Chapter 26-1

Hey there, Birdie... I saw an interesting article the other day by a woman proposing that the amount of children a couple is allowed to have should be limited by their income.  So, say if you are unemployed, no babies for you, but millionaires could procreate indefinitely. The internet is in an outrage, and I can understand why.  No one likes the idea of choosing to have kids by typing figures into a calculator. Having said that, children are really expensive.  In Australia, the average cost of raising a child is about half a million dollars.  I'm not suggesting this article is right, but maybe it's not a bad thing for people to think about costs before they dive into parenthood. Just so you know, I'll cover the costs of our first three kids J I'm not trying to pressure you, but if you want to reply, even just to let me know you're okay, that would be, as Will says, awesome-sauce. Love, Tee Sparrow's pointer hung over the reply button, but her tears were falling too thick and fast for her to think.  Pushing away from the computer, she fled. *** The cluster of women at the bar were much louder than they realised.  As she worked the bar, Sparrow wondered if all the alcohol they'd consumed for a Saturday afternoon was clogging their ears, causing them to screech at each other like deaf pensioners. "Screw him!" yelled one of the friends, sloshing her glass back and forth.  "You go, girl!  You don't have to 'splain yourself!" "Yeah!  I don' even care!"  The jilted lover was so drunk, she could barely stay on her barstool.  "I'm not even gonna answer the phone.  That'll show 'im!  I was only flirting with that other guy.  'Snot my fault he gets jealous." The rowdy women cheered, but the designated driver piped up quietly, trying to be the voice of reason.  "Maybe he just wants to say sorry?" "No way!  Are you kidding me right now?  Too late.  Plus I was so pissed off, I went back and slept with the other guy, just to fuckin' show him." "I thought you loved him," said her friend. "I do.  I did."  The drunk girl's face crumpled like scrunched paper.  "Shit.  I dunno.  I can't call him now - how can I tell him I shagged that other bloke?" "If you don't tell him, you're not even giving him the chance to forgive you.  That's not fair on either of ya, darl." Sparrow hadn't realised she was gaping at the group with an open-mouth until one of the women yelled at her.  "Are you fricken right there?  Getting a good earful?" "Sorry."  Sparrow rushed to the other end of the bar, cheeks scalding.  "Hank?  Can I take a break, please?" "Yeah, yeah," said her boss.  "See you in an hour." Out onto the grey streets she stepped with the conversation reverberating inside her: If you don't tell him, you're not even giving him the chance to forgive you. Could she tell Thomas?  The blackest, foulest gunk at the bottom of her soul had lain there for so long, discolouring everything she did.  Was it possible to let someone else see how vile it was? She passed Ashlyn's corner, automatically reaching for cash.  "One, please." "Sure, Ali." Sparrow blinked in surprise at Ashlyn using her name as handed over a mag and a small smile.  "Thanks." "Welcome." Sparrow rolled the magazine between her hands, wanting to extend the moment with the other girl.  It had felt good to be able to afford to buy from Ashlyn for a few weeks now; Sparrow only wished she could do more.  "How's things?" "Fine."  Ashlyn indicated her almost-sold stack of mags.  "These sell pretty well.  I'm eating and I've got a place to sleep at the shelter.  It's just..." "What?" Ashlyn's eyes grew cloudy.  "I still wonder if there's more for me, you know?  Like, I used to think about learning computers and stuff, but I can't afford to study.  And it'd be great to have my own place, but how am I ever gonna save for bond or get a real job?  I dunno.  Whatever.  It's only life, hey?" "Only life?" echoed Sparrow, horrified.  "No, no, you can't say 'only life.'  It's a gift, and we're here for a reason.  Every moment is precious.  We have a responsibility to make our days count, to give our actions meaning, to see the beauty around us." "Lady, we're in Newcastle."  Ashlyn gestured around the grey streets.  "If you're looking for beauty, you're in the wrong place." "I don't believe that.  Cities can be beautiful.  The people in them can be beautiful too." "Nope.  This is a concrete shit-box, and the people who live here are miserable bastards.  But, hey, what a gift this life is, right?"