I giggle at the memory of hearing my dad search the whole house, loudly closing doors as he went. I had no doubt that he knew where I was hidden but he always pretended that he never did. When he found me, he would pick me up under my arms and twirl me around in the air before the tickle monster would come out.
I sigh, closing the armoire door. My dad and I had the best relationship while I was growing up. After exiting my parents’ bedroom, I head towards the door at the very end of the hallway and inhale deeply before turning the knob and pushing it open. My room.
It’s funny how everything we thought looked so big as kids, looks a shit-ton smaller when we’re adults. As a kid, I thought my room was huge and it was usually the location for one of my many imaginary games. Like, teacher. We had a plastic kids table set I would eat meals at because I was too small to eat at the normal table. You know, back before booster chairs and all that stuff. Anyway, I would grab the two plastic chairs from the set and drag them to my room, setting them up against the wall. Then I would sit my teddy bears up in the chairs and pretend to teach them from the other side of the room with a ruler in my hand.
I’m happy to note that the white built-in wardrobe is still there even though most of the red handles are now missing. I’ll have to take a closer look at all the shelves on the inside and see if it will need replacing. The built-in vanity and oval mirror are still here too. It’s rare for a house in Cape Town to have what Americans would call closets. So, we make do and build our own. Sometimes it’s great because it means you can customize it to match your individual taste and the style of the house. Other times, it’s not so great. Especially if you’re on a budget and don’t already know a carpenter.
I step up to the only accessible window in the room and peak out between the net curtains. My eyes bug out at the sight of the same concrete fence my dad had installed when I was a kid.
No, it can’t be.
When I first turned onto the street it looked like a lot of the houses had undergone an exterior makeover, including tearing down some of the fences to build newer, higher ones. So, it’s a shock to see the original concrete fencing still in place around this house.
I turn on my heel and rush out of the bedroom, down the hall, and out the door in the kitchen, heading to the far side of the fence. I stare in disbelief at the chip my dad and our neighbour caused when they dropped the concrete slab the day they installed the fence. I reach out and tentatively run my fingers over the chip just as the side door to the carport opens and closes.
“I thought you would be back here,” my mom says coming to stand beside me. “Wow,” she whispers. “I can’t believe it’s still standing.”
I nod. “Well, it was definitely built to last a long time.”
“It is concrete,” my mom jokes, nudging my arm.
I laugh. “Touché.” I turn, and loop my arm around her waist, laying my head on her shoulder. “What are you doing here?”
“Your dad wanted to see if you had found the place okay.”
“Where is Dad?” I ask, looking over her shoulder to see if I can spot him in the backyard or through the window into the kitchen.
“He’s checking out the house. He wants to make note of any repairs that need to be done and make sure all the bars are secure on the windows so it’s safe for you to stay here by yourself. This neighbourhood isn’t what it used to be.”
“It feels weird being back here,” I comment as we turn and make our way back through the kitchen door.
“It’s been what? fourteen years since we sold the house and immigrated to Florida?”
“About that, yeah.”
“Well, the burglary bars will need replacing. The armoire in the master bedroom still looks good, but we can get someone in here to renovate it if you’d like, Peanut. The built-in located in your room will need replacing,” my dad says, walking out of the far room and down the hallway to meet us in the dining room.
I let out a hard exhale. “Does Uncle Dave still know the carpenter who built the original ones?” I ask my dad, leaning into him when he wraps his arms around me for a sideways hug.
“No, he passed away years ago. But the man who took over for him is just as good. I’ll get in touch with Dave and get his number again. He works as a carpenter during the weekend and school holidays. He’s a primary school teacher during the week.”
I pull away from him and tilt my head up. “Is Uncle Dave sure about this guy, Dad?”
“You know your uncle; he wouldn’t have recommended him if he didn’t think he was good.”
“Well,” I say, stepping out of my dad’s embrace and sticking my hands in the back pockets of my jeans. “If Uncle Dave recommends him then it wouldn’t hurt to try him out.”
