44
by Olivia Barham
“Hello Liv!”
In the 15 years I had been away, Dad home?” I had booked tickets for Oriana, Dad looks up from the paper he hides
had never called me. my three-year old daughter, and myself behind but doesn’t read. The paper
Not once. Mother called every two or in July. He knew I was coming in July. politely relieves him from participating
three months and if he was walking by So his asking me when, was his way of on any level, but allows him the freedom
the phone at the time, she’d say, “Do asking me to come now. I changed the to listen. It’s as close as he can get to
you want to talk to Livvi?” and he’d tickets for the following week. connection, and no one has ever tried,
take the phone and say, “Hello Liv - Its been almost a year since I was home. or wanted to try, to lure him deeper into
everything OK?” “Yes, it’s great Dad.” We take tea in the lounge. The scrutiny, the family. There’s no room for another
“OK then, I’ll pass you back to Mother.” judgement and criticism, which Mother opinion anyway, since mother’s takes
That was pretty much the extent of it. has fired at my life-style in the past, up all the space. He doesn’t look well,
So when he actually went to the trouble are now re-directed to my parenting but nobody’s mentioning it, so I choose
of looking up the number in the book, style. And as usual, I am not even in the not to either.
dialling the international code and ballpark for approval and acceptance. Oriana toddles innocently over to
getting through to me in Hollywood, “When are you going to come to your his chair and pats the back of the
I knew something was the matter. senses Livvi and come home? Living newspaper. She reaches her arms
“Hello Liv. Everything OK?” “Er..Yes alone with an illegitimate child, it’s just towards him pleadingly, “Up?
Dad…what’s up?” “Oh nothing really. not right. You need help from people Up Ganpa?” Dad smiles at her
The doctor came today. Says I’m going who know what they’re doing. We think uncomfortably and retreats back behind
to have a wheelchair, the diabetes has you should come home, don’t we Jack? the paper. I am reminded of the times
infected my heart. But you won’t see me Let us take care of you, find you a nice my heart longed for the touch, or words
in a wheelchair. When are you coming husband.” of affection from my secretly beloved
avantoure | anthology of temptation
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