Mike and Sarah Pt. 02: Love Building

Once outside I joke with her, "I thought you were taking me lingerie shopping when you pulled me in there."

She looks at me seriously for a second before replying, "Mike, I'll never take you lingerie shopping with me, when I wear lingerie for you I want it to be a surprise. I want to see the look on your face when I reveal myself to you. I also never want you to buy me lingerie, that will be something special I get to do for you. The first time you should see any new lingerie is no more than 5 minutes before you take it off."

I pull her in for a gentle kiss, before letting her lead us further into the shopping centre. After about 45 minutes of wandering around I finally declare it's time for lunch, heading into the food hall I ask her what she wants, in an answer I could've predicted ahead of time she tells me she doesn't mind. Looking at the options and not wanting anything heavy I lead us over to the taco bar and ask for a mixed selection of 6 tacos, with a small side or tortilla chips with mixed salsas and guac.

After the meal, she checks the time and sadly declares she should be getting home to meet the girls. On the bus home, she leans against me humming contentedly holding my right hand in both of hers. As my bus stop approaches she gives a quick kiss and thanks me for a lovely morning before staying on to go the extra few stops back to her place.

Arriving at home I keenly feel her absence even though it's only going to be a few hours until I see her again. After I drop her shopping in the bedroom I'm suddenly caught up with a pile of nervous energy. In just a few hours for better or worse, we're going to take a new step, I'm going to show her at least a piece of me that I don't share easily. I tried to feel reassured by her words the other night when she told me there was nothing I could tell that would change how she felt. I desperately wanted to trust that thought but in the moment I just couldn't. Desperate to release some of the energy I decide to go for a run. I go on my favourite 5-mile loop hoping the run will calm me, it helps a little as I get home a little under an hour later, desperately in need of a shower. As I try to relax under the hot water I realise I'm going to have at least one more shower before I meet her so I turn the shower into a rinse to remove the worst of the sweat.

Having dried myself off I check the time and realise I still have about 4 hours to kill, knowing my thoughts will build again, I decide to go to the pub. I have no intention of drinking but I am hopeful the company will keep my negative thoughts at bay. Walking into the sports side of the bar I find a group of the old regulars watching football. They cheer at my entrance, "Alright Smithy get yourself over here and tell Bob here why the South Africans will always be shit at rugby" Mark one of the old boys shouts.

I chuckle to myself knowing it's an old joke, despite growing up on that side of the world my hatred of South African rugby will always be constant. The bartender on duty goes to pour my regular pint and is shocked when I stop him asking for an orange juice with a soda top. For a second it feels like the whole pub is silent at my request. I think I'm imagining it but it turns out it's real, having collected my soft drink and moving to join the old boys, Bob looks at my drink and in a loud voice challenges me, "What the fuck is that Smith?" he says putting on his teacher's voice.

Quietly I try and explain that I have plans later and don't want to drink, unfortunately, there are few secrets in the pub so Mark rejoins the conversation, "Don't tell me that new bit of stuff I've seen you with is monitoring your drink".

His description of Sarah as 'a bit of stuff' makes my anger flare but before I can respond my brain kicks in and reminds me that this is how the old boys talk and reacting to it is akin to asking for it to get worse. Instead, I fight back "I'm sorry old man, I've got lead in my pencil and I want to save it for better company than you old cunts."

Laughter ensues and in minutes we've moved back to talking bollocks and arguing about different generations of sporting ability. After about an hour I see Adam make his way in. It quickly becomes clear that he's been sent to find me. He takes one look at my soft drink before going to the bar and ordering another for me before getting the same for himself. He looks at me sheepishly before opening the conversation "Sorry mate, Mandy, Penny and Beth were worried that Sarah had left you too much time on your own and you were going to do something silly, I've been sent to keep you on an even keel until you head off."

I chuckle at how devoted he is to Mandy, before responding, "Meddling bitches, you know this would be so much easier if they just left me alone."

