Now the chain is arranged to her satisfaction, she tilts her head. ‘I suppose that is fair. I worry about you, after all.’
I huff out another laugh, a less fraught-sounding one. ‘Why?’
She looks at my hand as she squeezes it. ‘Because you are young, Amita, and your mother is gone.’ Her voice is small but solemn, which is not like her usual tone at all. ‘I see you trying to hold onto the threads of her all around you.’
A gasping noise comes out of me, like a kettle letting off steam. The steam clouds my eyes, and I have to blink it away. The scene with Reggie this morning, the fight with Harris, it all threatens to overwhelm me. And now Nani is talking about Mum, and I can’t look at her for a moment. But I can feel her hand, holding mine.
‘You should not be clinging onto what is gone, bebe,’ she says softly. ‘It is not yet time for that. You should be looking outward to the world, and forward to the life ahead.’
I shake the tears away, clear my throat. ‘Life ahead…’ My grandmother has gone to the heart of the matter again, as usual. ‘I don’t know, Nani. It’s scary. I can’t see that far.’
‘Nobody can. That is the fact of it, Amita.’ She pats my hand, her expression fond yet firm. ‘But you cannot let yourself be afraid of it. You must only be energised by it. The potential of it. And it is yours – it is nobody else’s. Nobody will ever live this life like you will.’
It’s what Nick said, too. But the whole idea terrifies me. ‘How will I know if I’m doing it right?’
‘You will knowhere.’ She lifts her hand and smooshes her palm against my breastbone, over my heart. ‘And you will remember what we have said to you, your mother and father and I.’ Which sounds really sensible, and should settle me down. Except what she says next, as she tidies her blankets, freaks me out completely. ‘I have tried to live a good life. I have lived in different places and done many things. I have loved with all my heart. Those have been the important things.’
I feel like shoving my fist in my mouth, but I don’t. I settle for hyperventilating a little. ‘Nani, please don’t talk like this.’
She regards me primly. ‘I think I am old enough to have earned that right, Amita. Now you will stop your worrying, and let me rest. Surely you have something better to do than fuss over me.’
Reluctantly, I drag myself up and to the doorway. I’m almost outside in the hall when Nani quavers out again. ‘Amita? Where is your Ouyen boy?’
Turning around to meet her eyes is almost more than I can handle. ‘He’s… I don’t know. I don’t know what’s going on with him right now.’
‘What is it? Did you have a disagreement?’ She raises her eyebrows. ‘Did you speak the truth to one another? Speaking truth can be painful sometimes.’
‘Yes.’ My own voice quavers. ‘No. I don’t know.’
‘Well, when you have figured it out I’m sure things will be better.’
I go out. Everything seems faintly skewed – the hallway, the doors to each room – like a photo taken through a fish-eye lens. I wander back through the carport to the outhouse where all my gear still sits inside my suitcase. The purple folder with the residency paperwork lies on top. The Friday deadline for interviews is only a few days away.
The room is stuffy with the windows closed. I lie back on the bed. Trying not to cry is really exhausting, so I give in to the urge for a while. Then I wriggle up and blow my nose, force my brain to work.
I look at my hands: they resuscitated a boy at the house in Amblin Court just this morning. That seems to have happened a lifetime ago. The conversation with Nani is rolling around in my head, plus the talk with Hansa in the kitchen. I get up and push open a window, see if that makes me feel less stifled.
There’s Harris to think about as well. It would be easier if I didn’t have about a million voicemail messages from him. I check my phone but they’re all still there. In every one of them he sounds pleading.Amie, I’m sorry…Amie, I never meant to say all that stuff…Reggie’s okay, he’s gonna be okay…Please call me.They get more desperate as they go along.Amie, please…I know I screwed up…You don’t have to forgive me, just let me know you’re all right…Please, Amie…I can’t do this on my own.
There’s no getting around it, I have to get in touch with him again. I made a commitment to be his contact and I can’t just drop him in it; the outcome could be devastating. I don’t think about who it would be more devastating for when I tap out a text.
Hospital meeting @5pm for outpatient evaluation if available
I hit Send, lie back on my bed, consider the next problem. Imposing mental order is somehow important. Okay. My aunt wants me to become Nani’s full-time carer. I turn the idea over in my head. Oh my god, it’s suffocating in this room. I jump up again and stand by the open window, close my eyes to breathe deep.
I could do it. In fact, I shouldwantto do it. Don’t I want to help look after Nani? Of course, of course I do. In lots of ways, I’ve been training for it for the last few years. And it would be kind of the perfect job for me. I’d be near enough to Dad, I could work towards completing my nursing training, I’d be right here to help Nani, support the family…
I look over and see the purple folder, the papers curling in the heat. The dizziness I felt outside my grandmother’s room rises up in me again. A sticky nausea comes along for the ride. I clutch the aluminium sash of the window, hold on tight, wait for the nausea to subside – but it doesn’t. Is this what I want? To live in Mildura, caring for Nani every day, never going anywhere else? Like Jas: growing up here, growing old here, dying here…
I’ve never questioned it before, and suddenly everything Harris said this morning comes crashing down on me.
You’re so busy playing the fucking martyr, giving up your residency, giving up everything for your family…freaking out about how everyone will cope without you, and it’s just a fucking excuse to do nothing.
Have I been hiding all these years? Even from myself?
I don’t know. And the worst thing is, if it’s true, I’ve cut off any means of escape. I’ve been so good, soresponsible, for so long, I’ve backed myself into a corner: everyone expects me to do the right thing and stay with Nani. I feel guilty even considering another option. My aunt will be so disappointed with me if I choose differently, and Nani will still need care…
Has everything Harris said turned out to be right?
