Thembi had warned me it would be quick. Disappointing. Not like you see in the movies. But as I lay there in the morning, tangled up in his arms, the light streaming through his window, it had been anything but disappointing. It wasn’t good because we’d been having sex—that was almost irrelevant. It had been good because I’d never felt closer or more connected to anyone in my life before. We spent the day in bed, talking, laughing, and, well, yes, I was no longer a virgin . . . twice. But this also made it so much harder to say good-bye to him that evening, knowing that in a few days’ time, we would be saying good-bye for a very long time. He walked me to the front door and opened it reluctantly.
“What are you doing tomorrow?” he asked.
“I don’t know yet. I want to spend some time with Zac. I want to do something really special with him, to say good-bye. I just don’t know what yet.”
“That would be nice. Let me know what you decide, I also want to spend some time with you.”
I leaned in and kissed him. Our kisses were different this time. They had been since last night. They were the kisses that lovers gave each other. Sexier and slower and more loaded.
“I will,” I said as I walked to my car and climbed in. I drove home that evening feeling this sense that everything was different. The sea looked bright and brilliant and no longer scary. The mountain looked like it probably looked to all Capetonians: beautiful and majestic. Like a lighthouse on a misty night, a safe, guiding beacon. Something to orient yourself with. Even my house, when I pulled up to it, didn’t look as hideous. Maybe kitschy winged lions weren’t as bad after all . . . or maybe I was just high on dopamine.
Things I Like about Myself by Lori Palmer
I’m a good sister.
I’m a real artist (despite what Blackwell says!).
I, Lori Palmer, am officially good with parents! I’m getting better with parents.
I have a voice. There is power in my art.
I am brave!
I am a great kisser!
I’m a good friend (even if I don’t really want to be just a friend).
My voice can start a movement!
My body is a work of art!
I have great boobs. I mean . . . AHMAZING!
I am hot!
I stand up for myself.
I am a bona fide sex goddess.
I walked through the front door and my dopamine high instantly disappeared when I saw him sitting in the lounge. He was helping Zac build his biggest battery in the world. My mom was sitting at the kitchen counter drinking coffee, her back turned to him, as if she was trying to block him out.
“Lori!” He rushed over and pulled me into a hug.
“Dad,” I said, feeling crushed against him.
“I’m so proud of you,” he said.
“For what?” I asked.
“You’ve been all over the news. You did those incredible paintings. You’ve been accepted to the best art school in the world.”
“What are you doing here?”
“I couldn’t let you go away without saying good-bye, poppet.”
Poppet. I tried not to show emotion at this pet name. He’d always called me poppet, but this time it made me want to cry. Seeing us all in the same room together made me want to cry. Knowing that he had flown here to say good-bye to me made me want to cry.
I turned and walked away, dumping my overnight bag in the kitchen. My mom glanced down at it quickly, and when I caught her looking at it, she turned away. I could see she knew I hadn’t been at Thembi’s house, and when she flashed me a tiny, knowing smile, I couldn’t figure out whether this was the creepiest thing ever or whether I should be touched by her apparent openness.
The rest of the evening was strange. I could see my mom was making a huge effort to rein her emotions in as we all sat around the kitchen table sharing a pizza. This was maybe the longest time we’d been in the same room together in years, and although it felt awkward, there was something nice about it. And Zac looked so happy. He was actually smiling. My dad put Zac to sleep that night, and when he returned downstairs, my mom made herself scarce.
He sat down on the couch opposite me, wringing his hands as if he had something important to say. The tension was unbearable, so I broke it.
“So have you set a wedding date?” I asked. It came out more sarcastically than I’d hoped it would. He looked up at me. He had my eyes. Hazel. My coloring. Red hair that was looking grayer than I remembered.
“Not yet,” he said softly. “I know you don’t really like her, but if you got to know Maddy, you’d find out that she’s not as bad as you think.”
I sighed. “I don’t not like Maddy,” I said. “She’s fine. She tries really hard, and is really very sweet but she’s just . . . well . . .” I clutched my hands in my lap. Vicki said I needed to tell my dad how I felt, and now seemed like as good a time as any. “You had an affair with her, Dad.” The words came out cold and firm, and he looked at me and nodded.
