Manhattan Dreaming, page 6
I moved to the edge of my seat, leaning into her desk. ‘I know it’s a fantastic opportunity, and that it’s important to my career and the gallery – it’s just that – well, it’s America. I like being here, even with the miserable Canberra weather. It’s my second home, after Goulburn.’
‘Firstly, Lauren, it’s not forever – it’s twelve months, with an option to extend for another year. And secondly, and most importantly, it’s not just anywhere in America, it’s New York. The Big Apple, shopping on 5th Avenue, Broadway shows, Times Square, Central Park, the Metropolitan Museum of Art and the Guggenheim. Doesn’t any of that interest you?’
‘To be honest, I like what’s offered here locally. I’m not unhappy living in Canberra.’
‘Not unhappy and happy aren’t quite the same thing, Lauren. But even if you’re happy here, it doesn’t mean you won’t enjoy life in a big, bold, brilliant city like New York.’
I could feel myself becoming defensive.
‘How do you think someone like me – Libby calls me a country bumpkin, you know – is going to survive in New York? A lone Blackfella at that. This is big city enough for me. I was out of my depths in Sydney when I was studying.’
‘But there’s a whole world out there, Lauren! New York is an exciting place for a young single girl like you.’
Single. I had no real ties keeping me in Canberra now, even if I wished I did. Emma had no idea I’d been seeing Adam, so she didn’t know we’d broken up – or why, or how – but I felt like she’d knifed me in the heart. And I knew instantly the real reason I didn’t want to go was because of Adam.
‘Before you make a decision I want you to give it some serious thought. I want you to know there is no-one else I would even consider nominating. You are the best we have. And I don’t say that lightly.’ She handed me the email. ‘Here’s the job description and all the details. They’ll fly you over, we’ll sort out an apartment for you before you leave, and so forth.’
‘How long have I got to decide?’ I said, staring at the paper, but with Mum and Dad in my mind’s eye, feeling completely overwhelmed. ‘I need to talk to my family.’
Emma looked at her desk calendar. ‘I need to know by Monday. You’d have to be leaving early next month.’
I walked the long way back to my office, stepping outside for a brief minute for some air, as I was beginning to hyperventilate. No-one at work had seen me have a panic attack, as I’d managed my anxiety well since my uni days, but I felt like one was close to the surface.
‘You all right, Lauren? You’re wheezing. Are you asthmatic?’ Joel from security asked.
‘Oh, yeah, fine, thanks. Not asthmatic. I must be just really unfit,’ I said, pinching some flesh on my midriff. ‘Wouldn’t hurt to lay off the cakes here, either,’ I laughed, motioning towards the cafe.
‘This isn’t a dress rehearsal, Lauren, it’s life. Eat cake and be merry, I reckon. See ya.’ Joel walked off chirpy and none the wiser. I looked over to the Tent Embassy monument and thought about the ongoing struggle for human rights in Australia. I breathed in, exhaled loudly, mentally slapped myself in the head and reminded myself of my responsibilities to Aboriginal artists. Emma had just paid me an enormous compliment. I went back to my desk.
‘Where have you been?’ Libby asked, barely looking up from her computer.
‘Had a meeting with Emma.’
‘About?’
I handed her the advertisement for the fellowship and she immediately screamed with delight.
‘You’re going to New York New York? Oh my god, I am so jealous! Take me with you.’ Libby was even more excited than Emma.
‘I haven’t said I’m going yet. I have to think about it. What about my family? What about Denise? What about my work here? I’ll be letting too many people down.’
‘You won’t be letting anyone down – unless you don’t go and then you’ll be letting us all down, including yourself.’
‘What about our program here?’
‘Emma wouldn’t have suggested that you go if she thought it would jeopardise our program.’
‘What about Denise, then?’
‘You’re Denise’s flatmate, not her girlfriend, unless you’ve become one of those Canberra statistics and just haven’t told me.’
‘Oh, you’re hilarious. What about Mum and Dad, then? Dad didn’t even want me to go to Sydney to study. You can imagine how he’ll flip over the thought of me going to New York.’
