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We go through the McDonald’s drive through, and Jemima gets her usual breakfast meal, including a chai latte, while I get a coffee, a bottle of water, and a stack of hash browns.
We’re quiet as we make our way out of the city. We briefly discuss the presents we bought for Mum, making sure we didn’t get the same thing. The radio plays pop music with intermittent traffic and weather updates, as well as obnoxiously noisy ads.
Soon enough, we’re out of the city, zooming on the highway past farms and suburbs in development. I settle myself in for a long drive — it’s almost six hours to Maryford, so I might as well use the time to sleep.
*
It’s only after spending months in Melbourne that I can appreciate how beautiful my hometown is. There are trees everywhere — tall eucalyptus in the parks, oak trees lining streets, pine farms on the outskirts of town. We pass the train station, which is made of red brick and reminds me of the grand stations in books set in England.
It’s late afternoon by the time we arrive home. After Jemima parks in the driveway, she lets out a sigh of relief. “Thank god we’re finally here.”
“Thanks for driving me,” I say as I scan the house. It’s quiet — Mum and Dad are at work, and Nate’ll be at school.
I follow Jemima up the front steps of the porch to the front door. Our family house is a typical farmhouse, with big square windows, a wraparound porch and a brown doormat that reads home is where the heart is.
Jemima unlocks the front door, and we step inside, the wooden floorboards creaking.
“I’m taking a nap,” Jemima announces, dragging her mini suitcase behind her to the back of the house, where her bedroom is located. “Wake me up when the others get home.”
“Sure,” I say. I head to the kitchen and drink some water, then grab a few apples to snack on.
Afterwards, I go to my bedroom. It’s the smallest one, tucked next to the laundry. Mum and Dad have the master, and Jemima and Nate’s are the same size, both bigger than mine. Jemima got a big room because she’s the oldest, and Nate’s the youngest so he’s always gotten nice things.
I fall onto my bed and text Cleo.
Charlie: Arrived home :)
*
“How nice is this?” Mum asks at dinner. “We’re finally all together.” We sit around the table in our usual seats. Mum at the head of the table, Dad beside her, and Jemima on the other side. Nate and I take the remaining seats.
Nate arrived from school at four after taking the bus home. Strangely enough, he seemed pretty happy to see me. During my teenage years, he always acted too cool to hang out with me, but this afternoon he ushered me into his room and showed me stocks and cryptocurrency stuff on his computer I didn’t really understand. I listened anyway and was secretly pleased at the fact that maybe he kind of missed me.
Mum and Dad arrived home at six. Mum’s a nurse and Dad’s a financial planner, and even though they both looked tired, they quickly changed out of their work clothes and got dinner ready.
“Are you excited to turn a year older tomorrow, Mum?” Nate asks while helping himself to a large amount of garden salad.
“Not at all,” Mum says. “As far as I’m aware, it’s not my birthday at all. It’s just a celebration of me.”
“How old are you turning again?” Nate asks and taps his chin as he pretends to think. “Is it fifty…”
“Hush,” Mum says, waving a hand in his face. “You know a lady never reveals her age.”
“In my opinion, you don’t look a day over thirty-five,” Dad says.
“Stop that,” Mum says, failing to stifle a smile.
Dinner goes by quickly as we talk a lot, updating each other on our lives. Afterwards, Jemima and I load everything into the dishwasher as the eldest siblings, while Nate jumps onto the couch. Mum and Dad follow him, and they discuss what TV show they want to watch tonight.
When Jemima and I join them, they’ve settled on a rerun of MasterChef. It’s just like old times, including the frozen berries we munch on as dessert.
That night, after having a shower and changing into my pyjamas, I climb into bed. Cleo hasn’t responded yet, so I call her. She doesn’t pick up. I call again — no answer. Oh well, she’s probably busy. It’s a Friday night, after all, so I bet she’ll be out with her friends, drinking fancy cocktails on a rooftop bar or something like that.
In the end, I send her a goodnight text and then go to sleep.
*
The following evening, my family goes out to the Golden Orchid for Mum’s birthday dinner. It’s the typical kind of nice restaurant in a small town. Nothing that would hold up against highly rated places in the city, but it has high ceilings, soft piano music playing from speakers and thick white tablecloths. Mum’s wearing a bright blue dress while Jemima’s hair is covered in hair clips. Dad wears a checkered button up shirt, I wear a polo shirt Mum bought me for Christmas last year, and Nate wears a t-shirt with a hole in the armpit because he’s Nate. He’ll wear thousand-dollar sneakers but refuses to change into something more appropriate for dinner.
