hand automatically goes to my jeans, checking that I did zip up. I know Mom notices. Nan's sitting at the table, drinking a cup of tea. "Do you like her Nan?" I ask, sitting down next to her.
"She's beautiful," Nan says, "she's a lovely girl. And I can see you love her."
"I'm mad about her," I say, my eyes dart to Mom's, almost in defiance.
Nan chuckles. "That's how your Grandpa was about me. He couldn't keep his hands off me."
I laugh. My Grandpa died over five years ago, suddenly from a heart attack. He'd been pruning some bushes in the garden and collapsed, but he had been 72.
"She's only young," Mom chimes in, "only sixteen. And from Beverly." Why she says that, I don't know.
"There's no need to rush these days," Nan says, "you have plenty of time. Get to know each other. It's important that you can talk to each other."
"Good advice," my mother says, giving me a bold stare.
I get up. "Do you need a ride home Nan?" I ask.
"Thanks, but Bryan's going to take me. I want him to look at a window latch." I say goodbye and go and watch tv.
A text come through from Magdala: miss u already, your mom and nan are cool.
I text back: want u, love u.
And already my heart is yearning for her, wanting her non-stop, she's like an obsession, all I want, all I crave is to be with her all the time.
That same week, on a Tuesday when Ben and I are at basketball, Magdala drops by home thinking I'll be there. When we arrive, Magdala's in the kitchen making mango smoothies. I'm thinking What the fuck, but Magdala is showing Mom how to cube a mango and Mom has no option but to watch and learn. Michelle is copying too. It almost feels like a comedy skit.
I come up behind Magdala, put my arms around her waist. "What's going on here?"
"I forgot you had training," she says, "but I'm just showing your Mom how to make smoothies, because they can go off quite quickly." She means the mangoes.
Mom gives me a wry smile as she puts the mango into the blender. Magdala adds banana slices and milk and Michelle pushes the button. It's like a fucking production line. I can't help but laugh.
Magdala turns, "What's so funny?" she asks.
"Nothing," I say, bending to kiss her. We each have a smoothie, which even Mom admits to being delicious, but I can see she is calculating the amount of milk used and wondering if there will be enough for tomorrow's breakfast. She stresses about the smallest things.
"What did you actually come round for?" I eventually ask Magdala, wondering if she left something here. We don't usually see each other on a week night.
"Um," she laughs, "um, I don't remember." But when we go into my room, she pushes me onto the bed and says, "This is why I came around. To ride in the Ferrari bed."
Chapter 3
MAGDALA
Antonia asks me to babysit the kids on Saturday night. First of all I pout and say, "Why can't Cassian do it?" She says she has already asked him, but he has plans. Great, I think, now I'm only second choice. She says her and Dad have a dinner and awards night to go to, I don't even ask what awards night, I don't care that much. I ask if Nathan can come over. She says, "Ask your father."
I catch Dad at his work station, he's sketching on some paper, but has two screens open as well. Dad is a graphic designer and does freelance work, in television and movies, but he also does work for my Uncle Blaise's advertising agency. Plus he does voiceover work. I pretend to be interested in what he's doing but then I just jump right in and say it. "Antonia wants me to babysit on Saturday, but I sort of have plans with Nathan, so could he come and stay on Saturday night while I babysit." I say it so fast that I hope he doesn't listen properly and will just nod and say yes.
He stops drawing and says, "Did you just say you want Nathan to stay the night?" Damn, he is listening. I bite my lower lip and sheepishly nod. "I haven't even
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