‘Hear, hear!’ Becca stuck hers up in the air. ‘I feel quite honored actually.’
I smiled at everyone. There was something about them that seemed to set me at ease. Not consciously, but on a deep and silent level that was beyond my full understanding. It was in that intangible way that was always hard for me to understand. But maybe intangible ways were not meant to be understood; maybe they were just meant to be enjoyed.
The Margaritas did make me feel more relaxed as the day went on. I hadn’t participated much in the conversation, apart from my cactus story; instead I’d sat back and observed the family talking and laughing with each other. They fascinated me, how they finished each other’s sentences and knew when it was appropriate to smack each other on the arm in jest, not in aggression. This family unit was a well-oiled machine, each one a cog, a small part of something bigger than themselves but all working in perfect unison together.
‘Aaaah!’ I gasped when a cat jumped onto my lap.
‘Don’t worry, that’s just Checkers,’ Grace said. But I stiffened and looked at Andrew with big eyes.
‘You okay?’ he asked.
‘I’m allergic to cats,’ I said, trying to back away from it as much as I could. ‘Oh my God! Oh my God! What is it doing?’ I winced as it pushed its nails into my thighs. ‘Make it stop! Please.’ The cat was purring like a machinegun and digging into me with such force that its claws were piercing my skin.
‘You really don’t like cats at all!’ Shaleen laughed.
‘Who doesn’t like cats?’ One of the twins had come over now. A few more children had arrived as I started to shoo the cat away with a napkin. ‘Aaah!’ I jumped in my chair as the cat attacked the napkin, grabbed it between its paws and dug its teeth into it viciously. It rolled over onto its back and kicked the napkin repeatedly with its back legs while making strange growling sounds.
‘Now you’ve turned it into a game.’ Becca walked over to me. ‘Are you having fun, Checkers?’ She pulled the giant fur ball off, just as my first sneeze came rushing out.
‘Bless you!’
I jumped as everyone said that in unison. But it wasn’t long before Checkers was on me again. This time he’d sprung up from behind my chair and pounced on me. I screamed, which sent all the children into hysterics. I got up and changed seats, only to find the cat stalking me from under the table. He launched himself back onto my leg and scurried up it and then tried to climb onto my shoulder.
Finally, the cat was gotten rid of and put into another room. I let out three more consecutive sneezes followed by three more blasted-out ‘bless you’s from what had become a giant audience. I realized that I’d become the center of attention, and this didn’t feel as uncomfortable as it usually would have. Maybe it was the Margaritas, or maybe it was the fact that Andrew’s family seemed like one big friendly entity. Their smiles looked warm and genuine, and they all talked and joked in happy, relaxed tones which even I was able to pick up on. This was obviously where Andrew got that quality from.
The men barbecued, the children played, and everyone continued to talk as the party got into full swing. This was nothing like my mom’s sixtieth. She’d had a formal ball, calligraphic name cards on satin-draped tables, orchids and mood lighting and speeches and a live band. But this was so casual and laid back and, truthfully, I liked it so much more.
‘What’s your name again?’
I turned at the soft voice coming from behind me. I was met by a small boy hiding behind a huge pair of glasses.
‘Pippa,’ I said.
‘That’s a funny name.’
‘I hated it when I was young. I always thought of a pip every time I said it.’
‘That’s what I thought of too,’ he said.
‘What’s your name?’ I asked.
‘Leroy. I think it’s a good name. Much better than Pippa.’
‘I agree with you, Leroy.’
‘Are you Andrew’s girlfriend?’ he asked.
‘Yes. Why?’
‘You look nothing like his last girlfriend.’
‘What did Andrew’s last girlfriend look like?’ I asked.
‘She was much prettier than you,’ Leroy said, and then turned and walked back towards the pool. I felt a hand on my shoulder.
‘Don’t take it to heart, dear,’ Grace said. ‘Leroy doesn’t have much of a social filter. He doesn’t mean to say things that might hurt people.’ I watched him walk away; he was favoring his tiptoes. His arms swung around, as if he had no concept of his body in space.
‘He’s on the autism spectrum,’ I heard myself say.
