C H A P T E R  N I N E T E E N

☆☆☆

PAITEN HEARTH

☆☆☆

Anna sent me a good morning text every day at 07:19 on the dot without fail. She sent them at that time because she knew that was when I'd be out of the house, dressed, eaten and already strapped into the passenger seat of my dad's car. She knew it would be just before my dad would come rushing in with his travel mug before he'd rev the engine and reverse out of the garage and then drive out of the estate.

It never failed to make me smile. She was trying really hard to get back on track with me and although I hadn't seen her in a week since my dad returned from Durban, she was consistent. The texts were always short and sweet, with well wishes for me to enjoy my day and even if we didn't text much during the day, it felt nice to know someone was thinking about me.

The last day of August fell on a Wednesday and that night, my dad returned home with a gift for me. It was contained in a Zara bag and my dad had the most expectant look on my face when he handed it to me.

"What's this for?" I asked as he passed the bag over to me after we finished watching a recorded episode of Suits,

"I wanted to spoil the most beautiful girl in the world is all," he replied. My dad was dressed in the matching grey sweatpants he and I had gotten and an old grey tee shirt from the first company he'd worked for when he moved to Pretoria.

I couldn't imagine what it is I must've done to get a dress from Zara of all places in the middle of the term where I wasn't even writing exams or participating in hockey season. Zara was one of those stores I'd never even gone in because I knew everything in there would make me feel horribly poor.

Nonetheless, I opened the bag and found that a layer of baby blue tissue paper covered the contents. I pulled that away and there, at the bottom of that shiny off-white bag there lay a yellow dress. I picked it up and gasped.

It was a gorgeous summer dress with a low back and a bell skirt and an exquisite hand-sewn pattern of bright flowers against a mustard yellow fabric.

"Dad..." I said.

"Tomorrow is your Spring Day, right?"

I nodded.

"And it's your last one because next year you'll be writing Prelims at this time, am I right?"

I nodded and felt a lump in my throat. I was suddenly so emotional, so happy and awed by the dress. There were no words that could explain just why I found it so beautiful and precious.

"Yes."

"I love you," he said and placed a tender kiss on my forehead, "do you like it?"

"I love it. I usually don't like yellow but this dress is so very pretty and it must've cost a fortune, Zara isn't exactly..."

"What matters is that you love it. You're the best daughter anyone could ever ask for, I love you very much," he repeated.

"I love you too Dad, thank you," I replied breathlessly.

×

The next morning, Anna replied to the message I'd sent last night about the pretty yellow Zara dress along with her daily good morning message:

Anna: It's so wonderful of your dad to get you that dress for Spring Day. I know you must be over the moon because you hated winter so much.I'd love to see how the dress looks on you, but only if you're comfortable with that and I hope that you have a great day. Spring is the season of rebirth and growth, I hope you achieve that.

I didn't really think twice about sending her the mirror selfie I'd taken that morning in the bathroom that I planned to upload on to Instagram later on today. I wore the dress with a pair of sandals my dad had gotten me last year, the golden bracelet from Zanzibar my dad had gotten me a few years back. My hair was tied up into a messy upper ponytail and a few curly strands framed my face. I dared to wear a little bit of makeup – my favourite nude gloss, a bit of eyeliner, mascara, shaped brows and concealer to hide some of the hideous dark spots I'd gotten last week. I felt pretty, like a flower that had bloomed after a harsh winter.

I was never one to truly believe in the symbolism in seasons before but this Spring Day felt different like new life was right around the corner and it would land on my palm like a tiny raindrop. It felt like the hardest season of my life had passed and something better and new was just around the bend.

I hadn't thought it possible but I'd survived half of an entire term without Amanda. I missed her terribly and I hoped she missed me too but whenever I ran into her at school, she always looked so indifferent, like our separation hadn't done a number on her as it had me. I'd tried to greet her once and she'd walked right past me. Now, I was learning to let it go, learning to cope with the realisation that we'd never be the friends we once were, (if we even ended up being friends, that is.)

On most days, that realisation was a heavy burden to bear but today, it wasn't. As soon as
I walked into the main gates and saw the myriads of colours from the entire student body because Spring Day meant no school uniforms, I felt at peace. A boy from my Business Studies class told me that I looked pretty when I passed the soccer field and so did one of my hockey teammates.

It was a gorgeous and warm day. I spent break time in easy conversation with a girl from my math class as opposed to reading books from the library. On the way home I bought myself a chocolate and as soon as I took my phone off of aeroplane mode, I got Anna's text:

Anna: You look lovely.

And I smiled.

×

My dad told me about his new girlfriend Anna Carson on January 12th, a Tuesday. I remembered this because it was the day right after the first day of grade 11. And today was September 6th, a Tuesday when my dad came into my bedroom a little past 21:00 and told me we needed to talk.

How many "talks" could I endure in a year?

I felt my throat clog up because something told me that what he wanted to tell me was far larger in magnitude than anything he'd ever live to tell me ever again. I felt so afraid and if I could I'd beg him to not say a thing, walk backwards and reverse out of my room so he wouldn't change the course of my life again.

But I didn't say anything as my dad settled onto my bed, still dressed in his work attire like whatever it was that he needed to tell me couldn't wait for him to change into home clothes.