He chuckles back, "Don't I know it mate, I've had to deal with them for 3 years now as a boyfriend while you get to be the best friend," his face turns serious for a second before he continues "Mate you know we all love you and want to be happy. Sarah deserves it too it hasn't been easy for her. I'm not going to tell you her story because that's her job but keep an open mind. Also"

Just before I can respond, Bob who's been listening in decides to interrupt, "You know lads this is what gives me hope for your generation, the whole point of the pub and being regulars is having mates who look out for you especially when you aren't minded to listen. Smithy Boy, you listen to young Adam, you have a real mate there."

I take a sip of my soft drink while I consider the old boy's words and suddenly wonder if I've been denying myself by keeping my friends at arm's length. I've never told them half of what I'm considering telling Sarah over dinner but at the same time they've never let me down. Maybe it's time to open up a little. While I play with this thought, Adam nudges me and gives me a time warning, "You've got 2 hours mate, if you're late it's my bollocks as well as yours."

Laughing at his outburst I give him the first hug we've ever shared and drag him back to the bar, "Come on bud, let's have a real drink, don't worry it's only one and I'll go. You can look your boss in the eye and tell her honestly I only had one drink," I tell him.

After a careful look, he agrees. By the time Adam and I finish our drink and I get home I've got about 80 minutes. Plenty of time as I've already picked out my chinos, blazer and shirt. In fact, I ironed them on Thursday. After a 20-minute shower followed by giving my face a full shave, I get dressed. By the time I'm done I've still got 30 minutes left, I decide to head to the restaurant, preferring to get there early over bouncing around the house and running scenarios through my head.

After checking in with the host I take the offered seat at the bar and wait for my date. I order a gin and tonic knowing it's something I'll drink slowly. About 15 minutes later I hear a come over the bar opening as the door opens and curious I look towards the entrance. There waiting for me is my date being helped out of her coat by the host, she's stunning. She's wearing a form-fitting midnight blue midi cocktail dress cut low enough to give you more than a hint of her cleavage. Her hair has been pulled into a tight bun, but 2 locks have been left free to frame her face. As I get out of my seat at the bar to go and meet her, she catches my gaze and holds it bringing me to a standstill, this is her moment and I am to wait for her not collect her. The host asks her question and she quietly nods at me, without ever breaking eye contact with me. As she gets to me I lean down to kiss her cheek just below her ear, before whispering "You are absolutely gorgeous." She doesn't even acknowledge the compliment as she holds out her hand for me to help her into the seat I have just vacated.

Before I can settle myself into the seat next to her the bartender has hurried over to assist my beautiful companion, as he asks her what she wanted to drink she looks over pointedly at me as if she expects me to know. Realising this is some sort of test I order for both of us, "2 gin and tonics please", I respond before looking back to my date.

She nods at me appreciatively before examining my appearance before leaning over, "You clean up very well," she says with approval before stroking my face "I liked the stubble. You should've kept it."

I lean back unsure if I've been complimented or admonished. Thankfully our drinks arrive before I can think of a response and I raise my glass in toast. She matches my glass in toast before we delve into meaningless conversation waiting for our table to be assigned. About 10 minutes later the host collects us from the bar and leads us to our table, ordinarily, I would try to take her chair out for her but this place is just fancy enough that particular job belongs to the host. I wait for her to be seated before moving into my seat, as the host leaves us with 2 menus and deliberately leaves the wine list with me. I already know what I plan to order both in terms of food and wine, but Sarah has owned the moment since she walked in I hope she'll let me regain the momentum, it was supposed to be my night after all.

Waiting for our server we exchange polite chit-chat over the possibilities the menu offers. Eventually, she gives me the out I've been hoping for. "Mike this menu is too big for me to decide I'm sure you have a plan for the night."

Looking at her carefully, not wanting to overstep, I make my suggestion, "I was thinking we could share the deluxe menu for 2 because that comes with the crispy duck and pancakes, and for wine, I had hoped we could share a bottle or 2 of the house red."

Her eyebrows slightly rise at my suggestion, "The house red? I was convinced you would try and impress me with some expensive bottle no one orders," she responds with the now familiar humour in her tone.

I take a deep breath before responding, "My uncle has taught me that unless you are ordering by the glass, always order the house wine. The house wine is specifically chosen to match as many dishes on the menu as possible whereas the more expensive wines are for posers and the 1% who actually know what they doing so they'll order small glasses to match the course," I'm not a poser and the most I know about wine is which styles I enjoy and which I don't.

