“Goodness me, girl,” Moi says, after Claire recounts the last few weeks of her life. “You have not had an easy time of it, have you?”
Claire shakes her head. “No.” She blinks at her sandwich, grateful for this attention to her experience during Cam’s time in hospital. Moi already knows what happened. She knows all of it. But that didn’t stop her from asking what it was like for Claire the minute they sat down to lunch. And Claire told her most of it. She even told her about going to stay with Mia and her family, about how kind and generous Mia’s parent were during that awful week.
Claire picks at the last of her sandwich and bites into it slowly. This is why she loves Moi and why she misses her so much. She possesses this inspiriting combination of warm and loving with honest and brash. And she sees Claire, takes the time to actually look at her and listen to her in a way that her parents never seem to.
They are in a café near the hospital. Her mother has taken Cam in for his physiotherapy appointment, and Claire takes this precious moment to spend time with Moira sans her mother and her running commentary on everything Claire says.
“So, now that this is all over, how are you going to spend your break?” Moi asks as the waiter comes and clears their dishes. “Have some fun, I hope?”
Claire nods. “Mum and Dad actually let me have the holiday house for a few days. I’m going up with some friends on Thursday to celebrate the end of exams.”
Moi raises her eyebrows. “I bet wrangling that was no mean feat.”
“I asked Dad, so it was easier. And I think they felt guilty about going to Canberra while Cam was in hospital. That helped.”
Moi nods but says nothing. Claire can see the look in her eyes, as if she might have something to say on that matter but is exercising restraint. Just knowing the thought exists makes Claire feel better.
“I’m so glad Cam is okay. I wish I could have been here for you, kiddo.” She squeezes Claire’s arm. “I wanted to fly over, but Sam was in a bit of trouble at the school, and we decided a fast change might be good.” She smiles wearily. “You know, before the school suggested it.”
“Is he being that bad?” Claire knew he was getting in a lot of trouble, but she didn’t know it was expulsion worthy.
Moi sighs. “I think I just have to accept that for some reason he’s hurting more than anyone else, still. He’s just angry. And he doesn’t seem to know how to stop being angry.”
Claire nods. She remembers the beginnings of that rage during that awful period before and after the funeral.
“The other boys are doing great, though. Matt is getting good at the footy thing. It seems I have an athlete on my hands.”
Claire grins. “He’s such a boring jock. What about Cal?”
Two years younger, Cal was always her favourite. He was the one she spent the most time with after Gary died. The two of them sat in the backyard, hiding from the force of all the grief in the house, and asked each other big confounding questions that they were too afraid to ask anyone else, questions they didn’t know if they should ask. They freed each other to be openly curious about what happens to bodies and souls after death. And even though neither of them had answers, it was a relief to know someone else wondered those same things.
“Cal is doing great. He goes into year twelve next, and then he wants to come back to Melbourne for university.”
“Really?” Claire leans back in her chair. “That would be great. I’ll show him around.”
“I’ll miss him like hell, of course. But I have to let him go, I suppose. Though I’m starting to realise you never really let go of your kids.” She looks at Claire. “And your mother, she holds on tighter than most, right?”
Claire rolls her eyes. “Yeah.”
Moi reaches for her handbag and for the bill. Claire sits up and reaches for her own wallet, but Moi waves her away. “Don’t you dare, girl. Put that away. This is my treat, and it always will be.”
“Thank you.”
“You are welcome.” Moi throws a card onto the dish. “You know, I think Cal might be gay.”
“Really?” Claire tries to picture what Cal might be like now, but she can’t. She hasn’t seen him for four years. She can’t even imagine who he might be attracted to.
“But the thing is, I’m not sure he even knows it yet. So I have to just wait, either for him to figure it out or for him to decide to tell me.”
“He’d tell you,” Claire says. Moi and her boys are close. Claire can’t imagine Cal not telling her.
“Maybe. It’s funny how you can know certain things about your kids before they even know. And I think maybe moving out here on his own will free him a little. He’s so different from the other two, and I think he struggles with that already, without having any reason to feel any more different.”
Claire nods and wonders what her life might be like now if she went away somewhere to study, away from her parents and their expectations and demands. Would anything change? Would she have a better idea of what she wanted to do with her life or who she could be?
Moira checks her watch and signs the receipt. “We better go. Your mum and Cam will be done by now.”
“Thanks, Moi.” Claire loops her arm in Moira’s as they walk back toward the hospital.
Moira smiles at her, her red curls blowing around her face. “Anything for you, kid.” She squeezes her arm. “As long as you promise you’ll come and take a look at the new centre next week and consider helping out this summer. We’re desperately short of volunteers for the holiday program.”
Claire laughs. She should have known Moi would be shilling for her help again. “Okay, I promise I’ll come and look when I get back from the holiday house.” Claire owes her at least that.
“Good girl.” Moira squeezes her arm.
* * *
She leaves Moira at the entrance to the hospital and traipses back toward the university. They’re having a “meeting” at the café to discuss the trip and what they need to bring. It was Robbie’s idea. Claire would never have thought of it. She would’ve slung clothes, books, and maybe a swimsuit in her bag and jumped in the car. But no, according to Robbie, they might need food and beer and petrol money for the trip, and they need to work out a time to leave and where to meet. And he’s right. She’s just happy someone else is willing to be the organised one. She doesn’t want to think. She wants to stare off into the great, delicious void of lazy days by the lake and let someone else do the planning. Besides, she’s providing the venue. Her job is done.
