Tiddas by Anita Heiss Page A

was okay, and that everything between them was all right. But nobody really believed that it was. As she walked out of the café, Xanthe knew the women would still be talking.
    Back at the table, Veronica turned to Izzy. ‘Why haven’t you told the father?’ she asked seriously.
    â€˜I don’t know if I should.’
    â€˜Of course you should,’ Veronica answered, as if it were a no-brainer.
    â€˜But . . . if I’m not going to have the baby, does he even need to know?’ Izzy didn’t know the answer; all she knew was that she was glad that Xanthe had left. ‘What should I do?’ She looked at Nadine.
    â€˜You should talk to your mother; she’s the wisest woman you know. She mightn’t like me, but I respect her and know she’ll have whatever answers you need.’
    â€˜Mum likes you,’ Izzy said, only half convincingly, unwilling to offer ‘love’ as the emotion Trish might feel for her daughter-in-law. Izzy also wanted to shift the subject away from calling her mother, which she was sure would not end well.
    Nadine brushed off Izzy’s reply. Whether or not her mother-in-law liked her didn’t matter that much when she lived so far away. ‘The thing is, mothers are good to talk to about these things. And yours will be the same. I know, and don’t shout me down, I would be devastated if Brit thought she couldn’t come to me with something this big.’
    â€˜And it is big, Izzy, it’s not something you should be dealing with by yourself,’ Veronica said.
    â€˜Yes, it’s your decision, but either way, we’ll be here to support you,’ Ellen reassured her. ‘And Xanthe will come around, it’s just really hard for her right now.’
    Izzy contemplated what it would be like to have the baby by herself, even though she didn’t believe she was emotionally, let alone mentally, equipped to do so. If she raised the baby alone would the child end up hating Asher, like Ellen hated her dad?
    â€˜Do you ever hear about your fath– I mean the arsehole anymore?’ she asked Ellen.
    â€˜No. And Mum never mentions him. He could be dead for all I know. And for all I care. I’m not scarred by not having a father. I was surrounded, am still surrounded, by people I love and who love me.’
    Nadine smiled at Ellen.
    â€˜You know you love me,’ Ellen grinned widely, wanting to reconcile for the sake of all the tiddas, but also because she loved Nadine too. ‘ And I will be a wonderful aunty if and when the need arises.’

4
MUMMY’S WISH
    T he following week Xanthe was feeling lonely. Between Spencer’s humanitarian legal work and Xanthe being an active member of the local Aboriginal community – volunteering in a tutoring program and at Murri Radio – the pair were at an endless stream of charity events and fundraisers, sometimes together, but mostly flying solo. They both agreed that they would do as much as they could in terms of their paid work and ‘love jobs’ – volunteering – until they had a family of their own, because they knew that then their priorities would naturally shift.
    Xanthe usually asked her tiddas if they wanted to join her at events, and when they could they would. Living almost thirty minutes from the city and not driving herself, Nadine rarely went but she always donated a box of autographed books for the raffles and, if pushed, would offer a manuscript assessment for auction as well. Given her celebrity statusin Brisbane, such a prize became an increasingly lucrative money spinner for several lucky not-for-profit organisations.
    Xanthe hadn’t mentioned one fundraiser to her friends when she’d heard about it a few days earlier. She was still stewing over the news of Izzy’s pregnancy and Ellen’s tubal ligation, which had left her the only Black woman in the group wanting to be a mother. Her head was still