‘Lauren, you’re thirty years old, you’re not Daddy’s little girl any more. And I’m sure Mum Jules will be thrilled you’re going to New York with all that shopping.’
‘Well then, I still need to think about Nick. He needs me too, even if I don’t see him that much.’
‘Both your brothers would be happy for you to go. You know that.’ Libby was making it difficult to argue with her.
‘Maybe you’re right.’ I sat down and tried to look at the emails that had come in while I was away from my desk, but I couldn’t concentrate.
‘I don’t get it,’ Libby said, confused. ‘Don’t you want to go to New York? Are you mad? Didn’t you watch Sex and the City? The place is crawling with men and bars and good fun.’
‘I’m not interested in men right now, and you know it.’
‘Okay, then. While Mr Fullofhimself didn’t help you get much shut-eye, at least New York City is the city that never sleeps, so it will be perfect for Loz-the-insomniac.’
I couldn’t think straight. It was only lunchtime but I needed to go home to Goulburn. I switched off my computer and finished up for the day.
‘I’ve only got until Monday to decide. I need to go see Mum and Dad.’
As I drove around what used to be Lake George it looked like climate change had dried up all the water between Canberra and Goulburn. I loved the country – my country. I would miss the sense of peace it gave me if I went to New York. I sighed deeply. A few hours with Mum and Dad and my brother Max would help to clarify everything for me. I wouldn’t have time to see Nick, and wasn’t emotionally strong enough, but I’d write him the usual weekly letter on Sunday.
I turned off the Hume Highway, passed the Big Merino and headed into town. As I turned left into Auburn Street I saw a banner saying the Wiradjuri Echoes – my mob – would be performing in Belmore Park for NAIDOC Week. I’d miss them if I went to New York. My heartbeat settled when I saw home. The red brick house always gave me a sense of peace and security that I never felt anywhere else. As I pulled into the drive, Jerry – our family dog – came running towards me, and nearly bowled Dad over – he was working out in the garden. I was home, and didn’t know how I could ever move too far from it.
‘Oh, your father and I have watched all the old movies set in New York, haven’t we, Graham. I loved An Affair to Remember and Breakfast at Tiffany’s. It looks like a wonderful city.’ Mum was pouring tea for all of us as we sat at the kitchen table. ‘You know, I always wanted to go to America, but your father wouldn’t even discuss it, and we could never afford it anyway. And here you are having someone else fly you there and give you a great job with the American Indians. How wonderful. Isn’t it wonderful, Gray? Max?’
Max went to speak but didn’t have a chance, as Dad was already thumping his fists on the table.
‘What are you talking about, woman? Romantic movies? What about The Godfather and Goodfellas and …’ – he put his cup down – ‘and what about all those crime shows we watch on television, most of them are set in New York!’ He turned to me. ‘Don’t you watch the news? They shoot each other in the street in America. They fly planes into buildings in New York. They never turn the lights off in that city, waste of bloody electricity if you ask me.’
‘Come on, Gray, don’t be like that. Be happy for Lauren going to the Big Apple.’ Mum patted Dad’s hand; she was always worrying about his blood pressure.
‘Big bloody Apple my arse. We’ve got Big Apples here, at Batlow, and there’s one somewhere in Tassie and another one in Queensland, so I don’t know why she’d want to go to some bloody big-noting apple in America.’
‘Gray, c’mon love, you’re being silly. America has everything bigger and better than we have.’
‘Bigger? Better? I’m sure the Yanks don’t have a Big Banana, or a Big Avocado, and you can bet your bottom dollar they ain’t got a Big Mango or a Big Pineapple!’
‘And I bet they don’t have a Big Poo like Kiama either,’ Max said, which made us all laugh – except for Dad, who took a deep breath and just kept going. ‘Oh and they wouldn’t have a Big Prawn, would they? They’d have a bloody shrimp, which doesn’t even sound big.’ Dad waved his arms in the air with frustration.
Max was laughing hard and even I had to chuckle. Being his favourite, I always took Dad’s side, but this time he was just too outrageous, and Max seemed to be supporting his case anyway.
