CLIO
The hallway incident had shaken up Clio quite a bit. She avoided me for most of the day, and by the time I got to see her again, Lila was already home.
What terrified me was the fact that the one time in that evening that our eyes briefly met, I could see her pulling away. I was losing her, and the realization of that was sending me into a panic. We had to get this straightened out. There were three adults in this situation, and there was no reason that this couldn’t be hashed out in a mature manner…except that I knew deep down that wasn’t the case. This wasn’t one of my clients trying to position themselves into more favorable terms-there was a family, friendship, and love on the line.
First things first, I had to make sure Clio and I were on the same page. Then, once that was secure, we could sit down with Lila and explain how we felt about one another. I knew she’d be upset, but I also knew her to be a very pragmatic young woman and that sooner or later she would see that her dad and her best friend were happy together.
Clio didn’t come to my room that night. I paced the floor for a couple of hours, trying desperately to figure out what the hell I could do to make this less painful-none of my solutions were seamless. The fact of the matter was there was just no way this wasn’t going to be a little sloppy, but I finally reached the conclusion that this was just life: it’s messy, and when something was really important, it can get particularly messy.
At a little past one in the morning, I couldn’t take it anymore. I walked silently to Clio’s room, and I didn’t bother with a knock, knowing that it could wake Lila. When I opened the door, it was to discover that Clio’s bed was empty. Panic hit me like a bucket of ice water, but just as quickly, I was hit with a surge of relief when I spied Clio sitting out on her balcony.
I went to her, and when she saw me, her eyes widened in disbelief. “What are you doing here? You’re going to get caught,” she whisper-hissed.
“I can’t help it, Clio. You didn’t come to me, and we really need to talk,” I whispered back.
She looked around her furtively, then moved towards me, pushing me back into the room. “We can’t talk here, what if Lila hears us?” she whispered, gesturing towards the wall that she shared with my daughter. She was right. Lila liked to sleep with the balcony door open at night, so she still gets the sea breeze inside her room.
“Fine, then let’s go to my room,” I said quietly, starting to turn, but her hand on my arm stopped me.
“No,” she said.
“No?” I questioned, and looking down into her solemn, sad eyes, the reality of what was happening hit me like a Mack truck.
Her eyes were welling up with tears as she said quietly, “I can’t…we can’t…anymore.”
And there was the knockout. I’d been dodging psychological body shots and uppercuts throughout our whole relationship knowing that death bell for our time together would come much sooner than I would ever be prepared for. Now, Clio herself had delivered the hit that would take me out like I was nothing.
I collapsed onto the edge of her bed in a sitting position, my knees having turned to jelly. My brain churned with urgings to make her take it back. I was a lawyer, goddammit, and a damn good one, yet I couldn’t come up with a convincing argument after that blow to the heart except to say weakly, “One more day.”
“What?” she asked in a broken voice.
“Give me one more day,” I pleaded, and I could see the war in her eyes…the way she bit her lip to hold back a sob. I just wanted to hold her, but I sensed she wouldn’t allow it at that moment. So, I hung all my hopes on two little words, “Please, Clio.”
She struggled for a long moment, and I could see the tears beginning to fall freely down her cheeks before she finally uttered a quiet, “Okay.”
Clenching her fists as her side, she turned back toward the balcony. “Goodnight, Aidan,” she whispered before exiting the room and resuming her perch on the balcony.
“Goodnight, Clio,” I whispered to the empty room before taking my leave.
I would give her a day she’d never forget. I would give her a day that would make her realize that we were worth fighting for.
***
I barely slept that night since there was too much to do. By the time Lila was up for her morning run, I’d already been to the twenty-four-hour market to get all my supplies. I was in the kitchen pouring myself yet another cup of coffee when she passed by. “You’re up awful early,” she commented.
“I have a few time-sensitive things to take care of,” I said, knowing she would assume it was something to do with work.
“Hmm, and here I was thinking it had something to do with your lady friend you won’t tell me about,” she teased as she turned to go.
I called after her before I could stop myself, “Lila…” She turned towards me with a small smile on her face, waiting for me to continue talking. “I’m going to tell you all about her soon, we just have some things we have to work out first.”
She looked at me oddly but smiled anyway. “Um, okay, Dad.” She headed for the door with a wave. “I’ll see you later then,” she called behind her, and I watched as she jogged down the porch steps and set off at a sprint across the sand.
What I needed to tell her weighed heavy on my heart, and it was a war between figuring out a way to minimize the damage with my daughter and how much I needed to convince Clio that what was going on between us couldn’t be over.
***
The wait for Clio to be done with her surf lesson seemed interminable, but when she returned, I did my best to act like the night before hadn’t happened…like we weren’t ticking down our final minutes together. If I had my way, these wouldn’t be our final minutes together, but I needed a hail Mary and fast.
For her part, Clio seemed determined to pretend it was just like any other day, and I appreciated that from her. I didn’t think I could handle it if I saw the same look in her eyes as I did the night before, and I was hugely relieved to see her amused smile when she saw where I was taking her. She looked over at me. “You can’t be serious?”
I shrugged nonchalantly. “What, you don’t want a day full of fun and stuffing our faces with carnival food?” I looked at what she was seeing: the boardwalk was crammed with various vendors, and there was a Ferris wheel along with other rides and booths with a variety of gClio. It was Malibu’s annual Summer Solstice. During our outings to all of the museums, Clio had mentioned how she’d always wanted to go to a fair or carnival but had never gotten a chance to as a kid. Considering the conversation that was ahead of us, I figured something light-hearted would be in order.
She laughed. “I can’t believe this is what you chose.”
“Anything to make you smile, Clio,” I told her in all seriousness. There was a long pause as she looked at me, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that she was holding back. Shaking off the moment, I took her hand. “Shall we?”
We spent the next few hours hitting up each booth and riding all the rides. I did my best to win Clio every stuffed animal I could get my hands on, which was a little tricky considering how most of those gClio were rigged, but she did walk away with a stuffed panda bear. I even got to kiss my sweet Clio as we rode the Ferris wheel, and for the first time in a long time, I faced the dual joy and agony of potentially life-altering decisions.
On our drive back to the house, Clio was quiet, and this silence filled me with dread. I tried to push it away by filling the air with chatter-telling her about other fairs and carnivals I’d heard about and about maybe taking her there someday, trying not to be too discouraged at her non-committal responses.
Once we were at the house, I set to work preparing an early dinner just for the two of us, and for a few moments, it felt like maybe things were normal…well, as normal as they could be under the circumstances. Clio jumped in to help at first, but about halfway through getting everything together, she just stopped, looking up at me with watery eyes. Oh hell.
“Clio,” I said, putting up my hands, “before you say anything, can we please just talk about our relationship?”