“Good,” my dad says, pulling out his cellphone. “I’ll give Dave a call now.”
“Did he happen to say what the carpenter’s name was?” I ask, as his thumb moves across the screen, dialing my uncle’s number.
“Nathaniel Walker,” my dad replies before lifting the phone to his ear and retreating back down the hall to the bedrooms, his voice carrying down to us as my uncle picks up on the other side.
I look around the space one more time as I hear my mom rummaging around in the kitchen and a sense of coming home settles in my belly. I spent so much of my childhood in this house, building memories, reaching milestones. It’s weird being back here with the knowledge that I’ll be here for the foreseeable future. Who knows, maybe I’ll even get to watch my own kids grow up in this house. But does it still count as moving back home if this hasn’t been my home for more than half my life?
Chapter 3
“How does it feel to be back there?” Londyn asks, taking a sip of her morning coffee.
This was the only time that fit in both of our schedules where we could FaceTime each other. Miami is six hours behind Cape Town. So, while it’s inching on to four o’clock in the afternoon here, it’s only just before ten in the morning there.
“It’s weird,” I reply, sipping from the red wine I poured just before we connected the call. “I remember so much of it, but there’s still so much that I’ve forgotten.”
“You’re back in your childhood home, right?”
“Yeah.” I prop up a foot on the chair I’m sitting on and rest my chin on my knee while I talk to my best friend. “You should see this place, Londyn. The in-between owners changed so much of the interior. They ripped up the carpet and put down tile everywhere.” I shake my head.
“Isn’t that the norm there though? Because it gets so hot during the summer?” she asks, leaning down until all I can see is the top of her head in the camera. I assume she is trying to get her new puppy, Kingston, to cuddle on her lap.
I sigh. “It is. I mean, my uncle’s house has tile throughout except in the bedrooms. I think it was more just a shock at first. I was so used to seeing carpet in the common areas. Plus, I think he got tired of my cousins leaving wet footprints on the carpet every time they came inside from the pool.”
Londyn sits back in her chair again, a ball of spotted white and brown fur wiggling in her arms.
“Oh my gosh, Londyn! He’s so cute!”
She laughs, scratching behind the puppy’s ears. “Kingston meet Annika. Annika meet Kingston.”
“He’s so fluffy!” I gush, suddenly sounding like the little girl from Despicable Me. God, I love that movie.
Londyn giggles when the puppy reaches up, putting his paws on her shoulder and licks up her face. His tail wagging playfully.
I laugh. “Seriously, Londyn, he’s so cute.”
She manoeuvres the puppy, so he’s playing on her lap while she gently pets him. “He wasn’t so cute this morning. Little shit chewed up my favourite pair of underwear.”
“Maybe this will teach you to actually pick up your clothes. Your bedroom floor is not a closet.” I grin.
Londyn rolls her eyes. It’s a conversation we’ve had multiple times growing up together. It doesn’t matter if it�
�s clean or dirty, all of her clothes end up on the floor of her bedroom until she needs to do laundry. She calls it an ‘organized’ mess, claiming she knows which articles of clothing are clean and which are dirty. I call it chaos.
“When is the carpenter supposed to get there?”
I glance down at the gold watch on my left wrist. “In about an hour. He wasn’t supposed to get out here till next week, but he’d called Dad and said he’d had a last-minute opening.”
Londyn grins. “Your dad’s taking over the renos isn’t he?”
“Ding ding ding.” I raise an eyebrow. “Did you really expect anything less from my dad? This house was his baby before we immigrated.”
“I honestly thought he would’ve had it all done before you got there.”
“He probably would have,” I agree. “But I didn’t get the keys until after a couple days of being here. He had no way of getting in before then.”
The puppy lets out a little growl around the rope Londyn’s using to play tug of war. “Have you at least researched this guy, Nika?”
