Bad prospects, bad genes – that about summed up what Dad thought of Owen. I tried not to see anything racist in my parents’ reaction to Owen’s dad, but when Kari first suggested that they’d have preferred a heritage of tanned Italian to tinted Capetonian for more than passport reasons, I couldn’t truthfully deny it. And after Kari had pointed it out, I’d kept my ears open, but there was never anything either of my parents said directly that I could jump on. They always said they wanted whatever would make me happy, and if that was Owen, then so be it. You make your own choices, Lily my girl, is where Dad always ended up. And I chose Owen. Fuck ’em. I don’t care what they think about prospects or genes. My parents have to suck it up.
At La Belle Dad chose a table all the way in the back of the café, ordering two flat whites before we sat down. He started the minute after the waitress brought our coffee.
“Violet and I are,” he wheezed a little through his nose, “having a bit of trouble. It’s not financial or anything like that. It’s a relationship thing. It’s been coming a while, but it’s pretty much settled now. She wants a divorce.” He waved his hand as if to shoo a fly.
I looked at his lips move like he was speaking a language I didn’t understand. I hated Violet, but I never wanted them to split up. He’d always seemed happy with her, and the four of them looked like a perfect family.
“What about the twins?”
“Yes, that’s the thing. Now there is an issue with the kids’ au pair that couldn’t have come at a worse time.” He saw my face assuming that he had been the issue with the au pair, and added quickly, “Nothing like that, she needs to go home; her mother has cancer of something and it’s not going well.”
He sipped from his cup. We must have been sitting there for longer than I realised, as the coffee’s surface already had a little skin on it. White specks stuck on his top lip. If you looked quickly, it was as if the white specks at his temples had decided to relocate to his lip.
“It’s a difficult one. But I need you to help me out,” Dad said. Direct and to-the-point, don’t waste time on small talk.
“Of course.” It didn’t occur to me to ask what it was he needed.
“I need you to watch the kids. I’ve convinced Violet to wait two more weeks before we set a date for the divorce. I’m going to try to make her see me like she used to. I think these days she is tired of this old guy.” He shrugged, his shoulders sagging, his stomach going a little too round. “I think I make her feel old. I don’t know if there is someone else, could be … I don’t know if it’s going to work, but it feels like I’ve got to try, for the kids mostly. They’re young still.” Not a grown-up like you were, he meant. “I’ve got two Friday nights out somewhere. She won’t leave the kids for longer than a night, and we can’t go anywhere in the week because the kids are grade one now. It’s a ball ache but two Friday nights is what I get. If it works, then we live to fight another day. If it doesn’t, then my antenuptial kicks in.”
“I’m sorry, Daddy.” I meant it. How could Violet do this to him? It was her worst stinker ever. “I had no idea things were bad between you. Have you been for counselling?”
“Yes, all that and more. From before the twins already. I thought our having children would help us settle. Doesn’t work – learned that lesson twice now.” He turned his mouth down at the corners. “Last straw for her was some airy-fairy couples’ crystal heal-yourself bullshit that she wanted us to do. Only thing it did was convince her I’m stealing her energy,” he said, rolling his eyes at ‘energy’. “But ja,” he seemed to remember why he was telling me. “What I need from you is to take the twins for two Friday nights. I know you feel awkward being at our place, so they can come stay with you. They travel easily and will probably miss us less if they are not at home without us.”
I was in shock. I never realised my dad knew how I felt at his house. And he was always the one to sort out my problems, never whispered his to me. There was no ways I could say No. Same as Owen, he never asked me for anything. And now he wanted me to take his kids.
I said Yes. If I was in my car, I probably would have crashed it again.
Charlotte, Sebastian, Courtney, Chiara. Owen. Me. In the house that Kari and Dirk built. Didn’t sound like a fairytale beginning or ending to me.
10
“Have you and Owen talked to her yet?” Kari’s first words echoed in my bathroom. Her eyes scrunched at me, black hair a wild animal that filled the screen of my iPhone. It was seven in the morning for her, eight for me. I knew I didn’t look any better, even if my hair wasn’t as big. Facetime is never kind, even when I do have my face on.
“Bloody hell, no, there hasn’t been a gap. She’s been working all hours and Owen has been running around getting Chiara into a school. We’re aiming for tomorrow morning – Courtney is off work and Chiara will be at school.”
Kari snorted. “Can’t believe it’s taken you this long to talk – if it was the other way around, you would’ve shouted at me already. Sent a Pinterest quote at least.”
“It’s Owen’s fault. He says I mustn’t be aggressive about it, mustn’t make it more awkward and bring it up with her when Jeff and Chiara are around. I don’t get it – she’s just got to move her ass and take Chiara to go for blood so that they can do a paternity test.” I looked into the mirror over the basin. How could such a tiny square of me on the phone show up such a massive zit on my chin? “Okay, I get how that can be an awkward conversation; I just don’t care as much about awkwardness as Owen. Be direct and to-the-point, my dad says. I swear those are words to live by.”
Back on the screen in my hand, Kari was trying to tame her hair.
“I didn’t call you to talk about them. I know it’s Valentine’s today – I wanted to say that I’m thinking of you. I hope you’re going to do something nice.” Three years ago, on February fourteenth, Dirk had confessed to a one-night stand and Kari’s granny died suddenly. On the same day. Her Valentine’s Apocalypse had forced her back home to the family she’d run away from ten years before … She doesn’t look it, but she’s tough, that Kari.
“Thanks, my friend. I can’t believe it’s so long ago! Dirk’s gone to work,” she said, smoothing back the last of her hair. “I wish I was doing something good but it’s going to be the same as every other day – me and Adam and another long cold walk around Richmond Park. Sainsbury’s too, if Adam will sit in the pram long enough. I wish I was home and we could drink something in the sun at Eden, then the memories wouldn’t be so bad.” With her hair tied up, I could see that tears were already rolling down her face. Fuckit. I’ve been to visit her a few times – Kingston upon Thames in Surrey is pretty enough – but after two years, I could tell it would never be Eden for Kari. She would always miss home.
“Aw, Kari, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you cry. I wish I could come visit you again, but soon-soon and you’ll be here. You’ll see everyone and we will have two weeks together before the wedding.” Mental note to message Dirk to make sure that he remembered and made a fuss today. Owen would’ve pulled out all the stops, but he is built like that, not like Dirk. I know Dirk loves Kari, and they’ve both learned exactly how much in the past three years, but it simply isn’t in his nature to show it the way she can see it. I’d remind him.
“Yes, I know.” She wiped her cheeks; the tears didn’t stop. “I’m just tired. I remember Ouma and I miss her all over again. And no one tells you it’s this hard to have a child, and it’s like you’ve committed
