The airport has been modernised and expanded and now you can’t see any airplanes from the big windows unless you go through Security. Lara had been sick that morning so we were late, and we had just arrived when we heard a cry ‘hello!!’ in the near-empty luggage collection area. It was Maggie, back from Seattle for good after nearly six years away. I hugged her. The girls eyed her warily.
At the car we stuffed her three suitcases in and I gave Lara another drink of apple juice – a rare treat to keep her hydrated. She threw it all up almost immediately. After we had cleaned her up, Maggie sat herself down in the front seat.
– ‘ Rhea was wondering if you could sit in the back next to her,’ I said.
– ‘Oh of course’, said Maggie. ‘But can I fit?’
She crawled in and wiggled from side to side between the two car seats, squeaking and laughing as she did, to Rhea’s amusement and Lara’s startled surprise. Maggie was most impressed that I had spent eight hours there entertaining the girls in the car in our recently holiday drive to the beach. (I had been pretty proud of it myself and had decided that Steve might be more appreciative if he had a stint there for a couple of hours next time we have a long drive – but I digress).
Maggie, Peter and Oli decided to return to Australia in February and the process since then of selling a house and cars; living in short-term rented accommodation; and seven weeks of school holidays including various trips in the US were finally over. Maggie couldn’t wait to get back to her family and friends and had flown on ahead of Peter and Oli, who were spending a few days in their shack in the country near Peter’s parents’ house and two of Oli’s cousins and his uncle and aunt. We dropped Maggie off at her house, newly emptied of tenants, where she would sleep on the floor for a week until their ship[ping container] came in. She was happy.
The next day was cold and rainy. I told Lara, who I had kept home from playschool, that we were going to meet Maggie for a babychino. She looked upset. ‘I don’t ‘ite Maddie’, she confessed. When I asked why she didn’t like Maggie she said that Maggie had moved her car seat around when she sat next to her. We relived the sequence of events and I explained that Maggie was just trying to squeeze in and she was being silly because it was a bit squashy – in fact both Rhea and Lara had laughed too. Lara looked relieved and giggled at the memory.
We went back to the airport to meet Oli and Peter two days later. Oli was my special boy when he left, only three years old. I had looked after him for a couple of hours every weekend since he was tiny. We had played in playgrounds, cooked together and read books. We made a treasure hunt for him to show his parents, made a car out of a box for him to play with, and plotted mischief on more than one occasion. We skyped at least weekly in the first few years, but in recent years my focus on skype slowly shifted to Maggie and I engaged with Oli less. He’s nearly nine and doesn’t remember living in Australia, though he does remember a few events here such as looking at the stars with his dad and being evacuated from their house when there was an electrical fire above his roof one night, making their house uninhabitable for several months.
I’ve seen Oli a few times since the airport pickup. I have not known what to say to an eight-year old boy. I asked him questions about his first day at school the other day; what he remembers of his old house; what he watched on the plane and what he did with his cousins. He has been polite. It reminded me of how disinterested I was as a child when adults asked those predictable questions as an attempt at conversation.
I think I’ll try another tack. I won’t bug him with Twenty Questions, instead I’ll take him on a bike ride; do some cooking with him; help him with his homework. My goal is to get past this politeness and rediscover the mischievous spark again.
Rhea and Lara adore Maggie already: Lara said that she wanted to live next door and Rhea didn’t want to go home last time we went to their house and the girls ended up having dinner with Oli.
Having the extra support has lifted my mood somewhat too. I think we will both be cultivating that fine balance between closeness and space that we need between each other, twins perhaps more so than ordinary siblings, a different dance now that we are both in the same town.
There are many dances for my sister’s family to re-learn. Dances for family, friends, community, familiarity, change, work, routine, nature, bike riding, the seasons, children, play.
Dances for coming home.
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