Sarah looks at me intently for a moment before laughing and remarking "In the short time I've known you, that is the most you response I've heard," She pauses momentarily before continuing "Now you've brought them up tell me about your family."

My immediate thought is 'shit she's trapped me' but as I ponder the moment I realise that this is the whole point of the evening. I can either close myself off or share myself so fighting every instinct I have I decide to answer her question. However just before I could answer our server returns with our bottle of wine and some prawn crackers to start us off. Taking the reprieve as a gift, I try to turn the conversation, I ask "What do you want to know?".

She doesn't even blink, "Everything. It has to be family-related, no one is as guarded as you without some sort of family involvement."

At that answer my immediate thought is 'Fuck, I'm not coming out of this unscathed', I catch her gaze and tell her "Are you sure you want everything tonight once you know it all there's no going back?"

She gives me the cheekiest grin I've ever seen before answering, "I can take it, I'll bet your sex life on it".

I look at her deeply before deciding to give in. I look at her carefully, before starting, "There's no way I'll get through everything, but I'll give you the highlights as best I can. Do you remember the morning when you told me about your 'preferences' and asked me not to interrupt? I ask you for the same now. I'll stop for the waiter to serve us but beyond that let me get to the end. Agreed?"

Without hesitation, she nods at me before sitting back and waiting for me to continue.

I try and arrange my thoughts but quickly realise the best way to get through this is a verbal dump, I take a deep breath before starting, "So you know how I grew up in Botswana right, well the reason that happened is before I was born my father was assigned to a department in the foreign office that assigned young graduates to help poorer Commonwealth nations. I guess it was a way for the British government to say they hadn't completely abandoned the former Colonies. Luckily for me, I suppose, Dad was assigned Botswana where he met my Mum. They fell in love and got married just under 2 years later before Dad's contract ended. They moved back to England for long enough that I was born. Before long Dad was assigned Lesotho and after that the Turks and Caicos Islands. You see the scar on my left eye I got that in the Islands, and if I'm honest that's where their marriage started to fall apart. Just after my 4^th birthday, my parents had a big fight, Dad wanted to continue his career in the foreign office and Mum put her foot down saying it was impossible to raise a family moving every 2 years. During this argument, they lost track of me and I was playing basketball in the kitchen, unsupervised I decided to see if I could the light covering, it turns out I could and I got 5 stitches to show for it. Anyway not long after that Dad's former boss in Botswana was put in charge of a new department focussing on economic development and based on the lack of local talent he reached out to Dad to see if he was interested. I guess Dad took Mum's complaints to heart because he accepted the job. Moving to Botswana broke my family." I pause slightly before continuing knowing now I've started I can't stop.

"Suddenly Mum is no longer part of a community of expat/foreigner wives, we're in her home country and she has all of these family and friendship bonds to rebuild after several years away. Slowly she starts showing less interest in the family she's built with Dad and starts spending more and more time with these people and less time at home. I can't tell when exactly things changed, but at some point, she started cheating on Dad I don't know how long it lasted before Dad got fed up but eventually he returned the favour. By the time I was 10, my parents were so blatant about their affairs that if they weren't home, I knew exactly where they were." At this, Sarah reaches for my hand but I pull back I'm on a roll, and I barely notice that our first course has arrived, "Honestly I hated Dad's affair more because his affair partner was someone Mum once considered a friend instead of the anonymous arsehole Mum chose. Honestly, they should have divorced then, but they kept the charade of their marriage alive for another year and a half, and not knowing any better I followed their lead. I became that kid at school whose parents never showed up for anything. Sports, School plays nothing. And when you're an expat kid where most families' social network is based on meeting other parents in the same situation you get isolated quickly. I had a few friends, but I threw them away when I realised there was a network of Mums who knew my true situation and had a timetable of weekends of when they could take me. Even at 10, I couldn't accept friends who in my head were only there out of pity" I pause to look at Sarah and she's openly crying but she does not attempt to stop my rant. Our food is quickly forgotten for the moment, So I continued, "I don't know what changed but I guess around my 11^th birthday Dad decided he liked Botswana or his mistress enough to stay permanently that he divorced Mum. Dad was never careful with his papers, maybe he wanted me to know who Mum was, maybe he just didn't care but there was a day I found the divorce papers. Dad in his defence refused to give up custody, Mum never fought for it. She was always happy to let me go, the argument was what her maintenance would be in exchange for me. This isn't a guess, I read it in black and white. For about a year after the divorce, Dad attempted to rebuild some semblance of a relationship with me, but that died quickly when he started trying to force his affair partner into our lives. I had no interest in her because I still remembered her as Mum's friend and given how shit my parents falling apart had been I had no interest in her.