“Not yet. I kinda completely forgot about it until my dad called this morning to say the guy had some time today after all.” I look around the table for my phone, figuring now was as good a time as any to look this guy up. “One sec,” I tell my best friend, remembering I left my phone on the charger in the bedroom.
“What’s his name again?” Londyn asks, the puppy now chasing a ball around the room behind her. Every once in a while he gets one of his long floppy ears under a paw while running causing him to tumble, but he shakes it off and goes right back to playing with his ball.
“Nathaniel Walker,” I answer at the same time I type his name into the search engine and hit enter.
Londyn lets out a low whistle just as the search results are loading. This is one thing I miss about North America. The fast Wi-Fi.
“Damn, Nika.”
“Fuck, it’s taking forever to load. The video stream is slowing down the connection.”
Londyn laughs, holding up her phone to the webcam so that I can see the picture she has pulled up on her phone. The guy in the picture looks tall, sculptured abs lead down to a narrow waist and that V muscle that makes most women dumb. The picture cuts off just below the blue waistband of his swim shorts. My eyes trace up his bare chest again, to broad shoulders, and a square jaw. I can’t get a good look at the rest of his face because the glare from the setting sun hides it, but it’s obvious that whoever had snapped the picture had taken it right after Nathaniel had gotten out of the water. The scenery behind him looks like one of the local beaches. I can’t tell which one exactly because Cape Town is home to many and the glare makes it even harder to distinguish.
“So, how long exactly is the flight to Cape Town?” Londyn’s question interrupts my wandering thoughts and I swallow hard.
“About thirty hours travel time,” I manage to say past my dry throat. “You wouldn’t make it in time.” I laugh as she sticks out her bottom lip in a pout.
“Dammit. Take pictures!”
“What? No! I am not taking pictures like some creep.”
She groans. “Come on, Nika! I’d totally do it for you!”
She totally would. Between the two of us Londyn is the pro at taking stealthy pictures. I’m not sure whether to be creeped out at that trait or a little envious.
“Fine! But if I make a complete fool outta myself and he decides to not come back, that’s on you. You’ll have to explain to Dad why he has to get me a new carpenter.”
A wide smile splits her face. “Deal.”
“I hate you,” I groan before taking a longer drink of my wine.
“Nah, you love me.” Londyn takes a drink of her coffee. Her nose wrinkles when she places the mug back down. “It’s not fair that I have to watch you drink wine while I’m stuck with coffee.”
I laugh. “It’s after four in the afternoon here!” And just because I can, I make a show of lifting the wine glass to my lips and taking a drink. “Hmmm, so good.”
“Asshole,” she mumbles.
“You love me,” I repeat her words back to her.
We talk a little more and discuss her plans for maybe coming here for a month over Christmas. After we graduated high school, Londyn’s parents decided that they wanted to spend the winters skiing in Aspen from then on. From what Londyn told me, they’d made it perfectly clear that she was not invited to join them. She seems to be okay with it at first, but I can tell it slowly started to weigh on her. And anyway, I would love nothing more than to have my best friend here while I celebrate my first Christmas back in Cape Town after so many years.
I miss the green Christmases here. Miss going to the beach on Christmas Eve and spending Boxing Day in my uncle’s pool. I glance outside to my backyard wondering just how hard of a hit my savings account will take if I were put a pool in. It’s something I remember my parents talking about a lot while I was growing up, but we never had the time nor the money. Now with the savings I have put aside and Jack’s life insurance, I have more than enough to put the pool in and live comfortably.
“Londyn, no,” I say looking down at the too tight, too short dress she made me put on.
“Stop fussing, Nika. You look fucking hot and Jack’s going to eat his heart out.”
She picks up her phone from its charging place on my bedside table, a smile lighting up her whole face.
“That was Kyle. He wants to know where we are.”
