part0011

I WASN’T KEEN TO GO to the football afterparty, but Ainsley twisted my arm. Dominique hadn’t been at school, something about being sick with the flu, and Ella had her family party, and Selina already had movie plans. Ainsley was so desperate for me to go that she came to pick me up.

I realized that it was a good thing; it meant I wasn’t on a “date” with Garrett Tosti. If he happened to be there, fine, I’d talk to him, but we weren’t going as a couple. I wouldn’t feel any obligation to hang out with him.

Yet, that’s precisely what happened. Ainsley, Logan, Garrett and I were together all night, at the party, at the late-night cafe for ice cream, and then at Ainsley’s house. In fact, after gaming until the early hours (the boys, not Ainsley and me), we all slept over, me in Ainsley’s room, and the boys in one of the Ambler’s many spare rooms.

We were awoken the next morning when Garrett knocked on the bedroom door. He poked his head in and Ainsley and I pulled the cover up high, even though we were dressed appropriately. Ainsley was in panda pajamas, and I had borrowed a candy-striped nightshirt.

“Hey, just wanted to say ciao. And thanks for a great night,” he said, looking remarkably fresh for someone who had probably only had three or four hours sleep. “I gotta hit the pool.”

“Okay,” Ainsley replied drowsily, “where’s Logan?”

“He’s still asleep. ”

“Hey,” I said, throwing back the covers, “can you give me a ride? Give me two secs.”

Garrett nodded. “Sure thing, but hurry.” He closed the door and I jumped up, pulling on my last night’s clothes. I borrowed a scrunchie from Ainsley and threw my hair into a ponytail, spritzed on some of her perfume, swished some mouthwash and left. I assumed Garrett must have swimming training.

Mom had a house to stage this morning, it was only a few small details, fresh flowers, fresh linen and so on, and she’d hinted that I could help her. I hadn’t committed, but if I didn’t take advantage of Garrett’s ride, likely I’d waste the morning with Ainsley. And I did want to talk to Mom more about her trip.

Garrett gabbled on about how late he and Logan had been gaming, but I hardly listened. I wasn’t that interested. I scrolled through my phone, not taking much notice of the surroundings. It was a little after six and the traffic was light.

Garrett made a left turn, going in the complete opposite to my house.

“I’m in desperate need for coffee,” he said, “you in?”

“Yeah, sure.” I nodded, as I read the latest celebrity gossip.

A few minutes later, I looked up anxiously. “Mookis?” I asked.

“Best coffee,” Garrett said, “and they have the best cupcakes. The Caped Caker bakes them.”

“The YouTube dude. He bakes these amazing cakes.”

“Never heard of him. ”

“He wears a mask and a cape. He’s hilarious.”

“Nah.” I wasn’t into baking videos, but maybe Ella knew him. She and her sisters always baked.

“He has about a million followers.”

“Still nah.” I was surprised Garrett watched that sort of thing, but then again, last night he and Logan had spent over an hour watching other gamers playing games. I didn’t get it.

I followed Garrett in, realizing that I was starving. I hadn’t eaten dinner before going out, and the ice-cream cone had been all I’d had. My stomach rumbled.

“Someone’s hungry.” Garrett laughed, as he held the door for me. Despite his mafia impersonation, he was a good guy; it was hard not to like him. He strode up to the cabinets, like he was a regular. “What do you want, Tree? The Banana Berry Nut Oatmeal is really good.”

“We’re having breakfast?” My eyes were on a frantic search for Felix Northcott, furiously hoping he didn’t work the Saturday morning shift.

“I’ve gotta swim later,” Garrett said with a grin, “I need some fuel.”

I scanned the cabinets, and right then Felix appeared, a tray of pastries in his hands. He was wearing a kind of chef cap and a Mooki’s apron over the blue and green checked shirt he regularly wore at school. The blue brought out the color of his eyes.

He smiled and was about to say, “Hi,” when Garrett called from the counter, “Latte or cappuccino, Tree?”

Felix’s smile instantly disappeared, and he looked down to his pastries, quickly putting them into the cabinet .

“Vanilla oat latte,” I said to Garrett, and I turned to Felix, “Hey, hi...”

But he was gone. The pastries were shoved onto a plate, not tidily displayed like the rest of the food.

I ordered the gluten-free cranberry breakfast muffin, even though I would have preferred one of the custard danish pastries Felix had just tumbled into the cabinet. My commitment to being gluten-free around him was outright ridiculous. I don’t know why I didn’t come out with the truth. Perhaps I could say my diagnosis had been wrong, that I was totally gluten tolerant. It seemed I was missing out on a lot of good food for no good reason.

Garrett finished up paying and nodded towards the window. “Grab us a seat.”

“We’re eating in?” I didn’t want to be sitting in Mooki’s with yesterday’s eyeliner smudged beneath my eyes and a creased top, with Felix behind the scenes. “Thought you’ve got training.”

“I’ll get there when I get there,” Garrett said with a wink. He placed the tray down on the table and pulled a chair out for me. I liked that. Garrett was cute, with strong, broad shoulders and his light brown hair all mussed up and uncombed, but he had never set my heart on fire. His kisses were nice, but they’d never made my adrenaline pump. His good manners were charming, and he made me feel special, but as a friend. I was sure that’s all we’d ever be. And from last night, I hoped he’d realized that.

At one point he’d tried to snuggle on the couch, but I’d been quite clear, “We’re not on a date, Garrett.”

Garrett had looked puzzled. “You’ve never been able to resist me before. ”

“Yeah, well, I guess I’m not desperate anymore,” I’d replied.

“What about when I do this?” Garrett had run his hand through my hair.

