Aunt Olivia

FICTION — SHORT STORY

Aunt Olivia looks forward to the arrival of the community carer Lara who comes three times a week to help her with the shower and other little things she can’t do herself after her hip operation.

Twenty-three-year-old Lara is the only human connection Aunt Olivia has left with anyone other than her two nieces, who take turns dropping food. Their trips are short, conversation to the point, and often loaded with instructions on how long to heat the food and what to do in an emergency. It is Lara with whom Aunt Olivia gets to have a chat she so much needs.

‘While you are here, would you mind rubbing some cream on my legs? They are prickly like cactus.’ Lara, a second-year nursing student, who works as a carer on the side, obliges.

‘Tell me how that boyfriend of yours is going?’ Olivia asks, enjoying Lara’s young finger massaging her wrinkly skin.

‘He is doing fine. These days he is helping his dad repair their house in Braidwood. I hardly see him.’

‘Not good dear, not good. You two ought to get married by now.’

Lara smiles. Each week, at least once, the conversation goes in the direction of marriage. It seems that when older people have nothing left in their own lives, they start meddling with others.

But Lara doesn’t mind Aunt Olivia prying. She has a way about her that was nudging but not intruding. That is perhaps the reason she is an aunt to everyone.

‘We have talked about this before, Aunt Olivia. We are too young to get married. Besides both Alex and I do not have regular income yet.’

‘Too young,’ scolds Aunt Olivia, ‘how old you want to be when you have children. Thirty-five. Goodness golly! You two have been living together for five years. Didn’t you say that to me?’

‘Yes.’ Lara wipes the extra oil from Olivia’s legs with a towel and pulls the pajama down. ‘But none of my friends is married yet. Neither is his. Besides, what does marriage has to do with having children?’

It takes Olivia a few moments to comprehend that piece of information. Then she responds with a sigh, ‘You might be right, dear. What marriage has to do with having children?’

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