The Art of Starting Over

Chapter 66 - Revelations

I see my father waiting for me on a quaint rattan chair at a small table for two, pretending to read a newspaper. I try to calm my nerves and will myself to be patient, keep an open mind.

"I was worried you wouldn't come," he says genuinely sounding relieved when I approach him. The corner of his mouth pulls slightly as he motions for me to sit and quickly puts away his paper.

"So, Jeremy says you'll be staying for a couple of nights," I start, wishing he was beside me right now.

God, I hate how I still need him.

"Three," Mark answers. "Then I have to go back to the centre. I'm on leave at the moment. But I'm doing well. I haven't set foot in a casino for over a year. And I haven't bought any lotto tickets or scratch cards or anything in almost six months. But I go back every week for my session with the therapist and sometimes they take tests to see if I've been drinking..."

He stops weakly as he tries to gauge my reaction. I feel sorry for him. I hate seeing him reduced to this. I can barely associate him with the strong, confident man he used to be. I reach out over the table and place my hand over his.

"That's great, Dad," I say, my voice coming out void of emotion.

The waiter comes up to us to take our order. "I'll just have a coffee, please. Black, no sugar."

"Aren't you going to eat anything, champ?" he says, his face crestfallen.

"I'm not hungry," I reply softly. I don't want to upset him.

He orders an egg and cheese salad and a bottle of sparkling water.

"So, tell me," he says as soon as the waiter disappears. "What have you been up to?"

What have I been up to?

"Well, I... I'm working in a school and I'm studying. I just started, really. I started English and Philosophy classes last summer, then I enrolled for a diploma, but I had to stop when Millie got sick. And then she passed on and I sort of had a bit of a rough time after that. I couldn't really focus on studying at all. But now, since I've been living with Jeremy, I'm trying to get back on track."

I stop talking, astonished at how simple it all sounds. The reality is something else altogether though.

"Yes, Jeremy. How do you two know each other?"

"I used to work for him."

What the hell, Ally?

"Used to?" Mark presses.

"Yeah. He had a store. I used to work there. But he sold it and now he's renovating this amazing house. He's turning it into a boutique hotel. It's beautiful and it's really great for him. It's his dream..."

My voice trails off. I don't know why I'm getting all choked up. I'm so proud of him, despite everything...

Good God, what the hell is wrong with me?

I clear my throat and lift my eyes back to Mark.

"I see," he says, clearly not satisfied with my answer. "But how did you end up living with him then?"

Not even if we had all the time in the world would I be able to answer that. So, instead I just say, "He was really good friends with Nanna Millie. She adored him because he can cook really well." I feel like such a fraud. "Well, it wasn't just that... He was there for her when she was sick. And for me. And after she died he dug me out of a pretty deep hole."

And shoved me into an even deeper one...

"Yeah," he sighs, after a while. "So, this living arrangement, is it temporary?"