jacinta louise mackee

‘You think she was upset because she really, really wanted to see me?’

'Oh, Tom,’ she sighs. 'Am I going to be playing lawn bowls with your father and still be giving you advice about this girl?’

He doesn’t know what makes him happier. The idea of him knowing Tara forever or his parents playing lawn bowls together when they’re old.

—  The Piper’s Son by Melina Marchetta

pre-marchetta week; bonus: older gen, younger years

Marchetta Meme: [1/8] Friendships » Georgie x Jacinta Louise

It had been the unspoken deal between her and Jacinta, years back when Dominic’s girl came into their lives. It’s where his other girlfriends had failed. Share her brothers and Georgie would be loyal for life. Jacinta got that, smart girl. Georgie missed her sister-in-law these days as much as Dominic.

Melina Marchetta Week: Day 5 - Best Ship

Dominic Mackee x Jacinta Louise Mackee

Dom, who got his girlfriend pregnant, married her, and dropped out of an honors law degree so Jacinta could finish hers, and never once in twenty years dared express a regret over what could have been.

“I don’t know how to do what you asked me, Tom,” she says sadly. “I don’t know how to talk about our lives without talking about your father. He’s in every one of the memories and every one of my decisions.”

Birthdays were big for his mum and every single year his father would come home feigning indifference and then spring something ridiculously extravagant on her.

“We can’t afford it,” she’d say.
“We can afford it. Tom and Anabel can just go without food for a week,” he’d say.

“I think he’s writing to J-Lo,” she says.
Tom looks at her. “Dad?”
She nods knowingly.
“She comes home and she’s all, ‘Any mail?’” Anabel puts on a sweet falsetto voice that sounds nothing like his mother. “And then she disappears into her room and once I walked in and she was all…” Anabel does this thing where she’s impersonating a silent coy giggle.
“Don’t be bloody ridiculous. He doesn’t do letters. And she doesn’t…” He impersonates her silent coy giggle.
Anabel sighs. It’s an Agnes of God sigh down to a T.
“I’m telling you, Tom. Those kids are writing smut to each other.”

He sees his father’s eyes flicker to the bunch of envelopes lying on the lawn.
“Forgot to give Georgie her mail,” Tom says, shuffling them together and handing them up.
His father takes the bundle and without flicking through them, he picks out Tom’s mother’s letter and stuffs it in his back pocket.
It’s as if he would have known her stationery in his dreams.