When Water Burns

by Lani Wendt Young

  I slid my hands up to loop them about his neck and teased him, “Well, of course I’m hot. I am a fire goddess.”

  A quick look of annoyance flitted across his face before being replaced with a half-smile. “Don’t remind me. What am I going to do with you, Miss Folger?”

  Everything please. I stood on tip-toe to nibble at his lower lip, kiss the stubbled line of his jaw, and breathe against his ear. “Whatever you want, Mr. Tahi.”

  He pulled his head back out of my reach. “Leila, stop it. You’re not making this easy for me. A little help here please?”

  I looked up at his expression. It was serious. “Sorry. I’ll stop now. Is hugging okay?”

  In answer, he pulled me to him, enfolding me in a suffocating bear hug. “Yeah, hugging is definitely okay. But that’s it.”

  Was that always going to be it? When would Daniel be willing to do more with me? I had to open my big mouth and ask him. Of course. Gently I disengaged from his arms. “When will you ever be okay with us doing … you know … more?”

  He raised an eyebrow at me and gave me that look. The one that said, Leila, are you nuts? I squirmed uncomfortably but forged ahead with my line of questioning. “I mean, we’ve known each other for nearly a year now and I love you. I love everything that we do together and I was just wondering what the Daniel Tahi policy was on us doing more together?”

  The dark expression on his face was unreadable. “We’ve had this discussion before, Leila. You know what happened with my parents, what my father did, and how it affected my mother. I’m not that guy. I won’t be that guy. My mother killed herself because of what he did. ”

  There was anger in him. I could feel it. But it was directed at that faceless man who had fathered a son so long ago. “I know you’re not like him.” I hesitated, unsure how to proceed. Be careful, Leila. “Is it possible that maybe there’s more to your parent’s story than we know? Maybe your father wasn’t as bad as you think he is?”

  He raised an eyebrow at me in disbelief. “I’m going to be twenty years old in June. Not once has my father tried to contact me or see me. Does that seem like the behavior of a man who gives a damn about his kid? I don’t think so. He never really loved my mother and he sure as hell didn’t care about her son either.”

  His bitterness was cutting. A mental groan. A minute ago we were hot and heavy and now we were knee-deep in dysfunctional family history – how did we get here? Frantically I tried to re-route us back to my original destination. Me and Daniel. And sex.

  “Okay. I understand why you would have umm … reservations about certain things, but it wouldn’t have to be the same as what happened with your mom. You know, there’s things we can do, precautions we can take if we, you know, go there.”

  He gave me a quizzical look that had the hint of a smile. “No, I don’t know. Go where?”

  Dammit, he wasn’t going to make this easy for me. Fine. I had been through three years of Health and Sex Education at Cathedral Girls School and I could do this. Heck, if I could talk to a volcano, then I could talk to my boyfriend about anything and everything, right? I took a deep breath, “I mean, if we decide we’re going to have sex, then of course we will make sure to use protection.”

  “Leila!” Horrified amusement are the only words I could use to describe his reaction. He was staring at me like I was proposing to work as a stripper in my spare time. “Are you really standing here talking to me about sex and birth control?”

  My face burned. “Yeah, why? What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.” He shook his head, trying and failing to stop the huge grin on his face. “You really are an American girl, aren’t you?”

  “What? Where did that come from? What’s that supposed to mean?” I frowned, feeling the beginning of steam building in my chest.

  He held his hands up in mock defense. “Nothing. Just saying. I forget that you’re not the average Samoan girl.”

  “Okay, now I’m getting annoyed. I don’t appreciate the personal attacks on my real Samoan-ness, thank you very much. I thought we were done with that a long time ago.” I pulled away out of his embrace and glared at him.

  “Hey, no wait up. I didn’t mean it like that. I’m sorry, it came out wrong.” He gently pulled me back into his arms and raised my face to his with a wry smile. “Let me start again, please?”