‘Gray … stop it, please …’ Mum looked concerned that he was going to completely overheat, but he wouldn’t give in.
‘There’s the Big Mushroom in Canberra, and there’s a Big Cow somewhere and a Giant Kangaroo, but ah, no, you women want to go to some Big Fancy Apple in America.’ Dad stood up and took his cup to the sink, running water into it as he spoke. ‘I’m sorry, love, but the Big Merino has been good enough for our mob for the longest time – no big piece of fruit is going to make me let any daughter of mine go to New York.’
‘Gray, Gray, don’t be so silly.’ Mum went over and put her arms around Dad’s belly. It was what she always did to make him calm down. It mostly worked. ‘Gray, come on, this is something we should be happy about. Our only daughter gets the kind of opportunity we worked all our lives wishing we could give her. This is what she studied for.’
All of a sudden Max stood up, as if to give himself more authority, and put his hands on my shoulders. ‘I’m with you, Dad – I’d rather the Big Merino.’
Dad tried to wriggle out of Mum’s embrace. ‘You know I can’t think straight when you get that close to me, woman. Give a man a chance.’
That night Dad took us all to the Goulburn Workers Club for dinner. I felt sick the whole time, because it was where I had first met Adam.
As we queued at the bistro Dad ummed and ahhed about whether to have the barra or the lamb’s fry.
‘Sit down, Gray. You know you always have the mixed grill.’ Mum knew Dad better than he knew himself. ‘Go grab table number forty-two, and, Max, you get the drinks.’ My mum always had everyone organised and kept the family together.
‘I think it would be good for you to go to New York, Lauren, to see the world, to meet new people, to move on from Goulburn and Canberra, at least for a little while.’ That’s all Mum said before she placed our orders and we settled into a night of keno and catching up with friends who were also at the club.
It was karaoke night at the Workers, or what we liked to call Koori-oke night. Mum had a great voice so we both got up and sang New York New York, laughing at Dad’s reaction to our singing and the song. But everyone cheered us as we did the high kicks and I could see the pride on his face for his two Koori roses. I’d miss the fun we had at the Workers if I went to New York. I was starting to feel homesick even though I hadn’t decided to go yet.
When Mum and Dad went to bed that night, Max and I sat in the lounge room watching telly. I had a favourite chunky olive green velvet chair I would just mould myself into.
‘Mum and Dad haven’t asked me any personal questions,’ I said to Max as he flicked through a car magazine.
‘They saw that jerk in the papers,’ is all he said, without looking up.
‘But they don’t get the Canberra Times,’ I said, confused.
‘It was in the Goulburn Post.’
I gasped with shame.
‘And not that it’s any of my business,’ Max said, looking straight at me, ‘but I’d prefer it if you stayed away from the Canberra Cocksuckers altogether.’ And that was the end of the conversation. Max rarely got involved in my personal business, but when he did, he was serious.
I didn’t sleep at all, confusion only adding to my usual insomnia. I got up early and had breakfast with Dad.
‘Come on, Dad, let’s go to see Rambo.’ That’s what the locals had always called the Big Merino. We hadn’t been much since it was moved closer to the highway. I had loved climbing up into Rambo’s eyes when I was a kid, and did it nearly every weekend if I nagged Dad enough to swing by there. When I was little I didn’t have a problem with small spaces. Now, as a grown woman, I felt much more enclosed, but it was a familiar space, a safe space. I wanted to climb into the eyes once more as Dad waited for me in the car park. He couldn’t take the metal stairs any longer – he got puffed a lot easier these days. His days of climbing Rambo had ended years ago. This was the first time I’d climbed into the eyeballs for a long while, because they had closed them down for a month when they moved him closer to the highway in 2007 in an attempt to get more visitors.
There wasn’t a lot of room in there, it was ‘cosy’, as Adam had said when we pulled up at the massive structure one Sunday afternoon. He had wanted to shag in Rambo’s eyeballs, but as they were shut to the public he was happy for a grope at the barrier to the stairs. I didn’t feel comfortable at the thought of either and started feeling claustrophobic just thinking about being in Rambo’s cosy eyeballs.