Dad in his infinite wisdom tried to keep us separate, he made it clear he wasn't prepared to choose between us but he would respect the boundary. The reality of it was very different, he continually chose her side over mine. In Botswana, my birthday is the day before a public holiday so I always got a long weekend out of it. He left me at home alone on my 14^th Birthday to take her away for a long weekend where he proposed. Now engaged, she made it a point to involve herself in my business and when I fought back, Dad just said we're going to be a family now and to be more accommodating. So for nearly a year, I have to deal with this family being forced upon me and my mother abandoning me. Just before I turned 15 Mum was killed in a car accident." I pause at this, Sarah's crying has stopped and she's trying to distract herself with the food at the table making plates up for both of us.

I want to stop but the dam is now open and I can't help myself, so I continue, "So there I am at 15 Mum has just died and Dad is preparing to get married to a woman I hate 3 months later. Before Mum died, Marie- Dad's fiancé and later wife would pout when I didn't let her mother me but she wasn't oppressing with it. Not long after the funeral, she just assumed she was my mother now and I went to great pains to make sure she knew she would never be my Mum. Explosive arguments raged throughout the house, and one day Marie went to slap me, being bigger than her I caught her arm and told her she would never touch me. Dad intervened there and yelled at me for using my strength against a woman, I yelled back that it was self-defence and I will never let his wife touch me, he said it didn't matter so I told him to get fucked and his anger boiled over to the point he threw a punch at me and split my lip. It was the first and last time he had ever raised a hand to me and it changed our relationship forever.

The next morning when he tried to apologise, I told him he had 2 weeks and then I wouldn't be his problem anymore because when I got to school I was going to email my Grandma (his Mum) to tell her how bad it had gotten and beg her to take me in. That day was the first time I saw my Dad cry. He broke down and begged me not to, I found out that no one in the family knew the truth about his new wife and how they met. He pleads with me not to tell them about how bad it is because he can't lie to his Mum, and she will abandon him for me and his brother will follow her. My Dad was begging me for his family, and when I pointed out he'd abandoned me for his new wife, he broke down again. He was pathetic enough that I let him have his warped idea of family, I would be gone in just over 2 years regardless. At that point, I made it clear he was just my provider and nothing more. Strangely enough, after that, he tried to make sure we spent more time together, but it was more like friends who later became drinking buddies."

Quietly Sarah asks me "Why do you go back?"

"Because he's my Dad and I've already lost Mum and I'm not ready to lose him. A Dad who is a friend more than a Dad is still better than no Dad at all," I respond simply.

With barely a whisper to her voice now laced with fear Sarah quietly asks, "Is there any more?"

"Well, you know about Maggie my adopted sister? I have another sister, well half-sister Tami my Mum's daughter from before my Dad met her she's about 7 years older than me. She was the golden child, in Dad's world, it goes Maggie, Tami, and me. Funnily enough, both sides of the family prefer Tami over me for opposite reasons, Dad prefers Tami because she never got to know her real Dad and he never wants her to feel unwanted. If anyone ever tells him he's only her step Dad prepare for a fight. Mum's family prefer her because they're convinced my Dad won't love her properly. After all, she isn't his. I get to live in second place fighting against 2 sides of the same coin. The sad thing is I love her deeply, she lives in Cape Town now, I tried to visit her once and it broke me. She is the second coming of my mother and is happy to take all the entitlement Dad and extended family allow her. She is the best I've ever seen at crying wolf, but even when Dad occasionally stands his ground and doesn't immediately give in to her, Mum's family will accuse him of preferring his real white-presenting child until he just gives in. The fact I'm younger than her means my voice is barely heard".