“Career girl. Psh,” Mira Kokotovic says, giving me a look filled with judgment. “Your job is what?”
“I do graphic design-” I start to say as she eyes me like I can’t possibly be employable.
“They let you wear your hair like a clown in an office?” Mira Kokotovic asks. “And there’s a ladder in your tights.”
“My mother is old-fashioned. I love your hair,” Ana says. “So colorful.”
“She looks like a little clown dolly,” Jude’s grandmother says, eyeing me. “Is permanent?”
“Yes. I mean, it technically is, but not for me. I change it quite often,” I say.
“Last week she had rainbow dreadlocks,” Jude informs.
“Hm.” His grandmother tilts her head while staring at me. “And you have small breasts.”
My eyes bulge and my mouth drops open.
“It’s okay,” she waves her hand. “My sister had small breasts and she fed seven babies.” She turns her back to me and moves to the stove where three burners have pots on them, all with steam curling toward the ceiling and delicious-smelling aromas filling my apartment.
“My mother has no filter,” Jude’s mother advises while his grandmother stirs what looks like a pot of deep-red stew.
A nervous laugh bubbles up from me. “People without filters are the best people.”
“We’ve already made some other foods and put in your fridge and freezer for you two. There was almost no food here. You’re so busy,” Jude’s baka adds, looking aggravated. “And why the sparkle mess every place?”
“I… like sparkles.” I shrug.
I see Jude’s shoulders shaking with laughter from the corner of my eye.
“Let me get some wine and let’s get to know you, Ally,” Ana says. “Rinse those and let’s sit.” She gestures to the kitchen taps.
I finally look directly at Jude, who casually sits down on the couch and picks up the remote. He’s got his eyes on me and they’re sparkling with mischief. I stare directly into his eyes and mine are filled with meaning. Accusation. Anger.
Basically, all the death-wish feelings.
What the fuck is this? Using his family to interrogate me? Is that what’s happening here?
“My son gave us the great news, and so we came by,” Ana explains, “to say hello and meet you. My ma decided to give you a little domestic help.” She shrugs. “I’m sorry if it was overstepping, I know how that feels, but it’s her thing. My mother likes to help.” She winks at me. “Just roll with it if you can. It’s easiest for all involved.”
Great news? What great news?
She ushers me to the couch beside Jude and before I know it, I’m bouncing as she pulls me down and I’m sandwiched between them.
His arm goes over the back of the couch and he smirks down at me. Our thighs are touching, and I can’t even squirm away because I’m in a Novak sandwich.
I swipe my still damp hands on my skirt and stare at him with shock, communicating that I can’t believe he’s done this – and I don’t even fully understand what this is. I pull a lock of hair out of my mouth and turn to his mom.
“It’s lovely to meet you guys. I’m sorry if the place was… in disarray. I’ve just gotten back from a trip and if I’d known I’d have company-”
“Disarray?” Jude’s grandmother quips from the stove without looking over at us. “Like a group of wild monkeys were let loose in here.” She waves a hand and then she goes back to stirring something else in a pot.
I’m mortified.
But really, I shouldn’t be.
Why the heck are Jude’s mother and grandmother here? And why do I care so much that they think I’m a slob when really, I’m just trying to win at a game with no defined rules and a potentially dangerous outcome.
“Ana! Help me over here with this.”
Jude’s mother heads over to the stove.
“Get your arm off me,” I grumble.
Jude reacts by gripping me closer and putting his mouth to my ear.
“No way.”
“What news did you share?”
“That I have a new girlfriend,” he deadpans.
“Who?” I ask, turning to face him.
He chuckles and touches his lips to mine, which makes my entire body go still. Except my lips. Those are tingling.
It takes a second to shake it off.
“Why would you say that?” I demand under my breath.
He shrugs. But I have a feeling he knows exactly why he did that.
"You bring your mother to my place? You set your grandmother on me when my place is trashed?" I hiss. "That's really playing dirty." I rise and head down the hall to go to the bathroom.
He’s following me. I have the urge to run, but of course I can’t do that because his grandmother and mother are in my kitchen and where would I run to? Out the door? Not a bad idea, actually.
He stops me by caging me in against the wall beside the bathroom door.