Page 71 of Thigh Highs
“We’ll find somewhere to be alone tomorrow,” she whispers, then steps away. “Among other things, we do need totalk.”
I swallow. I know she means we need to talk about Tiff, and she’s right. We may have gotten swept away in all the transcontinental craziness for the time being, but I still owe her more of an explanation before I’ll be able to say things between us are truly fixed. She may have told her family I’m her boyfriend, but I don’t think we’re in the clearyet.
“Yeah,” I say, “wedo.”
She gives me one last kiss on the cheek goodnight and then points my way towards the bathroom before heading upstairs. A series of explosively loud creaks follow her as she goes and I can’t help but laugh. She flips me the bird just as she disappears fromview.
I start gathering up my towel and toothbrush when Christina’s dad walks into theroom.
“Olá,” he says in a flat tone, his expressionblank.
“Olá...sir,” is my awkwardreply.
He steps further into the living room and takes a seat on a padded leather armchair. I stay standing until he gives a pointed look at the couch and I follow his queue tosit.
“So,” he begins, “you are theidiotawho was thinking it would be a good idea to hurt mydaughter.”
His hands bunch into fists and I hurry to explainmyself.
“Sir, just to be clear, I never wanted to hurt your daughter. That was always the last thing I wanted to do. She’s an amazing, amazing woman and I’m sure you know that better than even I do. I was an idiot; I have no problem admitting to that, and I hurt her because of it, but I do care about her. I alwayshave.”
Christina’s dad just narrows his eyes. “She told me you loved another woman, that you lied to her. This is how you care abouther?”
“That’s...” I trail off, looking away. Talking to Christina, someone I know and trust, about Tiff is still difficult. Her dad is a complete stranger and the last thing I want to do right now is go into details with him about the most painful thing that’s ever happened to me. I know how much Christina cares about him though, and I think it would bother her more than she lets on if he didn’t approve ofme.
I turn back to look into the wrinkled, tan skin of his face and begin. “I did love somebody before your daughter, and I should have told Christina about her, but I didn’t. It...It hurt too much. I was afraid of that pain.” I force myself to breathe in and out a few times before I continue. “She died, the woman I loved. She was there one day and then she was gone. I didn’t think I’d feel that way about someone again, but then I met your daughter, and she...she changedeverything.”
I should feel more self-conscious about opening up like this, but it feels almost cathartic, like giving a confession. I start to worry that I’m violating some kind of Portuguese code of manliness by getting so emotional, but then I notice that Christina’s dad has relaxed his fists and gathered his hands in hislap.
“When I was very young,” he says in a quiet voice, his eyes glazing over as he stares into the past, “just sixteen, I loved a girl in this village. I know you are thinking sixteen is too young to love, but we are passionate people. I know this is what I felt. It is also what she felt. We were very much inlove.”
He sighs, and the lines between his eyes deepen. “Then she became very sick, too sick for the doctors here. Her family took her to Lisbon and I did not hear from her again. Our love had to be secret; we were so young, youunderstand?”
I nod and he continues. “She died in Lisbon. I did not know until they brought her back to bury her. I thought they buried my heart too, but then one day I met Christina’smamãe, and as you say, everything changed. I remember her though, this girl from when I was young. I remember her still.” He closes his eyes. “Lara. Her name wasLara.”
“Tiff,” I whisper. “Her name wasTiffany.”
The house is silent, except for the distant noise of crashing waves that drifts in through the open window. A shudder runs through me. For a moment, we just sit there, two strangers swept up in the sametide.
When Christina’s dad finally breaks the silence, I almost jump at the sound. “Are you familiar with the rock band AC/DC?” heasks.
It’s such an abrupt change of topic that I just blink at him for a second. Then I remember Christina said they’re his favourite band and I figure this might be some kind of test of character. “Uh, yeah, I am familiar. They’regreat.”
He nods. “Yes. The most great. Do you know the song called ‘RideOn’?”
“I haven’t heard it,” I answerhonestly.
“It is a song about feeling lonely, about feeling regret, but riding on when there is nothing else to do. Sometimes I think about thosewords.”
He gets up from the couch and when he moves past me towards the staircase I assume the conversation is finished. The first few stairs make a series of ominous creaks and I hear his footstepspause.
“I still do not think you deserve to be with myamorzinho, but I have seen her with you. She is happy. She worries too much and you make her not worry. For this, I thankyou.”
I turn around to answer, but he’s already out ofsight.
After taking a long overdue shower and brushing my teeth, I unfold the blankets on the couch and lay down. I’m halfway to falling asleep the second my body hits the cushions, but I force myself to reach for myphone.
I search for ‘Ride On’ by AC/DC. I don’t have my headphones with me, so I turn the volume down as low as I can and listen to the lyrics Christina’s dad described. I fight to keep myself from drifting off, but I fall asleep before the end of the song. The slow waltz of the melody follow me into mydreams.
