‘Is this really necessary?’ I asked with a sigh. ‘We’re doing a perfectly fine job by ourselves.’
Nancy paced back and forth in front of the bed, brow furrowed deep in thought.
‘What if she needs more help than we can give her?’
‘She hasn’t yet.’
‘But what if she does,’ Nancy insisted. ‘What if there’s nothing we can do to help her, and we regret not getting someone more capable.’
‘You really think we can find a disability support worker who can help? In my area, even?’
‘I don’t want to move her to Adelaide if we don’t have to,’ Nancy said slowly. ‘It might not be a good fit for her.’
‘Settled!’ I said, opening my arms in mock congratulations. ‘Then we don’t need to have this conversation!’
‘Jane, this is serious,’ Nancy folded her arms. ‘We need to figure out what we’re going to do, as a family.’
‘You’re just going to do whatever you want anyway,’ I shot back. ‘You always tell me that she’s my daughter too, but whenever there’s a real decision to be made—’
‘I don’t want to have this argument again!’ Nancy put her hands over her ears. ‘We just keep going round and round in circles!’
‘I know!’ I said. ‘I’m sick of it too.’
‘I didn’t say that,’ she said quickly. ‘Just that I don’t want to have it… I don’t want to have it now.’
‘Fine,’ I said, getting to my feet. ‘But I still think we should look into information about community nursing, in the Adelaide CBD.’
‘Fine,’ she echoed me, sitting down on the edge of the bed. ‘I’m just worried it’ll be too much of a change for her.’
‘She’s tougher than you think,’ I said quietly. ‘You should give her more of a chance.’
‘I have been with her longer, you know,’ Nancy sighed. ‘We’ve been through a lot.’
‘Well,’ I said finally. ‘Now you’re not alone. You just have to let me in.’
She slipped her hand in mine, and I sat back down beside her.