Mommy ✓

four

C H A P T E R  F O U R

☆☆☆

My dad and I have a strong bond and he can read me like a book most times. There are other things though, that I rather he doesn't know, like my feelings towards his family.

My dad came from a tight-knit family of Afrikaaners who he loved and adored and would've done anything for. They loved him too, but their feelings towards me were a totally different matter altogether.

My Ouma Hester was turning sixty-four today and we had to go to her house in Irene for the intimate birthday party that she had every year. It wasn't something I was looking forward to and as much as I wanted to be excused from this day by making plans, I knew it would mean a lot to my dad if I was present.

These sort of gatherings required a lot of mental preparation beforehand and when Saturday finally rolled around, I had built an emotional armour out of steel. I woke up early to shower, dress and style my hair. I'd settled for a pair of blue jeans and a plain white tee - that I tucked in - with my Adidas sneakers. I left my mane of hair loose and it rested in frizzy curls down my back and shoulders.

Downstairs, my dad had already made breakfast and had just laid out our plates on the kitchen.

"Good morning," I said.

"Morning, Princess," he replied and pulled me into a loose one-armed hug and placed a light kiss on my forehead.

My dad was dressed in a pair of casual faded jeans, a blue pin-stripped shirt and loafers. His hair was neatly combed and he smelled of his wonderful aftershave.

My dad was excited to go and see his family. I could see it in his movements: the light spring of his step and the slight upturn of his upper lip.

"Eat up, Princess, we need to stop by Centurion Mall with Anna before we get to Ouma's."

"Anna is coming with us?" I asked. I didn't mean for it to sound like a negative statement and I certainly didn't mean to frown the way that I did, but my dad nodded.

"Yes, I want Ouma and the rest to meet her," his eyes crinkled and it almost hurt my heart to watch him so happy.

How can a man so intuitive and intelligent be so blind?

"Oh, alright," I replied. I ate the rest of my breakfast in silence.

Dad had made blueberry pancakes with a bowl of strawberries and hot chocolate, my most favourite dish.

We left the house half an hour later and made the trek to Centurion Mall. I sit in the passenger seat. My dad liked to listen to Talk Radio 702 so while the radio blared softly, I leaned my head against the window and watched the way the sun filtered through the trees as he drove in this January heat.

When we get to Centurion Mall, we meet up with Anna at the underground parking lot.

I decline going into the store with them to get Ouma's gift and migrate to the back seat for the last five minutes of the journey.

I tried to ignore the way my stomach twisted at the sight of Anna and my dad cuddled up so closely as they walked into the mall.

They returned fifteen minutes later, with a parcel wrapped in sensible white wrapping paper. Ouma's house from Centurion Mall was only fifteen minutes away, in Irene.

Centurion Mall was further out than the modest Irene neighbourhood Ouma lived in, but the mall was the closest place that had the store Dad had wanted to go to.