Page 116 of Terms Of Un-Endearment
My brain is still unwinding, giving me glimpses of an image of Dad on the beach—not in the water with me—unaware of Frankie struggling on her board as he yells instructions to me at the same time my instructor calmly tells me to focus on him, not Dad.
I quickly shake it away. “Yeah, nah. I’m not sure what I’d do if Dad cut me off.”
“Get a job and a crap apartment, same as the rest of us.” She laughs again, and there’s less hurt than before.
"Oh, you’re keen on your crap apartment?" I tease back.
"I’m keen on having my independence. I likekeepingmy own money. I like making my own choice about who I'm going to marry." Her shoes squeak across the linoleum floor, emphasizing each of her bullet points, while also crushing them.
When I picture the thick-soled runners Frankie wears during her eight-hour shifts, I’m only more convinced I should preserve my relationship with Dad. Not just for the money, but because I believe he truly wants what’s best for Frankie and me. And even though she seems happy on her own, it’s hard for me to accept it.
“You can live your life however you want,” Frankie says, “But that’s the key. Knowing what you want and fighting for that.”
I clutch my mobile tighter and stoop down to pick up a soft drink can someone left behind and drop it in the rubbish bin. “I'm not ready to sever ties, Frankie. I like Dad. I want to be part of his life…but I want more say in my future.”
Seconds tick by before Frankie speaks in a softer voice than before. "It's interesting you say 'like' instead of 'love.'"
"I do love him, okay?" I shoot back.
“Okay.” Another pause. “That doesn't mean Dad gets to choose your life for you. I love him too, but I'm happier without him pretending he wants what’s best for me when, actually, he just wants what’s best for him."
I let those words sink in.
Would I be happier if I didn’t have contact with Dad? Would it be a huge stress out of my life, not having to worry about pleasing him? Or would I feel a loss?
I don’t know.
And I don’t think I’m ready to find out.
I should’ve known Frankie would turn my problem into therapy instead of a brainstorming session, and I’m keen to get off her metaphorical couch now.
I’m nearly to Kenzo, my favorite sushi place. Surprisingly, there’s not a line out the door, which is a sign I should wrap up this conversation and get in before the place fills up. "I’ll consider what you’ve said, but what I really need is encouragement. Am I crazy to believe I can start a surf wear brand or run my own company?"
She lets out a laugh. “If I didn’t believe you could do it, why would I come up with the name Bombora?”
“You? I thought of that name!”
“You’re misremembering, but I don’t have time to argue, so I’ll let you take credit for that piece of genius.”
“I wouldn’t go so far asgenius,” I mutter on the wisps of a vague recollection of her telling me Bombora would be a perfect name for my brand. It not only sounds cool, but surfers will recognize it immediately as what Australians call a large wave breaking over a shallow area offshore. The reef or rocks create powerful, rideable waves in deep water.
“It’s genius, and you know it.” Frankie laughs. “But the real question we need to discuss is why Cynthia wants a house Dad used for cheating on her, anyway?”
“She doesn't want it for herself. Piper’s got an internship in LA. I reckon Cynthia chose to settle on the house for her.” I rehash everything Piper has told me—which isn’t a lot—about her temporary job at Valente.
“Wow. LBP is all grown up.” Frankie tosses out the nickname I’d almost forgotten I gave to Piper. LBP was code for Little Bratty Piper. I used to talk about LBP when Piper was around, so she wouldn’t know for sure—only suspect—I was talking about her.
“Yeah. You could say that.”I will not think about Piper’s leopard undies.
“So, Dad wants you out Monday because she’s moving in?”
The distraction in Frankie’s voice and the sound of clinking plates and glasses is a signal her break is almost up, and the only thing I’ve accomplished is getting a lecture on independence and confusing her about the details.
“Piper is actually in LA already. Her internship starts on Monday. She showed up before anyone had a chance to tell me I was supposed to sign the deed back to Dad by today.”
“Wait, Piper is living in the house with you, and Britta and Dex?”
I close my eyes and take a breath, steeling myself for another lecture. “Britta and Dex are still in Fiji on their honeymoon.”
