Silver Tides (Silver Tides Series) (10 page)

The moment came and went quickly. George bounded off the couch to call the real estate agent, while Sophia resumed showing us more photos. I sat back beside Daniel, he intertwined his fingers with mine, grasping my hand like a life preserver.

There were no photos of their last yacht trip, which struck me as odd since they'd chronicled every other minutia of his life, including a photo of the cereal he liked to eat. Daniel willed himself to remember, without results. Room service delivered lunch and snacks until the sun was setting. The majority of the day had disappeared without us really noticing.

"You can stay with us tonight," Sophia asked, gently. "There's a spare room."

I could see Daniel wrestling with the desire to be with his parents or me.

"I've hardly seen my parents," I shrugged. "Stay, and we'll catch up tomorrow."

"Let me drive you home at least," Daniel agreed, relieved to have the decision made for him.

Sophia hugged me again. "Thank you so much." Her words were weighted with so much more than convincing Daniel to stay. Her gratitude left me confused. Sophia hugged Daniel again with such vigor that I wondered if she'd ever let go.

"Come on, Mum," Daniel complained jovially, "it's like you haven't seen me in over two years."

George laughed at the jest, adding, "Just don't let it be another two; we expect you home tonight."

"Sure thing, Pops," Daniel replied, giving him a handshake hug.

We got into the archaic Nissan Pulsar that Daniel was borrowing from his foster carers; I knew it would be the last time I'd see the Blue Bomb. A pang of sorrow filled me for the car that held so many fond memories.

"I guess we can farewell the Blue Bomb," I said, realizing I would miss it. "I don't suppose you remember owning a Ford Focus convertible?" I joked.

"Ford Focus convertible is what you think, when you think of luxury cars!" Daniel teased.

"I'm a simple girl, of simple persuasions." I giggled, giving him a pointed look.

"Hey!" Daniel laughed at the shrouded insult. "I guess my life won't be so simple after today. Heir to a fortune and all..."

"You don't remember anything?" I asked, sensing the confusion in his statement.

"The first thing I remember is you," he replied, squeezing my hand. "I feel fine. The doctors said I was healthy."

We drove in silence, listening to the shock jocks laugh at their own jokes as the town whizzed by.

"I don't know what to think," Daniel said quietly after some contemplation. "It's all so overwhelming. A week ago I didn't know if my parents abandoned me or if they'd died and I was the only survivor of a fishing trip or something. Now I'm the son of the richest oil magnate in the country … I thought I'd been missing for a couple of months, and it's been a couple of years. Where was I? What happened to me? Did I fall overboard and hit my head? Has this swelling been in my brain the last two years? Why can't I remember? And do I even want to remember? My life is pretty sweet right now; what if I remember and it's terrible and I never sleep again."

He parked the car out the front of my house and put his head on the steering wheel.

"Push your seat back," I ordered.

Confused, he complied as I climbed over the gear stick and straddled him awkwardly. I kissed his jaw line up to his ear and down to his lips, savoring his cologne that smelled like the sea. I claimed his lips as he pulled me against his body.

"To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven," I told him before gently kissing his lips.

"Did you just quote Scripture to me?" he razzed, laughing.

"And the Byrds," I agreed. "You'll get your memory back, and till you do we'll make some of our own memories."

"I like the sound of that." He smiled, sliding his hands onto my waist.

"You're so cold," I shuddered.

"Aren't you supposed to be naked to warm me up?" he joked.

"Maybe when Mrs. Wrinkler isn't standing outside staring at us," I responded, waving at my neighbor who was pretending to water her garden. Her steel-blue eyes were shiny from cataract surgery, and she enjoyed ogling Daniel almost as much as Jaimie did.

"You'll come to the hotel tomorrow," he asked, hopefully.

"Yes," I replied, playfully. "I'll just have to clear it with the olds."

"Mya," Daniel asked soberly, "do you still like me? Despite the oil mogul father who would burn the ocean for a buck?"

I smiled, his insecurity was endearing. "All I see is you; nothing else matters."

