Then There Was You (Twist of Fate)

by A. J. Daniels

  “I’m here.” His voice comes out rough.

  “Okay.” I don’t know what else to say, or how to comfort him. If he were here, I’d plant myself in his arms while I wrap mine around him and we’d hold each other while we cried. While we mourned Jack.

  People say men can’t feel emotions as deeply as women. I say they’re fucking wrong. I think men can feel just as deeply but they’ve been so conditioned since they were kids to hide it. To be this picture of infallible strength. But strength doesn’t mean that you don’t feel. It means that you feel everything so strongly, but still continue to fight, to push through, to hold up those around you who can’t hold themselves up.

  I hear his throat clearing on the other side once… twice before he speaks again. “I’ll be there in the morning.” His tone brokers no argument, and honestly I don’t know if I have the strength to fight him on it right now. It would be nice to have him here.

  “Okay,” I reply. “Send me your flight details.”

  “I’ll get an Uber.”

  “Send me your flight details, please,” I repeat. Two can play the stubborn game.

  “Yes, ma’am.” I can hear the sad smile in his voice.

  We hang up with promises of seeing each other in the morning. I manage to call my parents and Londyn as well, before Caleb comes back with food for dinner and two other guys from Jack’s team with their wives. I sigh, hanging up with Londyn and pinching the bridge my nose. Caleb shrugs when I shoot him a look, but I can’t really be mad at him.

  I am grateful, though, when no one lingers around me after each one gives me a hug. I don’t think I can take the sympathetic looks right now, no matter how much the company may be nice.

  “Go lay down for a bit,” Caleb says, tipping his head in the direction of the bedroom. “I’ll come wake you when dinner’s ready.”

  I glance behind him and into my kitchen where the two wives are opening and closing the pantry cupboards and fridge and freezer while the guys raid Jack’s liquor cabinet.

  I shoot him a grateful smile and then disappear into the bedroom I used to share with Jack, and curl up in the middle of the bed, dragging the light comforter over my head to block out the rest of the world. I don’t even have the energy to feel guilty about being a crappy hostess and taking a nap instead of entertaining the guests in my condo.

  When I wake up hours later, there’s no one in the living room, but the fridge and freezer are stock full of dishes, and Ziploc bags are filled with meals for the next week or so.

  There’s a note from Caleb attached to the fridge with a picture magnet of him and Jack in uniform

  Didn’t want to wake you. Jill and Meg made you meals for the next week. Eat them! Will call you later.

  - Cal

  Chapter 8

  Dinner goes just as well as it had on Monday evening. Nate and I lapse into an easy conversation like we’ve known each other for years instead of just days. I find myself overthinking everything less when I’m around him. It’s refreshing to be able to just be in the moment. That doesn’t mean that I’m not going to overthink the whole date once I’m alone at home and trying to get some sleep, though. It’s almost a guarantee that I’ll be wide awake at two a.m. cursing myself for something I said or did today.

  He tells me more about coaching the boys U-13 field hockey team this year and what projects his carpentry business has going on. And I tell him more about what it was like spending half my childhood in Cape Town and the other half in Miami, Florida. I also tell him about Jack, and it surprisingly feels okay to tell someone else about my best friend and husband. To share pieces of him with somebody who never knew him.

  Nathan shakes his head, running a hand down over his mouth. “I can’t imagine losing a significant other like that. Hell, I’ll probably be single until I die,” he jokes but it seems to cover something else.

  “A sexy man like you? Nah, I’m sure you probably have women falling over themselves to get to you.”

  Nate scoffs. “If they are, they’re doing a shitty job of making it known.” He laughs but it feels forced. “I think my ex messed me up for other women.”

  “What do you mean?”

  He’s quiet for a while, staring out across the harbour. “She was the only woman I truly fell for. I mean, I had dated other girls in high school and college, but Vanessa… none of them compared to her. I was going to propose to her on our two-year anniversary.”

