19
Ryan
Isprint into the café, Mum following behind. Ian’s in the garage fixing his bike, and wouldn’t have got here in time, so Riley called me; I just was at home, enjoying my morning off. I left in a hurry and went to find Mum, who was out searching for Dad. They’d gone out to run some errands, but while she was paying at the till, Dad had quietly wandered off: Mum, blinded by panic, couldn’t find him anywhere. He must have walked off down the high street and lost his bearings.
I approach the table where Christine is sitting with Dad. Mum takes my arm and asks me under her breath to calm down, and take a few steps back. We never know how to behave when this happens, whether Dad will just be confused or be angry and irritable. So we hang back a moment, waiting to see how he’ll react.
He’s talking to Christine, smiling while she holds his hand. She’s calming him down. They sit, sipping their coffees together with something to eat, like two old friends. He’s relaxed, he feels safe, at home.
She makes him feel like that.
“What a sweet girl,” Mum whispers to me.
I nod, my jaw clenched.
“Hey, I came as soon as I could,” Nick says loudly, storming into the café with enough of a racket to make Christine look up from their conversation.
She smiles at us and nods, while Mum slowly makes her way over to their table. She gently places her hand on the back of Dad’s chair, trying to discreetly enter into their conversation.
“Ian’s on his way,” Nick tells me. “He couldn’t head over right away, he was working on his bike.”
“It’s alright, I was around. I can handle stuff like this on my own, you know.”
“It’s not a competition, Ryan.”
I ignore him and go over to the table too, but in silence.
A few customers come in, and Christine gets up and excuses herself. My father says goodbye, thanking her and extending his hand, then she heads back behind the counter.
“Do you know her?” asks Nick, coming over to us.
“Not very well, I’ve only been here a few times.”
“Well, we should thank her.”
“Sure. I’ll do it.”
Nick sits down with our parents, and I approach the counter, where she’s starting up the coffee machine. I clear my throat and she looks up.
“Er…” I stammer, incapable of telling her what I need to tell her, my stomach turning somersaults.
“I saw him outside, he seemed…confused.”
I sigh, painfully.
“They’ve been coming here for years, and I’ve never seen him like this.”
“He has his moments,” I say vaguely.
“I understand,” she arranges some mugs onto a tray, then nods at a girl to take them over to one of the tables. “Can I get you anything?”
“No, I’m fine, thanks…”
“I’ll take you up on that,” Nick interjects. “Could I have a cappuccino and a sandwich? I don’t mind which, anything’s good. I was out early this morning and I didn’t get to have breakfast.”
“Sure,” she smiles at him.
She smiled at Nick.