  I wanted to crawl under a rock and die. My first time talking to a boy about sex and it was excruciating. I shrugged, moving my face away from his gaze, choosing instead to stare at his chest. “I don’t think I want to have this conversation anymore.”

  His voice was soft. “Don’t be mad. What I meant to say was that you’re the first person to ever talk to me straight up about sex. And birth control. And it caught me off guard.”

  “You must have had the boring sex lessons in Health Education.”

  “No.”

  “Well, your parents – I mean your grandmother – must have gone over the basics with you.”

  “No. She just always tells me remember to be a good boy, Daniel.”

  “Your friends. Your guy friends like Maleko and them, you talk about it all the time.”

  A raised eyebrow. “We do?” He shook his head. “No, guys joke about it all the time. There’s a difference. And some even boast about it. But actual straight talking about sex and contraceptives? No.”

  “But couples like, let me think … like Maleko and Mele, they must have talked about it when they were dating.”

  He laughed outright. “Definitely not. Leila, that’s what I’m trying to tell you. Teenagers in Samoa don’t ever have this kind of conversation. I doubt even many adults have this conversation. And people don’t date in this country. Haven’t you noticed?”

  “Now I’m confused. If people don’t date and don’t talk properly about sex then what the heck do they do when they’re attracted to each other?”

  “They try very hard to keep it hidden. They sneak around in dark places.” He faked a leery wink at me. “Like our midnight pool. Or they always go out in groups with friends. And they never, ever talk about sex before they have it. Sex is a taboo subject here in Samoa. I don’t know anyone whose parents have discussed it with them. Or contraceptives for that matter.”

  It was my turn to be horrified. “That’s ridiculous. I don’t get it. Back in America we get Sex and Health Education in Middle School and my dad talked to me about it several times.”

  “Yeah? That’s so foreign to me.” He shook his head. “What did he say?”

  “He was embarrassed, but he said that when I was little girl, he had reconciled himself to the fact that he would have to be both mom and dad to me, for always – and that meant giving me ‘the sex talk.’ Better from me than from your Grandmother Folger! he would say.” I smiled at the memory. “I think he had been practicing what to say for a few years in advance, he was so freaked out that he would get it wrong! He told me he hoped I wouldn’t have a sexual relationship with anyone until I was twenty-five but he doubted I would wait that long. He got me all these safe sex pamphlets. Then he took me to a pharmacy and made me go in by myself and buy a box of condoms. And a pregnancy test.” I grimaced. “I was mortified. Which was exactly his point. He said that anybody who thought they were old enough to have sex should be old enough to accept the responsibility for those actions.” Daniel stared at me with shock written all over his face and I blushed my invisible brown girl blush. “Dad would make me babysit our neighbor’s kids a lot. Then when I complained about how rotten they were, he would smile and say, you wouldn’t want to be dealing with THAT all day, now would you? At least not until you’re twenty-five. A moment of lust is all it takes … sex without a condom is just stupid. I want grandchildren, but not for a while yet, do you hear me?

  I came to a halt as the memories crowded me, choked me.

  “Hey, are you okay?” Daniel’s voice was tender. He raised my face to his and sunlight caught on the runaway tear on my cheek. He bent to kiss it away and his lips we
re hot on my skin. He looked into my eyes, and it seemed as if nothing could ever break our gaze. “You’re very blessed to have had a father like him.”

  I nodded. “Yes, I am. He was pretty cool as dads go.”

  He faked a frown. “Now back to this fascinating subject. I have a very important question for you. Did you ever umm …” He hesitated. “Did you ever use that box of supplies?”

  “No.” The idea was so far-fetched that it was laughable. “Of course not. My Dad had a very inflated opinion of my feminine charms. I never had a boyfriend and never got into any situations where a condom was required.”

  He gave me that quizzical grin again. “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah. Why?”

  “Because you’re beautiful. You’re from America. And we all know what beautiful girls from America are doing every weekend.”