  “What happened?”

  “She, uh…” he clears his throat and turns to look at me. “Turns out she was already married. She had this whole other life I didn’t know about.”

  “Oh, shit.” The words slip out before I can reel them back.

  He chuckles. “Her husband wasn’t happy. He blamed me for her cheating and all their issues.”

  “What a bitch.” I slap a hand over my mouth. “Sorry,” I flinch.

  Nate just laughs, throwing back the rest of his drink. “No need to be sorry. Looking back on it now, I realize there were a lot of things in our relationship I overlooked or brushed off. I had blinders on when it came to her.”

  He changes the conversation back to me then and I’m happy to give him a reprieve from talking about his ex. I tell him about Londyn, and he seems to get a kick out of the crazy ass shit she used to make me do in high school, like cover our grade eleven English teacher’s office in sticky notes with various Shakespearian quotes printed on them. It took frigging forever to write out the quotes. Covering the office hadn’t taken as long as we thought it would, but we had help from some of the other kids in the class. The two-day after-school detention was worth it though.

  “Feel like checking out the market?” I ask after I’ve paid for our food and drinks, and we’re back in Nate’s car.

  The street the market is on is lined with cars by the time we make it to the other side of the bay by the harbour, but Nate manages to find a spot not too far. When we get out, he reaches for my hand and clasps it in his as we walk down the closed off street to the building that looks like a warehouse.

  The first things I see are hand-carved wooden statues of a giraffe, elephant, and lion. All the animals one thinks of automatically when they picture South Africa. As we move farther into the low light of the building, the pieces of art change from wooden sculptures to big and small painted canvases, shirts, hanging glass terrariums, and jewelry. In the back of the building is a pub style eatery with local beer and a large wooden table so shoppers can eat in a family style setting.

  Nate and I do a loop of all the vendors until a shop catches my eye and I veer off the path to get a better look. As soon as I step up to the booth, a sterling silver necklace catches my eye. It’s a map of South Africa with a heart cut out at the bottom where Cape Town would be located.

  “Do you want it?” Nate whispers in my ear, coming up behind me.

  I turn it around and look at the price before sighing and putting it back on the stand. “No, that’s okay.”

  Nate snatches it back up again and before I can protest, he’s pulling out his wallet and handing the lady the cash.

  “You really didn’t have to do that.”

  “I know I didn’t have to, but I wanted to,” he says, handing me the little gift bag containing the necklace.

  A blush crawls up my face as I accept the gift and thank him.

  All too soon after leaving the market, Nate pulls back into my driveway at home and I’m almost disappointed that the night’s already at an end. Although… I turn in my seat to look at him as he puts the vehicle in park and shuts off the engine. As soon as his arm moves out of the way, I unbuckle my belt and climb over the middle to straddle his lap. Nate chuckles when my ankle gets stuck on the gear shift, but he helps me get it free and then his hands are gripping my hips and pulling me closer. I cradle his face between my palms and kiss him. I can feel him growing harder beneath me with every rock of my hips. I moan into his mouth.

  “You sure?” Nate asks when we finally come up for air.


  I nod and go back to kissing him, his hands snake up the back of my shirt to unclip my bra and when he accidentally hits the middle of the steering wheel, sending the horn blaring, I can’t help but untangle my lips from his and bury my face in the crook of his neck and giggle. Frigging A, totally forgot we were still in his car.

  “Let’s take this inside.”

  I push open the driver’s side door and scramble off Nate’s lap, narrowly missing doing a face plant on the bricked driveway. He manages to catch my arm and helps steady me until I have both feet planted firmly on the ground.

  Nate adjusts himself then steps out and sets the car alarm before following me up the front walkway. As soon as I have the front door open, he pushes my front up against the wall and kicks the door closed, locking it and setting the deadbolt. All without letting me up from the wall. Then his front is pressing against my back. Nate grips my hips and pulls my bottom against his hard length.