“Nothing,” I said, nudging him off.

“What about this?” He blew at my earlobe.

“Nada,” I said, shifting away and creating a gap between us.

He leaned his head towards my face. “But what about my Tom Ford cologne? Doesn’t it turn you on?”

“It’s a bit overpowering.” I laughed and pushed him away. It was quite strong, not fresh and light and citrusy. Like Felix Northcott’s.

Garrett had feigned disappointment, but within seconds was tuned back into gaming. That’s when Ainsley and I had decided to go to bed.

I cut my muffin in half and smothered it with butter. A teenage girl with a long, blonde, sleek ponytail arrived with our coffees. She was pretty, with a smattering of freckles, eyelash extensions and full, red lips. I wondered how she managed to get her makeup done so early. I also wondered if she was dating Felix.

I shifted my chair and scanned behind the counter. Where was Felix and what was he doing? Was he washing dishes, kneading the dough, taking out the trash? What was my obsession with him?

Garrett laughed out loud, clicking his fingers in front of me. I glowered at him.

“I said you must still be in dreamland. You’re away with the fairies.” He swallowed a spoonful of oats and said, “I asked if you were going to Logan’s later? ”

“Oh, what? Oh, no. I don’t know,” I stuttered, knowing I’d missed a whole chunk of the conversation. My eyes were zoned in on Felix, who had appeared from the back with a mop and bucket. I almost exploded with joy — yes, he was the cleaner! No wonder he’d been so snippety about me knowing he worked here. He was obviously embarrassed by it.

I turned back to my food and took a sip of my latte.

“So, it was a pretty fun night,” Garrett said.

“Yeah, it was. Even the game was okay.” Though I wasn’t a football fan, supporting the school team had caused a swelling of pride.

“Yeah, good win to our boys,” Garrett said, pushing his empty bowl into the center of the table. He picked up his cup, leaned back in his chair, and said with an impish grin, “So, did you know you snore?”

I nearly spat out my coffee. “Whaaaatttt? I do not!”

“I do not snore!”

“Uh-huh,” he nodded, lazily sipping his drink, “you do. It’s like a soft whistle.”

I made my angry, bright orange emoji face.

Garrett smirked and sat up straight. He was looking above and behind me as he lifted his chin and said, “Hey, Northcott.”

I spun around so quickly I almost gave myself whiplash. Felix was standing behind me, repeatedly mopping the same spot on the floor.

He stared at Garrett, and his one word answer was expressionless. “Tosti. ”

“You work here?” It was a question that wasn’t a question.

Felix’s cheeks had turned pink. He gave a nod.

“Hey. Nice shoes, man,” Garrett said, ogling the bright blue limited edition hi-tops, a pair I hadn’t seen before. Did the boy have a shoe fetish? Is that why his clothes were thrift shop — because he spent his entire budget on shoes?

Felix gave another nod, scooped up his bucket and scurried out the back, like he was keen to avoid any further conversation.

I leaned across the table and whispered, “You just embarrassed him.”

“How?” Garrett seemed mystified. “I just said I liked his shoes!”

“I don’t think he wants people to know he cleans here,” I said, my hands covering the sides of my mouth, as if someone might be lip reading me. “I think he’s ashamed.”

Garrett shrugged. “No one really cares.” He finished his coffee, but my appetite was gone. I was feeling a pang of sympathy for Felix. How tough it must be for him to get up early, bike to his job, work all day for minimum wage.

Garrett dropped me home and I found Mom standing in the middle of the living room, in a yoga pose.

“Look at me, darling. I’m balancing like a tree!” Yoga was something new for her, she was hoping it would tone her sagging muscles before she needed to resort to liposuction.

“Yeah, good one,” I said, watching her wobble and then switch to her other leg. “Hey, I can help you today. ”

She fell out of the pose and beamed. “Oh, awesome, darling! It won’t take long and then we can go out for lunch. And then shop.”

FOUR HOURS LATER, WE were in the mall, browsing in a jewelery store.

“Mom, these earrings are nice,” I said, eyeing up a pair of dangly silver crystals. Mom didn’t look over, she was studying the necklace counter. I wandered over to see what had caught her eye. Oddly, she was looking at pearls. Mom was not a pearl person. It was usually gold, rubies or nothing. She had a particular thing for rubies.

A sales assistant was hovering.

“Yuck,” I said, as Mom pointed to a single pearl on a silver chain. The assistant brought it out. Mom looked at it, fingered it, held it up to the light. “You like it?” I asked, confounded by her choice.

She hung it next to my throat. “Mama would love it. She always wanted a pearl. It’s her birthstone. She has your coloring.”

“There are matching earrings.” The assistant dashed off to retrieve them.

“For a gift?” I asked.

“It looks nice against your skin.” Mom nodded, all dewy-eyed. “Do you think she’d like it?”

A few minutes ago I’d said Yuck, but knowing it was for my eighty year old Ukrainian grandmother who had always dreamed of having a pearl, my view had changed.

“What month is it?” It was pretty bad that I didn’t know my own grandmother’s birthday .

“June. June ninth.”

“She wouldn’t want a string of pearls?” I asked. The assistant magically had an array of pearl necklaces on the counter.

“Just one,” Mom said. “I think she’d only want one.”

We looked over the display, and Mom went with her original choice. The assistant offered to gift wrap it.

Mom’s whole body sighed, and she tried to smile, but her normally smooth, wrinkle-free skin puckered and her eyes crinkled and her chin creased. The decision to visit her mother had obviously been consuming her. For almost twenty years, in fact.

Buying this gift made the trip a reality for her. And I found myself wondering why an old lady who dreamed of having a pearl held such unhappy memories for my mother.