Lily got up, limping slightly toward the blanket.
“I’m going to the restroom, come help me.”
“I think the scar reopened,” she whispered once we’d moved away.
“They’ve operated on it several times already, without success. I just want to rinse it.”
“Then why did you insist on playing?” I asked, my worry edged with frustration – mostly at myself. Lily noticed.
“Why? Because, as you already know, I refuse to give up on anything.” As she walked beside me, back straight, hiding her limp and her pain, I understood she truly meant to face everything head-on. But the question that haunted me was: for how long?
Suddenly the image of an hourglass, somewhere in the universe, draining away its sand, became all too real. Twenty-four months – seven hundred and thirty days – had been promised to her, and about thirty of them had already slipped away at an unbearable pace.
Chapter 14
Parents
After she washed her leg, we rejoined the group. David, who had been left alone on the blanket, tried in every way to help Lily. But she was firm. Stubborn. She refused to let him fetch a first-aid kit from his car, and even declined treatment at the makeshift First-Aid station on the beach. Only when she agreed that David would drive us back to the apartment did I feel relief. The silence in the car weighed heavily on the carefree atmosphere that had existed at the beach. David didn’t say a word either. More than that, he looked troubled. Instead of keeping his eyes on the road, he kept glancing toward Lily’s leg, but said nothing.
After showering, Lily bandaged her ankle with practiced ease, as if it were a daily routine. I felt it was better not to bother her with what seemed to her like trivialities, things that might make a mountain out of a molehill.
She told me her parents had invited us for lunch. I tried to object, explaining that we’d only been together a few days and it didn’t feel right yet. But she was set on it, and even threw my own words back at me: that even though it had only been two days, it already felt like we’d been together for years. The pointless debate dragged on until she announced that her brother was already on his way to pick us up – and what difference did it make if it was this week or next month? I was bound to meet them. She even seemed amused by my visible anxiety.
The only time I’d ever met the parents of a girlfriend was after Sara and I had been dating for several months. Usually, I preferred not to involve parents – hers or mine – in myrelationships. With Lily, though, it seemed every rule was being shattered, including that one.
“All right,” I muttered. I guess I understood that in the whirlwind that was unfolding between us, time didn’t really matter, not when it came to the little details.
She expressed her delight with a fierce hug that made me feel like the woman who had just been the injured paddle-ball player and the one who was now holding and kissing me were two entirely different people.
“For goodness sake, be careful with the ankle,” I blurted.
“It’s protected, it’s bandaged, everything’s fine,” she shot back with a look of determination that conquered me yet again. I already knew: once she set her sights on a goal, nothing could knock her off course.
She introduced her father, Samuel, as her boss, and her mother, Leah, as an engineer and “The boss’s wife.” The playful tone in her voice helped ease the tension.
“He’s a good boss!” she patted her father’s back as he stood by the little wine cabinet, pouring out 777 brandy.
“Can I offer you some?” he asked.
“Thank you,” I answered politely.
On the living room walls hung only two relatively small paintings by Lily herself. The rest were unidentified, but, judging from their style, not hers. (This was confirmed later on during a mini-guided “tour.”)
When she invited me into her room, I noticed her parents exchange a look. I asked her about it once we were inside, and she explained that this was the first time she’d ever brought a boyfriend home – and the first time she’d ever taken one into her room. Besides, she added, she just wanted to hug me and say out loud that she loved me.
“You make me laugh; do you know that?”
“I want to make you laugh a lot. I hope you don’t mind…”
“I assume you know what Lily has,” her father said to me after the meal, while Lily and her mother washed the dishes and her brother was on the phone.
“As much as the doctors on the ward know,” I replied, blushing at both the directness and the surprise.
“She doesn’t stop talking about you, and usually she doesn’t share stories about her boyfriends. Even about the wedding with Ralf – we only heard a month ago. And before we had time to digest that news, she told us it was off.”
“I hope I had nothing to do with that,” I mumbled awkwardly.
“Now I’m not so sure,” he stressed every word. “In any case, are you aware of her condition?”