  “This ass has been driving me crazy all week.” His one hand lets go of its hold on my hip and roams up the middle of my back and around my throat, pulling me up and back into him.

  Nate nips and sucks up the curve of my neck. His teeth graze my ear, sending a shiver down my body.

  “You’re so sexy,” he rasps, punching his hips forward and causing his length to slide along my ass cheeks.

  I freeze as Jack’s face appears in front of my face. It’s so clear I can see every line creasing his forehead.

  “You okay?” Nate asks, his lips no longer ghosting over the curve of my neck.

  “I, um.” I take a deep shuddering breath and shake my head.

  Nate immediately let’s go of my hips and takes a step away so I can turn around. I keep my eyes focused on my feet as I slump back. “I’m so sorry,” I sob, covering my face with my hands.

  “Hey, hey,” Nate whispers, rubbing his hands up and down my arms. “It’s okay. I can wait.”

  “Are… are you sure?” I hiccup, lowering my hands.

  His hands move up to cup my neck, his thumb running over my top lip. “I’m sure. I’ll see you tomorrow to get those shelves up.”

  “Okay.”

  Before he can move away, I curl my fingers into the front of his shirt and pull him to me, kissing him before he can protest. Nate groans, planting one hand on the wall beside my head and the other around my hip.

  “See you tomorrow,” I say, my voice low when we break apart.

  Nate nods and then heads for the door, pulling it closed behind him.

  Chapter 9

  “Mom! Dad!” I call as I remove the key from the front door and shut it behind me.

  The small two-bedroom house is quiet. Unusually so for a weekday evening. Normally Dad’s in the kitchen preparing dinner while Mom sits at the dining room table with her laptop, working on her most recent cases.

  “Dad?” I call out again. I know he’s here; I saw his car in the driveway when I pulled up.

  “Hey Peanut,” my dad answers, rounding the corner from the hallway and slipping on his reading glasses, but not before I notice him wiping at his eyes.

  “Everything alright?”

  He smiles as he walks towards me and gathers me in his arms for a hug, but the smile doesn’t reach his eyes. There’s a sadness there that I can’t quite understand.

  “Where’s Mom?”

  “She had to go out for a little while. I’m sure she’ll be back soon,” he says, waving it off. “Have you eaten? I was going to put on a pot of lamb curry.”

  My stomach lets out a loud growl. I never can resist a bowl of my dad’s famous curry. It’s so good. Mouth burning hot, but delicious, nonetheless.

  “With homemade roti?” I ask, my mouth already watering remembering the aromatic smells and taste of all the spices blending together.

  Dad laughs with a slight shake to his head. “The things I do for you. Okay, grab everything for the dough. You can help me make them this time.”

  After I help Dad make and fry the rotis and we’ve eaten dinner, Mom still hasn’t returned home which sets my warning bells off. I don’t remember a time, whether in Florida or here in Cape Town, where either one of my parents missed a dinner. That coupled with the fact that when I called her earlier her phone went straight to voicemail. But I don’t question him while I watch him make a plate for Mom and wrap it before putting it in the fridge.

  When I’ve helped him clean up, Dad and I move to the couch in the living room to watch the cricket match. I wage a war with myself if I should bring up my uneasiness about Mom now or wait until the match is over. It is never a good idea to try and have a meaningful conversation with a South African man while he’s watching a cricket match… or rugby for that matter. If the Springboks were playing, any conversation ceased. So, after I hand him another beer, I take up the seat beside him, trying my hardest to act normal.

  After a while, Dad must sense my uneasiness because he leans forward and clicks the volume on the remote to mute the TV, sighing as he sits back.

  “What’s going on with you?”

  “What?”

  “Peanut, usually you’re yelling at the TV. You’re never this quiet during a match.”

  “Just worried about Mom is all.” I keep my eyes on the screen, willing myself to pay attention. India’s up to bat.

