The Nearly Girl by Lisa de Nikolits

Author:Lisa de Nikolits
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Inanna Publications
Published: 2016-12-17T16:00:00+00:00

9. AMELIA AND HENRY

LATER THAT WEEK, AMELIA WENT to visit Henry in his mansion in Rosedale. She let herself into the house and found him in the living room, staring at the walls.

“Anything good happening, Dad?” she asked as he darted forward and corrected a line on a piece of paper tacked to the wall. He didn’t seem to hear her and she waited while he made his annotation.

“Amelia!” He turned to her once he was done, delighted to see her. “Come and give your dad a hug! How are you?”

She hugged him, feeling the sharp jut of his bones through the thin silk dressing gown he was wearing over a pair of brightly-coloured boxer shorts. “Dad, have you been eating?”

“Of course,” he said, jovially. “But I am on a roll here. I haven’t been sleeping much. But who needs sleep? Everyone says you need this much sleep or that much, but what do they know? I think they sleep out of boredom. I’ve got too much exciting work to do to waste my time sleeping.”

“I know what you mean,” she said. “Dad, what if I am destined to live one of those boring lives like other people? I don’t think I could stand that.”

He stared at her. “I think you need a cup of tea,” he said and he led her into the kitchen.

Amelia was no longer startled by the décor of the house but she didn’t like the ghostly emptiness. Rather than minimalistic, she thought the house felt abandoned.

“How’s the work going?” Amelia asked. “Dad, you really need a new dressing gown.”

“Oh, there is no tea,” Henry said, disappointed, rooting through bare cupboards. “Look, there is nothing here. I am sorry.”

“I know Mom put in an order for your delivery this morning,” Amelia said.

“There is soup,” Henry said. “Would you like some soup?”

“There’s always soup,” Amelia laughed. “Yeah, Dad, I’ll have some soup. Cream of broccoli.”

“Excellent choice,” Henry nodded his approval. “Tell me about you. What is happening in your life?”

“I’m afraid of being boring,” Amelia told him.

“Ah right, you said that. And that led us to tea, which led us to soup. Let us explore this topic. What constitutes boring?”

“Doing things like everyone else,” Amelia said promptly.

“But does one have a choice?” Henry asked. “If I had had a choice, I would have lived a normal life with you and your mother and been happy.”

“Even if it meant giving up your poetry?”

“Yes, even then. My life is very hard work with not a lot of fun. The only time I ever had fun was when I was with your mother.”

“So why didn’t you stay with her?”

“I had no choice. You think my life is more interesting this way, than if I had stayed with her?”

“For sure! Of course.”

“It is eccentric, and unusual, and it is who I am but it is no more or less boring than a fellow who has a family of four and a mortgage and a job at the bank that he hates.”

“You hate your job?”

Henry paused for a moment.

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