I withdraw my hand from the table, overcome with powerful emotions. Anger and frustration from hearing about a life and family denied to me, joy and amusement at Olivia’s antics. Remembered desire from a past long gone.

I sit there, staring into….something. Should we really learn of what could have been? Or am I truly the masochist some have described me as.

The French, however, are nothing if not efficient and observant. Even in the jungles of the Congo, and yes, as if one memory had triggered another, the formality of dinner needed to be observed whenever not in combat. An emotional beating is nothing compared to that, as the waiter takes that moment to arrive, clear the appetizers, and brings out a salad.

I start to eat, not really looking at Amelia. My body craves food constantly, and I do not believe in starvation.

She sits silently for a few minutes, picking at lettuce on the plate, when I look up and ask, “Please, continue. You said a few days ago that you loved my Mum, and the team said Olivia had been at the Church while Dryse was torturing me.”

She pales, before steadying, “Yes, yes, your Mum was one of the greatest sources of stability for me, and Livy.”

She paused, “I wanted Livy, and your Mum, to have some sort of relationship.”

“Your husband didn’t care? Didn’t mind that you spent time with my Mum with my daughter?” While I not yelling by the end, the heat and tone were not low.

Her face pales again, before reddening in anger, and yet, she spoke emotionally and coolly at the same time, which was typical Amelia. Making you sound a fool while conveying passion in a calm manner. “Dryse had other priorities, concerns. You told me  what he said to you on the boat, that he was waiting for the second generation. So I don’t know why he allowed it. I didn’t ask him.”

She takes a deep breath. “I wanted them to be involved, even if they didn’t know why. Livy loves your Mum, and they hit it off on so many levels. Perhaps your Mum suspected, but I never told her. If she had accidentally told Livy, it would have opened up too many wounds, too many questions that I didn’t know how to answer. Too many questions I didn’t want to answer.”

“And yet, she never told me, not once that you were even in Port Hedland, that you were still in her life. Why?”

“Once, Livy and I were on our way to visit Hannah.” She smiles briefly in memory, “She’d been helping Livy with this cross-stitch thing for a school project, something I never learned. When we arrived, she was talking to you on the phone. I don’t know where you were then, but I knew she hadn’t talked to you for quite awhile. Livy was five or six. After she finished, she got Livy started and then we talked over tea. I suggested, tentatively, that maybe it would be painful for you to know that I was here, visiting, with another man’s daughter. She just looked at me for awhile, peaceful, and agreed.”

“She always told me when you were coming home. Always. And we always left, Sydney, Perth, Darwin, Melbourne.”

“I guess being with Dryse paid well.” I replied bitterly, trying to hurt her.

“You have no idea, Brett, I….” then, she pauses, taking a deep breath.

“I don’t know Brett. Your Mum always had a peace about her. She provided comfort. I needed that, so I didn’t ever ask. She never blamed me for breaking off the wedding, never even brought it up. Never said, I wish…..about anything. I don’t know why she never told you.”

“I never told her. I never told anyone, not even Bridgette.” At this, she is stunned, speechless for once. “I called from Timor, the day before I left there. I told only Mum when she asked about the wedding, I didn’t even talk to Bridgette. I told her that I had decided that I needed to take a promotion. That I wasn’t going to regret passing it up like Dad did. I know that I hurt her with that, because she never told me, but I figured it out, that Dad’s biggest regret had been me. He got out, because Mum was pregnant with me.”

“I guess secrets grow in our family at the heart of the tree. So, I implied it was my decision. I guess. . . . I guess I wasn’t ready to admit that you could hurt me the way you did, so I hurt someone else important to me.”

After that, the salads taste like the dirt the ingredients had grown in.