On the way back home in the car, Dad said, ‘What about Nick? How are we going to tell him his sister is leaving the country?’ He was worried about my older brother, who was serving time in Goulburn Correctional Facility for driving unlicensed and unregistered and then running into the back of a police vehicle at a set of traffic lights. Nick worked on a farm out of town and they never worried about a licence for the tractor. He’d never had lessons and shouldn’t have been behind the wheel. I visited him once a month, wrote to him once a week and he always seemed okay. He promised Mum he was never going to drive again when he got out. Nick never mentioned that he couldn’t get a licence now anyway. He was the tough one in the family. I was the spoilt girl and Max was the baby.
‘Nick lives for your visits, even though they’re not that often,’ Dad said.
I felt a pang of guilt; he wasn’t due for release until next year, and all I could do was hope that he would understand if I chose to go to New York.
‘I’ll make a special visit if I decide to go.’
Back at home Dad put my bag in the Charade and with little sentimentality said, ‘Do what you need to do, love. It’s just I worry about you. That’s my job as a father. And I can tell Nick if you want me to. Your mother said I shouldn’t have made you feel bad about your brother. And you know, your mother is nearly always right.’ He rolled his eyes.
‘I know.’ We hugged and I pulled out of the drive and headed towards Canberra with tears streaming down my face. I couldn’t imagine what it might be like to have to say goodbye and leave. Just leaving Goulburn for Canberra was emotional enough.
‘Welcome to the Manhattan Movie Marathon,’ Denise said as I walked in the door and collapsed on the lounge. Libby was there drinking coffee and reading the weekend paper.
‘What are you on about?’
‘Libby told me about the amazing offer to go to New York and we thought that some fabulous films might help you make up your mind. I asked at the video shop for all the movies they had set in New York.’ She handed me a couple of DVDs and a couple to Libby. ‘But I didn’t think you’d want to see The Godfather and Godzilla.’
‘You were right.’ I thought of Dad.
‘Now we just need to sit back and relax. I’ve cooked veggie lasagne for lunch, and Libs brought some of your favourite goodies from Divine and Delicious, so we’re all set for the rest of the day.’
We started with the classic An Affair to Remember, first screened in 1957.
‘This is one of my mum’s favourites,’ I told the girls. ‘I think she likes the handsome playboy Nicky Ferrant and fancies herself as Terry McKay. They meet on a cruise from Europe to New York and have an affair, even though they’re both engaged to other people. They decide to meet up the top of the Empire State Building six months later. It’s such a romantic story.’ I stopped myself as soon as I realised I was getting carried away.
‘Oh, I agree, of course – stories about people cheating are always romantic, as we know,’ Libby said sarcastically.
We watched the movie in virtual silence, munching on popcorn that Denise microwaved. When Nicky and Terry planned their reunion it gave me an idea – I would go to New York and Adam would meet me at the top of the Empire State building – it would be far more romantic than shagging in Rambo’s eyeballs – if I could keep the claustrophobia in check. Even he would have to appreciate that.
As the credits rolled I lay back on the lounge and envisioned Adam waiting for me when I got out of the lift at the Empire State Building. He’d be looking hot in a suit – it was my fantasy so I could have him any way I liked – and a cashmere scarf because I knew he couldn’t make it until after the footy season was over, so it would be cold in New York. I’d walk towards him wearing a little black dress, black boots and a red coat – I’d always wanted a red coat – and we’d kiss without speaking and then just nuzzle into each other as we watched the sun set. There would be no-one else there to disturb us. It would be the perfect moment, and perhaps he would even propose.
Libby broke my private reverie. ‘Hey, wake up. Ready for another movie?’ she asked as she poked me.
‘Yes, I was just resting my eyes. I’m good to go,’ I said, with new interest in the movies and New York.
‘I know you love Breakfast at Tiffany’s, Lauren,’ Denise said, putting the DVD into the player.
‘It’s more that I love Audrey Hepburn’s style. I may have mastered accessorising my department store numbers to look high class, but I still dream about wearing Chanel and Dior clothes and Cartier jewels.’