  “No. What are they doing?” Now was not the time to argue that I wasn’t beautiful. He was going to realize his mistake one day, why ruin his illusions now?

  “They’re fighting off attention from all the hot guys that are after them. You know, trying to decide which one they want to get with.”

  “Yeah right. Hollywood has a lot to answer for. Not every teenager in America is running around having sex with everybody else you know.”

  “But I distinctly remember talking to a new girl called Leila, asking her about guys and stuff and she said, Not lately. Leading me to conclude that she’d had tons of boyfriends in the past.”

  Oh damn. I forgot about that. “I never said I’d dated anybody before. It’s not my fault if you jumped to that conclusion.”

  “Whatever, Leila!” He was laughing now. “You deliberately misled me. You knew I would make that assumption. What else was I supposed to think?”

  “Okay, okay fine. So I kinda misrepresented the truth a little. I didn’t want you to know that I’d never had a boyfriend before. So what?” I was sulky.

  “So nothing.” He had the hugest grin as he picked me up and swung me around.

  “Hey!” The unexpected spin had me breathless and laughing. “What was that for?”

  “I’m just happy, that’s all.” He hugged me to him again, a light kiss on the tip of my nose.

  “Why?” Suspicious now.

  “Because you’re mine. And I love you.”

  I peered up at him. “Is that it?”

  He looked embarrassed. “No. There’s more.”

  “What?” I backed him up until he was trapped against the side of the truck, pressing into him so he couldn’t move. “I’m not letting you go until you tell me.”

  “Okay.” He took a deep breath like he was psyching himself up for something awful. “I was worried that you wanted to do more stuff with me because you were used to doing it with your ex-boyfriends. Which would make me the most boring boyfriend you ever had.” He ran his fingers through his hair in that uneasy gesture I knew so well. “I hated wondering about all the guys you were probably comparing me with. Kinda feeling the pressure you know?”

  No, I didn’t know. I gaped at his confession. Was this boy for real? Had he not looked at me and him in the mirror lately? I wanted to laugh out loud at how ridiculous his statement sounded, but one look at his face and instead I thought fast. Quick, Leila. What to say? I stared in his eyes, trying not to lose myself in their jade depths, trying to let him see and feel the truth in my words. My heart. My soul. “Daniel, with my heart, with my fire – I’m telling you – there has never been anyone else. There is only you. There will only ever be you.”

  The fervor of my emotions summoned a single arterial current of fire that lit up the markings of my malu with a fiery red-gold glow. Without breaking our locked gaze, Daniel took my hands in his and spoke with calm surety. “Same. There’s never been anyone else. There is only you. And there will only ever be you.”

  The afternoon breeze ruffled through vibrant bougainvillea and ginger flowers in the haven of color that was Matile’s garden. In that moment, maybe it wasn’t so impossible to believe that Jason could know he wanted to spend the rest of his life with Lesina. Because I knew with a fiery certainty that was how I felt about Daniel. He made me want to believe in forever.

  It was time for Daniel to go back to work. To say goodbye. But before I let him go, I had to ask. One more time. “So just checking. Does this mean, you and me and umm … more, is not going to happen? Not ever?”

  He shook his head at me with that lazy, slow grin. “It means, not now.”

  If that answer was supposed to dispel the heat that raged a war within me whenever I was with Daniel – then it failed miserably. Because there was so much delicious promise and potential in those four words that I wanted to turn the whole garden into a molten lava field.

  Not now…

  SEVEN

  The search for an apartment proved tougher than I thought. Samoa did not have an abundance of apartments for young singles. We were going to have to rent a house. But realtors were not excited about leasing a property to two young adults.

  “I don’t get it. Why is it so hard to find a decent place for us to rent?” I exclaimed in frustration as Simone and I were turned away from yet another property office. We traipsed across Saleufi Street to another real estate agent.

  He shrugged. “They’re not used to people our age wanting to rent a house. Young people don’t leave home and go live on their own in this country. Not until they get married. And even then, most couples live with their parents for ages.”

