Page 102 of Power Moves
I slide my hand into my pocket, feeling the cool edges of the photograph like it’s a secret talisman. Since Mum died, I’ve hustled as hard as I could, telling myself I was trying to finally make her proud. But there was a more insidious reason too. I kept myself busy, constantly looking for the next task and deadline, so I didn’t have to stop and feel a pain that was magnified by my guilt.
As I slide the Wimbledon placemats back into the box and return to the living room to find Jessie, it occurs to me that maybe now is the time to stop trying so hard. Maybe it’s time to let the universe deliver a few unforced errors in my favour?
?
I locate Jessie pouring our gum-leaf table decorations out the window into the garden bed below.
‘Jessie, I’m so sorry for what I said about your job,’ I say, crossing the room to her as she shakes the water from the last of the glass jars.
When she turns to face me, her head is haloed by the evening sun. ‘Dude, don’t worry.’
‘No, Jess. What I said was so shit. I realise that and I’m so, so sorry. It’s like I had to reach peak douchebag before I could realise how much I’ve been taking you and Dad and Maxy for granted.’
Jessie wraps her arms around me. ‘Don’t stress, Millsy-moo. You haven’t been that bad.’
‘Not ten dicks out of ten?’
Jessie squeezes me tighter. ‘Maybe seven.’
I sob-laugh and nuzzle deeper into her embrace as her mermaid hair finds ingenious ways to insert itself into my nostrils. As we cling to each other, I hope with all the desperation in my heart that she understands that every time I call her to chat about fashion or food or work, I’m calling because I want to hear her voice, because there’s no one else I’d rather listen to, or be listened to by, and that I’ve only ever wanted to be her best friend and make her proud.
‘Actually!’ Jessie exclaims, pulling away. ‘In all this drama, I forgot: Iamsuper pissed with you.’
‘What?! Why?’
‘You didn’t tell me about your creepy boss!’
At that moment, Maxy arrives at the door. He grimaces. ‘Shall I moonwalk out?’
‘You told her?!’
Jessie crosses her arms. ‘So yeah, now that you mention it, youarein my bad books.’
‘I can never win!’
‘No, you can’t,’ sniffs Jessie. ‘Maxy and I will always beat you because we have been alive longer and are therefore much wiser. That’s why you have to trust us, dumbarse. You needto talk to us so we can help you. Not because we think you’re incompetent—but because we love you. If anything, I baby Maxy way more than I baby you. I still text him after every night shift to check he gets home okay, and I still post him those free NRL cards I get from Coles.’
‘That obviously doesn’t leave this room,’ mutters Maxy.
‘My point is,’ Jessie continues, ‘we’re family, Mill, so stop with the secrets. It doesn’t make you stronger to deal with stuff by yourself.’
I nod slowly. ‘Okay. So, full disclosure … the Digital Revolution budget has majorly blown out and—’
‘No!’ Jessie covers her ears with her hands. At Maxy she hisses, ‘If she starts talking about the policy advice, knock me unconscious!’
I laugh. ‘No need! I’m leaving now. I’ve got to organise a press conference with the Prime Minister.’
Jessie and Maxy share a look, and I feel a familiar, pleasurable pang of irritation. Some things change but some things never do. My siblings will never stop looking out for me, and that will never stop making me feel like the luckiest, most exasperated girl in the world.
As I leave the room, Maxy calls out, ‘If you need me to egg your boss’s house, I’m only a phone call away.’
‘You’re a winkipop,’ I call back, smiling. ‘But don’t worry, I’ll be fine.’ And I know I will be because even though she’s gone, Mum’s advice is always with me.
You don’t always have to try to beat them. Sometimes, they beat themselves.
CHAPTER 49
I’ve gifted myself a day off from spin class and the results are dazzling. The whole apartment is sprinkled with the peachy-pink light of pre-dawn, dappled through the leaves of the Moreton Bay fig trees that line the street. The kettle beside the sink bubbles cheerfully, mimicking the morning warble of the birds outside. I’ve already drafted today’s talking points and ironed my new trousers. As I pull on my outfit, I half-expect a trio of bluebirds to flit through the windows and offer to dress me.
