Mikaal

37: Mikaal

The song 'Riptide' blared through his phone speakers.

"So where were we?" A small smile tugged at his lips. "Oh, that's right, your dress..."

Dalia's heartbeat quickened as her cheeks flushed once again.

"So Dalia..." he began, his tone different as he looked at her, "hope you haven't made too many birthday plans?"

Having a straightforward question to answer, she found her voice."I usually dine out with my family."

"Anything in the day?"

Dalia picked up her iPhone.

"Do you have to consult your calendar?"

"Hey, it's not like that," she said, peering into his eyes. "You know I don't like breaking promises I've made..."

He reached over for her hand, covering it with his larger one, its warmth matching his smiling eyes that said he understood.

"Looks like I can squeeze you in," she said in a teasing tone.

He beamed. "Great, so..." He exaggerated a look of mysteriousness. "Off-course, it's going to be a surprise."

Dalia rolled her eyes, but she grinned. "Okay, so what am I doing, wearing, going to this time?"

He looked excited, more than usual. "Meet me at Scarborough Beach in swimming clothes."

"Dalia... Dalia... Dalia!"

"Dalia," a voice cajoled Dalia back into consciousness. She became aware that her body was being lightly shaken.

"What?" Her voice came out as a groan.

"Sorry..."

Dalia squinted as her eyes adjusted to the light that streamed through the gaps between her Venetian blinds. It was her father.

She felt wary when she remembered his conversation with her mother a few days ago. She tried to hide the pain in her eyes, blinking and rubbing her eyelids.

It was now the weekend; uni started on Monday. But her search for the CT scans during the days she had left had met dead ends. The unlabelled sections in the filing cabinet should have been marked 'miscellaneous', storing random documents that could really be thrown away, such as donation receipts from over five years ago. The frustrating part was that she wasn't even sure if she was searching for documents that existed—and the painful part was the knowledge that her parents were deliberately hiding information from her. She was estranged from her best friend because of his blatant lies, but her own family...

"Sweetheart?"

Had her father asked her a question? Dalia looked at his face but avoided his eyes. "Sorry?"

"I made pancakes... Do you want some?"

Dalia blinked again, this time out of surprise; it was normal to see her father in front of their barbecue, but in the kitchen making something? She eventually shrugged.

"It's not good to keep skipping breakfast..."

'So you have noticed,' Dalia thought, but she maintained her poker face and stretched her body.

"I've made them the way you like it," he said, his tone hopeful.

She looked into her father's hazel eyes for the first time. Had he grown older in the last week? "Okay," she said reluctantly.

She took her time getting out of bed then followed her father to the dining table. Three imperfect circles were haphazardly stacked on two plates, complete with maple syrup, whipped cream and fresh strawberries—her favourite combination. She sat and her father joined her in the chair opposite.