Page 97 of Special Delivery
‘So what Ireallymean to say is, thank you. For your help. I will get dressed and come straight in. Right now. Thank you. And good day.’
Poppy ended the call.Ugh!Could she be a bigger loser?! She sighed and carried her daughter into her bedroom, where she lay her on the carpet (Maeve immediately began to wail) and quickly changed into her cleanest jeans and jumper. Her brain might still not be fully functional post-birth, but she was going to remember to wear clothes to this appointment, thank you very much.
As she started the car, Poppy spoke to the phone resting in the console. ‘Siri, call Dar Nee.’
When life served her disasters in the form of accidental nude phone calls to infuriatingly handsome midwives, there was no other voice she’d rather hear.
‘Hello?’ Dani answered cautiously.
Poppy felt a bittersweet surge in her heart: the joy of hearing her best friend’s voice; the self-inflicted pain of knowing it had been so long. ‘Dan, I’m so glad you picked up,’ Poppy said in a rush. ‘I’m so sorry for everything. I’m sorry for being such a selfish brat, I’m sorry for not realising, I’m sorry for leaving it so long before I called, and most of all I’m so unbelievably sorry that I became someone who you thought wouldn’t listen. You’ve been my lifeline this year, Dan, and since I met you really, and I honestly feel so, so stupid for taking that for granted. And now I’m prattling on like a tool and I haven’t even asked about Sam’s mum. How is she? I really hope she’s okay. I understand if you don’t want to talk about it, especially not with me, but I really want to know.’
Poppy slowed for the traffic lights, her mouth suddenly dry with fear. She really hoped Dani had understood that drivel.
‘Sam’s mum isn’t great,’ said Dani eventually. ‘They’re hopeful the radiation will work this time and she won’t have to do chemo again, but she’s scared and so is Sam. It’s shit.’
‘Oh, Dan,’ said Poppy quietly. ‘I’m so sorry. For all of you. That must be really hard.’
Outside, the streets blurred past. Poppy wished, not for the first time, that she could teleport to Sydney. ‘If you need any help—someone to babysit Nella while you and Sam go toappointments, or someone to make dinners or clean the toilets or do the laundry—I can jump in the car and be there in four hours. You know I’d drop everything to help, right?’
Dani sighed. ‘Of course, Pops. I know that.’
Poppy could feel herself choking up as she flicked on her indicator. ‘I’d do anything for you and Sam and Nella, Dan. Like, I dunno, maybe I could do the laundry?’
‘Yeah, you mentioned that.’
Poppy felt the tears erode her last vestiges of self-control and she sob-laughed. ‘Dan, I’ve missed you so much.’
‘Same, Pops. Life has been way too boring without you. Yesterday my Uber driver had a photo of Em Rata on his dash and tried to convince me they were cousins and oh my god, I almost peed myself it was so funny, but it also made me sad because I couldn’t tell you.’
‘What the hell?’ cried Poppy. ‘Of course you could have told me, you ninny; it breaks my heart that you thought you couldn’t. But also, was this guy some kind of Polish–Israeli Adonis? Because if not, how on earth could he be related to Em Rata?’
‘I know, right! As if a pasty old bald guy with a flavour saver could be related to Em Rata! That would contravene every theory of evolution.’
‘Totally! And incidentally, I’ve never understood the appeal of flavour savers unless you’re a Shannon Noll impersonator, and I’m not even sure that’s a legitimate job.’
‘Hundred per cent!’ Dani laughed. ‘Are you driving somewhere?’
‘Yeah. Maeve’s got an appointment at the community health centre.’
‘Is she okay?’
Poppy felt the panicky word vomit in her throat—Maeve’s first sickness! She only had one bottle of baby Panadol in the house! There were so many things that could go wrong!—but she swallowed it down. This was nothing compared to what Sam and his mum were going through. ‘She’ll be fine,’ Poppy said, keeping her voice steady. ‘A few viral things, I think, but nothing to worry about hopefully.’
Dani was quiet, possibly considering whether to ask for more information. In the end she said, ‘Okay, my dear, call me when you’re done. I’m glad the band is back together.’
Poppy stifled another happy sob. ‘Me too, Dan. I love you.’
‘Love you too, Pops.’
Dani hung up and Poppy slowed as she drove through a school zone littered with clumps of teenagers in maroon uniforms. She was so lucky to have found Dani. A friend whose voice could calm you even when they were shrieking about baby goats on TikTok was a gift. And a friend who could lift you even when they were completely silent on the other end of the phone line was even rarer. Poppy had a best friend who could do both and she was never going to forget how lucky she was again.
Arriving at the community health clinic with four minutes to spare, Poppy parked the pram in the waiting room and held Maeve in her arms while her daughter snorted streams of elastic snot. Eventually Maeve’s name was called by a grey-haired man with a receding hairline who introduced himself as Dr Gutherson.
The appointment was a wholly unsatisfying experience. Dr Gutherson told her genially not to worry about thegastro—‘There’ll be much more to come!’—and prescribed only a warm face washer for the conjunctivitis. As Maeve sat on her left knee grabbing at the stethoscope while Dr Gutherson leaned over to check her heartbeat, Poppy glanced up at the ceiling. On the other side of that gyprock barrier was the second floor of the hospital, and on the second floor of the hospital was the maternity ward. In that maternity ward were midwives: chatting, laughing, delivering babies. And one of those midwives would be going about his business fully aware that Poppy and Maeve were here. He could take the stairs, a right and a left, and come face to face with Poppy.
When the appointment ended, Poppy thanked Dr Gutherson and tried to slide Maeve into the pram. Her daughter glared at her accusingly and began to wail. Poppy tried singing quietly to shush her but Maeve continued thrashing her head against the pram liner.
‘You’ll find she’ll be more clingy than usual,’ said Dr Gutherson, handing Poppy a brochure appropriately titledGastro Passes.