  “What happens when they start having children?”

  “Even then. Families just share. Make space for each other. And it’s the responsibility of children to take care of their elders, so it makes sense for them to keep living with their parents, look after them, contribute financially to the rest of the family. That’s how it’s done here. The only reason my parents are okay with me moving in to live with you is because I’m spoilt rotten. I’ve got four older brothers who are all living at home with their wives and kids and paying for all the bills. I told Mum I need the privacy so I can dedicate myself to my studies this year and make sure I work hard enough to get a scholarship.” He adopted a studious expression. “I do hope you’re not going to be a distracting influence on me this year. I have to focus. Our house will be a temple of learning. No parties. No alcohol. No boys. Nothing.” He hesitated. “Maybe we can make an exception for some boys. Just the ones who will help us with our studies. Dalashious, desirable boys who like to study very, very hard. Very hard boys.” A shriek of laughter. Which did not endear us to the property agent who gave us a thin-lipped glare.

  I shushed him, struggling not to laugh. “We’re never going to get a house if you don’t keep quiet. And then you’ll be stuck at home, sharing a room with your six nieces and nephews forever!”

  The threat worked and he was the picture of decorum as the agent took us to view several houses not far from the university. Just when I thought we would never find a suitable property, there it was. A three bedroom, two bathroom house nestled in a tiny but well tended garden. It came furnished with all the basics, and the rent came in well under Uncle Thomas’ accommodation allowance. I explained to Simone. “We can use the other bedroom as a study. You know, because this is our temple of learning devoted to the pursuit of academic wisdom?”

  To the agent. “We’ll take it.” And before he could give us the same disapproving looks that we had been getting all day from agents all over Apia, I sweetened the deal. “I can give you six months’ rent in advance.”

  Simone gasped alarmingly at the amount on the check but I reminded him. “I take care of the rent. You buy our food, remember?” Simone was doing me a huge favor by moving in with me because I knew that both my American relatives and my Samoan guardians would not have been happy with my living alone. We signed the paperwork, accepted the keys, and ­– just like that – Simone and I were officially setting up house. I took instagram photos for Annette and Thomas so they could rest assured I was safe, secure, and hous
ed. We celebrated over Diet Coke and burgers from the McDonald’s drive-through.

  My buzz didn’t last for very long though. Daniel was not happy about my new home. He came over that night after work to help us move in and there was nothing but disapproval written all over him. He ignored my attempts to give him a tour of our little house, instead stomping away through the garden to inspect the fence at the back of the property.

  There was a tight frown on his face as I came up to stand beside him. “Daniel? What is it? What’s wrong?” I peered at the fence he was studying in the dim evening light, trying to see what was making him so angry.

  He pointed. “That.”

  “Yes. That’s a fence. What about it?”

  “As fences go, it’s pathetic. See how low it is? It barely comes up to my shoulder and it needs barbed wire along the top of it.”

  I was baffled. “Why?”

  “Because anybody could easily climb over it, that’s why. That fence is not going to keep anybody out.”

  Before I could respond, he turned away to follow the fence line until he came to a halt at the open steel gates to the driveway. I ran after him and watched as he fiddled with the locking mechanism on the gates, frowning and cursing under his breath.

  “What is it?”

  “This latch is faulty. You’re not going to be able to lock this gate. Didn’t you check that before you moved in here?”

  Without waiting for an answer, he went back to his truck, getting in with a slam of the door. “I’ll be right back.” No smile. No wave. Nothing. I stood and watched him drive away, bewildered. Simone joined me in the driveway.

  “What’s wrong with him?”

  “I don’t know. He said the gate lock is busted. I don’t think he likes this house.” I turned to consider our new home thoughtfully. “I don’t know why. It’s beautiful.”

  “Hmm … or maybe it’s not about a busted lock.” Simone regarded me with thoughtful eyes. “Did you discuss moving out of your aunt’s place with Daniel? Get his thoughts on it? See if he approved?”