Choice Assorted

Chapter 17: Lessons in absence

Dodo stood outside Portia’s room for a long time, listening. Nothing. No music. No phone calls. No tears she could hear. Just silence, thick and cold. She knocked twice.

“Portia?”

No answer.

She turned to Henry’s door. It was slightly ajar. Inside, he was on the floor cleaning up coins that had spilled from his jar.

“I’ll pay you back,” she said quietly.

He didn’t look up. “It’s not about the money. It’s about you lying. You didn’t even ask.”

“I was scared you’d say no.”

“Of course I would have said no! It’s my money.” He looked at her then, with eyes that no longer saw her as invincible. “You always say we should be honest. But you did this in secret. You talk about being responsible, but you were desperate. Like… a thief.”

Dodo’s throat ached with the urge to cry, but she nodded. “I deserve that.”

She left him to his silence, returned to the kitchen, and forced herself to finish the sandwich Portia had refused. Every bite tasted like punishment.

That afternoon, a knock came at the door. It wasn’t hesitant like Portia’s. It was brisk, commanding.

She opened it to see Ma Gloria standing with a handbag tucked high under her arm, eyes already scanning the living room like it had failed inspection.

“I was in the area,” she said, walking in without invitation. “Thought I should check on my grandchildren.”

She paused, taking in the mood.

“Where are they?”

“In their rooms,” Dodo said. “They’re not… in the best mood.”

Ma Gloria looked at her sharply. “Why?”

Dodo sighed, folding her arms. “I made a mistake.”

“That’s not news. What kind of mistake this time?”

“I… invested money. In something I shouldn’t have. It was a scam. I lost money. Henry’s money. And some I had saved for petrol. I was trying to fix things but—”

“You took the boy’s money?” Ma Gloria cut in, her voice rising. “Eh! No, Dodo, this is madness. Now I understand. The children are angry because you betrayed their trust.”

“I didn’t mean to. I was trying to—”

“You were trying to what, outsmart your problems?” Ma Gloria scoffed. “You always think you’re cleverer than life. Look at you now—sitting here like a child who dropped the pot. Shame!”

Dodo lowered her eyes.

“I was beginning to think,” Ma Gloria continued, “maybe you’re finding your way. Blogging, behaving, raising your children like a proper woman. But no. Back to foolishness. Back to shortcuts.”

Silence pulsed between them.

Ma Gloria shook her head. “This is exactly why a woman needs a man in the house. A good man wouldn’t have allowed this rubbish. You would have talked to him. He’d have warned you. Maybe even helped you. But you’re always doing things your way. You think you don’t need anyone.”

“I didn’t fall for the scam because I’m single, Ma,” Dodo said quietly. “I fell for it because I was tired. Desperate. Alone in all the ways that matter.”

“But you chose that,” Ma Gloria snapped. “You always choose ‘alone.’”

The words hung in the room, sharp and final.

For a moment, Ma Gloria’s face softened. She looked at her daughter not with anger, but with weary disappointment.

“Children remember these things,” she said. “Be careful. Today they’re quiet. Tomorrow they’re gone.”

She turned and walked toward the corridor.

“I’m going to pray with Portia,” she said. “She must not carry her mother’s foolishness in her heart.”

Dodo stayed in the kitchen, staring at the cracked tile near the fridge. She had nothing left to say.

Nothing anyone was willing to hear.

Ma Gloria came out of Portia’s room twenty minutes later, her lips tight, eyes red-rimmed.

“She’s a proud girl,” she muttered, sinking into the couch. “Too much like you. But she listened.”

Dodo didn’t speak.

Ma Gloria reached into her handbag and pulled out an envelope. She laid it on the coffee table with a tap.

“There’s R500 in there. For Portia’s trip.”

Dodo looked at it, then at her mother. “Ma…”

“I didn’t do it for you. I did it for her. I promised her she wouldn’t miss the crocodiles.”

She paused. “Even though I don’t agree with all this... crocodile business. But she needs to believe someone is thinking of her.”

Dodo nodded, throat thick.

Ma Gloria stood, dusted off her skirt. “And as for Henry…”

She sighed, already regretting what she was about to say.

“I will take him to get one pair of those overpriced shoes. Carvella or whatever you people are calling fashion these days. One pair only. The boy’s been saving. At least let him feel rewarded for that.”

Dodo blinked, stunned. “Ma, thank you.”

“Don’t thank me,” she snapped. “Raise your children properly. And next time you think of investing, invest in wisdom.”

With that, she hoisted her bag over her shoulder, smoothed her scarf, and left the house.

Dodo sat down slowly beside the envelope. She could still feel her mother’s disapproval lingering in the room like old incense—but behind it, there was something else.

Care.

Stubborn, judgmental, maddening care.

She exhaled, deeply, and whispered to the empty room:

“I’ll do better.”