Page 96 of Just Say (Hell) No
“Oh,” Carol-Anne said. “So your mum is…”
“Not married,” Ella said. “Not anymore, if that’s what you mean. My dad’s not around.” She glanced at Marko.
He said, “My family’s around, though. Ella’s uncle and aunt and grandmother, and all the rest of us as well.” Did Adrian ever talk, he wondered? Not much of a business type if he didn’t. Or lawyer. Lawyers always talked, in his experience.
“Well,” Carol-Anne said, “anybody can make a mistake, can’t they. So your family is…” She looked between Marko and Ella. For what?
“Sheep farmers,” Ella said. “Merino. That’s what most of my family is, anyway. My mum’s a vet tech. Large animal.”
Adrian said, his hand covering his wife’s, “That certainly sounds wholesome, doesn’t it?” So hecouldtalk. He smiled and said, “The truth is, Ella, we’re a bit nervous. Ask us anything you like. This is a two-way street.”
“Oh, of course,” Carol-Anne said. “Please. So—family. Us. Both Adrian and I come from big families, which is why twins are so exciting. I have three brothers, and Adrian has two, so you see, it’s perfect. We have space for the babies, which I’m sure you’re concerned about. Two bedrooms just waiting for them. We took the furniture out of the guest room already, we were so excited. We decorated the nursery, you know, and then… well, it’s been empty, and now…” She stopped, took a breath, and tried to smile, and Marko thought,That’s all right, then.“We both grew up in Auckland,” she went on, “so the babies would have grandparents, aunts and uncles, cousins around. All sorts of family.”
“That’s good,” Ella said. “But I read that twins do better if they’re in the same cot. They’re used to being together, so they sort of… calm each other down. They’re kind of like… almost the same person, like they need to touch each other. At least, that’s what I read.”
Carol-Anne said, “Well, there’s time for us to decide all that, isn’t there?’ with a tight little smile that made Marko sit up straighter.
Ella looked at Marko, and he said, “You know that twins can be born early, be more likely to need extra time in hospital. Preemies, eh.”
“We know,” Carol-Anne said, leaning forward a little in her earnestness. “We’re prepared for that. Any baby can have problems. We just want one. Or… two.”
Silence, again. Marko could have filled it, asked another question. Instead, he waited.
At last, Carol-Anne said, “As we’re all here and this is our chance, Ella, tell us about the baby’s dad. Is he all good with this idea as well? The adoption?”
“Yeh,” Ella said. She was running her thumbs over her fingertips, glancing at Marko, then away again. Nyree was sitting quietly, watching and listening, and Marko realized that he wanted to know—neededto know—what color these people were. He’d ask her, after. Ella went on, “He knows he has to sign and everything. I could just not put his name down at all, and then he wouldn’t have to sign, but the babies need to know where they come from, their people and all. My grandmother was saying that. Nyree said it as well, because she’s Maori, but my grandmother said the same thing.”
“Oh,” Carol-Anne said. “Well, obviously, we’d make that information available to them when they’re older. We do understand open adoption. Is your grandmother Maori, then? I didn’t see that. Although that’s fine,” she hastened to say.
“No,” Ella said. The thumbs were going at double speed now. “But the baby’s dad is Samoan. Half. I guess you know that, though. His mum’s Pakeha, but his dad’s from the islands. Does that matter?”
“No,” Adrian said. “It doesn’t. They’re boys. Tall, if you’re anything to go by,” he told Marko. “Tall’s good for boys, and so is strong.”
“Tall girls are bad?” Ella asked. “Strong girls?”
“No!” Carol-Anne said. “Of course not. Just… it can be awkward for girls, can’t it, if they’retootall. And big. Samoan wouldn’t be the best for that, would it?”
“But since you’re not having girls,” Adrian said, “the point is moot.” Definitely a lawyer.
“Andyou’rewhite, anyway,” Carol-Anne said. “So it’s not really an issue.”
The words dropped into the room with all the buoyancy of a weight stack falling in the gym. Ella had gone completely still, and on Marko’s other side, so had Nyree. As for Marko? He was breathing. In. Out.
“Pardon?” Ella finally asked.
“Oh,” Carol-Anne said. “I just meant—obviously, you’ll want the boys adopted into a family that shares your culture. Which we do. Three quarters, anyway, which is close enough. Basque is good. Basque isfine.Spain, France. That’s fine.”
A long, long silence, with the couple looking at each other, then away again. Carol-Anne had her mouth open to say something, but Ella got there first. “My grandmother is Aborigine,” she said. “So not really.”
This time, the weight stack dropped through the floor. “You mean,” Carol-Anne said, “Aborigine as in… what? Maori? But you said… the information we got said…”
“As in Noongar,” Ella said. “As in Australia. As inAborigine.So I don’t think you exactly share my culture.”
They were at a random café in Albany, and Marko still didn’t know what to do. It wasn’t a feeling he experienced much. He wasn’t enjoying it.
At the too-neat house in Orewa, the decision had been easy. Ella had stood up like a jack-in-the-box, Nyree had stood with her, and Marko had told Carol-Anne and Adrian, “We’ll let you know. But I don’t think so.”
Carol-Anne had kept talking, and Ella had kept walking. They’d headed to the car in silence, and when Ella had climbed into the back seat, Nyree had handed Marko the keys and said, “Drive.”