“I know,” he said.
“You lied and snuck around and you weren’t where you were meant to be the day Zac had his accident. When we needed you.”
“I know,” he whispered. I could hear the pain and shame in his voice.
“And are you sorry you did it? Are you?” I asked, my heart started beating faster now.
He hung his head. “I’m sorry I had an affair, but I’m not sorry I met Maddy. I could have handled it differently, though. Should have handled it differently. But I didn’t. I regret that.”
“How long was it going on, before Mom caught you?”
He sighed. It looked like he didn’t want to answer this question.
“How long, Dad? I deserve to know this.”
“A year,” he said.
“One year!” I shook my head and put my face in my hands. This was not what I’d imagined. A few months maybe. I looked back on that year now through a different lens. He’d lied to us for a whole year, what else was a lie? Could I trust all those times he’d said he loved me? And when we’d done things together, had he really been there, or had she always been on his mind? Coming between us like an uninvited guest. He must have known what I was thinking.
“I know I lied to you guys, but I promise that nothing else was a lie. Everything I feel for you and your brother, that isn’t a lie. It was never a lie. I love you guys with all my heart.”
“It’s kind of hard to trust what you say, Dad. It’s hard to trust your love, since you seem to have some other version of it. The kind that makes it okay to cheat on Mom and just leave us like you did.”
“I’m sorry,” he echoed. “I know I let you down and I’m not the man you thought I was.”
“What?” My head snapped up. “Dad, you were my idol. My hero. You were the most important man in my life. I had you on a pedestal and that’s what hurts the most. Not that you had an affair, but that I was forced to see you, and think about you, differently. I wasn’t ready to see you like that. I’m still not.”
“I’m so sorry. That breaks my heart to hear, Lori,” he said quietly.
“Yeah, well that makes two of us. You didn’t just break Mom’s heart, you know.”
We fell into a strange, long silence. I’d never been this honest with my dad before, and it wasn’t as hard as I’d thought it would be.
“I hope you can see me like you used to one day again,” he whispered softly. “I’m still your dad. That will never change.”
“Maybe,” I conceded, even though I wasn’t sure that was possible. I glanced over at him and he sat up straighter in the chair.
“I’ve decided to fly down here every second weekend to spend time with Zac. It’s not enough to only see him on holidays and half terms. It’s only a two-hour flight. I’ll get a little apartment here, maybe somewhere foresty, away from the beach, that way Zac can experience the best of Cape Town.”
I looked up at him and forced a small smile. “That’s a good idea, Dad. Zac will like that. But you must make sure you buy the same bed and carpet that he has in his room now. And the dresser. Also, the same curtains.”
My dad smiled at me. “I know.”
“Because you know what he’s like in unfamiliar spaces.”
“I know,” he reiterated. “You’re a great sister, you know that.”
“Yes. I do know that actually,” I said confidently. “I’m a bloody good sister.”
His smile grew and I couldn’t help it, but I allowed myself to smile back at him, too, and for a moment, wallowed in the feeling of my father’s obvious love for me. I mean, I knew he loved me. And I loved him. And clearly things would never be the same between us again, and maybe that was okay on some level. Maybe we would need to find a new kind of father-daughter relationship, and that would take time. But maybe this was a small start.
“So, Paris,” he said, when my smile faded.
“Yes.”
“Are you nervous?” he asked.
“Yes. But excited too.”
“I love Paris,” he said.
“I didn’t know you went there.”
He laced his hands together as my mom walked into the kitchen and opened the fridge. “Your mother and I went there for our honeymoon,” he said in a softer voice.
I glanced at my mom to see if she’d heard that; she had.
“Remember that little patisserie on rue Madame?” my mom asked, walking toward the lounge.
My dad chuckled. “I put on three kilos just from eating those chocolate croissants every morning.”
My mom smiled now, as if she was remembering something pleasant. I looked from her to my father, shocked. They’d barely spoken to each other in years, and this—this was almost friendly.
“You’ll love the jazz café on Saint-Germain,” my dad added. “You have to visit.”
My mom nodded. “Do you remember that bench in the park where we used to feed the pigeons?”
My dad sat up. “And the one flew into your hair.”
