Chapter 12
Tiddas chat 3
14 August 2023
Brynn:
Tell me what’s up at home? I’m a bit homesick.
Bridie:
It’s boring here. No news. Oh, but I blocked Jacq on everything: family honour!
Dotty:
@Bridie LIES. Bridie does have news. She went on a date with Damo Clarke. You know, that pretty Noongar fulla Aunty Pat said would be a good catch? He’s gonna be a doctor...
Brynn:
Did you touch his budoo yet?
Bridie:
No, but that might be because I actually like him. I kind of want to wait. Is that weird?
Dotty:
It is for you tidda.
‘So, what did you and Scarlett Belle get up to when you left the party the other night?’
Corey and I are sitting in a booth at the Midnight Diner with a feast of burgers, fries, and milkshakes in front of us. I have just worked my seventh day straight and Corey came home and declared that she needed a burger after a hectic Monday running around after some Disney teen star. She’s operating on no sleep after a weekend away in Toronto and there’s a chance she’ll be called back to work later tonight. The teen is apparently into partying and Corey’s in charge of maintaining her wholesome image while she’s in town.
‘What about Scarlett?’ I ask, after finishing a delicious bite of my burger.
‘The two of you seemed to hit it off. Is there anything you’d, ah, like to tell me?’
‘She’s nice,’ I answer. ‘We chatted for a bit, danced for a bit, and then we shared a cab home.’
‘And?’
Confusion washes over me. ‘Wait, did it look like I was into her? And is she ...?’
‘Yes, a little. And yes, very?’ she answers. ‘Sorry, it’s just we never talk about stuff like that, and I’d just assumed that you were straight, which I shouldn’t, I know. But then I saw you with Scarlett and I thought maybe there was something there.’
‘There’s friendship there,’ I say, though even as I speak, my hand tingles the way it had in the cab on the way home the other night. ‘Just like with you.’
She pouts. ‘I’m supposed to be your only New York friend.’
‘Says the girl who knows everyone at every bar and party we go to. You have about a thousand friends. And besides, you’re all so busy I barely see any of you.’
‘You can talk, my friend—you’re never in the apartment these days. What’s going on with you?’
‘Dogue’s, Dogue’s and more Dogue’s,’ I say. ‘But I’ve been doing some of the missions my mum left for me, so I’ve seen a fair bit of the city in the last little while.’
‘Wait, missions?’
‘I didn’t tell you about them?’ I ask, and she shakes her head. ‘So, you know my mum died at the start of the year?’
She nods, her eyes downcast.
‘Well,’ I continue, ‘she left me this list of missions to do, kind of like a scavenger hunt of New York.’
Corey’s face lights up. ‘Oooh, fun! What sorts of missions are there?’
‘Um, so this week I’ve joined the New York Public Library and spent a few hours working in the reading room, which was fun. I’ve spent all day reading in a diner, and been for a walk around the gardens at Gracie Mansion.’ I loved visiting the beautifully kept park—it serves as the grounds of the historic home where the mayor lives.
‘And what have you got left?’
‘Oh, there’s heaps. She’s basically given me a whole year’s worth of things. Some of them are big, like, well, moving to New York; and others are just silly things like buying a book or making small talk with a stranger.’
‘Are there any that I can do with you?’ she asks, and I love her so much in that moment.
‘Of course! I don’t have the list on me right now, but when we get home I’ll get it out and we can find some together.’
‘That would be so cool.’ She takes a bite of her burger and as she’s chewing, she keeps looking at me with a weird look on her face.
‘What?’
She swallows, wipes her mouth with a napkin and then bites her lip. ‘Will you tell me about her?’
‘My mum?’
‘Yeah,’ Corey says. ‘Okay, so I’m going to say something that will sound really fuckin’ awful, but I hope you’ll understand what I mean. I’ve been sitting here trying to work out how to tell you that I’m ... Well, I guess I’m a bit jealous of your relationship with her. Like, she’s gone and she’s still this huge, important part of your life and it’s obvious she cares about you so much. Like, present tense cares about you.’
‘You’re jealous? Does that mean ...’
‘My mom’s a bit shit,’ she says, looking down at her plate. ‘And, look, it’s not her fault, trauma’s a bitch. But sometimes I just want her to show some interest in what I’ve done with my life.’
‘That’s why you don’t talk about her?’
‘Yeah,’ she replies softly.
‘What about your dad?’
She brightens. ‘Oh, he’s the best. He’s an elementary school teacher and he’s so good with kids. He loves books and video games and all the stuff they’re into, and he’s the sort of teacher you want, right? Like, he makes sure the books his students are reading are diverse and teaches history the way it actually happened.’
‘Wow, I wish I’d had a teacher like him.’
‘Right? I was so lucky to have him because he always made sure that I was learning the right stuff.’
‘Are your folks together?’
She pushes a fry around her plate. ‘No, they split up when I was about six. I lived with my dad. But ninety-nine per cent of the “come home urgently” calls I get are from Mom, and it’s because she needs help cleaning her house or she’s going to get evicted—or she’s already been evicted. That one was fun because she’s a literal hoarder.’
‘Really?’
‘Yeah, like, not quite so bad that she’ll show up on TV any time soon, but that’s mostly because I go out there and do the clean-out before things get to eviction level. It’s why I’m the worst in the world; I’m the awful daughter who lives in America who only comes home to throw out her precious mouldy newspapers and rotten food.’
The diner is busy and noisy with people raising their voices to be heard over radio and silverware scraping on plates, but our little booth feels close and intimate. I reach across the table and touch her hand. ‘Oh Corey, I’m so sorry. That’s really tough. But you’re a good daughter, even if she can’t see it.’
She smiles sadly. ‘Yeah, I know. It’s her illness that hates me not her, but still.’
‘It sucks. And maybe this will sound as weird as that thing you said before, but you can a hundred per cent share my mum. Even though she’s, you know ... dead.’
Corey shoots me a horrified look until she realises that I’m smiling at her. ‘Oh, fuck me, that’s morbid,’ she says but laughs too.
‘If you can’t laugh, you’ll cry right?’
On the table, Corey’s phone vibrates and she turns it over. ‘Speaking of crying, I’m being summoned by my Disney Princess now.’ She throws a couple of bills down on the table—enough to pay for my food as well.
‘I’ll save some missions for you,’ I tell her. ‘If I’ve got time off on the weekend let’s go and do them.’
She leans over and gives me a hug, awkward with the shape of the booth, but I feel a genuine connection with her. My sister from another similar set of traumas and complications. I only wish Mum was here to take Corey under her wing as well.