“You’re amazing,” Taya said with a sigh. “You’re in great shape, Mum. And I mean that in more ways than one. I don’t know how you’re coping so well, but I’m surprised. I thought for sure you’d fall apart without Dad.”
“Why would I do that?” Mum asked, tenting a hand over her eyes to meet Taya’s gaze.
It was mid-morning, and the sun was bright and hot in the sky overhead. It was a beautiful day, the kind of day that Taya felt bad for enjoying without her father there with her. How was Mum so okay, when she was his wife?
“I don’t know. I suppose I was wrong about you. You’re stronger than I knew.”
Mum drew in a slow, deep breath, shut her eyes as the breath released back into the air around her. When she spoke, her voice was so soft that Taya almost couldn’t hear it. “When we were first married, I thought I’d hit the jackpot. He was so handsome and kind, fun and cheeky. We had the best time together. I was in love. But then, he started this company of his and things changed. He was gone all the time, and I hardly ever saw him. At first, it broke my heart, but then I got used to it. I had to.”
“You’re used to him not being around,” Taya said, realisation dawning. “I suppose that makes sense.”
“In a way, but that’s not what I’m saying. There were years when I had to manage everything on my own. He wasn’t here, and even when he was, he was busy, and his thoughts were elsewhere. The house, the bills, the groceries, clothing—all of it was my responsibility. He was like a house guest who came to visit when he had the chance. Oh, don’t get me wrong. I loved him, but I had to learn not to rely on him or my heart would’ve broken every single time he flew off to open another resort location.”
Taya peered up at the sky. A single pelican flew by overhead. Its giant wings flapped in a steady beat. There was no panic, no anxiety, no rush. The bird knew it had time between each beat of its wings; it wouldn’t fall to the ground. It trusted the wind that carried it forward to keep it aloft between each flap. Taya had never mastered that skill. She inhaled slowly, like her mother had done, and let the air flow back out through her mouth in a long, easy motion. The tension in her gut unravelled a little, and so she did it again.
“Then you came along,” Mum continued. “And you never slept. You had colic, and you cried all night long. I thought I’d lose my mind.” She chuckled. “But I didn’t. I managed because I had to. There was no one to help me. Oh, I could’ve asked my mother to come, but she never had a kind word for me or your father, so I held my tongue and decided that I could do it alone.”
“And you did,” Taya said.
“Yes, I did. We got through the baby year, you and me. Your father was building the resort in Darwin, I believe. I learned how to be a mother, and you learned how to face the world without quite so much crying. We had a wonderful time together, even with all the sleepless nights. I loved being a mother — still do.”
“You’re a good mum,” Taya said. “The best. I didn’t always understand you, but I do more and more these days. And I couldn’t have asked for anyone better to raise me. I think I blamed you sometimes for Dad’s absence. I took it out on you, and I’m sorry for doing that.”
Mum smiled. “It’s okay. Water under the bridge.”
“You were both wonderful parents to me.”
“We did our best. You were our dream come true. I wanted more children. Did you know that?”
Taya shook her head, frowning. “Really?”
“Yep. I would’ve loved a whole lot of children all running around me, noisy and laughing and fighting and playing. It was my dream. But I couldn’t have any after you. There was no real reason—at least none the doctors could find. I had secondary infertility, they said. What it meant was no more children and no one for you to play with. It broke my heart, but I coped. I became your pal, your playmate. I threw myself into raising you, took you to play group and music lessons, swimming lessons and crawling club. Everything I could find, we were part of it.”
Taya laughed. “I remember being very busy after school some days — dance and piano, swimming and running.”
“We did it all,” Mum said as she chased a fly away with a bat of her hand.
“Thank you for such a great childhood. I often feel bad for anyone who didn’t get to grow up on Coral Island.”
“You had an idyllic childhood. One I would’ve loved to have. I gave you everything I could, everything I never had. Love, affection, encouragement, belief. I hope you know I still believe in you.”
“I know that, Mum. You’re a good cheerleader. But the thing is, I’m completely overwhelmed.” Even as she spoke the words, a lump formed in her throat.
“Overwhelmed by what, honey?”
“Everything. Andrew broke up with me.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” Mum stared at the sky. Her voice was monotone, as though she wasn’t bothered by Taya’s words.
“You don’t sound very sorry,” Taya snipped.
Mum shrugged. “I’m not surprised.”
“What? That’s not…”
“I mean, he wasn’t right for you, honey. He isn’t strong like you are. You’re too much for him. It’s not unusual for a man to break it off with a woman when things get real — like dealing with grief. Maybe he’s had enough of grief in his life. Or perhaps he doesn’t like being faced with real emotions. I don’t know, but he was a lovely boyfriend, a nice man, someone to get you over the hump of dating again. That’s not a tragedy, my love. That’s an opportunity.”
Taya had never seen this side of her mother before. “When did you become such a fount of wisdom?”
