Nev got out of Reg’s truck. She had showered and combed her hair. She looked fussy and posh in her jackaroo boots and button-down work shirt, and frowned. “I’ve been demoted. Don’t look so excited to see me. I got roped into this. Did I miss surfing?”
Ronnie laughed, then felt self-conscious about how grunge she must look barefoot in board shorts. Her wet hair was a mess, and she had sand in her arm hair.
“Hiya babe.” She squished Nev against her chest, accidentally drowning the shorter woman in boobs. “Come meet my mates.”
Nev shook hands with Mikey. “G’day, g’day. How ya going?”
Mikey looked impressed. Some of the others smiled. One snickered.
Nev jammed her hands in her pockets. “Did you tell them about the thing?”
Ronnie was confused until she remembered.
“I have a hearing in front of a judge tomorrow.” Why was it so hard to talk about? “I’m trying to get more time with Rainbow. They might give me my parental rights back. You know, legally.”
Her friends stared at her blankly for a minute, then jumped up grinning when they understood. “Aw, mate! Good luck! You’ve got this!” They piled out of the camper to hug her. They were big on bear hugs.
“I’ll let you know how it goes.”
Mikey had to pick up Jesse and decided to drive her own car to Lionheart.
Nev held out her palm for the keys. “I can drive. I’m fresh.”
“Nah, that’s all right,” Ronnie said. “I like to.”
Nev tossed her a bottle of ibuprofen from the passenger seat. “How was church?”
In the driver’s seat Ronnie’s back was making it hard to think, but other than that she was high on happy brain chemicals from pushing her body past the point of exhaustion two days in a row. She searched for words to explain this feeling to someone who had never surfed before.
“It was exactly what I needed. The ocean puts shit into perspective.” The ocean was scary, but it wasn’t stressed. It was peaceful out there, even when it was about to crush you, rip your board away, snap it in two, drown you, or eat you alive. “No one explained to me what was going on when I gave her up. I feel like they tricked me.”
Nev frowned at the road.
“I knew I was in a shitty situation. If she was adopted, she would be safe with a family screened by social workers. She’d grow up better than I was. I thought I could save her from something, like a real mum would, you know. I thought she had a future with Mr. and Mrs. big house in Brissie. When they asked if I wanted to apply to keep her with me in a different detention facility, I thought… I don’t know what. I thought she would be better off outside, I guess. I should have kept her with me. If they told me she would be with Maude, I would have kept her with me and gone wherever they were threatening to send us. At least we would have had each other.”
“Pull over,” Nev said.
Ronnie parked in the breakdown lane. Nev stepped out, lit up.
Maude won. She always said she would.
Not being able to protect your kid was hell. There was nothing rational about it. Ronnie had gotten better at pouring sand into a sieve. Therapy helped.
Nev got back in the truck, smelling like an ashtray. Ronnie checked the mirrors and eased out into traffic. “Sorry for oversharing.”
Nev watched the cars. “A lot of people made mistakes.”
“Budget cuts,” Ronnie said.
“Budget cuts,” Nev agreed.
“I should volunteer at a place like that, coach soccer or some faff. I would, but I’m too much of a coward.”
“It’s five hours away.”
The closest one, usually. At the moment one was fifteen minutes away. “It’s still bad there. Kids are neglected. When you’re inside, the world is a cement wall. Home isn’t necessarily something you want. The government is the ultimate arsehole authority figure.” An abstract idea. “Queensland incarcerated you. Queensland is rehabilitating you. Queensland will give you another chance. Queensland has procedures in place to support you after your release… I didn’t want to live here. I didn’t think I belonged anywhere. They really mess with you, make you think you shouldn’t exist.”
“You belong everywhere, Dain’y. Home is a feeling you carry inside you.”