She enters the café and scans the room. It’s busy, but not as busy as usual. Now that exams are finished, all the students are probably as far from the university as they can get. She spots Mia at a table in the corner with her head over a book.
Claire stops in her tracks and slides her hands into her pockets as a wave of weirdness washes over her. She didn’t think that she might see Mia alone. She hasn’t heard from her since the party on Friday, when she disappeared with the girl in the dress. Claire has no idea what to say or how to talk around the fact that they barely saw each other at that party and why that might have been.
She goes to the counter to order her coffee to buy herself some time, hoping the others will arrive before she’s done. But they don’t, so Claire reluctantly makes her way over. Mia stares at her phone as Claire walks over to the table.
“Hey.” She says it as casually as she can as she sits down opposite Mia and rests her forearms on the table.
“Oh hey.” She holds up her phone. “Pete’s going to be late.”
“Where’s Robbie?”
“Not sure. He’ll be here. It was his idea.” She pulls her coffee a little closer to her. “So, how are you?”
“Fine. You?”
“Good. Glad it’s holidays.”
Claire nods.
And then there’s a silence.
And Claire doesn’t know what to do because they never have silences like this, so loaded and obvious. In the short time they’ve known each other, they’ve never once struggled to find something to say to each other. Their problem has been the complete and utter opposite. They always have too much to say, something Claire finds both awesome and strange, considering how little they actually have in common.
But right in this moment, she feels as though she’s flailing because she cannot find safe conversation territory that won’t lead back to the party.
“How’s your brother doing?” Mia finally asks.
Claire looks up at her, relieved. There’s always Cam to talk about. “He’s okay. He’s whining about being stuck at home, though.”
“It must be hard. Going from his kind of job to doing absolutely nothing.”
“I guess.”
And that stilted silence drops around them again as Claire stares into her coffee. She feels even more awkward now that Mia’s given her something to go on, and she can’t even manage the responsibility of running with it properly.
She sneaks a glance at Mia and she looks apprehensive, too, with the skin wrinkled slightly around her brows. It’s obvious that they are both fully aware of this fine thread of unease between them.
Claire plays with her spoon and wonders how to make this not uncomfortable. She wishes she could deliver a casual joke to let Mia know she knows about the girl, to break open this weirdness, and to let them be normal with each other again.
The little web of tension is destroyed by the arrival of Robbie. He drops his bag on the floor, kisses them both, and sits down in his usual flurry of Robbie energy.
“Question.” He puts down his coffee, pulls off his jacket, and rests his forearms on the table. “What do cats need?”
Mia scrunches her brows. “What do you mean?”
“Need for what?” Claire asks at the same time, relieved by this dose of Robbie randomness to save this uncomfortable meeting.
“You know, to live. I mean, they just need food and kitty litter and those little furry ball things to chase, right?”
“Yeah, I guess.” Mia shrugs. “But I have a question, too. Why the hell are you asking?”
He rests his chin in his hand and raises a dubious eyebrow. “All of a sudden I seem to possess a cat. A really, really fat cat.”
“What?” Claire sits up. “Where did you find a cat? And why the hell do you want one?” She thinks of their old cat, an irritable, suspicious thing who, in that annoyingly contrary way of felines, hated everyone in the house but her mother.
“I didn’t want one. I just kind of got one. It was the neighbour’s. Well, it is the neighbour’s. This little old lady who lives across the hall. She went off to hospital a couple of weeks ago, and her son asked me to feed the cat. So I did. But she doesn’t seem to be coming back any time soon. The son didn’t leave me his number or anything, so I haven’t been able to ask him if or when she’ll be home. Or what he wants to do with the cat, who has kind of moved into my apartment. So…” He sips his coffee. “I kind of have this cat.”
“How fat is the cat?” Claire pictures a furry barrel on legs.
“Oh my God.” Robbie shakes his head, eyes wide. “So freaking fat. Hang on a minute.” He rifles through his bag and pulls out a small digital camera. He turns it on and flicks through it. “Here.” He holds the screen out to first Mia, who starts laughing, and then Claire. “Behold, Patty.”
“Oh. Wow.” That is all Claire can think to say as she takes in the sight of this massive tortoise-shell beast, her head a tiny sphere against the furry generosity of her body. A barrel on legs was not far off, it turns out. Except Claire can’t actually see her legs.
“So, anyway, that’s all they need, right? Food, water, litter, toys?”
“Yup, pretty much, I think,” Mia says.
“I’m thinking less food.” Claire holds on to his sleeve as he goes to take the camera away, just so she can take in the spectacle of Patty a moment longer. She giggles again and lets go. “And maybe a treadmill. Can that thing even walk?”
“Yeah, just.” Robbie takes a last look at the screen and puts away the camera. “Every day is a struggle for poor Patty. I think Helena fed her every time that cat so much as looked at her.”
“Who’s going to take care of her while we’re away?” Mia asks.
“A friend.” He picks up his coffee and shakes his head wearily. “God, it’s like having a child I suddenly have to worry about.”
Mia laughs. “Robbie, I’m pretty sure feeding a cat a couple of times a day is nothing like having a child.”
“Whatever. It feels like it.” Then he leans back in his seat and claps his hands excitedly. “So, where are the others? Let’s plan this freaking trip!”