“My hair was a lot bigger in those days.” She looked at me and smiled. “A lot bigger. If your dad hadn’t gotten it out, I’m sure it would have nested there.”
We all burst out laughing, and for a second, I swear it was just like the old days. But it wasn’t, and when the laughter stopped, a strange silence closed in on us. My mom and dad shared a brief look before my mom turned to walk out of the room.
“Well, I’m off to bed,” she said.
“Good night, Mom,” I called after her.
“Good night,” my dad said. My mom stopped momentarily, as if she was about to answer back, but didn’t.
As I watched her disappear, it dawned on me. In that slow walk she took up the stairs to her bedroom it all became so crystal clear. She didn’t need to say a word, but I could see—for the first time ever, maybe—the depth of loneliness and aloneness she felt going to an empty bed.
My dad and I stayed up talking for another hour or so before he left to go back to his hotel. When he was gone, I walked into my room and looked around. It was strange to see it all packed up into suitcases. Mind you, I’d never really settled here properly—it was as if the universe knew this somehow. Knew that this was only a temporary stop on the way to somewhere else. I climbed into bed and my thoughts immediately drifted to Jake. Was Jake temporary too? I didn’t want to think of him like that, so I distracted myself with running through the list of all the things I’d packed to make sure I hadn’t missed anything. And suddenly, I remembered I had missed something.
I jumped out of bed and rushed to the little tray of succulent leaves on my windowsill. I hadn’t spritzed them with water last night. I grabbed the bottle and was just about to spritz when I noticed something. I picked up one of the leaves and stared at the tip of it. There it was. So small, so tiny. The start of a bright-pink root shooting from the end. I looked down at the little leaf. Once discarded, thought to be dead, only it wasn’t. It was starting to grow again. Ready for its new adventure. Ready to start its new life. And that’s when it hit me, what I needed to do.
I walked out of my room toward my mother’s room. I could see she wasn’t asleep; light was spilling out from under her door. I tapped my knuckles on the door softly, and opened it when I heard a faint “Come in.”
“What’s wrong?” she asked when she saw me.
“Nothing. I’ve just been thinking.”
“About what?” she asked.
“Technically I’m no longer a student at BWH,” I said.
“And?”
“Well, technically that means Xander is no longer my guidance counselor.”
My mom looked down and shook her head.
“I’m just saying, Mom. That if you did want to . . .” I was trying to choose my words carefully now, “. . . pursue something there, it would be okay. I think you should start dating, actually. You deserve to find someone else. Someone who is going to love you and make you happy again, Mom.”
She looked up at me and smiled. “I appreciate that, Lori. But I’m not sure that Xander and I are . . . well, I don’t think I’ll be going on another date with him.”
I raised my eyebrows at her.
“He’s a nice guy, but my goodness, he’s very orange, isn’t he?”
I laughed at this and she laughed back.
“Xander or not, you should date, Mom. You should put yourself out there. But you know, be careful and—”
“I’m not going to date for a while, Lori.” She cut me off. “I need to be there for Zac now, and I think I should probably get some help with getting over the divorce first before I climb into another relationship.”
I smiled at her. “I could ask my therapist for a recommendation?”
She nodded. “That would be good. Thank you.”
We gave each other a small smile, and I was just about to close the door when she spoke.
“Sex!” she said awkwardly.
“What?”
“I mean, the sex talk, we’ve never had it and I . . . well, do we need to have it?”
“Stop!” I held my hand up. “I think I know enough about the birds and bees.”
She nodded and shuffled around nervously.
“I’m pretty responsible, too, if you haven’t noticed. Despite once being wanted by the police and all.”
She smiled. “So you’re . . . um . . . being careful?”
“Mom!” I shook my head. “It’s way too late to be talking about this, I need to sleep, but yes, I’m being careful, and no, I’m not elaborating. Let’s leave it there.”
She smiled at me and shook her head. “Fine. Good night, love.”
“Night, Mom.” I closed the door behind me and walked back to my room feeling a small sense of relief. The kind of relief you get from knowing that you’re making small steps along the right path. That you are beginning to repair things that were once broken. But still, I wasn’t going to be talking about my sex life with my mom . . .