  “Your mother’s fine. She’s at Granny’s.”

  “She’s what?” I sit up straighter. My mom hasn’t talked to her stepmom in years. I guess they had a falling out ages ago and neither one have gotten up the courage to apologize or admit to being in the wrong. If my mom was at her parents’ house then something big is happening. “What’s going on, Dad?”

  He sits forward, pulling off his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. “We had a falling out. She left last night and called to tell me she would be spending the night at your grandparents.”

  “You what? What happened?”

  Through my entire life my parents were always the pillar of what a loving, successful relationship should look like. Sure, it wasn’t like your traditional relationship where the wife stays home with the kids and cooks and cleans. My dad was the one who decided he wanted to stay home when I was little. He’s the cook in the family and thank God for that because Mom would’ve burned the house down with her cooking. Dad works and has worked in web development, so it was easier for him to work from home and stay with me. Plus, it saved them from having to find a suitable daycare for me until I was old enough to go to school.

  “Nothing you have to worry yourself about, Annika. You have enough on your plate as it is with the new job.”

  “Dad, tell me,” I insist.

  He drops his head, so his chin is resting against his chest. “Your mom… found out something from my past that I had neglected to tell her. Honestly, Annika, it’s nothing and will blow over soon.” I can tell the words are just meant to placate me and he doesn’t believe them himself. He’s scared.

  I push up from the couch and stand facing my father. “I’m not a child anymore, Dad. Whatever is going on between you and Mom… I can handle it.”

  “This isn’t something a daughter should find out about her father,” he argues, and I can see a little of myself in him. We always want to protect those we love from our problems. Never wanting to burden them.

  I will not relent though. Something is going on with them and I want to know what. Not because I need a distraction from my own love life, but because I care deeply for both my parents. Things with Nate are good. We’re still in the stage of navigating this new relationship while working together but things are… good.

  My dad’s shoulders drop, defeat shimmering in his eyes and I know his resolve to leave me in the dark is crumbling.

  “Do you remember Uncle Dave from before we moved to America?”

  I nod. Uncle Dave isn’t really my uncle but he and Dad went to college together and became close friends. From what I can remember, that’s how Dad met Mom. Mom was friends
with Dave’s sister, and they met one day when Dad went over to Uncle Dave’s house. His sister and my mom were there.

  Dad clears his throat before he goes on. “Dave was more than just a friend, Peanut,” he says cautiously, gauging my reaction.

  I cock my head in confusion wondering what the hell he means when suddenly the lightbulb goes on. “He… You… oh,” I stammer trying to find the right words.

  “I’m not about to go into details with my daughter, but back then it was a sin to be seen a moffie, so we kept it quiet. Then I met your mother…”

  Dad turns to look out the window that faces the neatly cut front yard and I swallow hard, not sure if I want to hear the rest of this story.

  “We knew we could never have a future together, and I really do love your mom.”

  When he turns back to face me, there’s fear and uncertainty swimming behind his eyes, but also loss and maybe regret?

  “Anyway,” he says and clears his throat again. “It was stupid of me to have kept that from your mom all these years and I regret it.”

  “Did you ever cheat on her?” I know it’s a stupid question as soon as the words leave my lips. My dad has always been devoted to my mom.

  His posture stiffens. “I deserve that after what I told you, but no. I have never cheated on your mother. The thing between Dave and I ended before I pursued Rebekah.”

  “How did… how did Mom find out?”

  “Dave came over for a braai last night. He had too many drinks and let it slip that something had happened between us in college.”

  An incredible sadness clouds his eyes and I can’t hold back from throwing my arms around my father’s neck and hugging him.

  “She’ll come back,” I whisper, hoping against all hell that I’m right. I can’t see my mom holding his sexual orientation or what he did in the past against him and I’m almost positive that it was the hurt of knowing he had kept something like that from her that sent her running to my grandparents.