Chapter 22

Mitchell’s Creek, Sunny Corner, New South Wales, Australia:22

“She’s had a sad life,” the window attendant said. The woman had the slight tan of a mixed race member: European features but darker and Oriental eyes.

“You know her?” I asked.

“We went to school together,” she said. “We never expected ... she should ... well, life, ya know.”

“Creeps up on ya, and suddenly you’re asking ... you want fries with that,” Jim said.

“I shoulda paid attention to the future,” she said.

From the passenger seat, I said, “Should’a ... Would’a ... Could’a ... regrets, wishes and missed chances ... We pay no attention to the past and persist in making the same mistakes our parents did ... it’s all a part of life.”

“It is that ... she’s my age ... I, at least, have a job.”

“She does.”

“Does?”

“Have a job. She’s my daughters nurse.”

“She’s a nurse?”

“Wet nurse.”

“What the hell is a wet nurse?”

“Portable milk factory,” said Myndee from the back seat. Abby was burrowed into a nipple and softly slurping away.

“You had your baby?”

“This is Abby ... David’s child,” she nodded at me. “I lost mine.” The sadness was there.

“Abby? Any relation to Just Abby?”

“Our daughter.” I continued, “Abby died in childbirth.”

“Wow ... I’m really behind,” she said. “Hi Myndee.”

“Hi Jannali,” Myndee said. “Still going with Jara?”

“Engaged,” she flashed a left hand ring finger.

Squealing ensued. Numbers exchanged.

I paid ... the attendant delivered, a horn honked behind us.

“Call me,” said Myndee.

I pulled away and out onto the street.

“What do you want to do with your gold?” Jim asked.

“Sell it.”

“You going to quit working?”

“Absolutely not. In the grand scheme of things ... it’s not very much money,” Myndee said. “I’m safe where I am.”

“You’ll take a big hit from the taxman,” I said.

“I guess I’ll go see grandfather in Hurstville,” she said.

“What is with all you girls?”

“What?”

“Abby knew a grandfather in Hurstville.”

“Same one,” she said. “If I hadn’t been so ... so ... dead set in having my own way and gone to see him when Mum died ... things might not have turned out the way they have.”

“If I’m driving we’re stopping at the Lithgow Armory Museum,” I said.

Unless you have a child at sometime in your life you have no idea what a production taking a baby anywhere is. Bags, bottles, toys, diapers, changes of clothes, carseat, towelettes, talcum powder, ribbons, cute caps that have a dual purpose. THE Blanket ... don’t even thing about leaving that! Booties, socks, shoes ... the presentation dress. A change of clothes for the nurse; or three.

And a genuine trip is all that and more ... ever wonder why women take five suitcases for a two day weekend? It starts as a baby.

We scheduled our start at 4:45 AM ... that’s freaking MORNING! HA! The sun’s not even up.

Just before it was time to go ... at 4:30AM ... still loading all the crap a woman says is necessary ... or I might need that ... which is tha same thing as necessary ... Jannali called ... in tears.

Myndee spoke into her cell for just a few minutes and said ... by royal command: “Jannali, we’ll pick you up.”