CHAPTER SIXTEEN #3
It only took twenty-nine years and a different body, but I finally received a compliment from my father.
We made it to the final portion of our visit, sitting on the floral lounge while throwing back cocktails until everyone’s presence was bearable. Dad returned to his regular billy goat gruff routine, grilling Nora for being a shit son and dragging up problems from the past.
‘Did he tell you about the drawing in our meeting on Tuesday?’ he huffed.
‘Yes, dear. We already spoke about it at the table, remember?’ Mum patted his arm.
‘A rhino. I mean, honestly. You have to stop with that shit.’ He shook his finger at Nora.
A quick glance confirmed her pursed lips and narrowed eyes, likely deep in thought trying to remember the drawing. I had to hand it to her, she’d handled herself exceptionally well. Especially when Dad admitted he knew he’d shoved me into a job I didn’t want fresh out of high school.
‘If I’m not doing well, then why am I still the finance manager?’ Nora grumbled.
Oof, good one. Except we all knew why. The company was created for generational torment. It would one day be passed down to my own son so he could also suffer, just as every Flemmington since 1937 had.
‘You know exactly why. You need to focus on your future.’
‘Maybe I am,’ she said.
Watching ‘myself’ argue with my father was an out-of-body experience – literally.
I’d never considered a future other than the one Dad had laid out in front of me, but Nora had me questioning where I saw myself in another ten years.
Dad stood, as he always did at exactly ten-thirty on a Friday night, obviously signalling the end of whatever deal Mum struck with him.
‘I’ll be in my office.’ Without another word, he left the room.
Nora darted her gaze to me, and I raised my eyebrows with a subtle nod in approval.
Next to her, Luke watched us with curiosity.
He’d have a fucking field day turning this into a TV show.
Steven left before cocktail hour, and Ben curled up in a ball on the rug like the family dog, complete with drool dripping from his mouth.
‘Well, we best be off. We’ve got a busy day tomorrow.’ I tilted my head the way I’d seen Nora do when she wanted to appear polite.
Mum hurried around the kitchen filling containers with leftovers and piling them into Nora’s large arms, reminding her that next week we’d have roast pork, my favourite. If I was silent enough, I could hear her begging the universe to switch our bodies back so she wouldn’t need to return.
Once we’d been released from Flemmington Prison, we sat lifelessly in my car, Nora yet to even put the keys in the ignition. Silence lingered like a stalking predator waiting to make its move.
‘Wow, your dad’s a piece of work,’ she finally managed.
‘I like to think of us as an unopened porcelain giftset. We look great from the outside. Neatly packaged, even a perfectly tied bow for decoration. But inside, we’ve been shaken into sharp pieces.’
Nora’s large hand reached for mine, the same as before we’d entered the lion’s den, but she must have deemed two hand holds too much for one evening because she detoured and grabbed her phone.
‘Kinda explains why you’re the way you are,’ she said.
‘And how am I, exactly?’
‘Are you sure you want me to answer that?’ Nora grinned, the smugness of my own face like a different person.
I shook my head. Letting Nora see my family was like taking off a piece of clothing. I was bare. More vulnerable than knowing she occupied my body, for God’s sake.
‘Your mum is lovely, though. Like… really lovely. Loving, nurturing…’ her voice trailed off.
‘Yours isn’t?’ I guessed.
‘Well, my mum is lovely. And caring. And she… she just wants to make sure I have a good life because I worked for it. You know? One that can’t be taken away by someone else.
But then I met my friend Hayley a few years ago, and she’s one of those people that loves love.
It got me thinking, surely there’s a balance out there. I don’t know, maybe it’s impossible…’
Her voice trailed off again, and I opened my mouth to prod for more information, but her gaze bounced around the car before settling on her phone for a distraction.
She was as confused about her own personal code of conduct as I was.
A code we were trying to decipher and find the middle ground of what we wanted and what we could achieve.
Nora gasped as she stared at her phone. ‘I found it,’ she whispered. ‘Look.’ She turned the phone to me.
A video played on the screen with thousands of likes, and there in the background stood a blurry figure holding my umbrella. I’d recognise it anywhere. What I couldn’t recognise, though, was the location. ‘I’m not sure where this video was taken. How do we find out?’
Nora’s toes tapped the floor as she grinned. The news reporter is standing in a supermarket I’ve been to loads of times. It’s out at Katoomba.’
A swarm of bees buzzed through my body and our wide eyes stared at each other with hope, then dropped to the curved mark on our palms.
This was it.
An hour and a half drive and we could switch back.