Page 124 of Perfectly Wild

Samuel walks the esplanade path and is surprised to see a message from Eden letting him know she’s still at Monte apartments with her parents.

He takes the stairs and opens the door. Eden and her parents remain at the kitchen table and are deep in discussion.

“Is everything okay?”

Eden turns, wiping her red eyes. “Hey. We just got news.”

His stomach tightens. “What happened?” He sits beside Eden and wraps an arm around her waist.

“Do you remember when I visited Brenda in the nursing home?” Samuel nods. “She passed away yesterday. Her brother-in-law called to let Mum know and to also tell her they found some photos in her belongings they suspected belonged to Gran.”

Samuel looks to her father. His expression sags. Grace gives him a nod. “There are photos of a baby.” Grace wipes a tear from her eyes. “We have so much history we never knew about, and it’s hard to take it all in.”

“Samuel,” Eden says and touches his leg. “I told Dad about the baby Gran lost and how Kaikare ended up in Ulara. It’s so sad to know how everything would have turned out if Gran didn’t return to say goodbye to the shaman.”

“What if…” Samuel murmurs, “… is one of the hardest things to accept in life.”

He lives with speculation every day.

55

EDEN

Brenda’s wake is small and intimate.

Mum is by my side under the shade of a gum tree near the door of a small service room in the same gardens where she’s buried. Garden, I repeat, not cemetery—it’s an ugly word in my head.

Gran and Pop were cremated and had asked for their remains to be released over the ocean near Monte Hotels, an ocean where they’d spent their lives pondering decisions and life choices. A place where we all connected as a family. Later, we celebrated Gran’s life at the apartment with her close friends and our family.

I recall Brenda wearing red shoes when she attended Gran’s funeral. It’s the one thing that stuck in my mind. Another woman commented it was disrespectful and a sign of a festive vibe, not sadness. Brenda agreed and said to Mum it’s how she remembered her friend and their good times together. She was celebrating Ivy’s life.

I down the last of the champagne in my crystal flute.

“Would you like another?”

“I think I do.”

“Come on,” Mum urges. “We should go inside and give our condolences to the family.”

“The last time I visited Brenda, she thought I was Gran. She said a few things to me as though she was reliving old times.”

“Did she tell you anything believable?” Mum takes my flute, places it on the table, and grabs two more.

“Little things like Albert will come around. And I shouldn’t feel guilty. I had a wonderful adventure. I’m not surealmost dyingclassifies as that, but she understood Gran and supported her one hundred percent.”

“Here’s to Brenda.” Mum clinks my glass. She turns to a photograph propped on a stand of a younger Brenda as a nurse. “Their friendship was special.”

“It’s final, you know. A door for more information has closed.”

“Oh, honey.” Mum wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me closer. “Not closed. Brenda had Alzheimer’s, and some of what she told you might not be true. Besides, your father is yet to open his box. He will. And Thomas is yet to give me the photos Brenda kept.” Mum downs her champagne like a pro and takes my hand. “Let’s speak to Thomas.”

I wave at the staff I recognize from the nursing home before standing in the outer circle of Brenda’s family. I assume some are children and grandchildren, and others might be related to her late husband.

Thomas comes to stand by Mum. “Thank you for coming,” he says to both of us. He has aged since I last saw him. Maybe I didn’t notice his gray hair until today.

“We’re thankful for the invite.” I let go of Mum’s arm.

“I don’t have the photos on me, although I can swing by your home and drop them off tomorrow.”

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