into the world. Hardly deviated from my routines. From the things I ate, to the way I spent my evenings, to the way I worked and got to work and the way I scrubbed everything clean and neat and shiny until there was not a sign of life left. And the way I pushed people away. The truth was that, in many ways, the illness had killed me.
I stood up. I felt shaky.
“I should go now,” I said, taking a step away from everyone.
“Wait, Zen.” My mom and dad stood up at the same time.
“My name is Zoe now. I’m going to change it,” I blurted out.
My mom and dad smiled at me. “You never liked your name. When you were young you always said it was too old-fashioned and you wanted to change it one day.”
“You shouldn’t have named me after Great-aunt Zenobia,” I said, and smiled back. We stood there smiling at each other for a little while, and I’m sure we were all thinking the same thing: that this felt nice. Being here, with them, felt good and right.
“We didn’t know about the accident. No one told us. If we’d known, we would have come to Joburg immediately,” my mom said, breaking the moment.
“I know,” I said, because I did know. My mom and dad had been there with me every single step of the way. Every test, every scan, every day I had spent in hospital, they came to visit. But still, they were unable to take away the loneliness I felt when they left and I was there all alone at night. Listening to the machines and the nurses’ chatter. They were not able to take that away. “You were always there for me.”
“I’m sorry we fought,” my dad said. “We just want the best for you.”
“I know you do.” I walked over to my parents and drew them both into a hug. “I love you guys,” I whispered. “And I want our relationship to be different. Better.”
“Us too.” My mom held onto me so tightly that I thought she might never let go.
“Let’s put this all behind us and start again.” I pulled away and looked at them.
“A fresh, new start,” my dad echoed. “With your new name, Zoe.”
“It suits you,” my mom said.
“Noah came up with it.” I said this part with a bigger smile than I’d intended to. My mom and dad nodded, both smiling truly happy smiles, and I found myself smiling back at them too, feeling this sense of relief wash over me.
“I think I want to go now, though. I have a lot to think about.”
“Of course. Why don’t you come and have dinner with us before you go back to Joburg?”
“I’d like that a lot.” I gave them both one last hug before walking straight out of the house and into the park across the road I hadn’t been allowed to play in as a child.
CHAPTER 49
I sat on the swing and moved it back and forth gently with my feet on the ground. Noah was on the swing next to me. He hadn’t said a word since we’d left the house, which felt like hours ago. Instead, he sat in silence next to me and, his toes on the ground too, pushed himself back and forth in time to my slow rhythm. A few guys in their late teens were the only other people in the park. It was dark now, and they were skateboarding down a flight of stairs and falling each time. One had made it down the banister once on his skateboard, only to crash into the dustbin at the bottom, much to the mirth of his friends. They were swigging something from a bottle and laughing like they didn’t have a care in the world. They didn’t seem to mind that anyone else was in the park either, and I found myself quite engrossed by what they were doing. Noah looked like he was too, because we both made an out-loud cringing sound when the one fell backwards off the wall and landed on his ass.
We both turned and smiled at each other. This was the first time in ages that we’d actually connected.
“Idiots,” Noah said, with an air of affection and knowing in his voice. Like he too had once been an idiot like that. It dawned on me that I never had. I’d been in hospital while I was meant to be out and about being an idiot with my friends