Drawn to you

“Do you want me to help you move?" Gerard asks, as he drops me off at home after breakfast.
“I do. But it’s all planned. My parents are helping, and I think it’s important that it’s just me and them. This is kind of a big deal for them – and for me of course. I just… do you understand?” I ask, stopping because I don’t feel as though I’m making any sense.
“Of course I do. You go. Move into your new place and call me when you’re done,” he says, taking my hand and kissing my knuckles. “And can you actually leave your phone on this time?”
“Absolutely.”
When I get inside, my parents are both dressed and ready, sitting together on the couch watching TV. As I enter the room, they turn their heads toward me, and I can tell they’re expecting an explanation.
“Morning,” I say, as cheery as I can, pretending like I didn’t just spend the night at some guy’s house.
“Shhhh,” my mother hisses at my father. “he’s eighteen.” Her voice is low, but I hear her clearly as she admonishes my grumbling father. “Gerard again?” she asks me, setting a smile upon her face.
“Yeah,” I nod, giving her a small smile. I can tell she wants to ask me a lot of questions, but the stormy look on my dad’s face means that they’ll have to wait until we get a chance to be alone.
“Let’s get this done,” my father proclaims, as he gets up from the couch with a slight grunt that shows his age. Forever the gentleman, he holds his hand out to help my mother up. “We’ll start with the boxes by the door. Hopefully it will all fit in one run. If not, I’ll drop you and your mother off, and then come back for the rest.”
“Sounds like a plan,” I smile, trying to keep my excitement level even. I don’t think it’s appropriate for me to be keening about leaving them. Even though I’m fighting the urge to squeal and jump up and down yelling ‘moving day! Piling into the Barina, we let dad do the driving to my new accommodations. The trip is no more than ten minutes, but it feels like it takes forever. I’m travelling toward my future, toward my freedom, and I can’t wait.
I love my parents, I really do, and I will visit them as much as I can. But I can’t breathe in that house. I need my space.
As we pull up in front of the townhouse, my heart beats excitedly in my chest as I jump out of the car and jog up to the front door, calling to my parents that I’ll open the door to clear the path for the boxes.
“Happy moving day!” Anthony singsongs, as he opens the door for me. “Where’s your stuff?” He looks at my empty hands and frowns, a flash of worry crossing his features.
“It’s in the car,” I smile, thumbing over my shoulder. “I was just going to open the door so we can bring it in.
“Great. Let me help you,” he says, stepping outside and calling out to Elliott that I’m here.
I don’t have a huge amount of boxes, but the Barina is tiny, so it didn’t fit everything inside. Working together, we take all of my stuff upstairs and start unpacking while my dad returns home to get the last of my things.
“Can I get you something to drink Mrs Iero?” Anthony asks my mum. “Tea? Coffee?”
“That would be lovely. Tea please, white with no sugar,” my mother returns, opening up a box and stacking items on my bed.
“Great, I’ll just go and put the kettle on. Do you want something Frank?”
“No thanks, I’m all good.” As she exits the room, Elliott finally decides to make a very bleary eyed appearance in the doorway to say hi, before mumbling something about coffee and following after Anthony .
“Those two seem like polar opposites,” my mother muses.
“They’re nice though.” I move to the wardrobe with my hanging clothes over my arm and begin positioning them in a tidy row.
“So… since we’re alone. Do you want to tell me what’s going on with Gerard?”
“I have no idea what’s going on with Gerard. I barely even know him. I just know that I’m drawn to him,” I explain, glancing at her over my shoulder as I continue to work on packing away my things.
“Do you think it’s wise to be spending the night with him so soon?” she asks, sliding clothes into my drawers
“I didn’t have sex with him mum. We just slept, that’s all.”
“You’re an adult now honey. I can’t tell you what to do. I just want you to be careful. Don’t rush anything and it's good because you can't get pregnant cause you boy.”
“I’ll be careful,” I assure her, moving on to a box full of personal items. “Mum? Why is dad so funny about him? He was happy when he thought we were training. Why does it bother him if I date Gerard?”
She pulls a set of sheets out of a box and shakes it out, ready to make the bed she’s just finished clearing. I stand across from her, taking a hold of the opposite corner to help.
“Oh, I think your dad would be funny about any guy or girl, and I guess he didn’t think Gerard would make a move on you.”
“Why? Because he’s one of his students?"
“No, because he was friends with Craig. You probably wouldn’t remember him. He was all pimply and had braces on this teeth back then – he wasn’t the good looking man he is now, that’s for sure,” she chuckles, smoothing her hand over the bed before grabbing the top sheet. “They were in the same training group, and got along really well - if you have a look there’s a few photos of them together at the dojo. Gerard was there that night too. The night Craig fell in the river,” she informs me, not making any eye contact as she continues making the bed. “Not that it was his fault, he was just one of the many kids that were there... I guess he feels a little responsible – or guilty – for not keeping realising Craig had gone missing… I don’t know. We don’t blame him of course. You dad actually has a bit of a soft spot for him. The poor kid hasn’t had the easiest life, he’s been through a lot, so your dad’s worried that his feelings toward you are a little misguided.”
“What do you think?” I ask, suddenly feeling as thought Gerard might only want me out of guilt, or misguided loyalty.
“What do I know really? You’re looking at a woman who married a man, who seems very much like Gerard. Moody, demanding, hard to get along with. But together, we work. I think you just have to go with your gut in these situations. Aikido helps to keep them centred. So does a lot of love and understanding.”
As I process this information,Anthony returns. “Tea’s ready,” he informs us. “And it sounds like Mr Iero has just returned with the last of the stuff.”
While mum follows Anthony into the kitchen, I head outside to help my dad unpack the car. “Is this everything?” I ask.
“Yep,” he replies, leaning into the car to pull out my lamp. “It’s amazing how much you can fit in when you don’t have two women in the car.”
"Oi dad last time I checked I was a boy"I laughed grabbing the box off him
"yeah but you act like a women franklin"he laughs too
It takes a couple of trips back and forth from the car to my bedroom to get all of my things. All the while, I’m trying to think of a way to talk to my dad about Gerard. In the end, I just come out with it.
“I didn’t realise Gerard was friends with Craig.”
“Um… yeah, I teamed them up as sparring partners. Don’t you remember him? They used to come first and second at a lot of the tournaments.”
“I laugh. “I never paid attention to what everyone came. I only knew what Craig came. I was too busy stuffing around with my friends.”
“Yeah, I remember. You were always trying to get your mum to give you change for the vending machines. You were good though, you could have been great.”
“I just liked doing the same thing my dad and brother were doing.”
Pressing his lips together, he lets a burst of air out his nose as he plugs the lamp into the wall and places it on the square table next to my bed, checking that it’s still working by turning it on then off.
“So… is there anything going on between you and him?” he asks, as he stands up straight. He’s not really looking at me, so I can tell he finds this all a little awkward.
“Not yet,” I tell him. “We’re just getting to know each other.” Nodding, he places his hands in his pockets and looks around the room. “Just… watch yourself with him ok? He’s um… a complicated kid.”
“What does that mean? Should I stay away from him?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. What are you saying to him?” my mother asks in a clipped tone, as she re-enters the room.
“I’m saying to be careful,” he exasperates. “he’s my son. I want him to be careful.”
“I’ll be careful,” I promise. “Don’t worry. I’ll be fine.”

Notes