I kissed him one last time before awkwardly sliding out the driver’s door. I went inside, where my parents were setting the table.

"The prodigal daughter returns," Mum joked. "No John?"

"No Daniel," I corrected, happily.

"He remembered!" Mum exclaimed, clearly pleased.

"No, his parents, Sophia and George Esso, reminded him," I explained.

"As in the oil magnates?" Mum gasped, almost dropping one of our mismatched plates.

"The one and the same." I nodded enthusiastically.

"They attract oil?" Dad asked, confused.

"Magnate, not magnet." I laughed.

"Stupid language." Dad shook his head, frustrated. "Everything sounds the same, but different meaning. Russian is a simple language, you spell the words the way you pronounce them." Dad’s brief foray into trying to teach me Russian had been significantly different to his statement, but there was no point in starting an argument.

I filled my parents in on the new developments; Mum looked more worried with each detail.

"So Daniel," she said deliberately, "will be returning with his parents to Sydney?"

"No, they're all staying here," I buzzed.

"Invite them for dinner," Dad announced jovially. Despite being rejected by endless employers he was trying to keep a strong facade. Each day the strain was increasing and I had seen him self-medicating from the liqueur cabinet once or twice. I would have traded my best shoes for Dad to share his real feelings, but he was not that kind of guy. So Mum and I let him deal with it the only way he knew how, stoically.

"I'm sure they're too busy relocating to have dinner here," Mum hedged. It was unlike Mum to avoid company; she relished the opportunity to entertain. I figured it was the Esso’s commitment to destroying the planet that put Mum on edge.

"I already told them we picketed the oil rig," I assured.

"Gee, thanks, Mya," Mum said sarcastically. "I guess if they're free..."

Mum surveyed the dining room like a crime scene. "You'll have to fix the chairs, Paul; half of them are broken, and the other half will break if you sit in them."

"Which half are we sitting on now?" Dad retorted, getting the upper hand.

"The half that if they break off into any of our butts will not cost millions of dollars," Mum replied, sarcastically.

"Then they can sit on the couch," Dad responded.

I laughed at the childish tit for tat quipping.

"You don't get to laugh," Mum replied, pointing the salad tongs at me. "You'll need to help clean the whole house."

"Let’s see if they're free before we freak out," I told them.

Mum seemed pleased to let the whole matter drop.

I looked around the dining room. The table took up the majority of the room; no two chairs matched the table or each other. An oversized black kitchen hutch rested against the wall, overstuffed with photos, cheap china, and Russian memorabilia. I tried to look at our home like Daniel's parents might. It left me feeling awkward, and a little embarrassed. I pushed the feelings away, reminding myself of how much my parents meant to me. No matter how rundown or mismatched everything was, my parents had provided me with a happy and secure childhood. They were the diving board that gave me confidence to jump into life. I was proud of them despite their weirdness. Daniel loved our plastic-covered couches and the coffee table held up by books. My home may not have graced the covers of moneybags magazine, but it had character.

"I'll ask them when they're available," I told Mum.

unexpected gifts

Sophia was desperate to meet my family. The weekend was nominated for the parental mixer. My parents reversed their roles, Dad being calm and unconcerned about guests, while Mum became the designated worrier.

The Esso family arrived promptly at six. Mum rushed to the door, surveying the foyer that had been cleared of Dad’s unused exercise equipment and junk. The floors had been vacuumed, the couches were plastic-cover-free, and our ad-hoc furniture had been cleaned vigorously. Mum smoothed her caramel curls before answering the door.

"Hi, I'm April," Mum introduced herself. "It's so nice to meet you both."

Dad rushed forward and kissed George and Sophia on both cheeks Russian style, which they took in their stride. I was sincerely glad that Dad didn’t know them well enough to kiss them on the lips like he did with his uncles and cousins in Russia.

Sophia and Mum connected immediately, having found affinity in loving
Bold and the Beautiful
and Willow Tree figurines. It took a half bottle of Unicum for Dad and George to discover their spark.

“That’s powerful stuff,” George spluttered after his first mouthful of Unicum.

