Simmer & Stir

Chapter 16

Linda's excitement of getting me home diminished as soon as she walked inside the apartment. The moment her phone chimed up, she moved around the living room, peeling her cuticles to resemble someone who was hatching a rotten plan.

"Is everything alright?" I asked. Her reply came as a head bob. Sensing there was something hidden behind her dilated eyes and constant throat clearing, I pulled her to the quicksand couch of ours. "You can tell me if something's bothering you."

I could feel her cogs churning, processing my words. Lamenting over any situation wasn't Linda's forte, it was mine. Yet that day, she was portraying the role of someone else.

She turned towards me, rubbing her face with both her hands. "You know how my dad wanted to reconcile things with me?" Upon my nod, she rolled up her sleeves and continued, "He wants me to come home. There are things that we never talked about and he wants to address them."

Over my stay, I had learnt a few things about Linda's family. Abandoned by her father at a young age, she and her mother made through most of it alone. They reconciled just before her demise due to cancer but by then Linda had festered up the dislike for her father.

"You don't want to go?" I asked, picking her face up. The silent reply came through her tear brimming eyes.

"He has sponsored my studies. I don't have much choice. Every time he wants me to do something which I don't, he hangs that debt over my head. Tuition fees and such. I am indebted to him."

"Ohh, that moron," I murmured before the realization hit me. It was Linda's father I was cussing. "I mean..."

"Don't apologize," she chuckled and wiped her reddened nose up her sleeves. "He is a grade A moron."

"Hey, do you want me to come with you?" Knowing I could do more damage than good, it was the only offer I could think of. She tousled my neatly placed hair before climbing out of our couch pit. When she walked into the room, as a gesture of roommate support, I followed. "You still haven't told me about the couch. That murder pit that rests in our apartment."

Stretching her hands, she yawned the day's tiredness, grabbing her attire for the next shenanigan that was to follow. Walking into the washroom, her muffled voice emerged.

"It was moms. We used to lay on it and watch tv when I was little." Emerging outside, Linda twirled in her jeans and noodle strap top. I gave her a thumbs up. "That may be a worn-down couch but it always reminds me of her."

Somehow felt closer to Linda after her share. She cemented the remnants of the exposed friendship bonds with her words.

"Okay, wish me luck," she breath out through her mouth, grabbing her bag and rolling her eyes. "Pray that I don't knock myself out at a bar and actually make it to his place."

"You sure I shouldn't come?" Given that she exhibited all signs of a person who wanted to avoid meeting her dad, I felt concerned. Also, the thought of Philip with his ex, ran like a sprinter through my mind. A distraction was necessary. "I can be ready in a jiffy."

"No hon," she kissed my side cheek and ran out the door. "Nigh, babes."

"Night," was barely a reciprocation. In the loneliness of the apartment, I looked around - a person lost at an intersection, trying to get their bearings in order. When the doorbell rang up, I hopped out of the couch and rushed to the door.

"What did you forget?" was my question to Linda upon opening but it was Philip who stood at the threshold, holding his cane with both hands.

"You," he whispered. "I mean, I didn't forget you. I just missed you."