The dinner table is crowded and noisy. We’re about to start eating when I stand and tap a fork against my glass. Silence drops like a guillotine, all eyes on me.
Mum, who is sitting across from me, nods encouragement, even as a tear rolls down her cheek.
“I, ah …” I clear my throat. Take a gulp of wine. “I’d like to make a toast.” I scan the faces of the people I love most in the world, who have never once let me down. Who have stood by me, even when I didn’t deserve it. I start again.
“I’d like to make a toast to my wife. She can’t be here with us in body anymore. But I know in my heart, she’s here in spirit. Nothing would make her happier than to see this family growing. And wherever she is, she’ll be watching over Theo and Cora; Isla and Magnus; Andy; and any others that might be lurking about.” I tip my glass towards the kids’ parents as I speak, lastly aiming a quick glance at Greer and Josh, who are glowing with joyous anticipation. I hold my glass higher. “To Jess. Always loved. Always remembered.”
The whole table stands. “To Jess.” Everyone is crying. And laughing.
And the floodgates open. As though by mentioning her name, I’ve given everyone permission to speak. Which is, I guess, what I intended.
Dinner goes late into the night as we talk and laugh and cry about Jess and how she impacted all our lives. About her friendship with Greer. About her passion for ballet and teaching. About the hard time she gave Josh when he was struggling to resist Greer. About when I realised I thought of her as more than my sister’s friend. About how kind she was to Josh’s brother, Ty, when he first joined the family. About her sense of humour and her kindness and her generosity of spirit.
And although I don’t say all that much, although I mainly listen, I feel healed in a way I hadn’t expected.
And I’m deeply aware I have Sadie to thank for it.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Sadie
Ipull into my grandparent’s driveway at ten pm on Christmas Eve after a drive that took seven hours when it should’ve taken four. Nobody in their right mind would drive up the M1 on the day before Christmas. But nobody in their right mind would spend more time than they absolutely have to with my mother either.
“Darling, you must’ve had a hellish trip,” says Nana as I tumble out of the car. She folds me up in a hug that smells like cinnamon and baby powder, kissing my cheek and holding me tight, her little black and tan dachshund, Mitzi jumping around our feet, yapping for attention. Mum stands in the doorway, holding her glass of red wine tight. The slight tilt suggests this isn’t her first. Or even her second.