"I'm just going to come right out and say this because there's no way for me to go about the bush with this. Paiten, Anna and I have broken up."

"When," I managed to croak out.

"Since the day I came back,"

"I'm so sorry," I said. And I was. Even though a part of me also felt the guilt that had built inside of me dissipate and another part of me felt warm that Anna was still reaching out to me even though she no longer needed to.

"Our relationship had run its course. We left on very amicable terms. I still deeply admire and respect her and I hope she feels the same about me."

"Who broke it off, you or her?"

"Me," Dad said.

He looked older. It was then that I realised that a few streaks of silver hair had manifested in the stubble he hadn't shaved in three days.

"Why?" I replied.

Dad looked into my eyes then and the light from my room illuminated their crisp, clear blueness. He pursed his lips and a tentative smile wobbled onto his lips.

"Because your mother and I have gotten back together."

Bingo.

×

"We reunited a few weeks ago by pure coincidence and we've been talking and I went to go see her in Durban, we've been together for a while now. I know this doesn't make any sense right now and I know you must be so confused and angry, you might even feel betrayed and that's all okay. Your mother wants to meet you, soon, Princess. I know it's a lot, please, don't cry," Dad said as he reached out his large palm to wipe away the tears that trailed down my face.

I hadn't even known I was crying. Perhaps it was more out of bewilderment than sadness because I couldn't believe the words that were coming out of his mouth. My mother was alive. And she was seeing him. And she wanted to meet me. She wanted to meet me. She wanted to meet me. 

"Where is she?" I asked.

"She stays in Durban right now but she's so keen to meet you but you're not obligated to, we'll understand if you don't, but you can set the rules. She's willing to meet you wherever you want her to. You can arrange it at your own time, it's all up to you Princess. But she just wants to talk to you for herself because she knows and I know that you have so many questions that she needs to answer for you. I'm so sorry to have to dump this on you all at once, we knew we couldn't waste any more time."

He pulled me into a hug.

That night I dreamt of myself in a meadow. A raindrop fell into my palm. It looked like what I imagined my mother's face would look like.

I'd yearned for my whole life to know the woman who'd conceived me and in my mind, it didn't make sense that I wait any longer. Delaying the inevitable wouldn't help anyone, especially me. So I told my dad I wanted to see her as soon as possible, here at home and ten days later my dad was on his way to O.R Tambo to pick her up so she could have lunch with us.

The first thing I'd done as soon as I'd woken up was reach for my phone and head to my WhatsApp. There were no chats under her name because I'd cleared them for the sake of my sanity. But I typed anyway.

Pait👑💖: i'm meeting my mom for the first time today, can you believe it? Dad said that they met by coincidence and have been seeing each other for a few weeks. she's on her way to see me now and i'm so afraid and excited – you alone know how much i've agonised over not knowing my mother and today i'll see her in the flesh. i'm so curios to many things. i want to know if her hair is as unruly as mine, if red is her favourite colour and how many sugars she likes to take in her tea (if she even is a tea person!) i wonder if i have any of her features. i bet i have her eyes, maybe her nose too. maybe she's as tiny as i am and maybe i have her smile. i hope she likes me. i really hope she likes me. and most of all i hope she's proud of me and the person i'm becoming. i hope that she'll take pride in the bright future in hockey that i have even though i'm not so book smart. i hope she'll like my friends, more especially you. it hurts so much that i can't share this experience with you right now. you were the first person i wanted to call when i found out but i remembered then that things aren't the same anymore. you'd have helped me pick an outfit for today, you'd have also done my hair for me because you know how little patience i have for this bothersome mane. you'd have done my makeup and you'd have shared my joy with me. i miss you so much, Manda. i really wish things weren't different from how they used to be.

(it sucks that i won't even have the courage to send this message and it will sit in this draft.)

I wore a pair of black jeans and a white plain tee shirt and sandals. I let my hair be. Dad and I ordered our home-cooked meals for today. At the moment the table was set for three spaces. We'd have rice, stew and chicken. Dad was going to let me have wine with him and my mom.

I didn't have to wait long to hear the rumble of my dad's car pulling into the driveway and five minutes later, the front door opened and I stood frozen in the passageway.

My dad got into the house first and behind him was the woman who'd given birth to me and was also the love of his life. She was perhaps, the most beautiful human being I'd ever laid eyes on.

She wasn't as short as me. Her heels made her a few millimetres taller than my dad. Her skin was the colour of brown clay mixed with fresh honey. Sharp, almond eyes gave way to high cheekbones, a long nose and thick brown lips.

Her hair was natural but it was treated into a soft, straight mass around her head. She wore a deep red jumpsuit and her eyes were wide with wonder, kind of like mine.

My dad was beside me, pulling me to his side, kissing my cheek. And then, "Ntombi, this is Paiten. Paiten, meet your mother."

The spot where she stood was illuminated by sunlight as if God himself was smiling down on us. We weren't even the most devout of his followers. Maybe she was.

And then he was leading me to her and she was stepping closer to me. She held out her arms tentatively, like she feared that if she did anything too sudden I'd run away.

I did the opposite.

Her voice sounded like melted chocolate on a croissant.

"Hello Paiten. I've waited so long for this."