‘Wow! He must be someone special then.’
‘He’s a very good pilot,’ I replied.
‘I’m sure he is, if you’re going out with him.’
‘So you can fit him in?’
‘Of course, but your dad and I can’t meet him for the first time at the wedding. You must bring him around for dinner.’
‘Uh . . . I don’t think that . . .’
‘I insist. Dinner. This weekend. Are you busy?’
I knew it was utterly fruitless arguing with my mother when she ‘insisted’. She was one of these formidable people who always got her own way. No matter what.
‘I’ll have to check my schedule. And his.’
‘Check them now and get right back to me!’ she demanded.
‘Now?’
‘Yes, I’ll have to plan the dinner. The weekend is only four days away.’
‘I’ll check and get back to you soon,’ I agreed, even though the idea of bringing Andrew to my family home felt odd. Even though I’d been to his.
‘I’m so excited to meet this Andrew. And I know your dad will be too. Oh my God, your dad will be over the moon. Finally, someone he can talk to about, uh . . . you know, men things.’
‘Men things?’ I asked.
‘Like sport, beer and wood chopping and . . .God, I don’t know what men spend their time talking about, but I’m sure he’ll be glad for a male energy in the house, since he’s constantly surrounded by us and Chi-Chi.’
‘Dad doesn’t drink beer, and I’ve never seen him chop wood. True, he does like golf. But that is hardly a particularly manly endeavour and Chi-Chi is a male dog.’
‘There is nothing male about Chi-Chi, darling. We had him snipped as a puppy. I don’t even think he remembers having balls, so he’s basically a she.’
‘I don’t think that’s how gender works, Mom.’
‘I suppose it’s probably not, but anyway, balls aside, call this Andrew of yours now and then phone me right back.’
‘I think he’s flying now.’
‘Well, call him asap and then get back to me, okay?’
‘Okay, Mom.’
I hung up. ‘This Andrew of yours’. That expression sounded strange coming from my mother’s mouth. I’d never thought of Andrew like that, as if he was an ‘of mine’. It sounded somewhatHandmaid’s Tale, ‘Offred and Ofglen’. I wondered if Andrew was indeed an Ofpippa? Or perhaps I was an Ofandrew? Did I want to be a Ofanybody though? And now I wanted to stop hearing the word ‘of’ in my head. I quickly went through its synonyms –about,pertaining to,attributed to– just to mute the incessant ‘of’ sound. It did not work.
‘How’s my favorite ATC today? This is Flightbird Six Zero Zero.’
‘You really shouldn’t have favorites,’ I said with a smile, even though he was my favorite pilot too. ‘Go ahead, Flightbird Six Zero Zero.’
‘City Tower, we are inbound for Johannesburg Airport, flying over the golf course, dams looking a little empty, we need some rain, requesting vectors for ILS? Flightbird Six Zero Zero.’
‘Flightbird Six Zero Zero, turn left heading two seven niner.’
‘Copy. Flightbird Six Zero Zero. Turn left heading two seven niner. Have you even played golf, City Tower?’
‘Never. My dad does though.’
