Finding Abby

24

Mum fidgets her fingers in the folds of her skirt but only looks at me briefly. "Good. I mean ... it's not my place to ... I'm sure you're perfectly capable of looking after yourself ... "

I twist my mouth to the side.

Mum goes to stand up, but I grab her hand this time, not wanting to stop talking. "Hey, while we're on the topic—"

"Jenna. I ..."

I chuckle at her awkwardness, but she sits back down, perched on the edge of the bed.

"It's just that ... can we talk about stuff like this now?" I ask.

Mum's eyes are wandering over my face. "It's not really something I feel comfortable—"

"As friends, Mum. Because I'd like to, and I know all about River Phoenix now—"

Mum gives me a small smile.

I nod. "Me and Finn, I know it's nothing like you and Dad—"

This time Mum puts her hand on mine where I'm fidgeting with the edge of my shorts. "Finn is great, Jenna. Is he going to be okay when you're in Queensland?"

"He's sad about it," I admit, thinking about how Finn's mood drops every time I mention that I'm not going to uni in Melbourne anymore and how I'm going to take a year off after exams and live with Ben up in Townsville. Ben says he can get me work at the Marine Science Centre up there and it'll give Mum and me the space apart that we need. And while I'm also sad about leaving Finn, I know this is what I have to do. "Finn wants me to go," I tell Mum. "He doesn't want to be responsible for me missing out on anything."

Mum nods. "Good."

I wonder if this is the right time to talk about the other thing that's on my mind. I'd find out.

"You know I read your diary," I say, testing the waters and when she doesn't tell me to stop, I keep going. "That night ... in the van ... you wrote about how upset you were and how he ... he just walked off when you needed him to be there for you. Did you ever talk to Dad about it?"

Mum takes a breath in. "We didn't ... "

I stay quiet to give her time to work out her words.

"But I always wonder" —Mum rubs at her shining nails and frowns— "whether he was as upset as I was. I mean, we both wanted it to be ... special, you know? I don't remember what I wrote in my diary, but I do remember the panic ... of being worried he'd break up with me and what I'd do if I did. The next day he was a bit distant ... but I wanted to talk about it. I was ready to do that. But then ... we didn't get a chance."

"It must have been hard not knowing how he felt," I say, swallowing down a knot stuck in my throat because I don't know whether Ben has spoken to Mum about what Dad told him. I am positive, however, that it is not my job to tell her or whether she even needs to know.

I can see her hands are shaky and I reach for her, and she squeezes my fingers before withdrawing her hand again.

"Every day it's hard but I'm getting there," she mutters. "And I have to remind myself to ... remember the good things, not the bad things, because ... even after that night, and I know he wasn't perfect. He had his faults. But he was still ... he was ... my best friend."

I lift my eyes to hers. Even though she has tears in her eyes she's looking earnestly at me as if talking about these things is a little easier every day. I'm glad she can see he had his flaws. Because from what I hear, he definitely did. But don't we all. I know I'm not perfect. And in some ways, I wonder if I'm more like my dad than everyone realises. But what's important now, what everyone keeps saying, is giving Mum space to heal and she'll tell me more when she's ready.

"Will you be okay when I'm in Queensland?" I ask.

She crinkles her nose and nods. "I will."

"But will you be able to look after yourself?" I have to ask because I want to make sure I don't have to worry about her. I've got to find myself and find out who I can be now that I don't have any doors to unlock or dark rooms to be afraid of.

"You have a life to live and like Finn says, I don't want you to miss out on anything." She reaches to press her hand to mine. Her fingers are ice-cold and white on my tan skin. "I really want you to live life it to the fullest."

"Thank you," I say, looking down at our hands together before I wrap my arms around her and, even though she stiffens a little, I don't care.

Eventually she wraps her hands around my back and holds me to her. I want to tell her I've missed her all these years, so I do. Because we have to tell each other these things. Because it's so important that we know how much we mean to each other.

And she holds me tight.

And she whispers into my hair that she loves me.