“I don’t understand why you guys aren’t together. You’d make the perfect couple,” I argue while grabbing a tube of lipstick from my makeup desk and sliding it in between my boobs and bra. I didn’t want to take a purse and Londyn absolutely refuses to let me change into a pair of tight jeans instead. So, everything is going into the boob holder tonight. Lipstick, emergency cash, and cell phone.
“Because I’m a free soul, Darlin’. I can’t be tied down,” she answers dramatically, pressing the palm of her hand over her heart.
I roll my eyes wanting to call utter bullshit. Londyn might look and act like a wild child, but under the surface she’s really just an old soul. She enjoys lounging around in pajamas and working on her latest arts and crafts project most nights. Whether that’s knitting, crocheting, sewing a new outfit, or painting a new piece.
I believe that’s what drew us together that first English class at the beginning of freshman year. She strode into the class, sat down next to me, and declared that we would be best friends. She could just tell, was her reasoning. And hell, she was right. We slowly built a friendship in that class that leaked out into our lunch hour and eventually outside of school.
That’s also how I know that when she loves, she’ll love hard. I just wish she would either forget about Kyle or stop waiting for him to make the first move. They’ve been circling each other since sophomore year with neither one of them acting on it. The odd time Kyle dated, Londyn would get upset and he’d break up with the girl and vice versa. Except Kyle didn’t get upset. No, instead he tried to intimidate the guy Londyn was with. In short, he would turn into a grade-A asshole until she broke up with the guy.
Their non-relationship makes my head spin and makes me glad I found Jack when I did.
Jack.
My heart soars at seeing him in just a few short minutes until I remember what happened in the parking lot of the school, and then I just feel sick. What the hell am I supposed to say to him tonight?
‘Gee, I’m sorry for freaking out. I guess this is the end for us then, huh? Good luck in the Navy.’
My stomach rolls at the possibility of saying goodbye to Jack tonight. I hate that it’s even an option. But what other choice do I have? Just wait here for him to finish training and hope he doesn’t get deployed right away?
I wouldn’t even be a military spouse and I’m not a family member. Would I even get access to him while he’s deployed? And how long would he be deployed for? I have no idea. I had plans to research all of this when Londyn and I got to my hou
se, but she started in on my hair and makeup right away, plus I don’t know where my laptop currently is. Probably still in my backpack from yesterday but I wouldn’t look for it now. I plan on researching all of it tomorrow.
‘Let’s go, hot stuff.” Londyn slaps my ass on her way out of my bedroom, continuing down the hall to the front door.
“God help me,” I mutter, picking up my phone and following my best friend.
Jack’s house is already packed with high school seniors and some juniors by the time Londyn and I make it down the street from my house to his.
The bass of the music is turned up so loud I feel it reverberating through my chest as soon as we step through the front door. It’s an odd feeling and one I could never get use to despite the parties we all attended together throughout our high school education.
“Looks like we have some party crashers tonight,” Londyn nods towards a group of people standing in a corner of the living room.
I sigh, not really feeling like dealing with idiots tonight. “Hopefully they don’t get out of hand like the last group who crashed a party.”
“Amen to that,” Londyn announces, taking the lead as she pushes her way through the crowd and into the kitchen where the guys are standing around the island.
“Budgie!” Kyle hollers, his words slurring already.
“I’m not a damn bird, Kyle Montgomery,” Londyn admonishes him.
“No, but you are cute.” He grins, throwing an arm around the back of her neck and offering her a sip from his drink, which she declines before proceeding to make her own gin and tonic.
“I’ll have one of those.”
Londyn nods at my request, grabbing another red plastic cup from the upside-down stack.
“Can we talk?” Jack asks, his strong hand splayed on the counter in front of me as he leans a hip against the marble.
“Now you want to talk? Wouldn’t the time for talking have been before you decided to enlist?”
Jack lets out a small breath. I stiffen a little when his hand lands against the small of my back. I know the movement is meant to be reassuring and I guess it still is in a way, but I am pissed.
Then There Was You (Twist of Fate) Page 2
