want to jump out of the car. Did I really want strangers to witness my cracks?
Right now, I’m glad for the excuse to be working.
I recheck my phone hoping for a message from Reef.
After making Dad a fruit salad for breakfast, I convince him to try an aquatic class, for me.
“If it means getting you off my back, all right then.”
“Really?” I jump up from the kitchen table.
“Yes, though I have no idea where my boardies are?”
“I’ll find them,” I tell him knowing the extra material in the long board-shorts will provide some confidence.
I sing along to the radio as we drive to the pool. I walk beside Dad until he gets to the edge. A therapist meets us and helps him into the water. I watch from a seat deciding not to swim lengths during his first class. Like a parent, I’m proud watching my father get through the class. He even smiles and chats with the other men. And one woman. My heart cracks a little wishing Dad could find love and happiness with another. No matter how many times he reiterates ‘it’s him and me against the world’, he hopes one day I’ll have the confidence to find someone I care about even though I struggle to foresee it in the next ten years. It’s a constant fear in my heart of him being left alone. I can’t do it to him, not after all he’s done for me.
I open Instagram.
Search for Reef Burton.
Read the last message I sent him, then type another.
Are you ghosting me because I said I was missing you?
To clarify, I then type out a message.
I miss your cocky notes on the back of the menus.
I hit send hoping it tones down any neediness.
Dad cheers, and his laughter snares my attention. I smile, watching him share a joke with the therapist. One session, and he’s laughing. I can only imagine him in his heyday flirting with all the girls.
“You seemed to enjoy the session,” I say to Dad on the way home in the car.
“I did. I was chatting with a lady who had her leg crushed in an accident. She almost lost her leg and has had extensive treatment and rehab just to walk. All these years later she still goes to the pool because she said it’s the best therapy.”
“See,” I say in an upbeat voice. I knew there’d be someone Dad could relate with. “Hydrotherapy is going to be good for you. The next time I’ll swim laps while you’re in the pool.”
By the time we reach home, I’m also smiling after reading an Instagram message from Reef.
Your poetry sucks.
I tell Dad I’ll organise some lunch for us when he showers. While chopping salads, I reply to Reef.
Sucks? Why?
For once I get brave and you deflate me.
I chop the carrot, and my screen brightens.
Suck and deflate are two words killing me atm
Sexual innuendo. I smile. The game ball is finally in my hands.
My poetry sucks. You know it’s not the only thing I sucked. Sucking is something I do well. You should see me suck spaghetti. I could come over and cook it for you sometime…
I manage to finish chopping the cucumber before my screen lights up again.
If you were here, the last thing you’d be doing is cooking… I think you’re the one who said we have unfinished business.
I toss the salad in a bowl.
You want me to finish you?
Shit, I’m getting horny by teasing him.
Thanks to you I have a hard-on. The first one since my surfboard tried to slice off my cock. No groin pain because I’m not moving. The reassurance it’s working fine is a bonus.
Did he think he couldn’t?
I could test it further?
I jump when Dad flops onto the chair with a thud. “Sorry, love. I’m a bit shaky. The pool took it out of me.”
“You should have called out. I can walk beside you when you’re not feeling strong.”
“It shows how unfit I am. You’re right. It is good for me.”
I smile at him like a mother to a child with I-told-you-so pointed look. “I’ll grab some cold meat, and we can have some rolls.” My phone lights up on the table, and I snare it before Dad can read the message.
Saturday night. I’ll be here alone.
Taking Dad back for his second aquatics session helped brighten my mood and not overthink the upcoming date with Reef.
A date. Is it?
During my break on Friday, I message Georgia and ask her to meet me at work