“Hungarian contraband,” Dad replied, winking. “Vodka is an everyday drink, but Unicum is for special occasions.”

“I appreciate your hospitality,” George replied with alcohol cheer, raising his glass for a refill.

The meal went a million times better than I expected. I had prepared for the worst—that the Essos would look down on my parents or that my mum’s activism or Dad’s ethnicity would create tension. I was sure when Mum said grace, the Esso’s would run from our home. Strangely, the parents became fast friends immediately. As the night wound down Sophia became increasingly anxious until she finally burst.

"We want to give you something for bringing Daniel home to us," Sophia said self-consciously.

Mum immediately shook her head and held her hands up in protest. “There’s no need.”

“There really is,” George responded, pulling a slip of paper from his coat and handing it to mum. Her mouth fell open and Dad nearly fell off his seat when they read it.

"This is too much," Mum said decidedly, trying to return the cheque.

"It's nothing compared to the joy of having Daniel home," Sophia insisted, refusing Mum’s attempts to return the cheque.

"We wouldn't feel right accepting it," Mum tried again.

"Speak for yourself!" Dad disagreed, the Unicum breaking down his inhibitions.

I looked at Daniel for an explanation about the cheque, and he just shrugged with a comical grin.

"It was the reward we put out last year for information that led to Daniel’s return. Mya brought Daniel home; it's only right you accept the reward," George shrugged, languid from the Unicum.

I’d never seen Mum so overwhelmed. “Still, it’s a lot, and I would hate for it to stand between our friendship.”

“We would feel like we owe you something unless you accept it,” Sophia reasoned. “That would be a terrible way to start a friendship.”

Dad gave Mum a look imploring her to accept the money.

"Thank you," she agreed, awkwardly.

Dad did another round of gratitude kisses, while Mum gave George and Sophia self-conscious hugs. I said a polite thank you, wondering how much it was. A few hundred dollars would help a lot with our financial situation, I was grateful for the gesture.

"I was also hoping you would help me decorate the house we bought today," Sophia said, as though buying a house was like purchasing a coffee. "Mya told me you were an interior designer for a time."

"Sure," Mum agreed. "I enjoy spending other people's money."

George and Sophia laughed; it seemed settled that the Essos and Belans were going to be fast friends.

Mum and Sophia scheduled a viewing of the house while George insisted Dad join him for a round of golf. George’s influence seemed to make Dad a yuppie overnight.

As our parents trooped out to the car, talking loudly about their plans, Daniel hung back.

“I left my coat in Mya’s room,” Daniel told his parents. He took my hand and we walked briskly to my room. I was sure that Daniel wanted a quick pash session or at least to fill me in on the cheque amount.

"Where’s your coat?" I asked, coyly.

"In the car," he replied, his face filled with uncertainty.

All amorous thoughts evaporated. "What's going on?" I asked, worried.

He scraped his hands through his hair as though scratching his head would soothe the itch in his brain. “I don’t know,” he replied, bewildered.

His anxiety made me anxious too. “Is it your parents?”

For once I was grateful for Dad’s inability to communicate. It had taught me that the best way to get answers was to ask lots of questions. Now I was using the same technique with Daniel.

“Yes, I mean no.” He sighed, searching my face for answers that only he knew. “I remember my childhood…”

I waited for why Daniel was behaving like it was bad news.

“My dad was never around, my mum was a total socialite, and I was raised by our nanny Freida.” Daniel sighed heavily. “They never had time for me, and now they’re here… Don’t you find it strange that my parents would move across the country to accommodate me? My dad is doing work via Skype and riding our personal jet to Sydney for meetings. This is a guy who missed my sixth birthday party because he didn’t want David Hasselhoff to beat him in a celebrity golf tournament.”

“Yes, it’s weird, but in light of losing a child… You were missing for over two years.” I shrugged. “That changes people’s priorities.”

“Here’s the other weird thing.” He sighed, slumping onto my unmade bed before he fixed me with his eyes. “I didn’t fall overboard the day I went missing. I remember my dad throwing me off the yacht.”